A l'occasion de la francophophonie, plusieurs ambassades ont organises des evenements culturels; ainsi nous sommmes alles a la residence de l'ambassadeur de Belgique pour la projection du film "Soeur Sourire" et a la residence de l'ambassadeur Suisse pour le film "petites vacances a Knokke Le Zoutte". C'est toujours agreable de participer a des evenements culturels, beaucoup plus calmes que certaines soirees dans Le quartier diplomatique, et tres relax. Hier soir, nous avons fait la rencontre d'un couple Suisse en voyage d'affaires de 3 jours a Riyad qui avait toutes les questions de nouveaux arrivants et beaucoup des prejudices et misconceptions de l'Arabie Saoudite. C'etait chouette de leur parler, je leur ai meme donne l'adresse du blog, pour qu'ils puissant lire un peu plus sur ce que c'est de vivre ici!
Un autre avantage de ces soirees sont les buffets. Nous avons eu droit a la traditionelle raclette du Valais Suisse. Je pense que la derniere fois que j'en ai mangee je devais avoir 12 ans, aux sports d'hiver a Leysin! Quel delice!
Comme quoi on ne s'ennuie pas au Royaume Magique! J'ai impatience d'aller au bazar de la francophonie Le weekend prochain!
Monday, March 28, 2011
Friday, March 18, 2011
What a sandstorm feels like...
One of the dangers of living in the desert is the sandstorm since we are completely surrounded by sand hundreds of miles around. However, since we’ve been in Riyadh, we have not been in a sandstorm of epic proportion, when you SEE the wall of sand moving forward and engulfing everything. Check out this video of a major sandstorm that hit downtown Riyadh in early 2009 in which you will see the wall moving forward from total visibility to nothing is distinguishable…Worst sandstorm in Riyadh
We have been caught in sandstorms; one was at the bottom of a wadi, driving back from the desert. We heard the wind coming, saw the lightning all around and soon we could hardly see in front of us. We knew the pillars of the bridge were close so we were looking for them, but only saw them when we were about 5 meters from them. Good thing we were hardly moving!
When a sandstorm blows through, expect sand all over. If you are outside, which I don’t recommend, cover your mouth and nose as quickly as possible, as the sand will get everywhere and get inside! My husband and two friends were playing golf last year when one hit suddenly. The three guys kept on playing…not the smartest move! When they came back to the compound, they had a thin layer of sand caked on their faces and their hair was blond, as sand has attached itself all over! For the next couple of months after that golf outing, all three were coughing and had respitory infections…since they did not cover their mouths and noses! So, my ad-vice is not to stay outside if you can avoid it.
When you are inside the safety of your house, listen to the wind and the sand hitting the windows. Expect sand to seep in under the doors, around the windows and be prepared to dust your house! You will see all furniture covered with a thin layer of “dust”, more sand than anything else. This is true on a daily basis. I could dust everywhere daily as it seems there is always sand deposit on the furniture.
When I vacuum or mop the floors, sand is what is mostly picked up. The bottom of the bucket is always full of sand, no matter that I vacuum the floors before washing them! So, yeah, living here you can’t forget that you are in the desert and that sand is all around.
For more information, read this article on How to Survive a Sandstorm
We have been caught in sandstorms; one was at the bottom of a wadi, driving back from the desert. We heard the wind coming, saw the lightning all around and soon we could hardly see in front of us. We knew the pillars of the bridge were close so we were looking for them, but only saw them when we were about 5 meters from them. Good thing we were hardly moving!
When a sandstorm blows through, expect sand all over. If you are outside, which I don’t recommend, cover your mouth and nose as quickly as possible, as the sand will get everywhere and get inside! My husband and two friends were playing golf last year when one hit suddenly. The three guys kept on playing…not the smartest move! When they came back to the compound, they had a thin layer of sand caked on their faces and their hair was blond, as sand has attached itself all over! For the next couple of months after that golf outing, all three were coughing and had respitory infections…since they did not cover their mouths and noses! So, my ad-vice is not to stay outside if you can avoid it.
When you are inside the safety of your house, listen to the wind and the sand hitting the windows. Expect sand to seep in under the doors, around the windows and be prepared to dust your house! You will see all furniture covered with a thin layer of “dust”, more sand than anything else. This is true on a daily basis. I could dust everywhere daily as it seems there is always sand deposit on the furniture.
