Important Notice
It is not my intention to denigrate Saudi Arabia or its people. It’s like everywhere else, there is good and there is bad. I would rather focus on the unusual and the humourous. Offence is not intended.
Politics
“The country is not perfect. The media cannot be trusted, mistreatment of religious minorities is common and there are some that live in fear.” You can decide for yourself whether that statement is about Saudi Arabia, the UK, or any country for that matter.
Religion
To quote the Joker, “Why can’t we all just get along?”
khalas. That is all I will say about either subject.
Last weekend I spent an hour quad biking under the baking sun. As is the English tradition, by mid-afternoon the sun had turned my face a deep shade of red. Unfortunately I'd been wearing my shades so the area around my eyes was still bright white. I'd suddenly become the secret love child of Larry the lobster and Patricia the Panda.
It reminded me of a recent holiday to Malaysia when we were sunbathing on the beach and I noticed a lady in a full ninja abaya (this is the head to toe black outfit with only a slit for the eyes.) I realised two things:
- the ninja outfits in Saudi Arabia no longer make me look twice (no pun intended)
- out of context (Saudi Arabia) I still find ninja outfits surprising, even disconcerting
Like us this lady was enjoying the sunshine on the beach, like us she'd be getting a sun tan on any exposed sun, like us she'd end up with a tan line. Our friends would notice our suntan and I wondered whether like us, her friends would notice hers too.
[A group of ladies sitting in the family section in Kingdom mall in their full ninja abayas…]
Lady One: "How was your holiday?"
Lady Two: "It was lovely thank you. The weather was wonderful and the beach was fantastic"
Lady One: "Hey! You got a suntan!"
Lady Two: "Thank you for noticing"
Lady One: "It suits you"
Lady Two: "Are you saying I look like a servant?"
[Lady Two gets home, takes off her veil and we see that she has only got a strip of tanned skin across her eyes, the rest of her is her normal colour. Liberal doses of make-up have been applied.…]
The Suntan Strip is not a secret place in Riyadh where you can sunbathe in your bikini. It's a ninja's unusual tan line. If I'd had the option that day I got my "panda eyes" suntan, I think I'd have donned a ninja abaya too.
Yes, yes, "myth" probably isn't the correct word to use. I don't want to discuss the politics of it all but I would like to make one observation.
It's true that I'm still scarred by the curse of the angry ninja and don't even ask me about my experiences in Women's Secret, but a lot of the Saudi women I see here are very assertive ladies. Some of them are just downright scary and I wouldn't want to be the one to say no to them if they demanded something.
For instance, at Granada mall over the weekend we passed a young ninja shouting angrily at three guys. The guys were all grinning, but it was the sheepish grin of a guy thinking "please, someone reassure me that I'm still cool and please please move this lady on, I'm really rather scared and very very sorry."
As we passed the exit a Saudi gentleman in front of us stopped and spoke to the security guard whilst gesticulating back to the lady. I cannot speak Arabic but I imagined him to be saying "excuse me, there are three men back there being harrassed by a young woman...."
I had to spend two months alone in Riyadh before my wife was able to join me here. I was a lot happier (and less lonely) when she finally arrived. One thing about Saudi then became immediately apparent. It is far better to be a married man in KSA than it is to be a single one.
What with immigration, customs and the Saudi queue (maul) I was expecting hassle and delays when my wife and I arrived together at King Khalid International Airport.
When we got to immigration it was packed. Things did not look good. But I didn’t fully appreciate the impact of my new power-accessory. Thanks to having a female on my arm, we waltzed through the very small “Families Only” queue, leaving an army of single men waiting in long lines.
When we got to customs the queues were long and they were opening and searching all bags. It did not look good. But thanks to my WIFE 1000™ we were ushered to a separate area, our bags were only X-rayed (not opened), and we were swiftly on our way.
Of course, the same can be said about any restaurant, take away or coffee shop in the city, and (seemingly) any police check point on the roads. When you are married you also get to sit in the family section in restaurants which usually means that you get your own private room / area to eat in.
In KSA, married people have a higher status and singles suffer for it. But the lack of respect for family in the UK has meant high divorce rates and large numbers of children growing up in single-parent families. I wonder which attitude towards the family really causes the most suffering.
Over the weekend my wife and I went to a supermarket late one night to do some shopping. To be honest, I am still a bit on guard when we go out and on this particular evening it was further exacerbated by another encounter with the muttawa.
