#8 Where am I and Why?

As noted in the last blog I am pretty much half way through my assignment here in Riyahd, in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. I signed up for 3 months starting mid-February culminating with my departure back to Winnipeg early (1:00 am) on May 14th.

As I have tried to elucidate in these blogs from my previous adventures (Timor and Nigeria - I didn't understand blogs in 2001 when I spent six weeks in India) there are many benefits and pitfalls of doing international work. The first thing you realize, and for me similar to the feeling your the only person in the world that has to get up when the alarm rings before the dawn, is that you are not alone as there are many people/families that find themselves in some far away land many miles from home. For example my neighbor here in the Villa where we live, is a Canadian school teacher from BC, with her French (France French) husband and there 3 year old son Sebastian who have been doing international work for approximately 11 years in various location throughout the world. While not exactly sure of their motivation compared to mine (the longest stint I have done away from home is only nine months) one thing is abundantly clear; in almost all cases: you wouldn't do it unless there was some incentive for doing so. In the case of most educated people in the western world that motivation is money. I'm not sure about career diplomats such as ambassadors, but for everyone else it seems money is at the very least the initial draw.The exception being that in this part of the world as noted before, there are many immigrants here from India, Pakistan, and the Philippines (among other nationalities), and some of their motivation is as simple as finding work when there is no opportunity for work in their respective homeland. The hairdresser that does business in our Compound is a woman in her late 50's from the Philippines, as she mentioned to me when I went to have work done, she is here, and has been from some 20 years, because she wants to work and there is no work for here back home.

The first question I have to ask is when you have been away from your original home so long - where is home now? I met a Filipino man the other day that has been in the Kingdom for 21 years! Unlike friends or family back home that may move elsewhere in Canada or even the United States, it becomes fairly clear with these people after time, kids, houses etc that there home is now there. Internationally I don't know if the same general rule applies. While I'm sure there are many instances that home is that new place when, for example, you find a local spouse, is it ever really home versus the place where you live? I like cliché’s and what fits here is: home is where the heart is. An interesting question certainly, that I have no answer for.

That said, lets make that assumption that for my circumlocution, most people like myself are initially motivated by the extra money they will earn. I will not deny that the extra money you earn is a nice bonus, and as I found out in Timor especially, sometimes it isn't the extra money you make compared to the money you don't spend. For me though I have found that while I will never refuse the extra money I am more cognizant of what you give up. 

As with most things in life there is a cost - benefit to every choice we make. Most of these costs in this instance are intangible - while I don't have to pay my $100+ cable/Internet bill every month, what is the cost of not being with family and friends I miss, the convenience of knowing your local environment, having a Costco to go to, or having no language barriers? Unlike previous international work I have been fortunate enough to do, this one is different in that I miss the responsibility and time with my dog (Norm), as I don't have a wife or children to miss (though some argue convincingly otherwise in that the family dog is sometimes the only one that is always happy to see you)! I miss the normality that being at home affords you. The other cost that I am finding more poignant now versus the past as I get closer and closer to retirement: it is time off that has as much or more value in relation to the extra dollars in the bank. Here we work five day week with no holidays (we get neither Saudi or Canadian stat holidays) whereas back at home I enjoyed Statutory Holidays and every second Monday off (a Hydro perk non hydro people will not have any sympathy for).

As everyone is different and place different values on things, sometimes these decisions can be agonizingly hard or relatively easy. For example this can be a perfect avenue to escape something at home you chose to run away from (a messy separation, losing a job, ex-partners, etc), or just take a break from the daily grind at home. Thankfully, or not, that doesn't apply in my case and so I question, other than money, what my motivation is? Rationalization or not some of those things are; visiting places you may not otherwise ever want, or dream, of visiting. Saudi Arabia is a prime example of this as there is virtually no tourism in this country - there are no Visa's issued unless your purpose is explicit as to the reason for your visit (the exception being non-Saudi Muslims that converge here during religious events to see the Kaaba). Good or bad I won't argue either way about the Visa’s - but another example of how the Saudi government has the flexibility thanks to vast oil wealth to not be concerned about tourist dollars that are, in some cases a large part of some countries GNP.

The other bonus of this type of work, if you appreciate such things, is that you live as a local and not as a tourist. You meet real people, living real lives, not just hotel staff and others that know you are a tourist. Personally that is very important to me, and as a result I have met some wonderful people in my travels.

Another little extra bonuses, for me, are the realization of what your doing, and more importantly where you are doing it. Sometimes I have this sudden realization in my head, for example driving home at the end of the day cruising at 120kms/hr (everyone drives horrendously fast here and you quickly accustom to the local way) that here I am driving myself home in a foreign country some 12,000 kilometers from home. Or shopping for groceries - the things you do all the time at home but don't give a second thought. Like last evening after work I went out on my own to get another thawb for myself and trying (successfully in the end I am proud to report) to negotiate and barter with the shopkeeper despite my lack of Arabic, and his of English, in the local Souq (rhymes with tuque) where I'm sure I was the only white guy. A Souq is a traditional Middle Eastern open air market that began historically outside of towns to greet the caravans of travellers arriving to the region). No doubt on those wonderful camels!

In a similar vain let me just highlight some of the little things that I like and don’t this country/city:

What I like:

• That in the grocery stores you will never see ground beef on the shelf, instead you pick something off the shelf of various meat cuts and have it ground, or similarly say to the butcher I want some lean ground beef and he does it for you then;
• Seeing or experiencing something new everyday;
• Doing the ordinary in an out of the ordinary location;
• Paying for something that you think is expensive but after conversion isn’t at all (a bottle of water anywhere is 1SR or about $0.30, to have my thawb washed and pressed at the local laundry is $1.50);
• Experiencing the culture and a different way of life (though in the end life is pretty much the same anywhere – people getting up before they want to, the daily grind of life);
• Reaffirming the luck of the genetic draw and realizing how lucky we are to live where we do. While we complain about many things (taxes for one) in reality there is really nothing to complain about;
• Paying for a litre of gas that was the same price as what we paid in the mid-seventies (approx $0.17/litre);
• Services like the laundry, is inexpensive (no doubt because of the exploited non-skilled immigrants from India, Pakistan and the like).

