30 day challenge

So there are ton of 30 day challenges.  On social media sights like Twitter and Instagram it is a picture a day.  There are lots of work outs that say "lose this much" in 30 days.  I even tried Jillian Michaels 30 day shred, I liked it, but I skipped a day and therefore, lost my motivation.

I recently watched Matt Cutts' TED video about trying something new for 30 days.  I liked the idea that you can make life changes in 30 days, or you can just remember some really cool things.  I have 28 days left in Bahrain.  When there were 30 days left, Ezza and I started working out.  I don't really care about the number on the scale-I know it-it is healthy-my clothes fit.  However, I have an incredibly hot fiance who likes to run and workout so I want to be able to keep up with him, and be as hot as him (seriously, have you seen him???).

So my goal is to workout every day for the next 30.  I am really bad about this.  Like I said, I skipped a day of Jillian, felt like I let her down, and stopped, I hate letting people down.  So I'm not saying it is going to be a huge workout...but my goal is to go for a long walk, jump on the treadmill, go for a swim, every day.  Just something to be active with the end of the year approaching.

Ezza and I also have a motivational plan...If a person decides not to workout that day, that said person must buy a shot, of the other person's choosing, and drink it.  We are not talking good shots..we are talking nasty, disgusting, embarrassing options.  So let the ideas roll in :)  If you miss two days the other person gets to do your makeup, then hair, then clothes...this sounds like it could be the 30 days to embarrassment challenge!

Name Change

It's time to change the ol' name...

No not my name...

Well yes, my name too, but that one I already know...

Carissa June is what you can call me though :)

But it is time to change the blog name!  I want to keep the TMI, because I think blogging is a complete overshare of lives, but it is totally fun, a great release for me, and keeps family and friends in the know.  So yay blogging!  Yay for future husbands who don't mind you blogging about them!!!  He said I can share the good and the bad...which I don't plan on doing, but I do love how open and honest he and I are and how important talking is...so I want to share about how we get over hard times.

Example?  This long distance thing blows.  I'm not saying it sucks, I'm saying it inhales more profusely than physics ever could.  I would do physics every day of my life if it meant we could skip this distance thing.  It BUH-lows.  Waking up just to tell him goodnight?  buh-lows.  Having broken up Skype conversations with crappy internet?  Sucks as much as doing drag force formulas.  Getting frustrated at Skype but sounding like you are taking it out on the other person?  Amazingly horrible.  My future cell phone bill from when I get too frustrated at Skype and just call him on my cell?  Astronomical and therefore sucks majorly.

So how do we get around this?  We say "I love you" probably 10 times more than we probably would.  We want to say it as much as possible because being 6500 miles apart can be lonely, and you need the other person to know that.  We send cute pictures and thoughts through out our days for the person to find.  I sent John home with 6 cards for him to open through out May and June (on our anniversary, when he left Ohio, etc).  So anyone else going through long distance times in your relationship...what do you do?  Because I love the shit out of John, but this whole opposite side of the world thing...you guessed it...buh-lows.

I also want to share our adventures in Maine, just like I did a few times here in Bahrain (think tire fire picture, dead body on side of the road or the police station....gosh I hope Maine has happier thoughts :))  John asked me the other day if I wanted a bike.  I told him no.  He said he asked because he knows I don't like to run.  My question is why do I have to bike if I don't like to run?  Why am I being so active?  He said he was trying to think ahead for things to buy for outdoor stuff.  So we got on the topic of hiking.  I like to hike just fine, love trails through the woods.  But I did feel the need to remind him that I'm not exaggerating...I am a pretty, pretty princess.  He said he knows and he likes it.  I also feel like I should mention I am incredibly worried about fitting in in Maine.  Maine, from what I can tell from pictures and schools I have looked at, is, um, a little, earthy?  I feel like a lot of granola is consumed per capita.  Now don't get me wrong, I can't wait to have a compost pile and go to farmer's markets (or grow our own food John says...this makes me laugh...me grow things...hahaha, poor guy...) but when a school says they restrict the use of cosmetics for students and teachers I begin to wonder....will my Elon self fit in?  We will definitely have some experiences I think.

So back to the blog-title ideas are welcomed!  The title must abbreviate to T.M.I. (like Teaching Math Internationally.)