Anyway, as we walked down one aisle we passed what I assume was a mother and daughter out together. The mother was in full ninja attire whilst the daughter was more “Lawrence of Arabia” as she’d covered her hair and pulled a scarf about her lower face.
As we passed them the daughter stared at me. Wondering if she’d look away, I stared back. She didn’t and because her face was covered I have no idea what her expression was and what the stare was meant to indicate. It could have been flirtatious, it could have been disgust. I don’t know.
Later we were deciding what to take from a deli counter when a movement caught my eye and I looked over to find the same girl re-covering her face after trying some food. She immediately nudged her mother and said something whilst pointing at me. Her mum then fixed me with some sort of ninja death stare. I was transfixed. I felt like I was an innocent man being accused of something terrible (leering, I assume?!) and I felt like staring back at her would prove me a leering scoundrel, whilst looking away would prove I had a guilty conscience.
In retrospect winking at her was probably not the most sensible reaction. To be fair I was at a total loss about what to do. I knew she couldn’t talk to me, hence her reliance on the death stare. I didn’t feel like I could talk to her either. So a stupid misunderstanding became this surreal silent staring contest that no one could win. All we needed was “O Fortuna” from “Carmina Burana” playing in the background to complete a scene of comic genius.
I don’t know why the girl insisted on creating the situation but it upset me because I was obviously being accused of some cardinal sin and I had no way to resolve it. I guess it serves me right after complaining about the locals staring.
It was another crazy experience. I am not a big believer in coincidences, but can you guess what the deli counter was selling? Nuts.
Oh... and I was so upset I didn't even complain when the cashier robbed me of my change.
My memories of shopping at malls in the UK are of gangs of surly teenagers, packed shops and poor service. It might not be fair but that’s how I remember it.
I love the malls here in Riyadh. As a man they actually make shopping almost bearable. They’re always clean, they’re rarely busy, I’ve never seen any surly teenagers and generally the service is pretty good. In some shops the service has been absolutely stunning.
It can also be a slightly surreal experience for a foreigner. One of the first things I saw was a ninja (a lady in a full abaya with either her face totally covered or just a slit to see out of) buying make up at Mac. Obviously she couldn’t try it on and the (male) staff could not see her skin tone to help her pick the right colours. It just struck me as odd. Because their eyes are often the only thing you see, women here wear a lot of eye make up. I wonder if they also do up the rest of their faces when they go out shopping.
You see a lot of ladies here carrying Louis Vuitton hand bags. I always thought a large part of the appeal was that people can see you carrying something considered expensive and desirable. But if no one knows who you are or can see your face it suddenly doesn't seem to make as much sense.
Barring a few exceptions (e.g. nurses, ladies' toilet cleaners, shop assistants in ladies' malls) women are not allowed to work, so you see guys doing things here that they would not be seen dead doing anywhere else in the world. Dressing mannequins in clothes shops (and boy can you tell!), selling make up and perfume and (most bizarre of all) selling ladies lingerie. In a country as conservative as this, it seems odd to me that ladies buy their lingerie from men. I wonder how many people apply for the job when they have a vacancy.
Women are not allowed to try their clothes on and there are no female changing rooms. Refuse any offer to use the store room to try clothes on. A western woman accepted such an offer at Granada mall and was attacked by one of the staff. Fortunately she was unharmed.
This means that when a woman sees an item of clothing she likes, she has to hope it will suit her, estimate the correct size, buy the clothes, take them home and try them there. Then return the ones that do not fit.
Riyadh’s most aptly named clothes shop? Guess.
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.
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.
I am not a handsome man. Ladies do not stop me in the street to comment on how I “look like Brad Pitt, only cuter.” But the women here leer at me. I am not joking, I’ve seen them. My wife has seen them too, staring out from behind their veils.
Last night a girl who had not covered her face gave me such a “come hither” look I was completely taken aback. She was probably only 14 or 15.
I am not saying that the women here are promiscuous. I wouldn’t know either way, but I seriously seriously doubt it. But perhaps all this covering up makes them suffer in exactly the same way as the men. The men here are the champions of leering. Who can blame them? They have so few outlets. Last night we went out to a garden center to buy some plants and my wife wore her abaya as usual, but she didn’t wear long pants. I caught two men leering at her ankles. Her ankles! Not being able to casually glance at the opposite sex makes you behave in the oddest ways.