What I don't like:

• Because the city is growing/changing so fast GPS units only get you so close to your destination (which can be a problem in itself if the sign is in Arabic). For example if you familiar with using a GPS in the car it will chirp at you to turn in 400 meters. Well here (especially left turns) there is no where to turn in 400 meters;
• Not being to communicate effectively (my fault but learning Arabic or their character set is beyond me in the limited time I have);
• Seeing women always covered up;
• Driving protocol – there is no point to lane paint, speed limits, or turn signals (even at stop lights some guys get impatient and just go through the red);
• Not being able to have a beer poolside on a hot day;
• Certain everyday protocols of courtesy that are not the same here, like a proper queue for your turn, a simple kindness of opening a door open for someone, letting someone ahead at the grocery store when your have two items and they have a cart full (very few express lines here);
• Prayer time and the city wide chanting broadcast everywhere, and the inconvenience it causes.

A small sample of the little things that are good and not so good, or more importantly – different – In the Kingdom.

Sorry only a few pictures, no adventures this time, just my soliloquy of a guy a month and a half into an overseas assignment.

You wonder is it where your coming from or where your going to
Is it the new place your going, or leaving everything you knew?

When in Rome . . . . .

A view outside from the cafeteria window

Approaching a busy interchange

#7 Edge of the World

Snap quiz – what is the difference between a bactrian and dromedary camel? Answer: the number of humps (bactrian has two). More about camels later.

As for the countdown of my experience in the Kingdom I have been here for 38 days and have 50 remaining – not that anyone is counting. There are two main reasons I am anxious to get home: one, I miss my dog Norm, and two, like many Winnipeg homes this winter season I was informed that a pipe burst in my basement and I will have a mess and an active insurance claim waiting for me when I do get home. You will note that I didn’t say anything about the environment here, sure I have complained about some things here but if the roles were reversed and I was an expat coming to Canada there would be things I didn’t like there either. Also while I complain about not being able to have a cold beer sitting around the pool on the weekend not consuming alcohol is a good thing. So if anything my liver will be happier for this experience.

Another week has ended and another weekend came and went though this one had some memorable moments. First off is one couple is returning home for good. The problem wasn’t so much it was time to go home but that the Saudi’s didn’t want to extend the visa of this gentlemen because of his age (66). That is the story anyway. While I don’t know for sure the details of his departure I do know that the Saudi’s have complete control over who stays and who goes (as it should be as they are footing the bill) and MHI merely suggests appropriate people to do particular jobs. 

There is another couple leaving next week as well for no other reason than they have done their year long contract commitment and it is time to go home and “be retired”. I think I mentioned previously that myself and one other guy are still employed with our regular jobs waiting for us when we return. The rest of the 18 or so others as part of the MHI team here have since retired and are, what I term, double dipping – collecting pension and getting a nice salary working here. 

Nice thing for them is that being retired most have an opportunity to bring their spouses over as they too are retired, and the kids have since grown up (though they all report of missing their grandkids). Of the wives here (we have no women working here on our team) it is split in half as to how they approach there husbands change in work locations: some are here full time, others come part time spending a few months here (winter usually for obvious reasons) and spending the rest of the time back home (usually summer). While the heat here will drive you away in the summer another big reason is that most do not want to be here during Ramadan and Eid which happens over the summer time (like Christian Easter it is not a set date like Christmas as it is based on the Islamic calendar). Ramadan is a month long period of “ease” as noted in the Qur’an but for us infidels a month of major inconvenience: Muslims fast (nothing goes in the mouth including smoking) in the daylight hours, eating only after dark. You say yourself – fine whatever your into, though here it is held in strict observance country wide. No restaurants are open in the day and I have heard reports you can get fined if you are caught driving and drinking (anything). For the guys working here it means either not consuming anything during the day, or going into the bathroom to hide and have a quick drink, or ‘schedule’ a private meeting with only expats where you can sneak a sandwich or something.  Again I have not experienced it but have heard that when the sun goes down they all go out to eat (most restaurants serve only buffet style due to the rush) and unless you have a reservation you’re not getting in. You would think people would start to get cranky come sundown – especially the smokers (and there are lots here) who have been denied there nicotine fix for 8 odd hours.

On to better things. The weekend started off with a progressive dinner (Italian themed) arranged by the wives that are here (single guys like myself were spared any official duty and only had to provide our share of the common costs). It was a lot of fun, lubricated with a little homemade beer, wine, and spirits. Five stops and five different villas where each course was served. I think everyone had a good time though we were done by 10pm because the next morning we were all going out to a place in the desert commonly called here the “end of the world” (not to mention the youngest of our team is a year younger than me at 52). My best description of the end of the world – think of the Grand Canyon without the other side. It’s about an hour and a half outside Riyahd to the west (and south) with much of that distance done off road through the desert (we were packed into 5 SUV’s) to literally the end of the road (no guard rails here and you could drive off the end of the cliff). Funny how when there are no roads to keep control you have other vehicles going every which way making their own path thru the desert. At literally the end of the road the earth drops off dramatically several hundred (even a thousand) feet in spectacular fashion. Definitely worth the trip and so glad this event was organized. You could hike to a lot of places, sometimes quite precariously (a woman did accidentally plunge to her death some years back), providing fantastic vistas of the dried river beds far below. The wind that day was very strong adding to that peril. This is quite a popular place, especially among expats. I will stop trying to describe it and just let the pictures do the talking - look closely as you will see me and Steve in some of them (something worthy of a public photo gallery if I was technically inclined).

