The Mating Game

Before I moved to Riyadh I read a book, Girls of Riyadh by Rahaa Alsanea.

The story recounts the encounters with life of 4 college girls who are close friends. It touches on what life is like for young women in Saudi Arabia, at least women who come from what can be described as the upper class. It probably goes without saying that the book touches also on the relationship between men and women in this highly controlled Islamic society. There are some rather tragic occurrences as far as love is concerned and after reading the book I was left with a sense of compassion for not only the young women of Saudi Arabia but also for the young men. The relationships between men and women are completely controlled by the family which means that not only are the young women forced by their culture, duty, honor to behave a certain way but so are the men.

Since living in Saudi Arabia I have seen this difficulty for young men and women. The most striking example is the shopping mall. Young single men are stopped by security at the doors to large shopping malls and not let in. They (young men) also circle shopping malls with their cars...(they cruise the shopping malls!) holding out signs with their phone numbers on them while women are lined up waiting for their drivers (as they can not approach each other). An attempt to come into contact with the opposite sex.

But what has been interesting to me is since I have moved here I have gotten a flood of friend requests on Facebook and the like:

Firas Abu Thabet

Mohammed Mifzaal Tungekar

Tarik Laalilisse

Meshari Alnassar

Dadz Baligtad

Abram Emil

mrc03

Waleed40

gemadesigner

turki009

jwilliam

footix

abdullah099

nightshift

etc,

etc,

etc...

all want to be my friends..it must be lonely to not be able to meet people freely. To not be able to have a friendly exchange. To not be able to "hang out". To not be able to meet for coffee. To not be able to talk on the phone. To not be able to "date", grab a burger, all of the things that seem so easy for others of that age.

Images of Riyadh

A lot of people have been writing to me and asking me to post pictures. I don't feel 100% confortable taking pictures in public. Taking pictures here is... sensitive. So here, I am posting some pictures taken by others (sorry and thanks) of things I have seen and experienced in Riyadh.

Looking over Riyadh city center. The tall building is al Faisaliah Tower, one of two man made landmarks...in a city with no water and no mountains and where everything is about two storys high and sand colored..these babies come in handy! The round ball at the top is called The Globe and is a restaurant. http://www.alfaisaliahhotel.com/dine5.cfm

Kingdom tower (the other landmark!), Riyadh city center. The very top of this building is a sky bridge. http://kingdomcentre.com.sa/kc/skybridge/

The shopping malls are pretty normal looking ...

I see this building every time I leave the house...

A couple of the local souks...

As you may be able to tell, being here is rather...confusing. At times, it is like being on an exclusive vacation and at other times it fells like being on a backpackers' adventure!

Taking the Back Seat

After 10 months in Riyadh, it may be time for me to toughen up and get wise....

Part of me doesn't even want to write this because I am feeling a little bit like an idiot but at the same time, if I am going to have a blog about living in Saudi Arabia, I better be willing to share what it is like (for me at least) to live in Saudi Arabia...or, what is the point?

Since we've moved here we have used a driver from Pakistan. He has been really good to the kids and really helpful. I have trusted him and been thankful for his help....especially in the beginning when everything felt so foreign. Anyway, up until about March he was even driving our daughter to school and picking her up. So he has gotten to know the kids really well, and they are always happy to see him.

Then, my husband's employer said that they would provide transportation for our kids to and from school. There is a policy at his work that no children of the employees should be riding on school buses and the car they are riding in should of a certain size...think Suburban. This is for "security reasons". So, in comes a new/additional driver, a Saudi. He too is nice, the kids like him and he speaks well of my husband and family. Seems to be friendly to everybody and never says a bad word about others. That is usually my bottom line judge of character. If a person can get through a conversation without complaining about others then I believe them to be pretty decent...and believe me, it isn't many that can do it, people love to complain about others. Both of the drivers are the type of people that seem to be kind at heart. In a place where racism and classism run rampant, they give everybody a smile and a wave and the Saudi driver doesn't get shaken up when he is being bullied for being an Arab. It happens. The foreigners here (Fillapino, Pakastani, Indian, Bangladeshi, etc, etc) rip on the Saudis and give them such a hard time...it is interesting.