When I vacuum or mop the floors, sand is what is mostly picked up. The bottom of the bucket is always full of sand, no matter that I vacuum the floors before washing them! So, yeah, living here you can’t forget that you are in the desert and that sand is all around.
For more information, read this article on How to Survive a Sandstorm
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Thunderstorm in the desert
As my Facebook status today I posted “Thunderstorm in the Desert” and immediately was asked if I meant it figuratively? Yes, Isa, you get mentionned ;-)! Although the atmosphere has been tense in the Middle East and this past weekend in Saudi Arabia, I really meant we were having a thunderstorm, with thunder, rain, lightning and the whole shebang! The weather these past few days has been weird… Thursday night we had a full blown sandstorm, with sands seeping all over the house and making it difficult to breath, followed with about enough raindrops to totally wreck the layer of sand on your car. Friday (our Sunday) I took the kids to the pool and the sky was so overcast the sun could not peak through. Perfect temperature and no sun meant it was not too hot, but no sunbathing. Friday night we had a major hailstorm that must have lasted over 10-15 minutes and dropped hail about the size of small marbles. Yesterday Monday, back at work, it was so hot and humid we turned on the AC in all the buildings and finished the afternoon with dark skies. And today, we started with some grey sky and had intermittent showers throughout the day. This evening, it’s raining again, rather steadily, making the streets of the compound wet and flooding our poorly irrigated yards. Oh well, guess I’ll have to take my umbrella tomorrow… and YES, I am still in the middle of the Arabian desert!
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Camel Souk visit
This past Thursday we visited the Camel Souk, a huge market on the outskirts of Riyadh where merchants are offering camels of all shapes and sizes for sale. Obviously we were not in the market to purchase a new camel to add to our herd, but more to show the camel souk to my sister-in-law visiting us for a week. At first, the children were not too keen on going there, as they don't appreciate the pungent smell of camels, but they were good sports for their aunt and came along, not like they had much of a choice, as we were all going. Along for the ride came another family from the compound, with their three daughters, for whom it was the first time coming up close with camels. The children were fascinated by the camels, offering their hands to come closer to the enormous beasts.
The enclosures where the camels stand are higher than the dirt road. The only explanation I can gather would be after years and years, layers after layers of straw, sand and poos have accumulated, rising the bottom level and making the already pretty tall camels look even taller and more impressive. While my two chidlren were stand-offish, the three little girls were all into the camels: getting real close to them, touching them and giving them blades of grass growing around the enclosures.
As much as we were interested in the camels, the camel owners/workers were even more interested in us, as not many tourists come by the camel souk. All three women had covered their hair, in order to not attract even more attention with our flowing blondish locks and also by respect for the local customs. The workers there greeted us, in Arabic, as they didn’t seem to speak English. With gestures they made us understand it was OK to look at their camels or that we had to leave, as we were disturbing camel mothers and their offspring. One even offered to carry one of the children so she could get closer to the camels.
In moments like these, we get to see real Saudis, hardworking and living in less than humble adobes but they tolerated us, or at least didn’t chase us away. Some were curious as far as our nationalities were concerned… I could hear them say “Americana” but I was quick to say that we were from “Belgica”, which really was the truth as 8 out of 10 of us were Belgian passport holders. Funnily enough we used English to speak to each other, as my Dutch is a little rusty and my compound neighbors are Dutch speakers from the North of Belgium while I'm a French speaker from the South of the country.
So, our Camel souk visit was interesting. Each time I've seen a camel up close, I'm just fascinated by how beautiful they are. Machala, camels have the most amazing eyelashes! And they are so gracious when they move. They remind me of the Death Walkers from the Star Wars movies, as they always look like they're going to fall but they move steadily and sure-footed every time! Their coats come in a variety of colors: some are beige, brown, dark brown and even most surprisingly black. And their hair sometimes is curly or straighter, but I’ve yet to see a straight haired camel. We had the best time observing one chewing his food, with his jaw going left to right and back the other way. Imagine a cow chewing on grass, but with the mouth open. That camel had to have the coolest teeth I've seen in a camel...