After spending a few hours there exploring we headed back out to find a nice shaded spot in the desert to have a picnic of sorts. Again I thank the wives again for organizing and getting the food for us all to eat – with the main snack being the North American delight of cold KFC (like pizza, cold fried chicken is good to have cold) with potato salad, chips, watermelon and sadly water and soft drinks only (no beer). 

While it may sound like a strange place for a picnic but you would be wrong. This is a very popular pastime for locals who will pack the family up and drive to the desert for the day. This was evidenced by the drive out of the desert (before finding the pavement) where you see numerous vehicles parked under the nearest tall tree, spread the rug out and let the party begin. The desert here is not just the vast expanse of soft sand in endless dunes devoid of any vegetation (though it is here I haven’t seen that part of the desert yet), rather a dry soil of gravel/sand/rocks with scrub brush and some tall trees (if you have been to Vegas or Phoenix you know what I mean). The scrub brush here is predominated by a wicked thorn bush (was this the same tree that provided JC his crown of thorns I wondered?) with barbs several centimeters long and very, very sharp.

Now let me tell you a bit about camels (an Arabic word derived meaning beauty) – amazing mammals. When we did our journey through the desert (no roads just GPS coordinates) we saw randomly grazing thru the desert several small herds of camels including some that were quite close to where we had our lunch (unlike bears at home when camping they don't come looking). I couldn’t resist the urge to make chase (Norm would have loved it as well) to see how close I could get to these curious, odd looking creatures. I did actually get quite close (within a meter or two), of one camel that was happily chewing contently on this same bush of thorns I just mentioned. Whoa I thought – that in itself is worthy of my respect – a bush I couldn’t even touch without spearing myself provides a nice meal to camels. These are, I realized, perfectly adapted animals, and worthy of my mentioning a few quick facts that makes illustrates just how specialized they are for this very harsh environment. Everything about this beast is to not waste water, or too preserving it. Unlike other mammals (humans for example who only operate in a small temperature window) camels operate on a range of body temperatures between 34 – 40 C. If they do sweat they can sweat up to 25% of their body weight and still function normally (for us cardiac arrest is a real danger at 10%), and can go up to a week or longer without water. Living in an almost constant state of dehydration (why their blood cells are oval versus round like ours to facilitate circulation while dehydrated) when a camel does find water they can consume a third of their body weight in only ten minutes (a hundred liters minimum), something that would put any professional beer chugger to shame. The hump/s are actually fat deposits (not water as first thought) evolved as such because fat deposits all over the body (to the dismay of many humans) act as an insulator and this is not desired in the hot, hot desert climates. These fat deposits can then be metabolized not only for energy but water with a super efficient conversion that 1 gm of fat can yield 1 gm of life nourishing water. The last unsavory little tidbit is that when they do pee it is a thick syrup, and poop so dry it is ready for the fire immediately! I could go on but I will not bore you with the details that google can satisfy easily with a quick search. In Saudi only the dromedary (one-hump) camel is dominant, and sadly hardly any feral camels remain,with most all now domesticated in the servitude of the ever exploiting human. Often you see trucks on the roads with either goats, lamb, or even camels packed in the back on a journey I care not to think about.

Well I'm not overly garrulous this time as it was an adventure more worthy of the cliche a picture is worth a thousand words.

Standing on the precipace to everywhere
So amazed you can only stand and stare.

#6 DXB

It was time to travel. Remember this is not a matter in which I have a choice. As I mentioned in the previous blog (#5 Going Saudi), without the Igama expats like myself are compelled to leave the country every thirty days for the Visa reset. I decided to take this opportunity to travel to a place I was always curious and interested in seeing – Dubai, the Texas of the Middle East in the United Arab Emirates (UAE). Google pegs the population at just over 2 million people.

Flight time was an hours and 40 minutes non-stop courtesy of FlyDubai, the discount airline that criss-crosses the Middle East with no-frill airline service. When I say no fill it is no frill in that EVERYTHING costs money – even water (a bottle of water was 5 SR, free water was a little pudding type packet with about 4 oz of warm liquid). Our weekends are short and getting time off from work is like pulling teeth so I left after work at 5:30 for an 8 pm flight on Thursday and returned mid-day Saturday.

Arriving at the airport (a 40km commute from our Villa's) I quickly found a spot and trekked across the terminal(s) to find the foreign departure gates. After being processed into the secured area it was then resigning myself to what modern airline travel has become: waiting to wait. I had to wait about two hours before boarding commenced. Unlike other airports where you can spend the time with over-priced alcohol, I settled for a bottle of water and the ever present prayer time. Here it isn’t a private matter, but the chanting is broadcast over the intercom system at great volume. It is the little things that get to you after awhile in this country - and prayer time for us non-Muslim expats is chief among them.

FlyDubai is somewhat suspect in there logistic operations as the flight board didn’t indicate any delay (there was), nor did they formally announce boarding (though they were) – I just noticed the queue at my gate assuming it must be my flight (it was).

Finally we got underway at 8:45 (scheduled 8:05pm) for the relatively short flight. I’m an anxious guy at the best of times and when I’m on my way I just want to “get there” as my impatience gets the better of me. So you can imagine my frustration when we had to circle Dubai (DXB) airport for three or four loops for our turn in the landing order - so close yet so far. While the bright lights of the city were evident, being nighttime I could not see the three wonders of modern engineering – the man made islands just off the coast of Dubai – the Palm Jumeiriah, Palm Jebel Ali, and The World. As the name suggests the first two are shaped as palm trees and The World – well, you get the idea. Search google for Dubai, man made island and you will see.

