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.
Bloody hell. I hope this one’s a myth. Certainly what most concerned my parents when they heard we were moving to Saudi Arabia was the thought of us as victims of terrorists. All because I was born in a land that someone drew a line around on a map and called England.
Do not doubt it, 2003 to 2005 was a dangerous time to be a Westerner in Saudi Arabia. We’ve listened to some horrific firsthand accounts of the bombings of Al Hamra compound and the people murdered there (both Saudis and Westerners), the attacks in Dammam and Jeddah and other gruesome murders of Westerners in Riyadh. The events led to an exodus of Western expats who are now slowly returning.
I won’t deny that the risk of my family or me being attacked here is something I often think about. But as I explained to my parents, thanks to the British government’s involvement in the “War on Terror” (has anyone else noticed that “Terror” seems to be winning?!) and the desire of terrorists to murder the innocent, the real myth is that I am more at risk living in Riyadh than living in London.
"Establishing lasting peace is the work of education; all politics can do is keep us out of war."
- Maria Montessori
"I like to believe that people in the long run are going to do more to promote peace than our governments. Indeed, I think that people want peace so much that one of these days governments had better get out of the way and let them have it."
- Dwight D. Eisenhower
When we told people we’d decided to move to Saudi Arabia the general reaction was one of shock. “Why on Earth do you want to move there?”, “But what about your wife?!” were questions I heard many times. In fact the only person I can remember being positive about it was a chap who remarked “you’ll love Saudi Arabia, Dubai is a great city.” Well, it’s the thought that counts.
We set our expectations low so as not to be disappointed but came here with an open mind and over the last four months the country has grown on me. Don’t get me wrong, there are things here I really dislike (just as there are things in the UK I really dislike) but Saudi does have its own appeal.
If you’re English and are pondering a possible move to Saudi Arabia, consider a few English things that Saudi lacks:
A high crime rate - I’ll discuss this another time
High teenage pregnancies rate - and all the associated social challenges.
Drunk brawls - I miss having a bottle of wine with my meal at a restaurant but I don’t miss all the people who cannot handle their alcohol. Why do so many Brits love to fight when they’re drunk?
Sober brawls – Hell, why do so many Brits just love to fight, period??
Dance music - *bleep* *bloop* *bleep* *bloop* KSA, please please don't do it.
Gardening and home improvement TV shows - I'd rather watch one of those Muttawa looking TV shows where an angry Saudi guy sits in a chair and talks loudly at you. I don’t know what he’s saying but at least he’s not patronising some poor couple whilst making a mess of their home.
Political correctness - Jeremy Clarkson has been criticised for calling a car a bit “ginger beer” (that’s rhyming slang for “queer” by the way.) I agree we should be sensitive, but can’t we laugh at ourselves a bit too? I thought the Brits were supposed to have a sense of humour?
Road rage - I know it happens here (sometimes fatally) but I cannot believe that in over four months I haven't seen any road rage. If you took ten Saudi "weavers" and put them on the M25 around London during rush hour you’d be visiting most of them in hospital that same evening.
So if you are considering coming out here be warned that it’s not like home, but be assured that there is plenty here to appreciate.
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...."
No Saudis drink alcohol. This of course means that I haven't seen any guys out in the desert blind drunk or any guys acting like crazy people hanging out of cars at the weekend.
This is because it doesn't happen.
I can see the News of the World front page headline now - "World Exclusive: Saudis are Normal People!"
"In winter it might get a bit chilly in the evening, so pack a sweater."
Yes, that's the advice we were given before we moved to Riyadh. "A bit chilly." "Occasionally." Well thanks for the advice buddy but several times this winter Riyadh has been colder than London. Yes, colder than London! So if you are going to be here during the (northen hemisphere's) winter, be sure to pack at least two jumpers. And for heaven's sake bring a coat!
If it gets any colder I might start wearing an abaya...
Well it's the desert, isn't it? No rain there, right? Wrong! I can't believe how often it's rained in the last month or two. It's like an English summer. They say this year has been unusual but I'm not so sure, perhaps Saudi's not really a desert at all. Maybe it's a conspiracy to keep the English tourists out.
[Edit: See?! It's raining again!]
[Edit: And again!]
A western friend of a friend was caught dating a Saudi girl here in Riyadh. The muttawa were tipped off and whilst I don’t know what happened to her, I understand that he got a bit of a beating and he has been deported from Saudi Arabia. The story surprised me because whilst the muttawa have rules to enforce, I thought that the beatings were becoming a thing of the past.
Anyway, I was reading about the young unmarried couple that were caught by the muttawa in a supermarket and it made me wonder how they tell who is and who is not married…
Teacher: …and you must arrest any unmarried couples without a chaperone.
Student: But teacher, how will I know if they are not married?
Teacher: Well, look at that young couple over there. Are they arguing?
Student: No, they are not.
