Cultural Sensitivity and More Man On Man Action

The Middle Eastern chaps at work are forever putting their arms around each other and distributing shoulder massages, hugs, kisses and handshakes. When they come into work they often greet each other like long lost friends. Liberal numbers of kisses are deployed on large numbers of cheeks, often accompanied by subtle slurping noises.
Despite having lived here for almost one year, this behaviour continues to amuse and surprise me. I cannot help my innate Englishness. In the West you're lucky if you get a mumbled "Good Morning" when you arrive at work. I am not used to all this male physical affection. In Riyadh I am Margrave, the untouchable.
Last week one of the guys was departing for a holiday. He was going to be away for ten days. I anticipated some frenzied man on man action before he left. I was not to be disappointed.
I watched cautiously as he gradually kissed and hugged his way through the entire team.
He was getting nearer and nearer to me.
I grinned nervously.
I looked him over. He's a big man. If he gave me a bear hug I could be lost for weeks. He might board the plane for his holiday without realising I was still stuck under his arm, my muffled screams drowned out by the hum of the engines. I hoped he was going somewhere nice.
I mentally prepared myself.
He walked towards me… this was it. Stiff upper lip, old chap.
…he thrust out his hand to shake mine.
?
No hug. No kisses for Margrave. Not even the briefest of shoulder massages. Just a handshake.
He wasn't touching me, but his cultural sensitivity was.
To me it's still odd that holding your wife's hand in public is frowned upon, but being touchy feely with your male colleagues is business as usual.
I wonder what my colleagues think of me. Margrave the emotional retard? Hell, maybe they're right.

Perhaps, just once in the future, I'll copy their behaviour in a Western work setting somewhere. Can you imagine the responses from the Western men as I slowly kiss my way through them all?
Margrave the untouchable, indeed!

The Boys Are Back In Town

Well, this boy is anyway. Our trip to Asia included a stay in possibly my favourite country, Singapore. Beneath all the clichés like "it's a 'fine' city" or "it's too clean" (hey idiot, do you really want the place to be dirtier?) is an exceptionally well managed country full of hard working, law abiding people. The women can even wear shorts and singlets with no subsequent breakdown in law and order, public lewdness or mass orgies. Watch this space.
Of course clichés are often based on fact. For instance, where else would you be told what to do when driving towards a dead end?



On the flight back to Riyadh we were seated behind three Saudi gentlemen whose behaviour astonished me. It's an example of one of the cultural differences between me and some of the Saudi men that I'm still struggling to get used to. I'm tentatively calling it the "Prince Complex".
When they arrived they rammed their hand luggage into the overhead locker, carelessly throwing around the bags that were already there. Why care about those next to you?
As soon as they sat down they immediately reclined their seats all the way back. Or at least they tried to. The seat in front of me was mysteriously broken and wouldn't recline (I have strong knees.) Why care about those behind you?
Their ghutras came off and were draped carelessly over the seat in front of them. Why care about those in front of you?
Every few minutes they called for the flight attendants because this wasn't right and that wasn't right. I could see the attendant's eyes roll every time they walked away. No one else is as important as me.
When they tried to purchase some perfume and the attendant explained that the airline didn't accept Riyals (Saudi currency) they believed that complaining about it constantly would suddenly change the airline's policy. Don't you know who I am?
Their behaviour cast a cloud over me and the mixed feelings I had regarding my return to Riyadh. I was looking forward to being back home, looking forward to serene Thursday morning shopping, dreading driving on the roads, wondering when I'd next have a nice glass of wine, and finally of course dreading immigration and customs.
I don't really know why I dread them so much. They've never once treated me badly. In fact my experiences with Australian customs and immigration have been far, far worse than my experiences in KSA. Oh and did I mention Indonesia? It’s the only place in the world where the immigration official has asked me for a bribe.
By the time we reached immigration in Riyadh we had been travelling for a very long time. After recently reading KR Khan’s post about customs I was wondering what they'd do with the DVDs we had with us. They were all mainstream movies and TV series and I assumed they contained nothing that would offend. Of course, having not watched them and knowing a little about what can be deemed offensive here I couldn't be absolutely sure.
After the traditional jockeying, elbowing and wrestling at the luggage carousel we picked up our bags and joined the queue for the X-Ray machines.
My mouth went dry.
We were so tired and we just wanted to go home. The last thing we wanted was to have to sit with the customs guys whilst they watched all of our DVDs. I made a mental note to pack some popcorn on our next trip back to Riyadh, just in case.
I hoisted our two suitcases onto the belt and watched them nervously as they made their tiny but crucial journey.
Customs: You! Open that suitcase!
Ahh hells.
Customs: And that suitcase too!
Ahh bollocks!
My mouth went even drier. My tongue seemed to be sticking to the roof of my mouth. I started mentally counting how many DVDs we brought with us. We had four huge TV series that alone would take ages to scan through. Then there were all the movies.
Customs: Show me the bottle!
Me: *mouth stuck shut* Gnunf?
Customs: The bottle! The bottle! Show me the bottle!
Me: Umm?..
My wife calmly searched for the bottles of cooking sauce she'd packed in the suite case.
Mrs Margrave: It's just cooking sauce.
Customs: *hears* It's just squiggle squiggle.
My wife showed him the bottle.
Customs: *reads* squiggle squiggle.
Mrs Margrave: *pointing at the "Cooking Sauce" label* C-o-o-k-i-n-g s-a-u-c-e…
Customs: *hears* s-q-u-i-g-g-l-e s-q-u-i-g-g-l-e...
Customs: Ok.