Finally arrival! Unfortunately FlyDubai flies into the Terminal across the airfield from the main terminal which is where all the long haul international flights arrive which I was hoping for - I wanted to meet this girl and fly on her airline!

While Dubai is a modern, metropolitan city compared to Riyahd it is still very restrictive in terms of alcohol, like dope in Amsterdam it is tolerated versus openly embraced as we are used to. For example the best piece of advice I got prior to my departure is buy liquor when you get off the plane in the duty free shop – because nobody knows of any liquor store in this city. So your options then become limited to expensive drinks in selected hotel bars.

The most difficult part of the duty free shopping experience for me (and I imagine most westerners after spending time in Riyahd) was that I felt like a kid in candy store; wanting to buy everything but knowing that I only had a day and a bit to drink it! So after longingly looking at scotch, tequila and other of my favorite alcoholic vices I settled on a dozen Heineken (approx 45 Durem’s – the AUE money about the same value as the Saudi Riyal or about a third of our dollars). Note that smuggling is not advisable going back into Saudi as the custom declaration form we have to fill out (as we do when coming back to Canada from another country) states clearly: Bringing alcohol into the country is punishable by death! My contract is for three months – not forever in the after life.

So after a taxi ride to my hotel, a couple of beers (heavenly) it was time for bed at about 1am.

Friday started early as it was my only full day and the day to get all the tourist things to do off my list. Unfortunately with Friday being our Sunday I found out the metro does not run until 1pm so I hop in another cab to start my day off at the world’s largest mall eponymously named The Dubai Mall. It happened to be in the shadows of my 10am tour to the top of the world’s largest building: the Burj Kalifa. There not much to say about the mall – looking like any other mall only much bigger: and like the West Edmonton Mall it has an ice skating ring, amusement attractions, a huge waterfall, and the like.

Now the Burj Kalifa was something – done up in full tourist style with the history, vision, photos and of course the wise wisdom of the King, as you wait your turn into the elevator to take you up 124 floors to the observation deck. Notwithstanding the haze that prevails over this city (and Riyahd) it was quite a view and higher than I have ever been in a man made structure (my ears popped going up and down). It had full floor to ceiling window and even an outdoor area also clad in glass (but secured shut for the potential jumpers). While the pictures never do justice to actually experiencing it yourself here are a few pictures to get the idea.

With that done my next item on the agenda was to hop on the now open metro to get a better overview of the city – as it goes right to the airport my ride back was secured. The mall is about in the middle of the metro line that stretches some distant north and south accessing all major area’s of the city. So I went south (away from the airport) first, then doubled back to get back home. I won’t bore you with the details but will say I was amazed how big the city was. Everyone has seen the pictures of the main drag in downtown Dubai with the canyon of skyscrapers lining the route, but what surprised me was several metro stops that contained yet another cluster of tall buildings, primarily condos/apartments. Especially the Dubai Marina district, which was inspired by Fox Creek in Vancouver. This area includes an area known as The Tallest Block which as the name implies is a cluster of very tall residential buildings including a twisted building of some 80 floors, and what gets to be tiresome by it’s audaciousness, a number of world records including the tallest residential block in the world (90 stories) on the world’s largest man made marina in the world (though there is debate that Marina del Rey in California is larger). This is Dubai.

As for getting out of Riyahd it was needed for a sense of normalcy – where women and men mingled freely where you can eat without being segregated – just like being at home. It is funny how Riyahd gets to you. While normal in so many ways, it is abnormal in many other ways. I have yet to meet any expat who lives here who hasn’t expressed the fact that you just have to ‘get out’ every so often to experience “normal”. Classic example was stopping at the grocery store after work, find my items go to the checkout to find it abandoned: prayer time, so I stand and wait for the cashiers to return to work for about 10 or 15 minutes (though the manager assured me it would be 5 minutes).

Otherwise nothing of noteworthy to report about my time here as with many active vacations my feet got sore from so much walking so it was back to the hotel to work on drinking those beers. As a big airline guy I packed up a few of these tasty beverages and sat outside the hotel on a nice green space (real grass) to enjoy the weather and watch the action at the terminal on the other side of the freeway.

Ironically as you can see I was very close to the terminal (walking distance from the hotel) yet there was no way to walk there - only a cab or the free airport shuttle will get you there. The Middle East lags behind the west in promoting two key things we now take for granted at home: a healthy lifestyle and being environmentally friendly. There are regular commercials on television saying that diabetes, obesity and other unhealthy conditions are among the highest in the world and that you should try and walk more, take the stairs versus the elevator, etc. I often take the stairs here at work as I have contacts on the 14th, 10th and 7th floors (I'm on 15) and while it clearly states in both English and Arabic that smoking is not permitted it always reeks of smoke with cigarette butts all over. Sweets of all varieties dominate grocery store shelves and ice cream shops and donut places proliferate in commercial areas. Being "Green" is mostly absent as well - I have seen no recycling boxes anywhere and people toss trash out at will anywhere and everywhere. Your forget how far we have come at home in a relative short period until you visit a place like this. 

The next day was low key around the hotel, enjoying the weather and then back to the airport to wait yet again. While I would have preferred not to wait so long, the terminal provides a wealth of people watching opportunities. While most airports have a variety of ethnicity's, cultures, and nationalities represented in the mix, these mixes are different based on where in the world you happen to be. Dominated primarily by Indians, Pakistanis and all Middle Eastern Countries - the white guy in the crowd is definitely not the majority. I was fascinated by a group of men I assumed to be Afghan's with the loose half thawb, pants with vest and the head piece that is not a turban but almost. I don't mean to stereotype but given my lack of articulating well what I am trying to describe think of those Afghan rebels we saw on the news that would shoot down Russian helicopters and you know what I mean.