The enclosures where the camels stand are higher than the dirt road. The only explanation I can gather would be after years and years, layers after layers of straw, sand and poos have accumulated, rising the bottom level and making the already pretty tall camels look even taller and more impressive. While my two chidlren were stand-offish, the three little girls were all into the camels: getting real close to them, touching them and giving them blades of grass growing around the enclosures.
As much as we were interested in the camels, the camel owners/workers were even more interested in us, as not many tourists come by the camel souk. All three women had covered their hair, in order to not attract even more attention with our flowing blondish locks and also by respect for the local customs. The workers there greeted us, in Arabic, as they didn’t seem to speak English. With gestures they made us understand it was OK to look at their camels or that we had to leave, as we were disturbing camel mothers and their offspring. One even offered to carry one of the children so she could get closer to the camels.
In moments like these, we get to see real Saudis, hardworking and living in less than humble adobes but they tolerated us, or at least didn’t chase us away. Some were curious as far as our nationalities were concerned… I could hear them say “Americana” but I was quick to say that we were from “Belgica”, which really was the truth as 8 out of 10 of us were Belgian passport holders. Funnily enough we used English to speak to each other, as my Dutch is a little rusty and my compound neighbors are Dutch speakers from the North of Belgium while I'm a French speaker from the South of the country.
So, our Camel souk visit was interesting. Each time I've seen a camel up close, I'm just fascinated by how beautiful they are. Machala, camels have the most amazing eyelashes! And they are so gracious when they move. They remind me of the Death Walkers from the Star Wars movies, as they always look like they're going to fall but they move steadily and sure-footed every time! Their coats come in a variety of colors: some are beige, brown, dark brown and even most surprisingly black. And their hair sometimes is curly or straighter, but I’ve yet to see a straight haired camel. We had the best time observing one chewing his food, with his jaw going left to right and back the other way. Imagine a cow chewing on grass, but with the mouth open. That camel had to have the coolest teeth I've seen in a camel...
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Guest Blogger 2: Groceries and Mall
Second Blog entry written by my sister in law, visiting us for a week...
Yesterday was my first full day in Saudi Arabia. Worth, Chris, and the kids all had to go to school, so I was in the villa on my own. As I indicated in my comments yesterday, I decided to take the van to the mall to get an abaya rather than try to wear one with a giant hole in the back. So, at 9 o'clock, I went to catch the van provided by the compound for the women during the day. (Remember, women are not allowed to drive in Saudi Arabia.) I was told it was for "villa residents only, so I couldn't ride. Chris happened to call at just that moment, and I wasn't back in the villa for 3 minutes when I got a call from the Compound inviting me to come ride the bus. Go Chris! At that poing, I was really hoping that I'd meet a nice lady on the bus who'd take me under her wing. Sure enough, I did! Chris's friend Sarika from Thailand was also in the van that morning and agreed to let me tag along with her.
The drive itself was a bit harrowing (the lines in the road are apprently just a suggestion) and I was quite queasy by the time we got to the mall. Fortunately, that subsided quickly, and we wandered around a bit doing some window shopping. It was truly amazing to see the number of shops that catered to women. There was shop after shop after shop after shop of fancy-dress establishments, with gowns fit for the Oscars! Yet no one would ever see them but their husbands or other women. What a shame! I was also surprised by the number of women in veils. I expected the abayas (black robes) and the hijabs (head scarves), but was not expecting to see women's faces veiled, with only their eyes showing. I even saw one woman in a full burqa!
The mall does have a smaller number of shops selling nothing but abayas, though not nearly as many as sold fancy dresses. I was able to get one that fit (see blog #1 about the problems with borrowed abayas), though it's not particularly attractive. Some are very elaborate with gems and embroidery; mine is of a nice fabric, but it simply has some braided ribbon around the sleeves. Oh, but those sleeves are about 18-24 inches around, which is much nicer than the tight sleeves of the borrowed abaya. They're so dang hot. I'm hot natured normally. Just a few degrees above my comfort zone and I'm sweating like a pig. Anyway, I nearly caused a diplomatic incident when the male clerk told me to try it on. I asked "here?" He said yes. So I started to take off the abaya I was wearing to try on the new one, when both clerks & Sarika yelled "NO!" I was supposed to try it on *over* the Abaya. Oops. I guess I'm just too damned American. When we went to a different mall today, I noticed that in the ladies' restroom, there are dressing rooms. Apparently, you have to buy the clothes, take them to a dressing room, try them on, and either take them home or return them to the store. It's a really good thing Sarika was with me when I was buying my abaya; she's so nice and helpful, and I'm glad she was there. She talked them down from 400 SR to 200SR, and they hemmed it to length in the 10 minutes we had to wait. Sarika's a natural at haggling!
