I had the privilege of spending two of the last four weeks back on American soil. The 6th floor of one of New York City’s great hotels was my residence for 14 days. My first night back in the states, I casually strolled into the pharmacy across the street, without even a pause in remembrance of my long lost abaya. The guy at the counter struck up a conversation with me and suddenly I couldn’t help but feel the excitement of the familiar. In Saudi, casual dialogue is not exactly something that I find common, especially not with a female, unilingual American, such as myself. I laughed, thinking that absence really does make the heart grow fonder. I miss the general conversation and chatter that is so ordinary in the US. While the lack of personal exchange is not meant to be a “diss”, it is something that has been an adjustment. I’m sure that it’s similar in concept to a lack of eye contact – a sign of respect and humility amongst the people of this country.
While in the States, I visited with friends and was reminded of how lucky I feel to have these people in my life. As I was expecting, the return trip to Saudi was tainted with a sort of sadness about not having those daily interactions. As typically a very social person, the isolation here got the better of me, post-USA. We’ve all heard the phrase, “location, location, location”. Most Ex-Pats that come to Saudi live in compounds with other people from their same country or find themselves among people with similar backgrounds and/or origins. My situation is rather unique. My compound is small and there are roughly two people here on a regular basis who speaks English. So how does one make friends here without the benefits of location?
Mingling between sexes in Saudi Arabia is not allowed (unless you’re related or married). There are no bars or clubs for impromptu nights out. There are no movie theaters or bowling alleys. Additionally, women are not allowed to sit in public at restaurants or coffee houses. I’ve been doing some research and networking to meet people here, but the process is not easy. It’s a fact that the internet has been a good source for social connections for well over a decade now; however as evidenced by countless stories in the US, it is not always the safest means of meeting people. I have joined the local Ex-Pat site and find myself getting responses from people that make me weary of connection. Given that meeting in public is not quite an option, initial get-togethers take place within the home. Meeting someone over the internet, in their home, makes me obviously a little nervous.
The weekend in Saudi is Thursday and Friday, an obvious change from the weekend in western countries. This has also contributed to difficulty with socialization. Although I live here, I am operating on an American schedule, meaning that my weekends are still Saturday and Sunday. I found a running group, however their races are on Friday mornings, making it impossible for me to attend. Despite these few setbacks, I know from previous experience and adaptation that there are connections to be made, no matter where you are…and in one of these blogs, I will soon talk about the friends I have made here. I’m sure of it.
Two days after my return, the King of Saudi Arabia arrived home from three months away. The typically beige streets of Riyadh were lined with bright new flowers and tiny white lights were skillfully threaded from street lamp to street lamp. Saudi Arabian flags tripled in numbers as workers hung them nearly every 10 feet. King Abdullah’s picture is everywhere here. It’s on buildings, billboards, sides of buses, and countless other places; his return was a good reason to show it off even more. GIANT welcoming signs for the King were placed over every bridge and at every intersection. When he and his entourage finally rolled in, the people of his kingdom lined the streets to see him. They held up signs of praise and love and ran after his car as a way to show their affection for him. I thought it was interesting that in a country where democracy does not exist and rules are guided by a single voice; people displayed the same emotion they do when the President of the United States steps out into the public eye, having been voted into office democratically. Although freedom of speech is more welcomed in the U.S., and words of protest or displeasure usually accompany appearances by the President, I did not see any negative protesters.
I’m sure you’re aware (or at least I hope), of the turmoil which has gripped the Middle East the last several weeks. My family members have asked me how I’m doing here and what’s happening. My friends have sent emails wishing and hoping for my safety. Right now, nearly every bordering country to Saudi Arabia is in the news for remonstrations of leadership and declarations of personal choice and freedom. The Muslim brotherhood is being challenged, yet continues to be the fastest growing faith in our time. In psychology (as well other professions, I’m sure), there is a term called “groupthink.” It is basically the idea that people as a whole operate with a singular sort of mentality, rather than call upon each individual’s sense of morals, problem solving skills, or decision making abilities. It is what accounts for people “going along with the crowd.” Although their message is strong and warranted, I think this concept has gotten the better of my neighboring Middle Eastern countries. For me, at this moment, Saudi Arabia feels like a bubble in the midst of all of this chaos. The local news only covers a limited amount of information, so as not to distribute the images or ideas throughout the country (I have an American news channel on my compound, that has provided the most frequent and vivid images of what’s happening here). The day of his return the King announced a 38 billion dollar social benefits package to the members of his kingdom; 15 percent increase in pay, unemployment money for a year, promotion of education and funding. The difference between this country and what I know of my country is that people will actually feel the benefits of this deal, long before the buzz from it wears out.