So far we have:
Tolerating Maine's Infrastructure (John)
Taking Maine In-stride (CJ)
Tabloiding Marriage Intricacies (CJ)
Tackling Maine Imperfectly (LBC)
Taking on Military life Imperfectly (LBC)
TMI: Oversharing our Crazy Adventures (LBC)
The Maine Influence (BABS)
The Maine Idea (BABS)
Telling My Insights (LBP)
**love the word imperfect!


Also thinking about doing something with Ma(ine)rriage as a word...not sure...

I'll keep adding to the title ideas as they roll in ;)

John, I am perfect...no really...keep reading!

So here’s the thing…I’m a bit of a planner.  I don’t mean that I’m organized, well in a way that ordinary people believe organization should be done….which is apparently not piles of shit, papers, everywhere.  I know that any principal I have ever worked for is also laughing at me being a planner because I plan my lessons on post it notes about 5 minutes before the students walk through the door.  

But when I say plan, I mean I know what is going to happen in my day, week, month and I know multiple ways to tackle all the possible options that I have planned for happening.  

I wake up, either 

Early, in which case I work out (never happens), 

On time, in which case I shower and blow dry my hair (90% of the days) 

Or late, so I don’t shower and throw my hair in some kind of up do.  

My kids will either 

A) love my fabulous lesson and absorb everything I say (never happens), 

B) like most of it and pay enough attention for me to feel halfway decent about my job (90% of the days) or

C) kill any hope I have for the future of our planet by making animal noises all throughout class and only referring to themselves by their animal names (to which you respond, “meow + meow= roar”).  

At the end of the work day I will either feel like working more (yes this does happen!) or like I want to veg out (ok this usually happens). This happens every day.  I have back up plans for every class in case something goes wrong.  I know what day I am leaving Bahrain.  Two months ago I knew when I would be coming back to Bahrain.  Since February I knew what my calendar looked like for next school year so I knew when I could travel and when I would be home in 2014.  I am a planner.  

So what do you do when you marry military?  Apparently you throw your hands in the air and go “f*** all those plans, let’s just wing it…but not too much”  Kind of like Bonquiqui from MadTV “Welcome to King Burger, home of the King Burger , you can have it your way but don’t get crazy now.”  Semper Gumby it is-you can have leave, but when we approve it.  You'll be here for "this long", give or take a year.  So here is how John and I’s conversations have been going...

Me: “When are we going to NC?”  

John: “When I have school” 

Me: “Cool, when is that?”  

John: “I don’t know, I’ll find out more when I am off leave.”  

Me: “So like the day your report in or a little after that or…” 

John:“When they tell me…” 

Me: “cool.” (so basically sometime...). 

Me: “When are we going to Ohio/Minnesota?”  

John: “The first leave I get we are going.” 

Me: “Cool, when is that?”  

John: “I don’t know, I’ll find out more when I am off leave.”  

Me: “So like the day your report in or a little after that or…” 

John: “When I ask for it and they approve…”

Me: “cool.” (only my question still isn’t answered, yet he has told me the only answer he can).  

Me: “So we’re going to be in Maine for 3 years?” 

John: “Well it could be 1 year.” 

Me: “So we could move next year.” 

John: “Well more like 2 years.” 

Me: “ok so we are moving in 2 years.”  

John: “We will be moving in no less than 1 year, and no more than 3 years.” 

Me: “ok, cool.” (so basically...anytime...)  

These are all conversations that I have started multiple times...because I keep hoping the outcome will be more defined...and poor John has to repeat it to me every time like I am Izzy waking up from brain surgery after George joined the Army.  Maybe John should get some post-its like Karev...I have a ton he can use, not like I need to plan any lessons in the near future.  

I have made 3 spreadsheets in the past couple weeks.  One for our future budget (just how many of my pins can we afford to do?)  One for the houses that we are looking at in Rockland (it is now color coded too-red is for rejects, yellow is for caution) and the last has something to do with the two, but I’ll detail more in another post.  I think John thinks I’m crazy and too detail oriented (I'm saying this, he hasn't, although, I'm sure he has said some things about my spreadsheets :)).  It isn't that at all…and honestly most of the plans I make never happen (oh, hi Bahrain!)  But I like knowing possible outcomes and things I can do to tackle possible obstacles or things to look forward to when plans happen.  

