Food Glorious Food II : BD IV

The fruits wrought from carcasses of swine are regarded here in much the same way as hardcore pornography back home. It's there if you want it and know how to find it, but kept out of sight from children and self-respecting members of the community.
Plenty of poor substitutes are available in the form of beef or chicken luncheon meat, chicken hotdogs and rashers of breakfast veal. Stocking my food cupboard has become considerably easier in recent months. Having discovered larger chain supermarkets outside Manama, vast quantities of ready-made meals and cooking sauces are now at my disposal. Cheese is ridiculously hard to get hold of. Coldstores only seem to stock 'Happy Cow" a Dairy Lea type of product and processed cheese slices that the locals can't get enough of. Jawads (the local name for the Tesco brand), has a nice little deli section with a good range of mouldy cheeses and it was while perusing these nuggets of creamery gold that I stumbled across a shrine.

Barely noticeable was a gap leading to a secret treasure of more pork produce than you could shake a pot of apple sauce at. Pate, hotdogs, sausages, bacon, chops, loin, ribs, even that pie with the egg in the middle. Filling my basket like Hong Kong Phooey would, I slowed when the display degenerated into a pork autopsy. I was at an exhibition of body parts more suitable for grinding down to fertilizer than human consumption. Knuckles, bags of tails and icepops of blood, rinds, tongues and testicles - you name it, it was there, pink and frozen. 
Already stilted I halted abruptly when presented to the 10.23kg, cling film wrapped head of the creature who's anatomy was commonly disguised as a desirable accompaniment to egg, beans, grilled tomato and tattie scones.

Must admit, it looked quite serene…

Dichotomy : BD III

I was wandering around the Manama Souq looking for a suitable vendor from which to purchase beds for some friends imminent and much anticipated visit. In an alleyway I saw a woman sitting with whom I presumed was her offspring.
The child was obviously suffering from borderline malnutrition, barely aware of its surroundings, skin and threadlike muscles sagging from it's bones. I observed, while passing, as she tried to slide bread into the child's mouth which was just a slack opening to a head lolling about in her arms.
I found exactly what I wanted, paid BD30 (£50) of the 60 I was carrying, went home and ate a meal of sundried tomato and oregano pasta in a red pesto sauce with a glass of freshly juiced mango, while waiting for the delivery of my acquisitions.

Two days ago I found a dog lying outside the office, protecting itself from the afternoon sun in the shade of our building. The animal was obviously suffering from borderline malnutrition, barely aware of its surroundings, skin and threadlike muscles sagging from it's bones. I went back into the office and took from the fridge the packet of sliced roast beef I had planned to make sandwiches from for the forthcoming weeks lunch. I threw the meat to the dog and cautiously it emerged from its shelter, sniffed the food and with a swift jerk of its head threw it down its throat.
The next evening, on my way home, I saw the same dog sniffing beside one of the many restaurant bins which pollute the afternoon air. As I reached out to pat its head, it turned sharply, snarled with a vehemence I'd never before witnessed in an animal and ran off.