The other big experience that morning was going to the grocery store. But the mundane term "grocery store" doesn't do this place justice. It's called Danube, and it's probably equivalent to a Central Market in Texas, or maybe a Whole Foods. Not organic, necessarily, but beautiful and well kept. The bread section was at least 50 yards long. The fruits and vegetables were arranged with an artistic flair. There was a whole section--bigger than the fruit & veg section back home--devoted *entirely* to dates. Yep. Dates. Shrink-wrapped; dried; paste; suitable-for-gift-giving-tinned. If it's associated with dates, you name it, they had it in that corner. Worth said they produce something like 500 or 600 different varieties of dates in K.S.A. alone.
When in foregin grocery stores, I always love to look at the chips aisle. The flavors are usually ... well, ... different? In Japan, for example, there's shrimp-flavored chips. In Australia, they make chicken-flavored chips. The tempting flavor here was "French Cheese" Lay's. Judging by the picture, it's apparently Swiss cheese. But oh my, I have a new favorite flavor!!! Naturally, I bought a bag of something so unusually named. I also bought a couple cans of ginger ale to settle my tummy, and a bottle of water. Unfortunately, I had not picked up a basket, and this is what led to my "freak out" experience that I mentioned yesterday.
I had my arms full of stuff and a young man kept pointing to a basket that no one was using. I wouldn't take it b/c it had some stuff in there, but he just emptied it for me and gave it to me. So I put my stuff in, smiled, and said "thank you." Oops. Apparently, you're not supposed to smile at men here. I'm just too damned American, I guess. Anyway, I went about my business, went around the corner of an aisle, and there he was again. I thought that was kinda funny, & he was smiling, so I smiled and said "hey." Oops. Apparently, you're not supposed to say "hey" to men here. I'm just too damned American, I guess. A few minutes later, I ran into him again. By this time, I was feeling awkward, and in my typical way of dealing with an awkard situation, I smiled real big and said hey again. Oops again. (See oops #1 and oops #2.) At this point he walked past me, quite closely to me, actually, which I deliberately ignored. Then he passed behind me again, said "very beautiful" and grabbed my butt! ! ! ! I was floored! Gobsmacked! Stunned! BUT NOT speechless. I whipped around and yelled "Stop it! NO! NO!" with a very stern face and a finger waggle. Turned out that the first pass was a brush-by, not a siple accident due to lack of concern about personal space. I guess I'm just too damned American.
I had to self medicate after that. With two -- count 'em -- TWO scoops of ice cream. Kiwi and Passion fruit. 10:30 a.m. is not too early for ice cream after you've been practically assaulted, is it?
Yesterday was my first full day in Saudi Arabia. Worth, Chris, and the kids all had to go to school, so I was in the villa on my own. As I indicated in my comments yesterday, I decided to take the van to the mall to get an abaya rather than try to wear one with a giant hole in the back. So, at 9 o'clock, I went to catch the van provided by the compound for the women during the day. (Remember, women are not allowed to drive in Saudi Arabia.) I was told it was for "villa residents only, so I couldn't ride. Chris happened to call at just that moment, and I wasn't back in the villa for 3 minutes when I got a call from the Compound inviting me to come ride the bus. Go Chris! At that poing, I was really hoping that I'd meet a nice lady on the bus who'd take me under her wing. Sure enough, I did! Chris's friend Sarika from Thailand was also in the van that morning and agreed to let me tag along with her.
The drive itself was a bit harrowing (the lines in the road are apprently just a suggestion) and I was quite queasy by the time we got to the mall. Fortunately, that subsided quickly, and we wandered around a bit doing some window shopping. It was truly amazing to see the number of shops that catered to women. There was shop after shop after shop after shop of fancy-dress establishments, with gowns fit for the Oscars! Yet no one would ever see them but their husbands or other women. What a shame! I was also surprised by the number of women in veils. I expected the abayas (black robes) and the hijabs (head scarves), but was not expecting to see women's faces veiled, with only their eyes showing. I even saw one woman in a full burqa!