So maybe I'm the perfect person to marry into the military. I have a plan for every possible route they can throw at us (I can hear Laura B. Childs laughing all the way from North Carolina).  Ok, not every plan, but with all my "planning" experience, I am really good at thinking on my feet and tackling situations.  I am so ready for the unplannable adventures ahead.  Basically just sharing it all with John but also refining my planning, not planning and thinking on my feet skills...which are already awesome...I want to know who else would know what to do when a girl said a math problem was "orgasmic."

Damn right I high fived her...

and then told her I don't think she knows what that word means...

And then I came up with a plan of what to say for when she asked me later why I high fived her.  

Opposites Attract

Last night John was telling me about guns.  I know nothing, and he knows a whole heck of a lot.  He wants to teach me to shoot...I'm still on the fence...

In that same conversation he told me he was going to Cabelas, which I didn't know what that was, but he was going to buy me a hat...a camo one...I asked Em and Laura if they knew, and they laughed...at me...because everyone knows it and they also want to see me with a camo hat on...or was it that they don't...eh, whatever.

John then asked me "North face or Columbia?"  I don't know why, perhaps he is buying me a warm coat for when I land in the arctic, but I couldn't answer him because I don't own anything by either of those companies.  I told him NF because that is his favorite.  I reminded him that it would be like me asking him "Michael Kors or Karen Millen?"  Poor guy knows Michael Kors now because of me :)

He sent me a picture of my new living room furniture...I told him to stick to earth tones...I should have been more specific.   (sidenote: he was joking.  I hope.)





(Can we also note the long pants, fleece and socks he has on...seriously it is winter in Maine.)









Lastly, there was a page he liked that showed up in my news feed for...wait for it..."George W. Bush".  It is pretty awesome that he met him while he serving in the army.  I respect all of our presidents for what they do...but I'll be damned if a campaign sticker goes on my car anytime soon...for either party :)

We have quite a few differences...but it is what I love about him.  We will challenge each other with politics and beliefs regarding issues, however we have similar economic and social beliefs.  Our religious frame of mind is also in a similar place (I say it like this because I really believe your spiritual journey evolves and changes and I can't wait to see how ours does).  He will teach me about guns and I will make insane spreadsheets of the houses we are looking at buying.   We will incorporate our two tastes together into one house where the deer heads/camo are limited to one room (and not the living room).

With our differences and similarities the most important thing is that I cannot wait to grow, mature, learn and teach...with him, by him and through him.  As you get older you become who you are going to become.  I have failed, and I have succeeded and I am proud of who I am today.  He makes me want to be better.  He pushes me to try harder, love more and become more of who I am and, more importantly, want to be.  The phrase "you complete me" has always sounded funny to me...I am whole as me.  However, now I know what it is to have someone make you a better you...he does...

As long as he didn't buy that recliner :)

If I can be patient in a Bahraini police station, Americans should learn to be patient at the DMV

So I had another Bahraini first last night…a car accident.  Before you all start saying things about women drivers I was rear ended.  I was stopped for a few seconds when it happened, so it wasn’t like I stopped abruptly either.  I actually didn’t know what happened because I haven’t been hit in over 11 years (and just so we put it out there, I haven’t hit anyone in over 11 years).  The title of the post is from a conversation with Camille this morning...here is the story:

I get hit with Camille, Ezza and Stu in the car at 7:45 on Thursday night.  Ezza, being awesome, was the first to ask if everyone was ok.  Being the North Americans we are, Camille grabbed the insurance and took pictures of my car and his license plate.  Stu, being the only guy in the car, got out to be the muscle (which I especially love because I've got a good 3 inches and 15 pounds on him).  I told Ez to stay in because I was scared my car would lock if we closed all the doors.  The guy was super helpful, the police were not.  I first called 999 (the 911 of Bahrain.)  They hung up on me twice and I got a busy signal once before someone who did not know English answered.  He passed me off to someone else, who told me to call the traffic cops at 199.  Whoops.  (NOTE: Bayan needs to give us a cheat sheet of this stuff, we had an emergency earlier this year with two Americans who did not know it was 999 not 911-I only knew because of my time in London, otherwise I would have no idea).  

