Morag from Manama

Compound living can send many an expat family running to the hills for some privacy and solitude but, of course, there aren’t any hills here in Bahrain – so be careful!

It’s the reality of living in such close proximity whilst under the eagle eye of the compound ‘busy-body’ who undoubtedly knocked on your door as you were waving off the last of the packers.

Warily, you smile and profess many thanks as ‘busy-body’ kindly pushes a welcome to the community plate of freshly-baked cookies into your hands whilst she is scanning the contents of your house over your shoulder.

It may make the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end as you notice the beautiful china plate that those cookies are on. Why? Because you know only too well that there was a reason they were served to you on such a plate – the owner knows you will need to pay her a visit to return it.

Having recently come out the other end of ‘compound living’ with a few minor scars and a couple of deeper ones collected along the way, I found myself reminiscing about the trials of living in an expat goldfish bowl.

Oh! how I miss the curtain-twitching, the keeping up with the expat neighbour’s competition – like who has had what done to their villa, arguing over how much rent everyone is being charged and why one neighbour has their pool heated and another doesn’t.

The ridiculously-priced cars parked in the driveway acts as another expat status symbol. They are driven at high speed regardless of the children playing in the compound.

Wives can also be spotted complaining to each other about the amount of vacations one particular neighbour takes, whilst reminding themselves that that same particular neighbour is with ‘oil & gas’ and surely the slump will soon put an end to those trips away.

Everyone is so friendly initially then invariably cliques form, friendship groups change and cracks start to show.

Let’s not forget about the neighbours who let their adorable, noisy children run amok around the compound whilst yours are tucked up in bed trying to sleep on a school night.

Those fun outdoor parties that go on through to the early hours every weekend are always held in the villa opposite and you discover just how well sound travels at 4am.

I’ve witnessed the battle of the maids, dog poo wars and car washing mafia ... it’s truly free entertainment and drama and has all the makings of a soap opera.

Alas, my heady days of compound life are over, the time has come to stand alone and rent a villa on an individual plot.