The mall does have a smaller number of shops selling nothing but abayas, though not nearly as many as sold fancy dresses. I was able to get one that fit (see blog #1 about the problems with borrowed abayas), though it's not particularly attractive. Some are very elaborate with gems and embroidery; mine is of a nice fabric, but it simply has some braided ribbon around the sleeves. Oh, but those sleeves are about 18-24 inches around, which is much nicer than the tight sleeves of the borrowed abaya. They're so dang hot. I'm hot natured normally. Just a few degrees above my comfort zone and I'm sweating like a pig. Anyway, I nearly caused a diplomatic incident when the male clerk told me to try it on. I asked "here?" He said yes. So I started to take off the abaya I was wearing to try on the new one, when both clerks & Sarika yelled "NO!" I was supposed to try it on *over* the Abaya. Oops. I guess I'm just too damned American. When we went to a different mall today, I noticed that in the ladies' restroom, there are dressing rooms. Apparently, you have to buy the clothes, take them to a dressing room, try them on, and either take them home or return them to the store. It's a really good thing Sarika was with me when I was buying my abaya; she's so nice and helpful, and I'm glad she was there. She talked them down from 400 SR to 200SR, and they hemmed it to length in the 10 minutes we had to wait. Sarika's a natural at haggling!
The other big experience that morning was going to the grocery store. But the mundane term "grocery store" doesn't do this place justice. It's called Danube, and it's probably equivalent to a Central Market in Texas, or maybe a Whole Foods. Not organic, necessarily, but beautiful and well kept. The bread section was at least 50 yards long. The fruits and vegetables were arranged with an artistic flair. There was a whole section--bigger than the fruit & veg section back home--devoted *entirely* to dates. Yep. Dates. Shrink-wrapped; dried; paste; suitable-for-gift-giving-tinned. If it's associated with dates, you name it, they had it in that corner. Worth said they produce something like 500 or 600 different varieties of dates in K.S.A. alone.
When in foregin grocery stores, I always love to look at the chips aisle. The flavors are usually ... well, ... different? In Japan, for example, there's shrimp-flavored chips. In Australia, they make chicken-flavored chips. The tempting flavor here was "French Cheese" Lay's. Judging by the picture, it's apparently Swiss cheese. But oh my, I have a new favorite flavor!!! Naturally, I bought a bag of something so unusually named. I also bought a couple cans of ginger ale to settle my tummy, and a bottle of water. Unfortunately, I had not picked up a basket, and this is what led to my "freak out" experience that I mentioned yesterday.
I had my arms full of stuff and a young man kept pointing to a basket that no one was using. I wouldn't take it b/c it had some stuff in there, but he just emptied it for me and gave it to me. So I put my stuff in, smiled, and said "thank you." Oops. Apparently, you're not supposed to smile at men here. I'm just too damned American, I guess. Anyway, I went about my business, went around the corner of an aisle, and there he was again. I thought that was kinda funny, & he was smiling, so I smiled and said "hey." Oops. Apparently, you're not supposed to say "hey" to men here. I'm just too damned American, I guess. A few minutes later, I ran into him again. By this time, I was feeling awkward, and in my typical way of dealing with an awkard situation, I smiled real big and said hey again. Oops again. (See oops #1 and oops #2.) At this point he walked past me, quite closely to me, actually, which I deliberately ignored. Then he passed behind me again, said "very beautiful" and grabbed my butt! ! ! ! I was floored! Gobsmacked! Stunned! BUT NOT speechless. I whipped around and yelled "Stop it! NO! NO!" with a very stern face and a finger waggle. Turned out that the first pass was a brush-by, not a siple accident due to lack of concern about personal space. I guess I'm just too damned American.
I had to self medicate after that. With two -- count 'em -- TWO scoops of ice cream. Kiwi and Passion fruit. 10:30 a.m. is not too early for ice cream after you've been practically assaulted, is it?
Guest Blogger: Sister in Law Elaine
My sister in law is spenidng a week in Riyadh, visiting us and the city. Here are her first impressions...
Well, friends, I'm spending my quarter break in Saudi Arabia to visit my brother and his family. Lots of folks have asked me if it's wise to travel to the Middle East right now. I can only say that this has been planned since October, and I just had to see my little ones!!!
