Back to the Desert

We've now been back in Riyadh about a week after returning from vacation in Europe. It takes a little while to get back into the swing of things. I was actually wondering how it would feel to return to Riyadh after over two weeks away but it felt a little like coming home. Lots of unpacking, laundry, getting kids ready for school, going back to work, grocery shopping, you know, the usual.

The time back has reminded me of how friendly the people here are and how much they LOVE children. Just about everybody comments on the kids...it is really fascinating. The Saudis, Indians, Pakistanis, Sri Lankans, Filipinos...all are so incredibly, incredibly, in love with children, I have never experienced a place where person, after person, comments on, touches, asks if they can kiss, or otherwise SEES the kids. On the compound, however, I am a little weary. I am becoming increasingly skeptical about an environment in which children have so much freedom and seem for the most part to be raising themselves.

On our cul-de-sac there are 6 houses. In these 6 houses live at least 11 children. It could be more because I haven't really met two of the families yet. There are at least 4 nannies on our street. In general, the nannies are full-time/live-in nannies which pretty much means they work all day 6 days per week. Multiply all this by 50 and you pretty much have our compound. 300 homes, 550 children 150 nannies---conservatively.

Maybe because of the fact that we are walled in, parents seem to feel that their children are safer here than at home. I hear it quite frequently:

"Oh, it is such a safe place for children"
"We could never allow him/her to do at home what they can do here"
"He/she would never have the level of independence he/she has here"

So, much to my husband's dismay, I have started asking "why?"

It seems as though people believe that compound life in KSA is a safer environment than "home" for two main reasons. First the traffic, the independence of children is hampered by the amount of traffic back home. Second, risk of being "snatched", the independence of children is hampered by the risk of being kidnapped or worse back home.

I am not sure that this is really the case. At certain times of the day there are quite a few HUGE SUVs driving these streets and who is living in the compound but a bunch of random people from other countries? But more than this I am forced to ask myself: Are these the only dangers in the world for children? Is that the only job of a parent--making sure that kids don't get hit by cars or get kidnapped? And, what dangers are here that aren't present back home?

Increasingly, I am beginning to believe that the extent to which nannies are used to take care of children here is a ... danger. In an extreme and apparent class society, the nannies are little more than indentured servants. (And it seems as though many of the westerners here have forgotten where they come from and are perfectly comfortable in exploiting the balance of things.). Their job is not to raise children or help them learn valuable social lessons. Yet, here on compound, children spend the majority of their time with nannies.

I have seen children, pull the hair of, kick, hit and spit on nannies while the nannies laugh. I have seen children throw toys at babies while nannies sit and chat with each other. I have seen nannies ask children to behave while time and again the children don't listen. I have had children come home to us and ask for food when they have not been fed by their nanny. I have seen young children out wandering alone while groups of nannies congregate in the common area, etc, etc, etc

I am left wondering if living here is really much safer for children or if somehow people have been lulled into a false sense of security.

Or, maybe, I'm just too uptight.

Ramadan Kareem

Last night I had a dream. I was sitting in the back of my chauffeur driven car, riding down Göteborgsvägen when I spotted a Starbucks. (In this one sentence, my three worlds of USA, Sweden and KSA have collided) I asked the driver to pull over so I could get a coffee. He stopped and let me out and pulled away as there was no parking. As I walked up to the Starbucks I could tell right away that it was for men only. How could I tell? Well, through the glass windows I could see right away that there were no private seating areas. That is, tables with curtains or partitions around them. I decided to play dumb and walk in anyway.

"Sorry ma'am, this is the men's section"

I looked around, not really knowing what to do with myself (I really wanted a grande two-pump no whip extra hot mocha), and the man behind the counter nodded his head toward....when I looked it was another Starbucks right next door. It was right out the front door, the two cafés were looking at each other. (How did I not see that at the beginning of my dream??) I walked over and it was jam packed with people. I don't remember ordering my coffee...what I do remember was walking out up Göteborgsvägen to a large square where Krokslatt should've been.

Here, there was, what I would call a festival on Thailand. Flags were waiving, people were singing. It was lively and a lot of fun. I however, had to get to school to pick up my daughter so I decided to head back to the car. When I walked passed the woman singing, I heard her say (in Swedish) to her accompaniest "Kom igen, nu, vi kör denna igen". I thought, wow, that woman from Thailand can speak Swedish.

And, then I looked up and wondered, "Where is my car? I hope he didn't leave thinking I didn't need him any more. Where could he have gone??"

And then I woke-up.

Now, normally, I would be wondering "what does it mean" But today I am completely convinced that I know exactly what it means...it was a re-cap of my week.

