An Evening at the Ambassador's Home

A few weeks ago, my husband and I were surprised to receive an invitation from the U.S. Ambassador inviting us to attend a party on March 11 in honor of National Day at his home in Riyadh. Of course we wanted to attend. Who turns down an ambassador?

My husband and I prettied ourselves up for the big night. I think we clean up pretty well, what do you think? (Incidentally, I'm wearing the Evelyn dress from Mikarose. I bought it in January when I was in Utah. I was in the store and it called my name. Really, it said, Tiffany, you must buy this dress because you will look fabulous in it and it is a great dress to wear at nice events.)

This was the first time I've gone out for a really nice event or dinner that I didn't have to wear my abaya over pretty clothes. We drove to the Ambassador's home in the Diplomatic Quarter. The lines were busy getting through security, but I didn't mind. I'd rather be safe than sorry.

We walked into the courtyard of the Quincy House and saw three beautiful American sports cars gleaming in all their prettiness. I'm very partial to red mustangs. Once we stepped inside we followed a line of people through a hallway lined with beautiful photographs showing some lovely places in the United States like Glacier National Park in Montana, a field of flowers in Texas, a covered wagon in Nebraska, the Snake River in Idaho, a farm in Vermont. Seeing the pictures from my home country made me feel proud that I come from a beautiful place.

We went through the greeting line, shaking the hands of Ambassador Smith and his wife, Dr. Smith, as well as other members of the diplomatic corp. Then we stepped outside to enjoy the party. One of the staff showed us the way commenting with a teasing lilt in his voice that they had brought American's finest cuisine to the event. I'm sure many of the guests were delighted with MacDonald's, Pizza Hut, Dominoes, and Dairy Queen. I wasn't really impressed. Fortunately, they also offered a buffet of regional American favorites. I enjoyed the New England table with its offerings of clam chowder, crab cakes, and fish. They also had tiny whoopie pies.

While we ate, we mingled with the crowd. There were Saudi men dressed in their white thobes, with fancy formal robes thrown over the thobes. I didn't see any Saudi women with their husbands. I loved seeing the Indian couples with the women dressed in gorgeous saris. Quite a few military men were there, stiff and formal in their uniforms.

It is practically obligatory that when you start a conversation with someone new, you end up trading business cards. My husband had several made up in Arabic and English when we moved to Riyadh. I asked him what he does with all the cards he receives and he replied, "I just put them in a drawer." It made me laugh. But the cards are useful and I've used them several times.

There was a brief ceremony with Marines presenting the colors. A Miss Carter sang the National Anthem and did the best job I have heard in forever. She has a gorgeous voice and actually lets the melody and her voice do the work instead of trying to vocal gymnastics to impress the crowd. We also heard the Saudi National Anthem. Then Ambassador Smith gave a speech about building bridges between Saudi Arabia and the United States. He talked about the role that businesses play in helping create those bridges. The governor of Riyadh was there and the Ambassador joked that the governor, who used to fly fighter jets was now upgraded to the important task of solving Riyadh's traffic problems!

The rest of the Riyadh was fun. I met some really interesting people including the Saudi Minister of Foreign Affairs who takes pictures of food that he likes rather than eating it and getting fat. I'm not sure the Minister of Foreign Affairs would appreciate being called adorable, but he was really adorable. We loved the bluegrass band and the jazz duo.

Life Can Be So Very Good in Saudi Arabia

Very few people are willing to move to Saudi Arabia. It is understandable because Saudi Arabia is so very different with its harsh rules, intense heat, and restrictive environment. The people who do choose to come do so out of a variety of reasons including economic hardship (those benefit packages are pretty hard to pass up), a sense of adventure, and job opportunities. Some people hate it and live in misery for their time. Others grasp the adventure and roll with it. I feel like I'm in the latter category. In reflecting upon the last 14 months of my life in Riyadh I can say that life has been very good to me here.

Yesterday my husband, three of my children, and I attended a middle school performance of Peter Pan at the private international school my children attend. For 90 minutes a crowd of people coming from many different countries laughed at Smee, Captain Hook, the Lost Boys, and Peter Pan. We watched children from those same countries work together to create a magical performance that was simply delightful.

Today, we were at the school again celebrating dozens of different countries. We ate exotic food, admired the beauty and variety of the international costumes, watched some dazzling performances of folk dancing, and talked to interesting and intelligent people about their home countries. It was beautiful.