He wasn't in the least bit interested in our DVDs. They were on top inside the suitcase but the only thing that concerned him was the slightly beer-shaped bottles of cooking sauce. I was very surprised and now assume that they aren't as concerned with married couples' tastes in movies as they are with those of single guys.
Despite the fact that customs was very busy he was actually polite and he even cracked some jokes. Mr Saudi Customs Man, whose name I do not know, I salute you.
It's good to be home.
...
Bloody hell! It's a bit hot, isn't it?!

A Strange Day In Saudi

If you haven't lived here this won't sound strange at all.
We went to Hayat mall over the weekend. My congratulations go to Riyadh's newest mall for also being Riyadh's nicest. It also appears to be trying to push the boundaries of what is acceptable in Riyadh. I'd wager that Danube supermarket's current prayer time arrangements will not last. Time will tell.
Anyway, whilst in Danube the following all happened in quick succession:
- I accidentally walked out in front of a Saudi chap's shopping trolley and he said "excuse me" even though it was my fault.
- We were trying to get some cooked food and a Saudi gentleman offered to help us order. When the staff were painfully slow he turned to me and commented "just between you and me, these guys are assholes!"
- Another Arab man arrived just after us and when the staff member came to pick up his food order he told him that we were first.
- When we went to pay a Saudi chap let us move in front in the queue because we only had one item, rather than his full trolley.

These sorts of courtesies are very uncommon here in my experience. I'm not saying that all Saudis are rude, there are cultural differences and of course I do not speak the language. Behaviour always makes a bigger impact when it is unexpected so these four gentlemen really made my day. Thanks guys!

Man On Man Action!

A few nights ago we ate out with another married couple and two single guys. Upon leaving the restaurant we were standing outside next to some Saudi families who were about to go and eat. As is our custom, my friend’s wife turned to kiss one of the single guys goodbye when she stopped suddenly because a couple of Saudi chaps were watching with interest.
She said, “God, I nearly forgot that I cannot kiss you in public!”
I intervened and said “It’s alright, I can do it on your behalf.”
I put my arms around the guy and kissed him on both cheeks. Nobody seemed bothered in the slightest.
In the UK of course, it would have been the other way around.

Queue Jumping Ninjas – Defeated!

The cashier sent two lardo-ninjas packing and they were SO upset! He obviously wasn’t aware that they are more important than the rest of us! It was one of the most entertaining spectacles I’ve witnessed in this country. Go on love, waddle off to the back of the queue whilst we laugh at you!
Unfortunately in true "Shogun Assassin" style they will be back but for now check-out guy, I salute you.

Unbelievable Manners

Before we came to KSA we read reports from many westerners who had lived in Saudi saying that the Arabs were amongst the friendliest people in the world. In these times of mistrust it’s tempting to assume the worst about the people here. Or at least, assume that they’ll be assuming the worst about me.
I’m happy to say that the people here continue to surprise me.
I was paying my bill in a popular restaurant here yesterday when I realised that I had been short changed and so immediately took it up with the cashier. After the dispute was settled I apologised to the Saudi customer I had interrupted. He responded by assuring me it was no problem and then he actually asked me whether I was now satisfied or if there was anything he could do to help me! I was humbled by how good his manners were.
Of course this isn’t the only such incident here either. My hope is that when I leave this country I’ll remember gentlemen such as him long after I’ve forgotten the queue jumpers and their ilk.

Queue Jumping Ninjas

Unfortunately not in the “Shogun Assassin” style, but in the “I’m an ignorant git and I think I’m more important that you style”. The women here do it all the time. Perhaps queues are only for wimps and infidels. Perhaps I’m just too English.
Last night in a clothes store a particularly large and cumbersome ninja decided that rather than queue with everyone she’d start her own queue at the exit from the tills. As she lumbered straight to the next free cashier my wife and I laughed at her behaviour and a Saudi chap in front of us (who had also been jumped by lardo-ninja) saw the funny side with us. When her majesty had been served he actually insisted that I go in front of him to the free till.
I can only assume that in some way he was trying to apologise for her behaviour. I thanked him profusely and wondered at the peerless manners of some people in this Kingdom, both good and bad. I'll forget her soon enough, but I wont forget him.