It is somewhat of an important point to me. Because I am a woman I use a driver whenever I go somewhere. The compound also offers drivers so sometimes I use these drivers and I have in the months that I have been here probably met 10+ drivers and they are not all helpful, they are not all nice to the kids, and they are not all warm, friendly or outgoing. I feel lucky when I meet a driver that is these things because at the end of the day, I am spending quite a bit of time with them.

Now, two weeks ago I called our Pakastani driver. I wanted to go shopping with a girl friend of mine and wanted him to drive us for the morning. He didn't answer. It was somebody else, and as you may imagine, there is a language barrier. What I got out of the conversation was that he was in the hospital and (I think) having some sort of surgery.

Two days ago he called, yes he had been in the hospital, something with his stomach. Even with this driver that I have spent a lot of time with the language barrier is present but I do get out of it that he is going home to Kashmir in approx 2 days and the future is uncertain for him. I invite him to stop by when he has a minute so we can say goodbye.

Now when my husband leaves I usually know that I have our Pakastani driver (aka MAN) to rely on if we should need anything. But, when my husband left for this trip to Europe, I didn't know what was happening with the driver other than he was in the hospital. So, I asked the new company driver if he didn't know somebody that could drive for us. At that, he said that he would do it. He was already taking the kids to school and he explained that he got off of work at 3:00 in the afternoon which meant that we are his last pick-up of the day. He comes here at 1:30 everyday and takes me to pick up my daughter from school. So he could theoretically pick up our car and leave the company car on the days when I have to run errands. He and my husband talk about it and it is decided. He'll drive for me this week while my husband is gone in the afternoons if I need it. It also gives me somebody to call in case of an emergency that can drive and that knows Arabic and Riyadh. I immediately feel better about my husband leaving us for a week.

Now, when the company driver arrives in the big company Suburban I hop in the back in my abaya and sit with the kids. But when he arrives in our little (well, compared to a Suburban) Four Runner (or whatever it is) I sit in the front. The two car seats take up about all of the width of the car. I could get between the two, but it is quite cramped and I have to crawl over a car seat to get into the middle. In the car, our daughter picks the music and it is usually something pretty up beat and by the time we get home we are all singing and laughing and usually car dancing. The driver is even joining in, teasing our daughter because he doesn't know any of the words to our western music but is adding in his own to the tune trying to get her to laugh. Innocent good fun.

Today when we pulled up after school, our Pakistani driver was waiting out in front of the house. I was so happy to see him that I got out of the car, went up to him and, now I didn't kiss him on the check but I did put my cheek close to his cheek (no, no touching) and gave a little smack with the lips...on both sides (you know, how the french great each other. It is very common here that people greet one another in that manner). I didn't even think about what I was doing. I was greeting a "friend" in my eyes. I failed to consider that this "friend" is our driver and does not come from the compound world but comes from the off-compound world. We come from two different classes, two different worlds and maybe above all, I am a woman and he is a man. But, these things I didn't think about, I only thought that here is a person that has been in our lives for almost a year on almost a daily basis, that has taken care of our family to a certain extent, that is ill and looks it and I was happy to see him.

I introduced the two men and our daughter ran around trying to find a picture she had drawn for our "old" driver. Then we said good-bye to our "new" driver and sat down on the front porch. I asked our guest if he wanted to come in but he said no. He never does.

Then he looks at me, solemnly, and says,

"Madam, he is Arab, you must be careful, never trust anybody"

I am thinking it is personal. That old Pakastani driver does not think we should trust new Arab driver. But, as the conversation unfolds I realize that I have committed several infractions (these weren't specifically pointed out to me, but in the course of the conversation, I come to realize...remember where I am):

1. Sitting in the front seat with an Arab man
2. Singing, laughing and smiling while sitting in the front seat with an Arab man
3. Greeting a man in a manner that could be perceived as non-virtuous (ie: wicked, sinful, bad, vile, etc., etc.)
4. Inviting a man inside my home

"Madam, you're husband isn't home is he?" our old driver asks in a rhetorical manner. He didn't want me to answer, he knew, he wanted me to understand.