We live in a world fraught with violence, chaos, and war often relating to misunderstandings and greed between two clashing cultures. Racism and religious clashes rear their ugly heads to wage constant conflict at the cost of lives and peace. I often feel despair when I read the news or even ponder on the situation of many Middle Eastern countries bordering Saudi Arabia.

So perhaps you'll forgive me that I feel sentimental and hopeful when I attend events like this at an international school. On the surface, it may seem like an ordinary event. If you look deeper you'll see that both adults and children are changed by these events and interactions. My children won't ever be afraid to talk with someone dressed in traditional clothing from a different country because they've been exposed to people from all over the world. They won't be afraid of kids who have different religious beliefs because they'll remember times when they played with kids from all over the world playing cricket, four-square, or basketball at recess or think of working for months memorizing lines, learning songs and dances for a school performance.The next time I walk around New York City and see a women dressed in a hijab and modestly covered, instead of feeling shy or uncomfortable, I can smile at her and ask her where she's from. Interactions like these remove fear and misunderstanding because they create memorable connections.

I think these interactions become the building blocks for peace. When you start meaningfully interacting with people of different cultures, religions, and languages and develop friendships those differences cease to be threatening and become enlightening. My children don't spend time analyzing the differences between religious beliefs or cultural practices. All they know is that their Muslim, Indian, and Korean friends like to play sports at recess, enjoy technology, drink Orange Mirinda soda, and have families they care about. In light of those facts, those "ominous" differences seem trivial don't they?

To me these interactions and connections are the most meaningful experiences of my time abroad. I wish all people could have these experiences because I think the world would be a much better place for it. 

The Camel Beauty Contest

During the month of December thousands of camels and their owners from all over the Middle East gather in the desert about 310 km north of Riyadh for a month-long auction and Camel Beauty Festival. Two of our friends joined our family and we drove three and a half hours to explore the auction and festival. When we saw thousands of tents pitched in the desert and camels everywhere, we knew we had found the right spot.

Before checking out the camel beauty contest, we first explored the camel auction and souk. The souk was set up on both sides of the desert track and had many tents filled with camel equipment such as saddles, blankets, bridles, herding crops, and bells. There were stalls with necessities like food, water, fuel, and stacks of firewood. Along with the necessities there were stalls with carpets, fur-lined coats and vests, and other typical things you would expect to see at bazaars.

After driving through the souk, we entered the area where camels were penned in and auctions were taking place. I didn’t need to understand Arabic to recognize the rhythm of an auctioneer calling bids and selling camels. Along the wide desert track, cars full of young men raced along with windows rolled down, playing loud music and shouting welcome at us. Camels were everywhere, penned in makeshift corrals of barbed wire. Some camels were hobbled on the ground. And then there were the herds of camels crossing the road. Some were hobbled on one side so they couldn’t run, while others were free to roam at will. One mammoth white camel was separated from his group by our car. He looked irritated as he tried to poke his head into our open car window. I was amazed at how the camels ignored the chaos of noise, cars, and people with perfect disdain.

We really wanted to get up close and personal with a camel so we found a good place to stop. Pretty soon, we were surrounded by a group of men eager to show us the camels. One guy wanted us to take turns riding his very cranky camel. Our friend got on and rode around for a bit. Everyone else was leery about taking a turn because the camel seemed really upset. But the guy really wanted us to try riding the camel so he ended up standing on top of the camel to show us that the camel was docile and safe. We were still skeptical.

 While we enjoyed this exchange, cameras were snapping all around us. All the guys wanted pictures of Bubba J. They thought Miss B was pretty cute and one man gave her a kiss which totally freaked her out and she started crying. I truly understood her confusion as a) we don't generally allow our children to be kissed by strangers, b) the guy had the yellowest teeth I had ever seen, and c) the crowd was starting to get overwhelming. My oldest son hopped up on top of the car and started taking pictures of the crowd. It was a pretty crazy experience.

With a lot of laughing, smiling, and talking, we managed to extricate ourselves from the crowd and drove on to explore other areas. 

After a short drive, we entered the camel beauty contest where we watched a herding show. A group of white camels would enter the arena following their herder on a black camel. The herder would take the group through their paces, showing the judges how the camels could follow a pattern and work together as a group. We saw three different herds on display. It was interesting and brought to mind cattle shows and rodeos I grew up with in Wyoming.