So I call the traffic cops who ask if we can move the cars and of course we can, it was a very minor accident.  So we have to drive to the police station.  Well, thank goodness for honest people because who says this kid who hit me couldn’t have driven off in the other direction.  Instead he let me follow him.  We picked up his Dad on the way (I thought he was my age at first but the more time I spent with him and his father over the night, the guy who hit me was a kid, 18, 21 at most.)  When we get to the station the Dad asks if we could just settle it.  In the states I would have said yes (I drive a crappy car that has scratches-not from me-so I would not have fixed it on this car) but here I needed the police report so I did not have to pay the rental company.  I told him how much it was for the rental company (250BD, almost $700) and that was ridiculous for such a small dent.  I had also already called my rental car company (I love them by the way-Adliya Rental Car is a good company-owned by a parent of a student).  So he then asked if we could say he was driving because his son just got his license.  Since I did not have a Bahraini license and was about to plead ignorance if they asked for mine, I didn’t see any harm in it.  So we walked into the station….

Did I mention we were all ready to go out for the night so we were all looking really cute and fairly fancy?  Yeah, let’s just say that we stood out like a sore thumb in the traffic station.  It was a serious game of “one of these things is not like the other”.  Well, immediately three guys on a couch stand up for us ladies to sit.  I will miss that.  Being the independent women we are, we were like “oh no, we’re fine, really”…we need to stop doing that!  We should just feel honored and let it happen.  I forced the rest of my group to head out (I don’t handle support well, again, stupid independent woman) and so I stayed with the two Indian men.  It took forever, who knew a lot of accidents happen on the first night of the weekend when all the Saudi’s are out?  Huh.  

Now a side note, you may feel as if I’m being racist here mentioning all the countries of origin.  That is how it is here though.  Everyone wants to know where everyone is from, it is one of the first questions you ask people.  Very few of the people here, even the Arabs, are from Bahrain.  The Arabic people, for the most part, have a tie to another country-Lebanon, Kuwait and Saudi are the ones I hear the most.  Even my Bahraini students will specify what country they feel ties to (mostly to separate the Arabic from the Persian roots).  I also really love, by having this be the first question, that you learn a ton.  Last weekend I went to an Internations Dinner and sat across from a Syrian man.  He let me ask all of my dumb questions (Is it safe where your family is?  Have you been back recently?) and answered them.  If I had just assumed he was from a gulf region country, I would not have learned so much.  In America we all have such a similar background yet we cling to our heritage roots when we have nothing to cling to-I said I was Swedish to a group of people once and they laughed.  I’m not Swedish.  I’m American.  My ancestors are Swedish, I’ve been to Sweden, but I still know NOTHING about it.  We should instead talk about America and be advocates for America, cause Lord knows, America needs some good representation all over.  Ok, side note over.  

So anyways, we patiently wait our turn (I’m being completely serious-it took way over an hour for anyone to talk to us, but everyone was very calm and polite).  Cops look at our cars, get our information.  This was a little scary for me because I didn’t have my CPR card (like your social security/license here) and I only had my US license.  They sent my US license around the office and finally, after a lot of Arabic, I heard “America, she’s fine”.  I asked what it was all about and they said I should get a local license.  I said that I was leaving for good next month and they said “ok, you are fine.”  We then got sent to the “Cashier”.  The man pays 20BD.  I pay 6BD (for the report).  Then the guy has to pay a BD for something and he doesn’t have it, he only has a 5.  So the “cashier” pulls out a ball of cash to make change (read “Ball”, it is not like my grandfather who has his cash in a cute money clip with the hundreds on the outside so you look like a pimp…this was a ball of cash that a 6 year old would put on the counter of a store to pay for a toy).  He then asks if the guy is going to get his car fixed.  He says no.  The guy gives him 10BD back.  Puts all of the money we gave him in the wad and puts it back in his pocket.  

I now have a police report where I can read nothing but my name.  

Overall it was a smooth process-good job Bahrain.  

screw pause, let's fast forward this piece...

You know that moment in your life when you can’t look to the future because you have no idea how you can get there, and you can’t look at your past, because you are trying to move past it?  I call that life on pause.  You cannot make any gains and you are spinning your wheels just trying to make the most out of what you can at the time.  My life was on pause for two-ish years.  Just kind of cruising through.  Last year, when I moved here to Bahrain I wrote that my life was not on pause anymore-I could see how I could move forward and I was excited.  As of February 17^th I thought I was moving forward…with my career.  I could see my whole professional future and it was fine.  When I accepted the new job I was on the fence.  I told Ezza that I got the job in the elevator and she said “Congratulations, I guess?”  I said "yeah..." and we hugged. 