And then my head starts spinning a little. It may not necessarily be the Arab driver, personally, that the Pakastani driver is concerned about (although I do get the hint that just because he is Arab he should not be trusted), it is the environment. The (other Arab) men that guard the compound(s) and see me coming and going with an Arab man for example could very well call the authorities and "report" what they think they may have witnessed...nothing in my eyes, but a lot in theirs. I also get the feeling that the same rules do not apply to everybody here. When it comes to virtue, the Arabs may be holding themselves to a higher standard and while it may be perfectly alright for an American woman to for example sit in the front seat with a Pakastani driver it may not be OK to sit in the front seat with an Arab driver.

For the first time (apart from those first few outings) I start to feel a little unsafe. Who can I call?

Friend #1, American married to an Arab:

"You are kind of in a tough spot."

"Better to remove the car seats and put one of the kid on your lap and sit in the back seat."

"Don't worry, I have committed almost every infraction imaginable, live and learn"

Friend #2, American married to a Moroccan:

"You know, I wouldn't worry. If you were Arab or Lebanese or middle eastern, yes but, you are an American, they understand that we just don't get it"

Friend #3 Norwegian married to a Norwegian

"You know, I had a conversation with my driver (not Arab) a long time ago about living in Saudi Arabia and he said that 10 years ago a woman would not have been able to sit in the front seat but that today that isn't the case."

"You probably should consider the fact that jealousy could be involved. Your old driver has a sense of responsibility for you and your family and now he is leaving and you are moving on to a new driver"

Friend #4 Canadian married to a Lebanese

"Since I have been living in the middle east I have changed so much. I never offer my hand to a man unless he extends his hand first, I never make eye contact...even on the compound."

Needless to say that the next day I sat in the back seat. I tried my best not to sing along to the music or make too much eye contact with our driver and I certainly didn't car dance.....

Not Without My Daughter

I have to say that I think we have had good fortune. Living as we live on a compound, not speaking Arabic, and our children not attending a national school, we have had the good fortune of meeting some Saudi nationals. Today the grand total is four. We live in Saudi Arabia and we know four Arabs and I am not sure if one of them counts. They are all men. Three of whom are married to non-Saudis. All of whom are living here in Saudi Arabia.

We were talking to one of the wives the other night and she told us about the story of her moving here from the US. Of course her family's first reaction was panic (not unlike my family's reaction). At this I said,

"They've probably been watching too much Not Without My Daughter"

"Yes", she replies, "when they start to worry or wonder what we are up to they always call my husband with accusation in their voices" Even though they've been married for several years and have half-grown children, the family at home in the US still worries that the Arab is going to harm their daughter.

I started thinking, what if people believed that all American's

only eat at McDonalds
are obese
are racist
are violent
...etc, etc

Many people do believe these things about Americans and what a warped view of the US these people must have...A country of 300 million obese individuals, eating breakfast, lunch and dinner at McDonalds, hating others because of their race, all the while violence running rampant. Doesn't sound like a very nice place to me.

But really, I couldn't remember what actually happened in Not Without My Daughter...Sally Field was married to a man from the middle east, I think I remember that he seemed a kind man. He then wants to move the family to his home country and there he turns into a crazy man who pretty much imprisons the wife and child in their own home..is that how it went?

It made me wonder what we think when met by a piece of work out of Hollywood or even the news:

Sensational or undramatic

Deviant or average

Extreme or normal

Don't they call them dramatizations for a reason?

In reality,

CBS Healthwatch wrote an article about fast food in 2001. In the article, they write that 25% of Americans eat fast food. If 25% eat fast food that means that 75% don't.. So at least 75% of the US population does not eat at McDonalds.

According to the CDC, the US state with the highest rate of obesity is Mississippi (2009). Here, the obesity rate is 34.4%. This may be high and we may have a lot of feelings about it but this is far from every American...in fact, most Americans are not obese.

You get the point.

But this idea of all Arab men being untrustworthy and all women in the middle east being what we in the west would consider abused to some extent...how do we ourselves measure up on this score? According to the National Coalition Against Domestic Violence:

1 in 4 women in the US will fall victim to DV in their lifetimes

1.3 million women are victims of physical assault by an intimate partner each year

85% of DV victims are women

Most cases of DV are never reported to the police

So, isn't that the pot calling the kettle black

Mutaawa!