Thankfully the flight home was pretty much on time and arrived back in Riyahd at 5:30. While expecting a long queue to be processed what bothered me is that after standing in the line indicating it was for Exit/Re-Entry for 15 minutes a guard comes around quickly looks at my passport and says move to this line (back of the queue again), then after waiting there I finally get to the gate where the guy says go to the office (for what I will never know) so back thru the crowd to an office to show some other guard my passport – he looks and waves me off without any awkward communication. As  a Canadian I adhere to the notion of an organized queue – this was anything but!

My troubles continued, this time of my own doing: remember me mentioning finding a parking spot quickly? Well mental note - remember where you parked!!! Well much to my frustration and annoyance I couldn’t find my car! Even though I’m tired and just wanting to just get back to the Villa, I am forced to pace back and forth over two levels of parking garage for an hour before I found my car. The only saving grace from my own stupidity was that given the way people drive and park around here I knew that I wasn’t towed (not to mention there are no signs which are common at home indicating the name of the towing company if you don’t find your car). Like losing your car keys/wallet or the like – I never loved seeing that car as much as I did in that moment.

I will have one more “out” in April prior to my departure home and given that I spent more time in airports versus seeing the city I went to visit I now see the merit in flying somewhere for the day, having a quick drink and getting back on the plane. The big disappointment here is that I am in a fascinating region of the world to see and explore but I don’t get any vacation time in which to explore it.

A different city for such a short stay
Being abroad is it even considered being away?

#5 Going Saudi?

Well I can hardly believe I am into week 4 of 12 of my Saudi Arabian adventure. As eluded to previously Visas are a big annoyance to most expats here. For me or any expat, without an Igama (permanent residency permit), you are required to leave the country every 30 days to have what is known as a Visa reset. For guys that have been doing it for a while, some choose to simply fly to Dubai, or drive to Bahrain (about 4 hours’ drive from here) – have a quick beer, turnaround and either fly or drive home. For me Dubai has always been on my bucket list and this visa requirement allows me to stroke this item off my list. I leave on March 13 and return on the 15^th. I am staying in a hotel close to the airport because: one, I like airports and watching planes, and two, it is very close to the metro line which can take you to most places in the city without the need to find a cab – though rumor has it they are cheap and you can hire one for a spell to tour you around. One of the touristy things I’m looking forward to is visiting the Burj Kalifa (world’s tallest freestanding structure) and visiting the observation deck on the 124^th floor (of 160), among other attractions, including having a drink with dinner! While the flight is cheap at approx. $125 all in, the other costs are in line with what we would spend at home. People have suggested I stay in the world’s only 7 star hotel (Burj Al Arab) but at about $2,300/night a little too rich for my budget.

On a different topic, I was forewarned about this, but I do miss the company of women. As you know women are 2^nd class citizens in this country and must be covered up at all times with most still wearing the niqab. Ironically though when walking thru the mall there are both Victoria’s Secret and La Senza outlets to stock up on the lingerie that no one will see. The nasty rumor here that I wish I could verify is that with the heat here a lot of women wear only their scivies underneath (men with the predominantly white thawb don’t have that option). While I see and chat often with the wives of our guys and others in the compound, you miss going to a restaurant and not being segregated or just being in places where men and women congregate together. Women are very subservient to men as well – coming out of a grocery store it was me and a Saudi woman approaching the door at the same time, and as a courtesy we would do with anyone at home, I offered her to go first (as she was pushing a shopping cart and I was not), I had to really insist (with hand signals due to language) and re-iterate to her several times that she was welcome to go first. Despite being well into my first month I still can’t get over seeing women all covered up in black. The picture below I think represents the embodiment of women in this society, or like the antithesis of what we used to say about well-behaved children – should be seen but not heard. Here they can’t ‘really’ be seen.

This is not a camera fault - what you are seeing is the ad banner in a shop window at a women’s clothing store - and the faces are deliberately 'pixeled' out. There is hope though – the younger generation, with increased exposure to the internet, social media and other information sources are quietly putting insidious pressure on the Kingdom to liberalize the current standard here. This can be seen in many younger Saudi women who choose not to cover their faces with the niqab though still wearing abaya. Driving and the other freedoms women take for granted in our country will take time and when it will change is anyone’s guess. Some guys speculate that there will be a revolution here as a result the question being - peaceful or violent? Though I haven’t read it, apparently the Holy Qur’an makes no such restrictions on women – only that men and women should not wear tight fitting clothing (forget those Lulu lemon pants that are popular with women at home). So a cultural interpretation of the Qur’an is the only explanation I have. Sometimes these annoyances really get to you, and why I am looking forward to a function at the Canadian embassy where, as mentioned, I can have real booze, but also mix and talk with other Canadians (hopefully women) to quench these thirsts. Get your mind out of the gutter – I say conversation only – though a Canadian single women who has a taste for adventure (why else would she be here?) just might be the ticket. 

OK that’s my rant out of the way – lets’ get back to stories – and if you noted the title of this blog Going Saudi I have officially adopted the Saudi dress code – namely as noted – the thawb that men wear. Here is your first (and only) Arabic lesson (and unlike previous post where I spelled phonetically this is the correct English spelling and Arabic):

Thawb (ثَوب‎) – the long usually white ‘gown’ worn by men;

Tagiyah ( طاقية)– the white beanie cap worn on your head;

Agal (عقال‎)– the two black straps that sit on our head

Shemagh ((شماغ) – the red scarf thing on your head – white is ghutrah (غُترَة).

As for the Arabic – I apologize if I didn’t get it right – I went to Wikipedia and copied it – the best I could do given my understanding (which is zilch).