Teacher: Are they ignoring each other?
Student: No, they are not.
Teacher: Do they look tired and bored?
Student: Well, no. Actually they look quite happy.
Teacher: Then clearly they are not married! Arrest them!
As a Saudi what is normal to you is often completely alien to me because.... well, I'm an alien here.
I know that as a visitor in Saudi Arabia I should learn Arabic. There is no way I should expect people here to speak English. I've tried to learn the local language in other countries where I've lived and its my intention to try here too. I've got the books and the tapes but... well.... I've been busy and I haven't started yet.
This has led to several rather odd telephone conversations along the following lines:
Him: *arabic*
Me: Umm, do you speak English?
Him: Yes, sir.
Me: Thank you.
Him: You're welcome [he must be thinking: Why the hell is this idiot thanking me for learning another language? Does he think I did it for him?!]
Anyway, we decided to try a new restaurant for some take away food a few nights ago. For a local this is an everyday experience. For a foreigner it can make you feel like Alice in Wonderland. As it was men only I went in to get a menu that I could then bring out to the car so my wife and I could decide together.
I entered the shop and asked the waiter for a menu and he looked at me like I had blue skin. I made the international "menu" sign with my hands and he brought me a menu.... which was only in Arabic.
I was then led to a selection of meats which to my untrained eye all looked the same. I stood there for a while trying to look like I was making an informed decision about what to eat whereas in reality I was wondering what the hell to do next.
To my relief the chap cooking suddenly asked me in English "What do you want?" I ordered a mixed grill and retreated swiftly.
I decided to also purchase a banana milk drink (I love the fruit drinks you guys have here). Because of the language barrier I had to resort to picking up a banana and waving it in front of the bemused fruit drink man.
I now had time to kill. I didn't want to stand in the middle of the shop looking completely lost and out of place (even though I was) but I didn't know what else to do. So there I stood amongst the hustle and bustle without a clue as to whether people were saying "Hi, I'd like to order some kofta and a lamb chop" or "Who is this white fool that doesn't speak our language? Can I give him a well deserved slap to move him out of the way?"
Out of the corner of my eye I saw an old man approaching me in traditional dress. Out of respect I stepped back to give him extra space to walk by, but he stopped right next to me and looked me in the eye.
Me: Salaam
Him: (in a withering tone) Salaam?
Me: (in a questioning tone) Salaam alaykum?
Him: (in an even more withering tone) Salaam alaykum??
Me: (starting to panic) mafi arabi!!
Him: *broad grin*
Me: *slightly scared*
Him: American?
Me: No, English *feeling paranoid about why he wants to know if I am American*
Him: ....america.... american... ahh, England?
I nodded an anxious nod and then to my relief he sauntered away to get the cup of tea he ordered.
My meal was finally ready and I went to pay. The cashier looked at my order and said "right... 1200 riyals please" (US $320! - bad Terry). I stared at him politely waiting for him to admit he was joking and he grinned broadly, saying "ok, 15 riyals". I gritted my teeth, grinned politely, paid and then ran for the car.
My wife: What? Didn't you order me a lamb chop?
Me: Aarghh!
Hello. You are a muslim and I am a westerner. I've lived in Riyadh for four months now and I have some news that may shock you. It might even insult you, so be prepared...
You and me, we're just the same.
Sure there are a few cultural differences, but basically we want the same things. We want to have a family. We want our kids to grow up happy and safe. We want them to be good people. We want an end to violence.
Some in the middle-east say that Islam is under attack. Western leaders and reporters remind us of 9/11 and 7/7 and the threat of Islamic extremists. But it is not "Islam" or "the West" that's under attack. It is muslims and westerners. It is you and me.
Who died in London on 7/7? Muslim haters? Who died in Lebanon? Who is dying in Iraq? Terrorists? Of course not, just normal people like you and me.
We are not to blame for what the leaders of our countries do. Democracy is only the power to choose your dictator for the next four years. There are those on both sides that enjoy stirring up fear, hatred and an attitude of "them and us". This is to gain them more power. But who lives on the front lines of possible attacks? It is not them, it is you and me. Who will suffer? Who will be grieving? You and me, the silent, decent majority.
So whose responsibility is it to change attitudes? Who can make a difference? Well, that would be you and me. So next time you pass me on the street in Riyadh try not to think of me as “a westerner”. Try instead to see that I am just like you. I promise you I will be doing the same.
An honourable mention for the two harebrains I passed on Thursday who were reversing back up the motorway.
The first one was humourous enough as it was on a long straight stretch of road. I have no idea where he was going because there wasn't an exit in sight.
The second one was even more impressive. Reversing back up a steep hill in the slow lane (not the hard shoulder) around a blind bend on the motorway because you took the wrong turn at the fork.
Genius!