We joined a large group for lunch and more activities at a large outdoor camping area set up with a large tent with the sand covered with rugs. My kids rode camels while we snacked on different types of dried fruits and buns filled with chocolate. We watched a demonstration of dogs resembling greyhounds that chased a kangaroo rat. My boys’ favorite part of the day was seeing the beautiful peregrine falcon. Falconry in Saudi Arabia is a centuries-old sport and exists to this day. The falcon was graceful, elegant, and poised, tolerating the crowds of people clamoring to touch him. Our day ended with a delicious meal of Saudi traditional dishes eaten outside on a carpet we shared with other families. It was an adventure not to be missed and will rank high on our favorite things we have done in Saudi Arabia. 

Egypt: Luxor!

Luxor is a peaceful city on the banks of the Nile. Ruins, ancient buildings, artifacts pop up everywhere. The present mingles peacefully with the past. We stayed in two flats on the west bank at an apartment building owned by a British/Egyptian couple. They operate a business called Flats in Luxor offering budget accommodation within Luxor. The flats are basic, fairly comfortable, and spacious. Our air conditioning wasn't working great, so we were a little hot at night. The apartments had nice kitchens. We ended up fixing our own breakfast, made from food we purchased at the local market. Otherwise, we enjoyed a couple of meals prepared by the on-site chef on the rooftop, and some meals in town.

The flats on the West Bank overlook a banana plantation. The area was beautiful, if a little primitive. We were set a little off a narrow road which bordered a canal. Donkeys, carts, and bicycles were about the most common traffic along this little road.

The West Bank of Luxor is quiet and peaceful. It is not the tourist part of town, with busy restaurants. There are a lot of farmers and people who lead ordinary lives.

The Blooming Desert

Earlier last week, a friend sent out an email organizing a trip to the Blooming Desert, a place in the desert that is remarkable in the spring for its green vegetation of trees and even grass. On Thursday, we met a group of families with several cars and made the trek outside of Riyadh.

The King has a section of the Blooming Desert cordoned off for his private use. (Ah, the VIP privilege in Saudi Arabia. . . ) The rest of the area is a free acess area for anyone to enjoy. The Blooming Desert has poles around it to clearly delineate it from the rest of the desert.

Once we arrived, we decided to drive around the perimeter to find a good spot for our picnic. The area was bursting with cars and families enjoying picnics. One thing that never ceases to amuse me is that Saudis take their picnics seriously and usually bring casseroles, pressure cookers, and tea pots along. They also bring carpets and cushions to make themselves comfortable.

The desert trek around the park is best driven in a four-wheel drive vehicle. I was in a car with some friends and the tire went flat. We ended up piling in with another family. As a side note: when treking out to the desert it is wise to always go in a group with at least three or more cars. I've never been on an expedition that hasn't ended with someone having car troubles. If you do have trouble, then you aren't stranded in a dangerous situation.

We found a nice spot where we rested in the shade of several trees. I think we were the only westerners in the whole park. There were lots of groups of Saudi men and they sure stared out all the women with uncovered hair. I was hoping that we could take off our abayas but realized there were just too many Saudis around to do so. Honestly, I was really grumpy about it. I hate wearing the abaya outside when it is so hot. It just sucks in the heat and you stand around baking in your clothes.

Some of the men in our group started a game of American football on the grass. The were soon joined by some boys who wanted to learn the game. Lots of families came out to watch and take pictures.

When I took my kids around to walk and enjoy the novelty of grass in the desert, lots of people wanted to take pictures. I have found that within Riyadh, Saudis can be quite shy and reserved and aren't always inclined to talk to you. But outside of Riyadh, Saudis do want to talk and chat. It's fun and makes going out of Riyadh worthwhile and interesting.

Again, our group got lots of attention. No one bothered us, but there were lots of stares, especially from groups of men. The women would approach us and ask to take pictures. And the kids were really friendly, wanting to talk and play.

On our drive back to get the car with the flat tire fixed, we stopped and found some desert melons. Desert melons are small melons, a little larger than tennis balls that look exactly like watermelons in miniature. I don't know if you can eat them. They were really cool. I got frustrated with the heat and the abaya so I took it off. I think I shocked a few Saudi families, but really there are times when you can't be bothered with the hot black abaya, especially outside in the desert heat.

It was a fun outing, one that I'd like to do again. And hopefully, it won't be as crowded so I can take off my abaya!