I set out Friday noonish for Houston. Only a five-and-a-half hour drive, but a heck of a lot cheaper than the $750 extra it would've cost to fly from Monroe to Intergalactic (including luggage fees, yikes!). Got a free reward night at a hotel right by the airport. Their shuttle picked me up a little after 9:30 am, and by 10 a.m, I was waiting at the gate. I tell you, a morning flight to Dubai is definitely the way to go. It's only about half full, which makes security move much faster. I finally had to go through one of those full-body scanners. I really wanted to flip the bird as it took the picture, but I didn't want to risk getting into trouble. bleah.
So, a 14-hour flight to Dubai on Emirates airlines isn't that bad. There's a really good amount of legroom, an amazing individual entertainment system, and good food. The service is GREAT! I admired the little hand puppets they handed out to the kids and asked to buy one for Emma & Alex, and she just gave me one... for each of them! I wish all had gone as smoothly, though, as I had the worst seatmates ever! Couple in their 40s, I think from Africa. She snored like a revving sports car, and sang to herself (outloud) when the ride got bumpy. He never learned to use his inside voice, so whenever he turned to talk to his wife, I felt like he was yelling at me. And apparently, he didn't like the headphones, or couldn't figure out how to adjust them, so he hung them around his neck, and turned up the sound *really loud*! Then, they both sang along with the music, while he conducted! I asked them to turn it down, I got earplugs, I moved to the seat across the aisle, and I could still hear it!
That flight reiterated something for me, though: I'm not as young (or as thin) as I used to be. Traveling is getting harder on this old body. When I landed in Dubai, I had a 6 hour layover, so I'd hoped to go into the City. By the time I had finalized the arrangements for the bus tour, they told me, "Oh, well, the bus won't be here until 3:00. [it was at that poing about 1:45] You won't have time to take the tour and get back for your flight." Huh. So I decided to stay put. Camped out in one of the chaises they have, I actually slept more in the airport than I did on the plane!
It's probably a good thing I didn't go into Dubai at that point though. I was feeling a bit ... overwhelmed? I've been thinking about this and can't quite pin-point my emotion. Was it just exhaustion? homesickness? culture shock? I'm not really sure. I've had 2 honest-to-goodness bouts of homesickness in my life: Japan, 1986; Wales, 1992. Not fun. So I don't think this was really homesickness, not yet anyway. I guess culture shock is the closest. Feeling like I haven't a clue what's going on and fear to step outside my comfort zone. It was strange, to say the least, to hear the call to prayer while listening to Sheryl Crow on the loudspeakers at the same time. And then when Cher came on a couple minutes later... well, you can imagine that blew my mind.
And then coming to Riyadh, worrying about having to wear an abaya, worrying about making it through customs & immigration... Well, surprisingly enough, customs and immigration was actually *easier* than coming back home to the States. The hard part was getting the visa. I guess once you've been approved, they don't worry too much about you. (and just as an aside here... gotta wonder how people can afford to take these flights to Saudi, when 1/3 of the luggage on the carousel was cardboard boxes tied up with rope.) My brother met me with an Abaya (one of sister in law's). If any of you know her, you know she's tall, and thin, and beautiful. Imagine me trying to wrap that thing around my prodigous bosom. ha! They found one that fits me, borrowed from a friend who was pregnant when she wore it. You can imagine how that made me feel! It's official. I've GOTTA go on a diet. Anyway, the problem is, this one has a big hole in it from where she tried to iron it (it's made out of polyester).
So that means, today, while the paretns and the kids are at school, I've decided to take the compound's bus to the mall(they live in a lovely, very large villa in a western compound guarded by M-50 machine guns) to try to find an abaya to fit me. Talk about stepping outside your comfort zone! I'll be (essentially) by myself, in a country that doesn't particularly like independent single women, shopping for an abaya to cover up my "indecent" western clothes. I'm already chafing at the bit. ... or at the abaya as it were. God bless Chris, who gave me her cell phone for the day. Safety net!
I'm nervous, I'm not gonna lie. Theoretically, this shouldn't be any more difficult or scary than shopping in Japan or Sweden, or anywhere else I don't know the language. But it is. Much, much scarier. I'll let you know how it goes later.
Well, friends, I'm spending my quarter break in Saudi Arabia to visit my brother and his family. Lots of folks have asked me if it's wise to travel to the Middle East right now. I can only say that this has been planned since October, and I just had to see my little ones!!!