While I sometimes complain about the restrictions in this society sometimes I get the same uncomfortable feeling about Canada as well. For example one of the guys here printed off  a news wire thing about another anachronistic decision from the big heads (note I say head not brains) at the CRTC. Apparently porn channels available in Canada do not meet the 35% Canadian content standards, and the 90% closed captioning requirement (as noted in this article) for its various “oohs” and “ahhs”. There’s a world of material in there that I will choose not to touch (pun intended).

Anyway back to the dress. Yes I have it all now and while my other expats won’t/refuse/resist adoption of the traditional dress code I have. As I think I noted, there are two primary reasons for this shift in dress code: one, this thing is super comfortable, and two, for the next two months I never have to ask myself – what do I wear today!

This thawb is made of fine, thin cotton and while I decided on the priest collar (something wrong with that statement in this Muslim land), covered buttons and open cuff. There are various options available in terms of color (white is predominant), collars, cuff, etc. Underneath you wear, as I’m sure all the dirty minds are wondering, regular gitch, T-shirt, and fine cotton white pants with elastic waist (basically white pajama bottoms). I love it quite frankly – how I look I will let you decide – but like a lot of things – I don’t care!

One unexpected benefit in my change of dress is the attraction I have created amongst the Saudi’s here; I have local guys that I never met stopping by my cubicle to check out the white guy out in the thawb! Good news, I am happy to report, is that everyone is appreciative of my respect for their ways, and love that I have adopted their local dress code. Even one of the VP's of the company, that is on our floor, had to come and check me out and was all smiles and thumbs up. People also come around to have their pictures taken of me: celebrity Saudi style! Given that everyone has a smart phone here I am probably the poster boy of what real white guys should do in Middle East by now. While I do not wear it around the compound I wear it everywhere – though the guys say that if I wear it to the Cdn Embassy – they don’t know me, and they probably won’t let me in. The first day we came home the security dude that lets us in the compound was hesitant to open the gate but let me pass. That said I do go international most times and implement legacies of my past MHI assignments – as I will wear the lungi (loon-gee) which I got in India in 2002. Again while strange in the compound outside not so uncommon as the majority of the service and construction work force are Indian, Pakistani’s, or Bangledeshen`s.

Me, being as graceful as a German jazz band, had my first ‘incident’ - the agal (the black straps) on top of your head doesn’t fit firmly on top as I had anticipated, merely sits loosely on top of it. So I went for lunch that just happened to be beef stew that day which I ordered, sitting at the table I reach for a napkin and poof the Agal falls off, into the stew and splashes on my beautiful white thawb. Good news – the stain came out when I washed it that night, and with the shemagh being as long as it is, I was able to flip it in front which covered my clumsiness.

As with many things I realize now that two or more thawbs are a necessity as you wear one and have one in or back from the muswgal (laundry) so I have a clean, pressed thawb at the ready. The muswgal is inexpensive as well – I dropped off my shemagh and thawb to the dude close to the compound for just a press – done within the hour and only 4 SR ($1.20).

The day I my new wardrobe was a wonderful day – one of the local Saudi’s on the finance team I met volunteered to take myself and Antoine (another expat who lives in Nevada and one of my main contacts here) out for a day to not only get said thawb but to just show us around. First stop was the thawb shop – it was near the old district of the city to a shop that only did thawbs and the accessories. The guy there does two measurements: neck to ankle, and horizontal length of the chest. Very important that it not be tight but not too loose either. I was a 57L. With the thawb done, the rest of the accessories for my new Saudi outfit were easy, though I am still uncomfortable that the agal doesn`t sit firmly on top of your head, and I was a new man. Antoine ever the conservative who had no intention of getting outfitted quickly got caught up in the thrill and had a change in heart and did the same. Like a lot of clothing at home – designer names are important – though to my uninitiated eye one looks the same as the other. The shemagh is a good example – mine was about 40SR but then I saw one with a Ferrari logo (the logo must be facing out) that interested me – I inquired but decided against as it was in the 200SR range vs about 40. Total cost – for the outfit and an extra thawb and pants for my brother the bill was only 265SR ($80). This is a bargaining culture for many goods as in other countries and what I might have paid had I gone by myself I can’t say – all I know is I appreciated having a guy like Ahmed with us to negotiate and get the job done by being able to converse rapidly to the shop keeper in Arabic.

With that item off our list it was a quick visit to the museum that outlined not only the early, prehistoric days of the region but also a significant section devoted to the Prophet Mohammed’s entry into the scene at around 650AD. I say quick as it is something to visit on another day when there is time to absorb all the artifacts within. I am fascinated with the Muslim faith given its prominence, unfortunately for the wrong reasons, in the world today. I had watched a 3 part series on PBS about the Prophet Mohammed and was fascinated with the story and how different it is from the side we hear on the news. No need to worry about my imminent conversion though – as a confirmed agnostic I could not believe in this or any other faith/religion as they all have one thing in common – they all have somewhere in their doctrine where the believer must take a leap of faith, that you must accept as true. For the Christians it’s that JC rose from the dead, Mormons’ it’s that Joseph Smith actually received those revelations from God over his lifetime. For Muslims it is that Mohamed was the messenger of God and also got messages from God in the cave he visited often to meditate that overlooked the city. There are some quirks to the religion, at least locally, that I find fascinating. Gold for example is not worn by Saudi men, and do not wear jewelry except for their wedding bands. Me with my two diamond stud earrings is an oddity and as told to me by the main guy in our finance team, Khaled, is treated with suspicion by men. I asked if I should not wear them he said it wouldn’t hurt to remove but also clarified by noting that as a westerner they are more tolerant of the jewelery worn. My last religious note, I am disappointed to report, is that as an infidel I will never see the Kaaba in Mecca (the holiest of the holy's in the Muslim faith) as only Muslims are allowed inside (how they tell I don't know). Pictures are the best I will be able to do (the link below contains images of the Kaaba. 

https://www.google.com.sa/search?q=muslim+kaaba&rlz=1C2KMZB_enCA573CA573&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ei=z-cfU9GcN4GI0AWV74HYCw&ved=0CAkQ_AUoAQ&biw=1600&bih=775

Afterwards it was time for lunch - so keeping with the Saudi lifestyle we just adopoted (though Antoine decided to change back to his western dress after the fitting) we left the decision up to Ahmed to choose a place to eat - the only requirement being that it had to be Saudi style. Good to his word he found a great place that had an open garden and traditional Saudi sitting area's that ringed around it. 