 Right before that, on Saturday, February 2^nd we went to Ladies Night at JJ’s.  It was the beginning of Winter Break and we were just out.  I kept making eyes (meaning flirting over my drink) with a guy wearing an OSU shirt.  Me, being a faithful Minnesota/Wisconsin fan knew that I hated OSU, just on general Big 10 principles.  Me, also being a huge smart ass, decide the best way to flirt with this guy is to talk shit about his favorite team.  I told him he was brave to wear such a horrible team’s shirt, even if no one in this country knew what it was.  He said something about football, I said something about basketball, and I went back to Ezza (and the two guys we were talking to at the time).  A couple of minute’s later OSU boy comes over with a pen and napkin and asks for my number (ballsy, considering I was sitting with two guys-just friends by the way-but still, ballsy).  I told him I would be watching the Superbowl at a restaurant the next night, maybe we could meet up there. 

Well the Superbowl started and I had not heard from my OSU boy.  I figured he realized that I was a smart ass and in a sober state, came to the conclusion not to call me.  Not the case though!  He texted me (so he did have a phone…did not need the napkin in these new fangled technology times) during the game, but did not know that the restaurant locked their doors at 2.  So we made plans to meet for lunch the next day (the 4^th)-I told him to wear an OSU shirt so I could recognize him. 

On the 4^th we met and he was cuter than I remembered (always a plus!) and the conversation was great-I think we stayed for 2 hours.  He left that day for Australia for 2 weeks, but said he would call when he came back into town.  A simple “I’m just not that into you” would have sufficed, but Australia is a cool lie. He actually was going though and we became Facebook friends. 

While OSU was gone, I got the new job and continued to have fun in Bahrain.  He messaged me a couple of times while he was gone and called as soon as he landed on the 22^nd.  We spent  the whole weekend together.  He left again and came back, but on March 9^th I realized that he was too good for me.  I’ve heard that line before...shows, movies, but never understood what it meant...until then.  He is honestly, a true gentleman.  Nice, sincere, honest, brave, I could go on…but I felt like I would let him down.  I’m nice, most of the time.  I’m sincere and honest, when I feel I can be.  I’m not that brave…it just felt...like I wasn't good enough.  Best way I can describe it.  We parted ways-and decided to talk when we could (he says we were never gonna talk again...)  March 15^th he changed his mind...he emailed me. We chatted and decided to get coffee the next day.  I thought about him a lot over the week, but knew I shouldn’t contact him, so when he contacted me, even when I told him everything, I knew it was good.  So I got all fancy for our coffee date-hoping to make a good impression.  I think I did alright.  We have been inseparable ever since. 

I kept saying we were going at warp speed.  Asking if he was ok, are we moving too fast?  He said no, and I believed him.  March 28  we went out with his friends.  It was a fun night, and it was the night I knew I loved him.  It is too much information, but I knew we did because we got in a fight.  It was a misunderstanding at the bar when we had been drinking (REALLY?  Who would have thought alcohol and loud music could cause people to not hear others!)  We left angry at each other, but when we got to a quiet place, we didn't scream, we didn't ignore each other, we looked into each other’s eyes and talked it out.  We explained how we felt.  I’m not saying we both weren’t still mad and/or drunk, but we left holding hands.  The next day we made sure we were ok, we were, and I loved that we were able to talk about how we felt and forgive.  On March 29 I was telling him how good I felt about us and his response was “Are you saying you love me?”  So I don’t know who said it first, but there it was, out in the open and the speed was going faster than ever.

We talked about how the next school year would be horrible but we could do it…10 months apart wasn’t anything. 

 However, the closer we got to his leaving date, the worse it was feeling.  I was struggling to think about 2 months, let alone 10.  I was mad because my life would be on pause again, we were going to be half way around the world from each other, able to see each other every couple of months, maybe, and my life would be at a weird standstill.  I could tell it was eating him alive too.

We talked and on April 9^th decided that I was moving home.  I was scared as hell to tell my parents and school, but there was very little debate.  I played devil’s advocate a couple of times, but still couldn’t think about 10 months. 

