#9 Saudi Life

It’s April suddenly and realize that time really does fly – more so when you having fun, but this is a work assignment so that limits some of the “fun”. I am continually amazed though how chunks of time slip by without even realizing it has. On the flip side immediate bits of time (like waiting for a plane for example) move painfully slow. Ironic isn’t it, that as you get older the faster the time goes by. When I signed up for this journey, everyone said the same thing – three months is nothing. Even if you hate it (which I don’t) three months will be done before you know it. Being the accountant, I like quantifying it: if I was 30 months old, 3 months is 10% of my existence (no accident I chose those times to make the math easy). By contrast, at my rapidly advancing age, it represents less than 1% of my time on this vast planet. No matter how the experience was soon it will be time to set my sights forward and start packing and saying goodbye to this little excursion of my professional life.

While back home people are hoping desperately that spring will finally arrive, and get rid of the large amount of snow that has accumulated in this winter from hell, in Riyahd we have found spring. Unlike the climate I left, spring here is not a rebirth of life after 6 months of dormancy, rather a transition season as the temperatures start to warm continually on its relentless march to the extreme 50c temperatures routinely reached in July and August. Someone who has been here for the summer described it: point a hair dryer at your face, turn it on high, and turn it on. Surfaces that are in the sun are painful to the touch, so using the ladder to get out of the pool is not advisable. In fact, the pool here is both heated and cooled, as a result. Spring here means the weather is more variable or in transition – with stronger winds and variable temperatures. Wind, not enjoyable any time is worse here as it stirs the sand into dust that hangs in air. What I speculated earlier about being smog (though undoubtedly an issue) maybe is not the whole problem. I went for a walk the other day at lunch and realized that as the wind blows, it stirs the sand and drifts as the snow does at home; road curbs at the correct angle all have sand accumulated along its length. Visibility is also affected, sometimes drastically so. I use the financial center as a reference point which we pass everyday to work, which we can see from the 11 floor cafeteria window in our complex. On some days though, it is gone, covered by a gray fog where visibility is limited to a couple of hundred meters. Even walking (with sunglasses) can be disturbing in that little grains of sand find their way into your eyes.

Notwithstanding the summer extremes, which I will not experience, I have enjoyed the weather. Usually warm in the day and most times a warm, dry evening. It seems we have turned the corner on the transition season as the weather is warming every day (a forecast of 37c later in the week) and the winds have calmed down. I'm sure I will see 40+ before I have to exit this country. Case in point - I have been dutifully swimming every day after work, and never has the weather stopped me (only my own procrastination). That said I had to miss three days due to a heavy rainstorm. It rained heavily for a few hours complete with thunder, and all the sand that I mentioned which hangs in the air comes out of the air with the rain. As a result, everything gets dirty; cars, windows, and in my case, the pool turns to the color of a bad, unappetizing soup. After ensuring that the pool had not been shocked, or whatever you do to pools, I couldn’t stand it and succumbed to the need to exercise. Good news is that my skin did not spontaneously peel from my bones; bad news is it is still very cloudy (making the front crawl difficult when you can’t see bottom). The tennis court did not escape this scourge either, as it was blanketed with a fine dusting of sand, which necessitated a power wash to clean up. The other reason why I enjoy the weather is that the winter at home has (apparently confirmed) been the coldest in some 100 years.

Whether because of the heat or the wind the thawb again displays why it is the go to garb in the Middle East. With the exception of it bunching up between your legs as you walk into the wind it provides great circulation. A buddy at work wondered what the thread count might be on a thawb (knowing that I am into quality linens) and while I don’t know for sure I’m sure, with these garments less thread count is better, as this allows the air to better penetrate the garment and keep its wearer cool.

I have noticed that as you move east the thawb evolves into a two-piece garment. In India and Pakistan, for example the men wear a kurta (a short thawb type garment down to the thighs) with either a pajamas type bottom or a lungi or dhoti. Lungi being just something that wraps around the waist (I have a few of these wonderful garments from my time in India) while the dhoti is like the lungi only it is wrapped around your hips, then looped between the legs. While you see lots of kurta’s here, (one way to distinguish the Saudi men from other nationalities) very few lungi’s and dhotis’. Like the picture below of a man with both kurta and dhoti. As you move into the tropics shirts, become optional.

That is one of the neat things about living in a different culture – is the forms of dress can vary widely. While many people do wear western style clothing, a majority of people are wearing the thawb (Saudi’s), or the kurta and of course, the women covered in their abaya’s.

In addition to the different dress codes, common things we take as normal at home are not here. Slang I have come to realize is regional. Common phrases we use don’t translate to people here, be it due to language or region. For example – don’t rock the boat, catch 22, are met with blank stares, just today I was talking to one of my Phillipino counterparts and said deer in the headlights look which he returned with that expression back at me. There are no deer or similar creatures it seems to hit in the Philippines. 

Other terms of speech at which you must be more cautious of are things that may have religious connotations; for example, there is no Christmas or Easter observed. The curse Jesus Christ! does not mean much here, as are any names of saints – a Christian concept. Thankfully, I have my own personal guide in assisting me to negotiate between the Christian and Muslim worlds. One of my main contacts here is Ahmed (the gentlemen that took me out to get the thawb and the great traditional Saudi lunch), and my guide of good and bad in terms of my actions. We get along well and thankfully tolerates my ignorance of such matters, and does not get upset with me as a result. He has a saying harem (not as we think of as bunch of belly dancers in a tent) more as HARR-m – or as he translates to me: la la la (no, no, no) red line as he waves his hands in that gesture of no good (again the saying crossed the line does not translate in Arabic). For example the other of my main contacts (Ahmeds boss) was just promoted to Department Manager (unlike Mother Hydro, a Division Manager is lower than a Department Manager) and I got the red line sign from Ahmed when I did the big bow and chanted We are not worthy, we are not worthy. Khaled to whom I was doing this for was amused thankfully.