Afterwards it was time for lunch - so keeping with the Saudi lifestyle we just adopoted (though Antoine decided to change back to his western dress after the fitting) we left the decision up to Ahmed to choose a place to eat - the only requirement being that it had to be Saudi style. Good to his word he found a great place that had an open garden and traditional Saudi sitting area's that ringed around it. 

It was a busy place that meant we had a 30 minute wait time for our table. At home we would go to the bar and have a drink while waiting, not here of course. What they did have was a little area (on the floor again) to sit and wait while a guy there comes around serving Arabic coffee. Now don't get confused with Arabic beans we buy at home, but a traditional way of making coffee. Served in tiny little cups with great ceremony by the guy (you hand him the cup for a refill by holding the rim with your fingers as he cups the bottom in his hand to pour more from a pot that reminded me of I Dream of Jennie). That copper looking bowl in front of us is a selection of dates free for the taking. Actually not to bad, of the variety served (there are all kinds) but very, very sweet. Personally I love the Arabic coffee - I would describe it as mix between chai (tea) and coffee with a distinctive lemon taste, though not to sweet. I shot a few of those while waiting.

We finally were lead to our table for eating and again we left it up to Ahmed to order (I'm never this adventurous but when in Rome. . . ). Two kinds of flat bread baked fresh, some spicy lamb, some oatmeal looking stuff (similar to grits in the southeast US), a vegetable dish and of course kapsa as the main course that included both chicken and camel. Camel I found tough and fatty and Ahmed pointed out it must be a young camel (the tender ones). All very good with lots of water to wash it down and our day was done!

With so much to do and see the work weeks seem so long. This working for a living is not what it is cracked up to be. I look forward to my weekend in Dubai next week.

A wonderful new adventure everyday
So little time yet so much to say

#4 LIfe and Living in Saudi Arabia

Well this is my third week in the kingdom. All in all things are going well, as eluded to previously, unlike previous assignments I have been fortunate enough to participate, this is a modern city with reliable internet, good infrastructure, many western restaurants, and grocery stores with everything we can buy at home with some differences due to local culture. Though there is one big thing missing in this culture that all westerners take for granted – BOOZE!

Like most – I enjoy a cocktail/beer when the occasion strikes. For me, if I’m not drinking tequila with my brother every second Friday, I love a nice gin martini (lemon twist please – hold the olives) at the end of the work week. Or here in Riyahd, a cold beer sitting around the pool where we congregate on the weekend to enjoy the sun. I have befriended several Irish guys that I sometimes see around the pool – and true to the stereotype, they also especially lament this particular deficiency in this society. They were quite excited about an event at the Irish embassy. Where you are not allowed entry unless you have a voucher to ensure you have a taxi ride home! 

Embassy events in Riyahd are big deals around here and a big part of the social calendar for most expats. The two big reasons: one – real booze, and a small, albeit remote, connection to home. Typical of government I sent an email last week to sign up for membership in the CCOR (something like Canadian Citizens for Riyahd) and have yet to hear any news since. Membership is important (for 100SR/yr or $30) as only members are informed/invited to Canadian Embassy functions. For example they had a gig the evening the Canadian men kicked ass in the Olympic gold medal hockey game. I don’t know for sure but I get the sense that embassies here have a greater meaning than in other countries – and the one big reason is it is these lucky people can legally import booze (that whole diplomatic thing – hell if you can kill people and get away with it using the diplomatic immunity line what is a few bottles of real booze?). In Timor for example I made sure I was registered with the embassy and never heard a peep from them thereafter.

I say real booze as there are many industrious lads in our compound (and every other I assume) that make beer, wine, and even distilled spirits. And while never as good as the real thing (though I have heard, but not sampled, that the beer is as good as any you can purchase) when the real thing isn’t available, necessity being the mother of invention, provides that needed elixir with a kick. I tell myself that from a health perspective not drinking is never bad. As a result I have never drunk as much water as I have since I have been here. Why I did my usual booze abstinence month in January I question every day. As I noted previously – diet drinks are not as popular as they are at home (though I did find some diet coke) so water becomes the beverage of choice.

Speaking of water – bottled water is widely available and inexpensive (usually 1 SAR or $0.30/bottle), and we have those big water dispensers at both the office and in our villas. Tap water is fine to drink but tastes funny as water in this region has to be desalinated first from water taken from the Persian Gulf and then piped to us thirsty folks in Riyahd.

You have to excuse my thought process and desultory ramblings as I write and all these things bombard my head in myriads that I can’t scribe everything at once.

With that caveat admitted too, let’s talk more about booze (am I becoming focused here??) and other prohibitive activities in this restrictive country. It is really all about a question of freedom, as noted, I enjoy a drink from time to time but I don’t think about it back at home. If I want it it’s there. Movies (there are no movie theaters here) are another example, I don’t go to the theater often but when I do want to go I can. When you can’t have things – people find ingenious ways to get them anyway, so yes the black market is alive and well in Saudi Arabia. First there is the pseudo legal thing everyone does here to get Netflix and social media via a service that provides you with a different IP address in your computer so it “thinks” you are in the US, Canada, etc. I always wondered, when even at home, you go to certain websites, click a link and you get the message that the following X is not available in your country. How does it know? The IP address is your answer. For TV here, I have heard that if you go to the Pakistani district and know the right people you can get a cable box that provides all the porn you can watch – available to anyone. That’s the bad thing about black markets – at home – if you’re into porn there are restrictions to get it – parental controls, credit card payments, age verification, etc to ensure that mostly only adults who wish to can watch – here any kid with the proper payment can walk away with one of these porno boxes.

