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.
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