On April 26^th, at the same bar we met at, in an OSU shirt, with all of our friends around, he asked me to marry him.  I said yes enthusiastically, we hugged, and kissed and everyone cheered.  Ezza and I went to the bathroom to look at the ring and talk.  She looked at me with tears in her eyes, and I started crying.  She said “Congratulations!”  I said "yes!"  And we hugged so tight and I couldn’t stop smiling. 


Life Unpaused.   

Keeper of the Stars

This past week I posted the Bill Cosby quote “decide that you want it more than you are afraid of it.”  It was fitting at the time.  Hell, it is fitting all of the time.  There is something every day that I am slightly afraid of…but if it is worth doing, or you want it bad enough, we move past the fear.  How soon is too soon to move past the fear though?  How long are we supposed to sit and stew on it and debate whether we want it more than we are scared of it?

In class, I can let a student struggle for only about 5-8 minutes until the fall apart and lose interest in the math.  They are so scared of failing and getting the problem wrong, that if they cannot answer it in 5-8 minutes they just don’t do it.

Imagine if we only sat and stewed over our own personal dilemmas for 5-8 minutes. 

It felt like that when I decided to move to Bahrain.  I applied in the middle of February and had decided by March 25^th.  I cried for about a week straight while I was debating.  I talked to my family every day, but did not mention much to friends.  I remember telling Jamie over spring break.  It was hard knowing that this huge life change was going to shake so much up, yet was the right move.  I had to convince some people that it was for good and that I was happy. 

However, that huge step in my life was whirlwind and great. 

I do very few things slow.  I talk fast, I think faster than my fingers type, and until recently, when I have learned the Arabic way of life, I walked fast.  I have many speed tickets including through a school zone, on my way to school.  I’m not proud, I just always think that there is something exciting to be getting to…we should move fast! 

I believe that people sit and stew too long.  I am a procrastinator, but I make my mind up pretty quickly.  I never visited a single college campus when I accepted to Elon.  I applied, interviewed and accepted in a week when I switched jobs to Durham.  Canden and I bought Bakerloo in about 5 minutes of debating.   

I believe in gut reactions and feelings.  I believe we all know what we want innately, however, the longer we sit and stew we change those gut reactions, and sometimes for the better, but sometimes just for the easier. 

I love excitement.  I love a challenge.  I love gut reactions. In my first blog post I wrote about this need.  My job is amazing because it provides me with a challenge every day.  I have put my job first because of this passion. 

So, in a whirlwind move, is it ok to be challenged in other areas?   Can we worry too much about something and sit and stew and struggle…too much?  Too little?  At what point am I not building my students’ intelligence when I let them struggle with a problem?  When should I intervene?  When do “helpful suggestions” become “telling them the answer”?  When do we listen to others and take their advice over what we really want…or need? 

The Rolling Stone’s song “You Can’t Always Get What You Want” is stuck in my head.  It has NOTHING to do with any current situations…I actually just read the lyrics and…well…am really surprised by them.  However, the point being…it may not be what we want, but it may be what we need. 

Did fate lead me to Bahrain or was it a gut reaction from something my boss said that led me down a rabbit hole here?  If I hadn’t acted quickly would I have taken this adventure? 

The girls watched “He’s Just Not That Into You” tonight.  The main character Gigi sits and thinks and stews over every single thing that a guy does.  It drives her (and her friends…and the guys) crazy, however she is the eternal optimist and knows that love is right around the corner for her.  When she stops thinking and listening to all the “exception” stories, that’s when Alex comes along and tells her she is his exception (you have to see it to fully understand). 

Our life is full of rules.  We follow guidelines at work; we follow traffic rules (well…sometimes), follow ones outlined and even ones that are just understood.  You must stop at a red light (written).  You should give up your seat to the elderly (understood).   So why in our life do we have this rule that we have to overanalyze all aspects until we go crazy?  Rules should be simple and easy to understand.  And as the movie states…we are the rules…until we are the exception.  Worrying, fear and trepidation will not get you anywhere except for reveling in a world of exceptions that do not meet your circumstances.  The only way we can find our own exceptions is to take a leap of faith.

Leah Banner Poole is an exception.  She is taking a leap of faith…and I love her and Jordan for it.  I hope that I can continue to show her that following your gut reaction, your heart, and/or your instinct will lead you to amazing things…as I have found…here in Bahrain…and, inshallah, beyond.