That said the TV in our compound does have a pretty good selection of movies, news (we get Aljazeera news here, and despite what I thought is not a bunch of radical rhetoric), and sports. There is even a Bollywood channel to satisfy my closet pleasure of Indian musicalsJ. Also I have Netflix back, though the streaming doesn’t work so well at times. As a result I have finally been able to finish the final 8 episodes of Breaking Bad. The TV is OK, but what we forget quickly about our past is the absence of an on-screen guide to display what is playing.

While to some the exotic locales and travelling to the far reaches of the globe appear glamorous in reality, especially in this culture, life here is pretty low key: up at 5:40am at work by 6:10 or so – leave shortly before 3, swim for 30 minutes, eat, watch some TV/computer time, crawl into bed at 8:30 read for a bit and crash early to do it all over again. Self admittedly I’m an early to bed, early to rise guy – so not too far off my routine at home.  

My excitement recently was going out to find traditional Saudi food (if you read the last blog I mentioned Kapsa).  Not understanding/pronouncing or reading anything Arabic I hopped in the car by myself and hit restaurants on the GPS, picked one that sounded Saudi (like I know) and hit GO. Approximately 3 kms away there was the restaurant I selected on the GPS - so I go in to discover the place is almost empty where the dude working there quickly said he “only Arabic” – he brought me a sample of rice and raisins on a plate but that’s as far as I got. After a few failed attempts to communicate, I bailed out and noticed on my way to the car a place almost beside it that looked a bit like a takeout place with the illuminated menu sign above the cash register with all Arabic writing but pictures – English wasn’t much better with the guys there but I pointed to the sign of a picture of something that looked like kapsa and held up my thumb to say OK that, then loud banter with the cook about half or one?, half or one? Not knowing I picked half. It turns out half or one was the amount of chicken – half or whole. The next challenge was where to eat? Thankfully a guy waiting for takeout could understand the frustration in all parties and said to me eat in or take out? Well of course it was eat in, and where the fun begins. I am led to a cubicle with a swinging gate and approximately 1.5 meters square. It was sparse at best: nothing inside except for a box of Kleenex, hot sauce, the rug and a few stiff cushions. Before sitting down they have a sheet of plastic that was laid down in the center (I immediately think – are these for messy infidels like myself or just a general rule in this establishment?). Within a short while my order arrives, served again by a guy on his knees. Picture an aluminum looking platter a little bigger than a dinner plate heaped with rice – and I soon discovered a buried half chicken underneath. All alone in this little private booth (there are a lot of private booths so women are not out in the open) with a big plate of rice and chicken two things become apparent: one, I’m very clumsy eating things like this with only one hand (it was hot too!), and two it’s a little bit our culture and a little bit my age but I haven’t sat crossed legged like that for many, many years. I was very self-conscience sitting by myself thinking someone was monitoring me and barge in and say I was doing something wrong. Thankfully no such thing happened but then I wondered would it be offensive if I left too early? In the end all was well, the food was good, my pants were littered with rice and it was only 20 SAR (about $6).

Would I go back? Absolutely – just wish I could have had a cold beer with it. There’s that booze reference again. . . . . .

Speaking of booze again - every Thursday is Choir Practice at one of the villas. Choir practice is a term I found out, originating in the north many moons ago when guys worked in camps building our northern generation. Here is where the finished products of the industrious booze makers are made available.  As for a buzz not really, and truth be told I can go without the booze if I have to drink that stuff – it’s not that important to me to get a buzz. 

I will wait for March 13 when I fly to Dubai for the weekend, and while still restricted compared to home, real booze is available. I have always wanted to see the Texas of the Middle East and this work experience forces me to leave the country every 30 days as your “visa” must be reset to stay in the country.  Here Dubai is the closest destination (about an hour and a half flight), with Abu Dhabai and Bahrain being close seconds. Seems dumb, but something that must be done if we want to stick around here. I will get one other such “out” prior to my departure home in May. Guys who have been here longer than myself find it a burden and sometimes will fly to Dubai, get off to find an airport bar, have a few drinks, and hop back on the plane home. If you have a longer term contract (a year or longer) the next step is to get your Igama which is the equivalent to a green card in the states where you can open bank accounts, have a Saudi drivers licence, etc.

The last little kicker I will leave you with is a quick economics lesson. Electrical rates are highly subsidized (retail residential rates being about 30 halalas – with 100 halalas’s making 1 Riyal (SAR) = about 30 cents our money. You do the math – it’s cheap around 3 cents a kWh. Further humility is the fact that 60% of the generation to produce this energy is by burning oil. Speaking of oil you will be shocked to hear that gas is a whopping 15 cents/litre. Yes that is about the same price it was when Canada went metric sometime in the 1970’s. So as you can imagine the size of vehicles here tend to be much larger than in Canada. Our cars (Hyundai Azera with a V6 engine) which I filled the other day cost 40SR (with 2 SR tip) about $10/11. I’m not an economist but even I know that you can change behavior most quickly by hitting people where it counts – gas prices. Though what is a market rate is hard to determine as many industrialized nations impose high taxes on petrol.

What follows are a few pictures I took of driving around.

Such a contrast from home this foreign land
From a sea of snow, to a landscape of golden sand