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I once perceived Saudi Arabia through books, magazines, television broadcasts and rumor. Sapience assured me it was an expansive desert plain of inhospitable climates and social codes. A sun baked land of blowing white sand and flowing black gowns. But now I perceive Saudi Arabia with my own eyes, my own ears, my own sense of touch, and my own mind. And while that sandy blackness burns my eyes everywhere I turn, I find that it is now somehow different than it once was. In the last two days my eyes have been opened. I have found that there exists a massive gulf between the perceptions of this land that I formally had and those which I now possess. Metaphorically speaking, everything I knew of Saudi Arabia prior to my arrival here was fed to me through the umbilical cord of my own self-contained cultural womb. Of course, this is how we all learn about things with which we have no direct experience. We must take the stories we hear of various places around the world and judge them for ourselves as either credible or incredible. But now, I feel as though I have been born, in some sense of the word. That the light of this country is striking my eyes for the first time. That I am breathing the air of this culture with my own lungs. This is not to say that I yet like or dislike what I am experiencing in Saudi Arabia, just that I have suddenly become invigorated by this great opportunity to live here! The last two days have been very informative. Let's begin with my first perceptions. I arrived on the 1st of September and was driven from the Riyadh Airport to the Vinnell Compound. The airport is on the outskirts of the city and so is the compound, and as such I really didn't see much of anything along the way. We arrived at the compound late that evening and the following day I had nothing in particular to do except meet up with two of my coworkers and walk around within the walled community of the compound. I actually had wanted to walk around outside the compound, but since we were surrounded by empty roads and empty lots of dessert land, where would I have gone? I ended up spending a bit of time looking out my window, but all I could see was a lot of nothing. Take the above image for example. This is the northward facing view out the window of my bedroom. You can see the concrete blocks lining the parameter of the compound next to a wall which is not visible in the picture. Beyond that you have a craggy old dead tree and then a field of dirt and dust occupied by a few commercial vehicles and piles of uprooted and sheered trees to the upper right. Next to that is the tall white water tower and past that, a whole lot of not a lot. And that was my view of Saudi Arabia and that was my perception of how my life was going to be for the next two years. Exactly as I had expected. And I was OK with it. But on Tuesday I left the compound and my own protective veil was removed.
The first three days I had to go through a Vinnell Compound orientation program to familiarize myself with the ins and outs of life here. Where the mess hall is, how to drop of my clothes for laundry service, how to file a request to get my passport back should I ever plan on leaving the Kingdom, how to sign out vehicles, where to apply for my Saudi "iqama" identification-card and driver's license and so on and so forth, none of which required me to ever leave the compound. On Tuesday morning I went out to the job site to observe a couple classes, check out the facilities and meet the other instructors and after that I returned back to the compound (about a 15 minute ride home around the outskirts of the city) and there I was back in my little enclave. But on the way home from the job site on Tuesday, one of my co-workers (Scott the senior instructor, more specifically) asked me if I wanted to drive into town with him since he had a dentist appointment at 6 p.m. near some shopping center and that he thought I might be interested in picking up a few things at the store. Of course I jumped at the offer and before I knew it we were off. The two road signs above were some of my first sights. The one on the left is a road sign to take the highway out to Mecca (Makkah) and the other is some random 90 km/h (60mph?) speedlimit sign. I thought the speedlimit sign was particularly interesting because NO-ONE abides by the speedlimits here. . .