Last night we went out with some friends. The plan was to go out to dinner and then come back to our place for some friendly competition, board game style. As the final prayer of the day was at 7:45pm we decided to make our dinner reservation for just after prayer at 8:20. In the evening you never know what traffic is going to be like. From about 6:00pm - 12:00am it is rush hour. Here the day is flipped around. Anyway, we arrived at the restaurant at 7:50 so we had some time to wait. We decided to walk around and wait for the doors of the restaurant to (re) open. The weather was nice and well waiting outside seemed like a better idea then waiting in the car...that is, right up until the Mutaawa (religious police) showed up.

A car, like a Jeep Cherokee, (although I can't be sure because I didn't really give it a good look) with lights flashing slowed and stopped in the street by where we were standing and one of the men in our group said:

"Is that the Mutaawa?"

Now, for some reason, even though there is no reason to be frightened, my natural reaction is to panic and my girlfriend and I both turn our backs to the street and look at our husbands. As we are women the Mutaawa are not allowed to address us...so if we were alone, they could not come up to us but they get out of their car and approach us. And what is interesting is that they are really young.

"Arabic?"

"What?"

"Arabic?"

"What...no"

The man takes hold of his ghuttra (the red checkered scarf men wear here) and starts signing to us (as it is apparent his english is not very good) It is clear that he wants us (the women) to cover our hair. But our friend says,

"If your women came to our country we wouldn't ask them to cover their hair"

He stands there in strong defiance, staring at the Mutaawa with no apparent discomfort, just a calm lack of respect. He is much bigger than they are. (Now, this is not me, I'll gladly cover my hair, without a word, just to get them to go away and avoid any confrontation) And that is what we did. We quickly covered our hair, silently, not looking at them. I missed part of the exchange in my scrambling to cover my hair because, yes, on the inside, I just want them to GO AWAY!

But I do hear:

"Go house!"

"Go house!"

"Go house!"

Some more words are exchanged between the men and then the Mutaawa leave. I ask,

"Did they want us to go home?"

No. Apparently they thought

(1) we should not be outside during prayer but we weren't the only ones out on the street and the whole thing is kind of lost on us non-muslims,

(2) we should not be wearing sandals. This I have actually thought about several times but hey, it is HOT here and no, I'm not sticking my feet in sweaty shoes just because the Mutaawa don't want my amazingly sexy toes showing and

(3) our hair should be covered.

So in 9 months that is my second run in with the Mutaawa and I have to say, even though I feel uncomfortable ---because I am expecting them to be rude and mean (probably because of what I have read and imagined before coming here)---they are not, they are polite and non-threatening.

The Safety of Marriage

So the other night I was in bed sleeping and woke up to a terrible itching sensation on the ring finger of my left hand. This has happened several times before in the past few months. I remove my wedding rings to find a red pealing rash of some sort...oh, how it itches! The pharmacist seems to think I have developed an allergic reaction to gold. My first thought...I guess I get to go pick out new platinum wedding rings! Although, truth be told, I believe wedding rings should be gold. (Could be the fault of Freda Payne and the countless others who have sung about gold bands...but I couldn't be sure)

For several days now I haven't been wearing my wedding rings. But today, I am going out on a shopping excursion. Our daughter's school is having a Saudi Arabia theme week and on Wednesday they are to come clad in Arabian wear. So, today I will go out and buy my 6 year old an abaya. As I am getting ready, I am eyeing my wedding rings. I think to myself, should I put them on? And, after considering it for awhile, I do.

As little as I want to be swayed by other's opinions, I have to admit with this action that I am. I have heard several times that single women are more likely to be harassed in KSA than married women. Now, I have never been harassed, and if you have read this blog you know that I have never felt intimidated or offended or uncomfortable or, or, or. In fact, as a woman that has grown up in the US with a lot of freedom I can say that there have been several occasions during my lifetime in the US where I have felt threatened...there have been times when I have crossed the street to avoid coming too close to what I have sensed as danger, or have had to ignore remarks made at my passing by, at least once I was physically grabbed by a man while walking down the streeet...but here? never. Granted, I am not out as much here as I would be out other places, I haven't been here very long and I do not speak the language..but even when I moved to Sweden I experienced a certain amount of discomfort and uncertainty, yes maybe even fear due to the fact that I didn't speak the language..but here? not so much.