A commonly worn item of clothing here is called the “thobe.” Thobes are one piece, long dresses, worn by most of the women here as casual clothing. When I first arrived, I though they looked a little like “moo-moo’s”, only tighter fitting. Having been here for a while now, they took on a more comfortable look and I decided to go along with the crowd. I bought a brown, silk thobe with painted flowers of pink, and red, and yellow. As someone that is 5’2 ¾ (the ¾ is important if you’re under 5’5), nearly everything I buy needs to be hemmed. Herein lays a problem. I asked my driver to take me to a tailor so that I could get my thobe and a few other things taken up and in. I’m not sure why I was surprised when the man at the tailor asked me why there weren’t pins in my clothes indicating how much they should be hemmed. You see, as evidenced by the demand to wear an abaya and not show the female figure, women can’t try clothes on in front of men. It’s the same with shopping stores; there are no dressing rooms for women. The item has to be bought, taken home, tried on in private, and either kept or returned within three days. I asked him, “how am I supposed to measure the length and pin it myself when the clothes are on me?” He simply handed me back the items and basically told me to figure it out for myself. I asked my Muslim neighbor for some assistance with this problem. She mentioned to me that there are female dress makers located in relatively secret buildings in the city.
Back on the road again, my driver pulled up to a windowless, stucco building that we have driven past a dozen times. A huge iron door was the only adornment on the façade of the place. I pushed a little button located to the left of the door and as if I were in some sort of haunted house, the door swung open with no one standing on the other side of it. I stepped inside and out from behind the door stood a little Filipino woman who told me that this was a women’s salon. She opened the door in such a manner because women cannot be seen in public without the proper attire, not even to open a door for a customer. Although there was no dressmaker, I thought the whole experience was definitely worth acknowledging as pretty cool – simply for the shear strangeness and greatness of seeing what was inside. As I told my mom that night, at least I know where to get a pedicure now.
While in the states, I attended the wedding of a dear friend. My student asked me about what I wore to the event during a conversation after we returned to Saudi. She was stunned when I didn’t tell her that I was wearing a ball gown, with professional makeup and hair to accompany the fabulous dress. She told me that weddings in Saudi are a huge affair and that gowns are worn and money is spent. Fortunately for me, she was attending one a few days later and mentioned that she would phone my villa to come see her after she was done getting ready. I was unaware that weddings generally start around midnight and last until the daylight hours of the next day. So when my phone rang at 10:30pm, I was already in my pajamas and Western Michigan sweatshirt, having already called it a night. No excuse to miss this though, I fixed myself up and headed out. I should not have been surprised, but the dress may have been one of the most beautiful I have ever seen. I’m hoping to be a fly on the wall at a Muslim wedding one of these days, to see everyone in their grandness and glory.
On a departing note, I have discovered a new food obsession; it’s actually a two-parter and definitely not a complicated dish. Part one: Arabic bread is a flat, round, pita looking type of concoction. It is thin and delicious and although similar items exist in the states, there is something unique about how it is made and something extra tasty in knowing that it is made here. Part two: as with many major labels, different foods are distributed to different parts of the world under the same company name. Kraft makes a cheese spread here that is not made in the states. They call it “Cream Cheese Spread”, although it does not represent the cream cheese that I know and love in America. As a snack, the cheese is often spread onto the bread and rolled up into a very handy and portable meal. Simple, yes…delicious, oh yes.