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After driving our oversized, dusty and worn 1990 Chevy Blazer down a few expressways for a short time we were suddenly surrounded by suburban civilization! I was in awe! That there actually existed * life * outside the walls of my little compound threw me for a real curve. The expressways were wide and moderately traveled - like any roadway found in America. On both sides I could see an unending sprawl of suburban development - all of it being built since the "Oil Crises" of the '70s (which was VERY profitable and beneficial for Saudi Arabia). Huge shopping malls covered the landscape interspersed with an armada of large, and extremely modern indoor glass-clad auto retailers - Chevrolet, Cadillac, BMW and Mercedes, just to name a few. Encompassing all of this development were "tracks" of suburban housing, which in Saudi Arabia means either a large single-dwelling home or a large house subdivided into numerous units (a la German style) surrounded by high white or beige painted concrete walls. And I'm talking 10 to 15 feet high (3 to 5 meters). It appears that privacy is of the greatest concern to the Saudis. Most of the roads into these housing communities were paved, but some were still dirt. But I guess it doesn't really matter if they're dirt or gravel since it almost never rains here and the roadways probably never actually become muddy. So Scott and I arrived at the dentist in one of the suburbs of Riyadh. I had actually hoped that we'd be going right into downtown, but I figured that suburbia was going to have to suffice for the evening. It was around 5:30pm and we agreed that we'd meet up again in the dentist waiting room around 6:45. A solid hour to just mosey around. And where did I go first in Saudi Arabia? To Safeway Supermarket! Perhaps it seems like a strange choice, but since it was right below the dentist I figured I'd start with something a little recognizable. I must admit though that I was a little apprehensive at first since I wasn't sure if I could walk right on in. Would the doorman stop me? Are men and women allowed to go shopping together? As a foreigner, am I even allowed to shop here??? So I just held my breath, stood up straight, and in I walked as if I had done this a million times before! (Who knew that going to Safeway could ever be such a courageous experience?!?) ;-} "I'm in!" I thought, and to tell you the truth, I was a little unprepared for what I found: Saudi Arabia has EVERYTHING for sale that America does! Well, at least this one particular Safeway in this one particular little corner of Riyadh! As a matter of fact, ALL the products were American! Take the above aisle for example: every imaginable American cereal product known to man (or at least America) and in huge quantities! Sidenote: all of my "Shopping Experience" pictures are a bit blurry and jittery since the goal was to snap the picture as quickly and inconspicuously as possible as to not either a) be found out by the store operators (ie, taking pictures of things like this in Saudi Arabia is considered a bit strange, at best) or b) be discovered by the roaming Religious Police (knows as the "matawwa" (mah-TAH-wah) who would probably think I were trying to shoot pornographic pictures of women. So my shots were short and fast and above you can see the results. By far, the thing that made me feel the most giddy/nervous/strange were the women just wandering through the store doing their nightly shopping. Literally, I felt as though I were on another planet. There I was, standing in the mutely lit vegetable section with a full array of every vegetable I could ever want and gliding in and out of the vegetable stands was one fully covered, black gowned woman after the next. On a humorous level, it seemed like I was in "The Great Pumpkin Patch, Charlie Brown" with these black ghouls floating around everywhere with nothing but a little slit on their face for their eyes and reading glasses to poke out through. "Alright, this is normal here and the only person having issue with * any * of this is me so I'm just going to walk around and mind my own business and act as though I've seen this all a million times before and totally ignore the fact that I'm FREAKING OUT right now!!!" I thought to myself. I mean, I must admit that while I fully feel that the Saudis should develop their culture any way they see fit and that all non-Saudis who don't like this sort of culture have every right not to come and live here, I still must admit that *actually* seeing the women walk around shopping in all black is SHOCKING AS HELL the first time!!! So I just perused the aisles picking up a few things here and there to make it appear as though I wasn't freaking out in my mind and that I was just doing my nightly shopping as well, and then paid for my things and out I went. "PHEW!!!!" I thought! "I did it! I penetrated Saudi society and I lived to tell my tale! If I can tackle a Saudi Safeway, I can tackle anything!!!" ;-}