Is it really more dangerous here? Hostle. That's how my neighbor put it in our brief meeting yesterday. Hostle.

"Hi how are you?"

"Good! How are you?"

"We're fine, how are you adjusting to life in KSA?"

"It's good, I like it. The weather is wonderful and it is really easy to meet people...very social. I like it"

"Yes, well I guess it gets social because we are in such a hostile environment. It makes us want to stick together."

It does? Really? Is that why I am meeting people? Because I (and they) feel threatened by my (our) environment? I don't see it...or feel it.

Am I just naive?

Running Errands in the Kingdom

In many ways, living in Saudi Arabia is very relaxing. It is a calm way of life where everything seems to move a little in slow motion. Most of the people I meet here seem not to have a care in the world. And, even though Riyadh is a big city with a lot of trafic, people do not seem to be stressed out or in a big rush.

I sometimes feel the complete opposite. I feel that I am always aware of the time because of prayer. Yesterday (well I actually wrote this quite awhile ago so not really yesterday) I had planned to take the kids to a shopping mall. I needed a dress, and I thought they would appreciate playing in the amusement park. I had asked our maid to come with so that we could split up if need be. I asked my driver to be here at 9:00 and our maid was also going to come at 9:00. I knew the shops inside the mall didn't open until 10:00 but thought we could get there early, walk around, and be where we needed to be at 10:00 to maximize our usable time. Just under 2 hours.

At 20 after the driver pulled up. We buckled in the car seats and loaded the kids into the car. At 9:30 the maid called. We picked her up on the way out of the compound. So at 9:50 we were on our way. So much for being early. Everybody full of smiles, and me looking at the time. The ride was pleasant. The two in the front sharing all of the places they thought the kids and I should visit. I must admit, I didn't catch most of it. They seemed to understand each other but I have a difficult time with some of the english exchanged between a Pakistani and a Fillapina.

We arrived at the mall well after 10:00. I sent the kids right away to the amusement park and I wend on a hunt for a dress. I didn't find a dress but I did find a new abaya. In the shop they sell the abayas in XXXXXXXXL and then they tailor them. After measuring and asking how I would like it to fit, the man said the alteration would take about 15 minutes. NO problem, I could go buy the kids some chalk and come back. When I came back they said they needed more time and would call me when finished.

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock.

It was already 11:30. I had to go get the kids and get lunch ordered before prayer at 11:54 (the prayer times change every day) so I walked all the way to the other end of the mall, went down three flights and rallied the troops toward the food court. As we waited in line the two women in front of us were so taken with the kids that they turned around and started talking to us. Pinching cheeks, running fingers through the kids hair.

"Where are you from?"

"How long have you been here?"

"What do you think of Saudi Arabia?"

"Saudi Arabia welcomes you!!"

As I was waiting for my food, my phone rang and it was my abaya ready to be picked up. I told the man on the other end that it wasn't going to happen, I was waiting for food, the kids were sitting, waiting, hungry. So, he offered to deliver the abaya to me at the food court. How is that for service?! Only one problem----no single men in the family section. He was stopped by security trying to deliver my abaya to me!

After eating, taking the kids by the play area and calling for the driver we mozied down to the pick-up area. While we were waiting two men started trying to get Elliot's attention. It is really festive to see these men -- in their crisp white throbes, red and white checkered ghutra headdress --squatting down, smiling trying to coax a toddler over to them. Their attempts were thwarted, as every time he came to within 3 meters of them, he turned with a smile and ran the other way. Finally, they were forced by their inner desire to come over and chat with us.

"What's your son's name?"

"Where are you from?"

"You speak really good english!"

"How long were you in the States?"

Some of you may be wondering, well, why did they ask the last question? It is because when people (strangers) ask me where I am from I always say Sweden. It isn't exactly a lie. I am technically here from Sweden. I moved to KSA from Sweden. I have a Swedish passport, I have Swedish citizenship, and my iquama (visa) is based on my Swedish passport. However, I'm not really Swedish. So, although Sweden is the non-controversial answer, I do always feel a little strange saying that I am from Sweden.

"You speak really good english!"

"American english!"