I'm now used to driving in Riyadh. I don't mind making the occasional improvised fifth driving lane, I beep my horn so much there's a faded patch on my steering wheel and I accept that the agreed stopping distance at 120 km/h is about two metres.
But there is one thing I refuse to get used to. Whilst they aren't peculiar to Saudi Arabia, Riyadh probably has the worst ones I've ever seen. I'm talking about "weavers." You know, the guys that insist on swinging from lane to lane, putting everyone's lives at risk for no apparent gain.
When I go home via what we call Airport Road (why do you guys have two or three different names for every main road?!) I like to get straight into the fast lane and sit there at whatever speed the guy in front of me is doing.
That's exactly what I was doing the other day when I spotted a ridiculous weaver swerving from lane to lane, cutting everyone off and missing the other cars by mere inches. Why don't the police do anything about these guys?
This weaver was just ahead of me when I joined the road at exit 13. A few junctions later he was still just ahead of me. And by the time he headed for his exit? Predictably, he was just behind me.
Harebrained Idiot.
Sales hit the clothing stores last week. Unlike the UK and other western countries, the sales here in Riyadh are still real sales with real bargains to be had.
In Australia I learned what it is to be "Terry", as in "Terry Tight-arse". A "Tight-arse" is someone you need to sedate before you part from their hard earned cash.
As I'm careful with my money and I shop around to make sure I am getting the best deal as far as I am concerned to be "Terry Tight-arse" (as a man) or "Teresa Tight-arse" (as a lady) is something to aspire to, not something to be ashamed of.
As mentioned previously the shopping system in Saudi Arabia is unique. If you are so inclined you could wear your new clothes for a week with the label concealed and still take them back for a refund (I haven't done this yet, honest). This system provides exceptional opportunities to be Terry.
I'd therefore like to extend my congratulations to the Teresa in Mango last week. She had bought a lot of clothes from the store without knowing the sale was starting the next day. My wife was standing behind her in the queue as she returned the clothes and got her refund.... and then immediately grabbed the clothes back from the cashier and bought them back at the sale price. Perhaps there are times when its nice to be hidden behind a full abaya?
Queen Teresa, I salute you!
As today has seen the passing on of Joseph Barbera it seems a pertinent moment to reveal Riyadh's (KSA's?) ongoing Tom and Jerry fixation.
It doesn't seem to matter whether its Carrefour, City Plaza, Citymax or any other store. If they have televisions on they will be showing Tom and Jerry. Have you noticed? I love Tom and Jerry so I don't mind, but this is even more pronounced than the Singapore government's Mr Bean fetish.
It's also nice to see that Riyadh isn't the only place where you can get in trouble for looking like Santa. You see, I told you Christmas isn't a religious holiday, it's actually a Disney conspiracy.
A nice example of both English humour and one of English society's problems too. I'm glad you don't see this very often in Saudi Arabia....
Thanks to the counter down in the bottom right I can keep my eye on who comes to the blog and where they come from. I've left it public so anyone can click on it and see.
It helped me see that a couple of other sites linked to me (sincere thanks to them!), it also showed me that a few people emailed links to the blog as well (thanks guys!).
The fascinating ones are the hits that come from Google queries. Google took ages to crawl the site and after fretting about whether it was actually going to happen for a while I now realise it's in the "be careful what you wish for" category. Why do I say that? Well..... I'd like to extend a warm welcome to the person who came to this site via the a Googling of "englishmen with big dicks". I also have nice eyes, don't you know.
Seriously, if you Google "englishmen with big dicks" (please don't!) this blog sits proudly in second place, right behind a site talking about "Big Black Monster Dicks" (don't Google that, either).
Of course now I've mentioned "englishmen with big dicks" here three times, I might even get into first position. Some people would pay good money for that. Being first in the Google search return I mean, not for "englishmen with big dicks"...
You can take an Englishman out of England, but you can’t take the England out of an Englishman.
Any anthropologist will tell you that when analysing other cultures it’s imperative to cast aside your own bias and preconceptions. I am not an anthropologist and I am not analysing Saudi Arabia or its people, however I think the same rules should still apply to a certain extent.
In case you’re wondering, I think the UK is a bloody awful place. If I was to start a blog about the UK it would be hundreds of pages of complaints about rude people, crappy weather, rude people, crumbling infrastructure and did I say rude people?
But if there is one thing the Brits are justly famous for it’s our queues. We get the occasional queue jumpers of course, but generally the sanctity of the queue is respected. Also, the Brits are courteous drivers. This is something I didn’t realise until I left. Living abroad can sure put things in perspective.
So what have I been focusing on when talking about life in Saudi Arabia? The driving and the queue jumping! The only things we get right (or at least less wrong than elsewhere) in the UK.
My wife is not British and she’s just taken great pleasure in knocking me off my precarious soap box. KSA, accept my apologies! I promise I also intend to discuss the good, such as the beauty of the desert, the excellent architecture and the excellent food!