First, I am drinking a lot of coffee. We purchased a Nespresso machine and it is just way too easy to get a good cup of coffee quickly. And KSA being what it is, we call to order more coffee and they deliver it, same day, to our doorstep...this is true for a lot of things...many restaurants deliver, yes, even McDonalds. There are grocery stores that will come and pick you up at your doorstep and take you to do your shopping and return you at home for free....I wonder if there is home delivery of groceries...I haven't checked into that yet.

Second, I think we have pretty much decided that we need a driver. So, we have been asking everybody that we can think of if they know anybody. I have asked everybody I know that has a driver if their driver has a friend who may need a job, I have asked the drivers that we have used and even drivers that I have seen regularly if they have friends that may be looking for work. No luck. With the decision to hire a driver we have decided not to have a full-time maid any more. That was a little difficult. Telling our maid that she should look for work elsewhere. She is from Sri Lanka and sends all of the money that she earns home so that her children can go to school. She returns home about once a year to see them. It really is a bizarre world that we live in.

Third, I had my first experience with not being able to go into an establishement because I was a woman the other day. We went out to get some take-out and went to a well known for Riyadh Lebenese restaurant. As soon as we pulled up I sensed that I wasn't going to be able to go in. The front of the restaurant was all glass and it was very well lit. I didn't see any booths only a few tables in the center of the establishment. My husband being a man doesn't really have to think about these things. I said to him, maybe you should go in and see if I can come in and if not you can bring a menu out. Sure enough, he came back right away with a menu. So, we sat in the car and looked through the menu, circled the items we wanted, and he went back inside to order. Then he came out and waited with me.

As I was sitting in the car watching all of the men get out of their cars, go in and order, and come out with there little packages of dinner to go, I tried to imagine, how it must be for the typical Arab.

It may seem from afar that women get the short end of the stick in this society but, I wonder if that is really the case in practice. Here, it is families that are the social network. When you go into a shopping mall, people travel in entourages...4, 5, 6 , people-- men, women and children walk together. Or, large groups of women, but, I have yet to see large groups of men doing things together. Even at this restaurant, that was men only, people were coming and picking up loads of food to take back to their, I can only assume... families. There weren't any groups of men just hanging out having a good time.

I also saw men with little girls with them. Daddys and daughters I assume. The little girls were allowed to run around in and out of the restaurant, no problem. I wondered how it must be for these little girls when they no longer get to go with daddy to pick up dinner. Is it a disappointment for these girls or is it a sign of maturity...something that many coming-of-age children long for--acknowledgement from their elders that they are no longer children. I don't know, it would be interesting to ask.

I have a difficult time believing today that this is an awful place for women. At least, I am not sure that it is any more awful for women than it is for men, especially young single men. (For young single men, I believe, although I don't know, that KSA is a rather difficult place to be) Before we came, everybody was suspicious about the treatment of women in this country. But when I walk around I see women holding their heads high, in control, warm, lively, outgoing, stylish, confident.....These attributes just don't seem to be in-line with a group that is oppressed and poorly treated as a whole.

But I have met (western) women here that say that they feel disgust when they see the women walking around in their abayas and hijab. What do they see that I don't? (and now as I write it I am thinking, am I that insensitive???). Of course, I am just brushing society, not in it.

I think the thing that may be most bothersome for me isn't the segregation of the sexes, isn't the abaya, isn't the hijab, isn't the not being able to drive. Getting a taxi here is no different than getting a taxi anyplace else, taking off my abaya when I go in to get my haircut is no different than taking off my coat when I come in from the rain..the segretgation is new, but I rarely notice it. What is most unsettling maybe is that those that would like something different are not able to leave here at will. That as a woman one must be given permission to leave the country. (I think that even Saudi men have to apply to exit but women need their husband or guardian to give them permission to exit). Even myself, a "free" (as free as any of us can be...which, if you have ever tried to move between countries, isn't very and aren't we all captive of our culture? and a laundry list of other things?) western woman needed my husband to apply for my exit visa.

OK where was I? Fourth, yes fourth. Fourth is that it is Ramadan. Which means (for us at least) NOTHING is happening. Everything is closed until 8:00 or 9:00 at night when it opens until 3:00 or 4:00 in the morning...restaurants, shopping, beauty salons, etc, etc, etc. As Muslims do not eat during daylight hours during Ramadan the entire country has changed its rhythm--namely, night is day and day is night. People sleep later, and are up all night. Even our western Muslim expat friends who are here are not used to it. It must be so wonderful for them to have an entire country celebrating with them. We, however, still keep our normal routine. Up at 5am bed at...well, it is so early its embarrassing! Do I want to come in for a haircut sometime between 8:30pm and 3:30am??? I'd be snoring in the chair! So, I don't know, maybe my subconscious was longing for (a) a festival, (b) some excitement or (c) a vacation...which I am getting tomorrow..so problem solved :-)