"Yes, I've spent a lot of time there" I guess I could have said "thank-you." But, I just love these little encounters I get to have with Saudi nationals...it isn't often, but every time it has happened I've been so happy. Every time it has been pleasant and positive. I hope that before we leave here, we actually have a Saudi friend.

(A few weeks ago, when I was setting up my phone with a new plan, the man helping me was very nice and finally I said to him, "you speak very good english". "Yes," he said, "I've lived most of my life in the US". His father was a diplomat and he lived during his childhood in Washington DC. I asked if he had been back to visit. And he said, not since September 11th. As a person that has moved around in the world, I thought this a little sad. Although he was proud of being a Saudi ("I am Saudi, my mother is Saudi, my father is Saudi.") There is something about childhood experiences and places that people hold close to their hearts. When I left he gave me his card and said that we could call anytime, even if we just wanted some ideas about what to do in Riyadh. Nice.)

"How long were you in the States?" Boy how I was sorry that I had said anything about being from Sweden and about spending a lot of time in the states....I'm not a very good bender of the truth. I could've said, "I've been there a lot, I have family there" Or something. I could've said I was American... but, after almost 10 years of being an American in the world, I like being from a non-controversial place. I've had enough of being a "spokesperson" for American foreign policy, enough of defending or even having an opinion about the US, enough of correcting small or large ignorances about the American people, enough of answering questions about the "typical American". I am a typical American (ok well, maybe not anymore, I guess I don't know) and I don't even know what that means.... luckily the phone rang and interrupted our conversation right when they were awaiting a reply, it was the driver who had arrived. We said some quick good-byes and left. But not before the men gave the kids each a piece of chewing gum.

French for Beginners

When we were getting ready to move to Saudi Arabia, I got asked quite often if I was going to learn Arabic. I hadn't really decided but knew myself that I would have to make a conscious decision as to whether I would try to learn Arabic or not. I decided to not. Why? Well, learning a new language takes time and energy and I thought that maybe that time and energy would be better spent on other things...swimming with the kids for example.

Fast forward 9 months. I'm getting my haircut. I have been regularly going to a salon off-compound. Some of the women speak english but not all...Arabic is the language to know if you're going to chat. So the idea was festering again. Should I learn Arabic? It would make certain things easier, I think I would understand my surroundings a little bit more and of course get a better feel for the people and the culture...but Arabic? That means new alphabet, guttural stops, reading from right to left....I already speak two languages, how much time and energy am I willing to put into this?

After checking into a local school where Arabic is taught, I started to realize that really, the language that I have most contact with here is not Arabic but French. Then I started thinking about all of the times we've been to France...skiing, wine tasting, Paris, the Riviera, Normandie, Avignon...France is one of those countries that seems to have it all...and the food, did I mention the food? I am one of those people that thinks food is one of life's simple pleasures and a good (bad) meal can make (or break) an entire day.

So all of a sudden I started thinking maybe Arabic isn't the language to learn, maybe it is French....when I looked into an on-line course I found that the 12th lesson was entitled "I've got a hangover" Now, I must say, I'm really intrigued.

Saudi Arabia is (not) a Class Society

Yesterday I read an interesting article in the newspaper. One of the princes at a talk he gave at one of the universities told the audience that Saudi Arabia is not a class society. His argument was that since all people are equal according the the Qur'an and that Saudi Arabia is an Islamic country, that it is not a class society. The reason I found this interesting is because Saudi Arabia is a class society to the extreme:

Job postings list the nationality that are allowed to apply for different positions. Higher ranking positions are available only to Saudi, European and North American applicants. Lower ranking positions are divided between far east, asian, subsaharan, north african etc applicants.

I am not exaggerating when I say that many domestic workers here are indentured servants. Along with their sponsorship to come to Saudi Arabia they are expected to pay their sponsors monthly. Others get here and their sponsors refuse to pay them making it impossible for the individual to return home without "fleeing" from their sponsor in search of another (illegal) employment in order to raise the funds to go home.

In other words, in Saudi Arabia there is class distinction between:

the powerful and the powerless

the rich and the poor

the culture of origin

and these distinctions are openly maintained by design.

I was interested in the Prince's inability to say that Saudi Arabia IS a class society and should not be, we should do all we can as Muslims in an Islamic state to eradicate class from our society as is taught in the Qur'an.