Brief Moments Lead to Life-Long Impressions

I wrote this piece for a local newsletter several months ago. However, the piece didn't quite fit with the intent of the newsletter. I've saved this for awhile and now wish to share it. Many of my friends were very generous in their time and shared their comments and critiques. Any errors or mistakes are solely mine and should not reflect on those generous friends who offered their wisdom and editorial skills.

I grew up in a small, insular town in the rugged mountains of Wyoming. Our town was remarkable for its homogeny in religion, politics, and race.  While my hometown was a lovely, peaceful place to grow up, my adult life has been filled with greater diversity. My husband and I enjoyed living in both Sweden for a long time, and in Israel for a brief period. Culture shock hit me terribly hard when our family moved back to the United States and settled in New York. My experiences abroad changed me enough that I felt like a stranger in my own country. When my husband was asked if he would consider an international assignment in Saudi Arabia two years after resettling back in the United States, neither of us hesitated to accept the opportunity.

We prepared for two years for the assignment. My husband worked intensively with Saudi colleagues while I planned. I read about the country, prepared our five children for the big move, and reviewed skills I would need to survive in the Middle East. Despite all of this preparation, and knowing, intellectually at least, how life would play out for me as a woman in Riyadh, stepping off the plane in Saudi Arabia was still a shock.

As a fairly well-traveled woman, I still wasn't prepared for the stark visual contrast of seeing women completely covered by black abayas. At first I felt terribly insecure. Would I offend a muttawa and risk an unpleasant encounter? Would I smile or behave in a culturally inappropriate way to a man? That first trip to Riyadh, I felt afraid to step away from my husband even for a second. Eventually, I was able to relax, and we were able to find a villa and proceed with our move.

I find it fascinating to learn more about different cultures and their local food customs, languages, and social rules. While living and traveling abroad, I have worked hard to learn about different cultures while trying to avoid arrogant judgment. Diversity is invigorating and differences can be interesting. I find different social rules, while at times complex and confusing, interesting to consider. Seeing  different political systems through the lens of a Caucasian American woman have given me greater insight into my own political beliefs. Observing the differences has allowed me to better understand myself and my place in the world. While trying to process all these differences, it helps me to focus on commonalities. With few exceptions, I have found most cultures deeply value families and relationships. I have met many interesting, well-read people with a similar passion to understand different cultures. With these thoughts in mind, I’ve tried to approach my adventures in Saudi Arabia with open-mindedness.

In many ways, I’m well-suited to live in Saudi Arabia. I’ve been home raising my five children for the last thirteen years and living on a limited budget. While we love traveling, we save for those big trips, meaning that we lead a quiet lifestyle. I’m quite adept at entertaining children and myself without a lot of extra help from others. So living in a compound with swimming pools, a bowling alley, lots of freedom for my kids, and with many luxuries is a treat. It is a tremendous privilege for our family to live abroad. I’m so grateful that my children are experiencing remarkable things as they interact with children from all over the world, explore different cultures, and broaden their horizons. Despite all this luxury, fun, and privilege, I still struggle with aspects of living in the Kingdom.

It has puzzled me that as a fairly conservative woman, and as a member of a conservative religion, I would feel so frustrated with the situation of women in Saudi Arabia. I didn’t spend a lot of time dwelling on women’s rights in Saudi Arabia while living in the U.S. as I have always felt that I shouldn’t impose my own cultural standards on another culture. After all, I’m a guest here, and I do not want to be the stereotypical arrogant American, proclaiming that our way is the ONLY way. But still, I’m troubled by what I read, what I observe, and the frustrating barriers which separate western women from Saudi women.

I want to respect the veils, head scarves, and abayas, but I feel that all the cloth serves as an effective impediment to communication and interaction. In my opinion all the coverings Saudi women don symbolize the stark differences between a women’s role in society, religion, and culture in Saudi Arabia as opposed to the United States. In trying to bridge the two cultures, I have been studying Islamic tracts for religious context, and reading books about Saudi culture and history. It’s a bit of a struggle trying to understand and accept the role of women in Saudi Arabia.

I treasure moments of interaction with Saudi women at the grocery stores, malls, or amusement parks. Our conversations may be brief, but in those moments of shared thoughts, I feel like humanity can transcend the artificial barriers of cultural differences. Perhaps my frustration with the situation of Saudi women has less to do with what I perceive as unequal and more to do with how it creates barriers between women from different cultures. If we can’t, or won’t, talk with one another, we can’t achieve understanding. If we can’t achieve understanding, we can never hope to make the world a better place. I think that understanding through communication leads to less strife, more tolerance, and opportunities for friendship across cultural barriers.