As has become a bit of a custom for me on the weekends, I like to go for an exploratory drive (at 17 cents/litre why not!). Last weekend was no exception; as the coffee machine in my villa sprung a leak, I either walk to or drive to the nearest McDonald's for my coffee. This time I drove and ended up going for quite a drive south and west of the city out into the countryside. While not intended, I ended up in the valley below the cliffs where we were a few weekends ago – the so called: edge of the world. 

Some things I noted in my drive; similar to driving to Lake of the Woods back home, is you appreciate the engineering effort needed to carve through a harsh landscape to build a highway. Carving roadways provides a unique challenge in this environment, as it does going through the Canadian Shield. As I noted previously it is not fine sand here, rather a gravel/rock earth that is very dense, and what you need to do is either chip away at it with a pneumatic spike on the front of a track hoe, or blast it. Either way it makes for some spectacular vista's as roads carve through man made cliffs through the desert.

Highways are very good here, another benefit of oil wealth, and they make sure you can get to anywhere you need to be in the Kingdom by car or truck. The particular highway I was on also was a busy truck route. In the city, the trucks are limited to how fast they can go (annoyingly so) however I was shocked when, as I was cruising down the highway at 120kph a bright new black Mercedes tractor-trailer comes behind blasting his very load bullhorn to move aside. He must have been going 130 kph or more (I tried to shadow behind him but he was too fast and stirred up way to much dust). He was indeed blast happy as I heard him use that horn frequently as he barreled on ahead of me. As the picture above intends to show is how the highway descends beautifully into the valley below. As a precaution before this descent, there was a kilometer long queue of trucks waiting their turn at a checkpoint prior to the decent. I panicked wondering what my fate was (thankfully there was a car line so I didn’t have to wait for the trucks) but realized that has happened before, when they see you are a white guy they quickly wave you through.

The pictures are at this checkpoint, that has this great statue depicted something important I'm sure. As the info signs are all in Arabic I couldn't figure anything out. Once in the valley below, and realizing where I was, I tried to scan the roadside for entry to get closer to the base of those cliffs, which only a few weeks’ pasts I stood at the top of.

You may think it not so difficult with the vast areas of nothing but it seems like many areas have fences restricting any access. Finally, though, I did find an access point and started to drive along a desert trail going towards my destination. Perhaps the fences are to keep the camels at bay, like our cattle fences at home. I did came across camels and even had to stop because they stood their looking at me in the middle of the road (camel in the headlights??), horns not deterring their position. Camels behind me, I unfortunately came to a point where I could no longer risk the journey without a 4-wheel drive and had the sense to stop (the lost in the desert scenario was vivid in my mind). This was the end of the road for me. I ended up at where I assume the camel guy stays as there was a traditional desert tent set up where my journey ended. I even had a visit by some guy going to that spot who I assume had some connection to this location. We tried to converse but given my extreme lack of Arabic, to no avail. I did get the sense he wasn't all to thrilled, or why I was where I was. Unfortunately, continuation of that journey will have to wait for another time in a more appropriate vehicle.

On my way out on that desert pass, I did come across what was at one time a traditional homestead. Very interesting, I only wish it was better preserved to see more detail (a time when guides are invaluable). What struck me was how tiny the rooms and doorways were in this traditional clay & straw brick house.

After that drive and a few wrong turns on the return journey, I did make it home.

Back at home, while I still could not swim still, I went down to the pool area to enjoy the sun and look for company. Paul, one of my Irish buddies was there, so my company for the afternoon was found. Turns out I got way more than bargained for. As happens in many expat conversations, booze was a big topic – what is nicer than a cold beer poolside? Paul tells me that the guy that runs the little store in our compound also sells wine under the table. We had to wait a bit of time as Friday is the big religious day here – with virtually no services available until about 1:30 or 2pm – we knew it was time when we saw someone coming back from the store with their dry cleaning. It reminded me of a skit from SNL or something; first rule, be discreet, so wait till no one else is in the store then ask Moondi (I think – always difficult to decipher the exact name) quietly mention that you have some wine? After he acknowledges you with a sly smile he goes around to the vegetable cooler where he sells a limited selection of vegetables, pulls out the carrots and ginger root boxes, reaches back and pulls a two liter former Pepsi bottle out of red wine – 100SR later (expensive – but 2 litres!) Paul and I are in business. He gets some juice and diet 7-up to take off the edge and then the drinking begins. No sooner had we finished the first, that another one of our group joins in and our little party continued with two more bottles making a quick appearance and disappearance. Big mistake: one, because getting drunk on wine is never a good idea, and two I had the worst hangover of all time and kept a low profile inside my villa all day with the exception of going out to get something greasy to eat. Another one of those I will never drink again scenario's that go through your head countless times when you wake up. I sure the hangover was exacerbated by the fact that I have not been drinking (with a few exceptions) for almost three months. That said, it turned out to be a great day though I paid the price, a price I deserved to pay the next day. Here are a few pictures where the incident occurred and before it got ugly, except for one picture - I will let you guess as to which one that is!

This is a picture of the pool area in our compound ready for the party. 

The occasion for the balloons and such was because since I arrived there was an area that once had a restaurant, but closed sometime ago. Someone else has decided to give it a go so they decorated the area for the restaurant (named Lulu), hired a music man and otherwise made a little party of the grand opening. 

The shot below are some of the locals that head up this venture. While their intentions are good, I just don't think our compound is big enough to support it. By comparison we are about 100 villa's, whereas some other compounds can be up to 1,000 or more villas.

So silly and stupid we get with the drink,
If you only stopped first to think!