I set out Friday noonish for Houston. Only a five-and-a-half hour drive, but a heck of a lot cheaper than the $750 extra it would've cost to fly from Monroe to Intergalactic (including luggage fees, yikes!). Got a free reward night at a hotel right by the airport. Their shuttle picked me up a little after 9:30 am, and by 10 a.m, I was waiting at the gate. I tell you, a morning flight to Dubai is definitely the way to go. It's only about half full, which makes security move much faster. I finally had to go through one of those full-body scanners. I really wanted to flip the bird as it took the picture, but I didn't want to risk getting into trouble. bleah.
So, a 14-hour flight to Dubai on Emirates airlines isn't that bad. There's a really good amount of legroom, an amazing individual entertainment system, and good food. The service is GREAT! I admired the little hand puppets they handed out to the kids and asked to buy one for Emma & Alex, and she just gave me one... for each of them! I wish all had gone as smoothly, though, as I had the worst seatmates ever! Couple in their 40s, I think from Africa. She snored like a revving sports car, and sang to herself (outloud) when the ride got bumpy. He never learned to use his inside voice, so whenever he turned to talk to his wife, I felt like he was yelling at me. And apparently, he didn't like the headphones, or couldn't figure out how to adjust them, so he hung them around his neck, and turned up the sound *really loud*! Then, they both sang along with the music, while he conducted! I asked them to turn it down, I got earplugs, I moved to the seat across the aisle, and I could still hear it!
That flight reiterated something for me, though: I'm not as young (or as thin) as I used to be. Traveling is getting harder on this old body. When I landed in Dubai, I had a 6 hour layover, so I'd hoped to go into the City. By the time I had finalized the arrangements for the bus tour, they told me, "Oh, well, the bus won't be here until 3:00. [it was at that poing about 1:45] You won't have time to take the tour and get back for your flight." Huh. So I decided to stay put. Camped out in one of the chaises they have, I actually slept more in the airport than I did on the plane!
It's probably a good thing I didn't go into Dubai at that point though. I was feeling a bit ... overwhelmed? I've been thinking about this and can't quite pin-point my emotion. Was it just exhaustion? homesickness? culture shock? I'm not really sure. I've had 2 honest-to-goodness bouts of homesickness in my life: Japan, 1986; Wales, 1992. Not fun. So I don't think this was really homesickness, not yet anyway. I guess culture shock is the closest. Feeling like I haven't a clue what's going on and fear to step outside my comfort zone. It was strange, to say the least, to hear the call to prayer while listening to Sheryl Crow on the loudspeakers at the same time. And then when Cher came on a couple minutes later... well, you can imagine that blew my mind.
And then coming to Riyadh, worrying about having to wear an abaya, worrying about making it through customs & immigration... Well, surprisingly enough, customs and immigration was actually *easier* than coming back home to the States. The hard part was getting the visa. I guess once you've been approved, they don't worry too much about you. (and just as an aside here... gotta wonder how people can afford to take these flights to Saudi, when 1/3 of the luggage on the carousel was cardboard boxes tied up with rope.) My brother met me with an Abaya (one of sister in law's). If any of you know her, you know she's tall, and thin, and beautiful. Imagine me trying to wrap that thing around my prodigous bosom. ha! They found one that fits me, borrowed from a friend who was pregnant when she wore it. You can imagine how that made me feel! It's official. I've GOTTA go on a diet. Anyway, the problem is, this one has a big hole in it from where she tried to iron it (it's made out of polyester).
So that means, today, while the paretns and the kids are at school, I've decided to take the compound's bus to the mall(they live in a lovely, very large villa in a western compound guarded by M-50 machine guns) to try to find an abaya to fit me. Talk about stepping outside your comfort zone! I'll be (essentially) by myself, in a country that doesn't particularly like independent single women, shopping for an abaya to cover up my "indecent" western clothes. I'm already chafing at the bit. ... or at the abaya as it were. God bless Chris, who gave me her cell phone for the day. Safety net!
I'm nervous, I'm not gonna lie. Theoretically, this shouldn't be any more difficult or scary than shopping in Japan or Sweden, or anywhere else I don't know the language. But it is. Much, much scarier. I'll let you know how it goes later.
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