I want my time in Saudi Arabia to continue to be a period where I gain a better understanding of one of  the most misunderstood regions of the world. I hope to learn more about what drives people in this country, how the women live and perceive their lives, and what gives Saudi women meaning and purpose. I will continue trying to cross those forbidding cultural barriers in an effort to gain understanding.

How do you deal with the cultural differences between Saudi and ex-pat women? Have you connected with Saudi women? Do you find more commonalities than differences?

A Quiet Outing

The morning air is still cool with the promise of warmth and heat shimmering in the pale rays of the sun. I hustle the younger children throughout our villa, reminding them to brush their teeth, go to the bathroom, grab a hat. My oldest son assembles pizza bread in the kitchen. Our recipe is simple. Cover thin arabic flat bread with pizza sauce, sprinkle with cheese and favorite toppings, add another piece of bread on top and bake until the cheese is melted.Soon the bread is finished and we gather in the car. The kids bicker about the seats, chargers misplaced, and books. We drive through the traffic of Riyadh. My husband handles the erratic driving of other drivers with cool composure, eyes and ears alert as he navigates our Nissan Pathfinder out of the city.

We drive on a highway with villas, shops, restaurants, and mosques lining the way. Soon the villas become more sparse until we see grand peaks rise out of the beige desert sand. Typically, the air is dusty and hazy, but today the sky is so blue and bright. I feast my eyes on the vivid color of the sky, grateful for the view.

We drive for over an hour, trying to remember which exit we need to take. After three wrong turns, we find the right exit and drive away from the highway to the sand dunes. It is still spring and the heat doesn't quite scorch the earth yet. Green trees, not just palm trees, line fences. I look over and see a large swath of green breaking up the red sand. The green startles me, but I soon see a large sprinkler, indicating the green is a field of some sort.

We arrive at a rough parking lot of sorts. Directly at the edge of the lot is a large sand dune. At the base of the dune, remnants of others' picnics and desert excursions mar the beauty of the sand. I step out of the car, feeling the heat far more intensely than I expect for early March. The sand is hot, almost too hot to bear. My socks shield my feet from the worst part of it. But my kids who have too enthusiastically kicked off their shoes howl as they try and hop unsuccessfully on the sand to get their shoes.

We pull out plastic buckets and shovels along with large black plastic garbage bags. My husband begins to fill the bags with sand while the children make their way up to the top of the dune. I swelter and sweat in my black abaya, feeling grumpy at the way it focuses the heat. My husband takes pity on me and tells me to go to the top so I can remove my abaya without being seen. It is difficult to walk up the dune with my arms full of food and water. When I step the sand slips and I feel my progress is minimal.

I trudge on while my husband continues filling bags for our homemade sandbox. I finally get to the top and set down my things. I sink into the sand, feeling its surprising coolness. This side of the dune has been in the shade. I slip off my abaya and take off my shoes, shaking out the sand. After I remove my shoes, I dig my toes in the sand. My youngest son who is three, squeals in delight as he slides down the dune on his bottom. I revel in the soft, almost silky texture of the sand. I run my fingers through the sand, scooping up a handful of sand and bringing it close to my eyes to closely examine the fine grains. The array of colors dazzles my eyes. Looking out over the landscape, I see the dunes go on for miles, some gentle slopes while others have jagged, sharp edges. The dunes are beautiful.

My children are content as they play in the sand, running along the razor-like edge of the dune, throwing themselves down the side and laughing as they half-slide, half-scoot down. I brush the sand over my legs, and look up at the sky, still so blue, with bright white clouds lazily floating in the sky. The warm sand beats on my face, as I enjoy the coolness of the sand. Drinking water feels refreshing in the warmth.

My husband finishes filling bags with sand and comes up to join us, plopping down beside me and grabs a bottle of water. We open the containers of pizza bread and eat, enjoying the simple food. My husband buries the kids in the sand. They laugh and giggle as their toes poke out of the sand. They close their eyes tightly to enjoy the sensation of the sand covering their bodies. My youngest son, his cheeks flushed from the heat, keeps playing with all his might, refusing to stop and eat, though he does help himself to the water bottle.

After a time the sun heats up the sand and we pack up our stuff and slip and slide down the dune to our car. Brushing off our clothes and body energetically, we then pile ourselves into the car. The exertion and heat of the morning makes everyone quiet as we head home to Riyadh. I'm really going to miss the desert and its beauty.