So with an hour left before my scheduled rendez-vous with Scott I decided to put feet to pavement and head out into the heart of Riyadh. Well, perhaps it was more the liver, but it was still a part of the whole and I was ready to take the bull by the horns and see what this place was made of! I walked out of Safeway and rounded the corner and found myself along a quasi-expressway. The roadway was about 4 lanes wide in each direction (cars driving on the right here) with a one-lane service lane on the far opposite sides of the main road way separated by a nice center dividing walkway lined with palm trees. This dividing walkway was a lifesaver when it came to crossing the road because the psychopaths driving on it were going so fast that there had to be an absolute dearth in traffic in order to cross, unless I wanted to start playing Russian Roulette with my life. Thanks, but no thanks. So what did I see on my little walk through motorized Saudi suburbia? Well&ldots; lots of cars. Lots of fast and maniacal men drivers zig-zagging their way through town at near the speed of light. Lining both sides of this quasi-express way were two-story high businesses. Perhaps the shopkeepers live on the second floor and have their business on the first? Architecturally, it felt like almost any strip-mall area in the American southwest. As you can see in the picture above, there I am just standing at sundown on the center divider with some random neon business sign above me. |
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While I was out walking along street peering into the various businesses (most owned by Saudis and operated by "TCNs" (Third Country Nationals, i.e., non-Saudis, non-Europeans/Americans)) prayer call suddenly began. Prayer in Saudi Arabia: during the day in Saudi Arabia there are five prayer times, ranging from a few minutes up to a half-hour or an hour. The prayer times are dependent upon various sightings of the moon (I believe, as the calendar is based upon sightings of the moon) and the times change slightly everyday and the prayer times are at slightly different times in Saudi Arabia depending on where one is in relation to the moon. Specifically, your prayer times are slightly earlier if you're in the east and slightly later if you're in the west. An example prayer schedule would be that of September 6, 2000: Fajr Prayer - 4:13 a.m. Thuhr Prayer - 11:52 a.m. Asr Prayer - 3:21 p.m. Maghrib Prayer - 6:09 p.m. Isha' Prayer - 7:39 p.m. A few minutes before every prayer (10 to 15 minutes?) there is a loud "Prayer Call" which can be heard virtually anywhere in Saudi Arabia where there are Muslims, which is basically everywhere. The prayer call is simply a male singing (?) something in Arabic presumably calling people into the local mosque. During this time shop operators hurriedly cover all of their wares with large cloths, push out customers and close down shop. Once shop is closed, you will see the more devout Muslims running out of their homes and businesses and through the streets into the nearest mosque. Both men and women attend mosque, although in separate quarters - women wearing black coverings and men wearing white robes. Then the community preys together for 10 to 30 to 60 minutes and once that is done, everyone runs back home or to their shops and the goods are uncovered and commercial life regenerates. As for being a non-Muslim foreigner in Saudi, the advice given to me has simply been, "Look like you're going somewhere, don't stand around, and for God's sake, don't do * anything * that could possibly be construed by the Religious Police as mocking or being disrespectful to Islam." So basically, I just kept up my pace and walked around making it appear as though I was going somewhere as I snapped the occasional photo. A little note on mosques: they are EVERYWHERE. I'd bet that you are never farther away than 500 feet from a mosque in Riyadh. And if you are, any moderately sized shopping center will have a little mosque inside.
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Now, I show these images not to imply that Saudi culture is totally Americanized or that these sorts of places are omnipresent, just that they exist here in reasonable numbers and that it appears that the Saudis and TCMs seem to quite like them. One thing I always had to remind myself of while in Japan was the fact that while my eye might gravitate toward recognizable American icons as I stroll the streets of a city, I need not fool myself that the 1% of American themed businesses somehow invalidate or overpower the other 99% of the business which have no tie to American culture whatsoever. (Besides, isn't Burger King British owned???). In any case, patronizing one of these fast food joints is quite an experience: the first thing a non-Saudi visitor would notice is that there are TWO separate entrances and dining areas. One for "Singles" and one for "Families". And this is the case for EVERY restaurant. What is meant by "Singles" is single MEN, men for whom the sight of a woman would just lead to sinful and pornographic mental imagery. On the other hand, "Families" means a cloaked woman accompanied by a husband and their children, totally separated from the sinfully thinking single men in the fully segregated other side of the establishment. In the above picture on the right you can see my co-worker Scott ordering himself a hamburger and fries. Interestingly enough, just as we got our food Isha' Prayer began (around 7:39 p.m.) and we were thrown out of the restaurant and the Philippino workers quickly closed down the establishment and made sure that absolutely no labor was occuring during prayer time. So we grabbed our food, beat feet and headed back out onto the highway toward the Vinnell Compound. By now the sun had set on this desert land and my eyes had opened - if only just a bit. I was safely back in my little compound enclave and awaiting the next chance to alter my perceptions of Saudi Arabia!
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