Tuesday, March 26, 2013

Saudi Women: Changing Reality, Making History



Assumptions are made about Saudi women all the time - faceless, nameless women hidden away by their own society.  The main reason for these suppositions is based solely on their seeming invisibility and nonexistence due to their homogenous veiled clothing.  But in the five short years (or long, depending on how you look at it) since I moved to Saudi Arabia, I have seen changes and accomplishments achieved by Saudi women at an accelerating warp speed that I could have never imagined…     
  
For example, last summer a group of 11 Saudi women reached the base camp of Mount Everest in an effort to raise awareness for breast cancer.  Their journey was even more remarkable for the fact that they were the first Saudi women ever to climb the world’s highest mountain and to accomplish such an arduous feat.   Leading the expedition was HRH Princess Reema Bandar Al Saud, a motivated and driven modern Saudi woman who supports many charitable causes, chief among them being breast cancer research and awareness.  

Team of Saudi women who climbed Mt. Everest in 2012

Politically there have been some sweeping and historic changes for women in KSA.  For the first time ever, thirty Saudi women were recently sworn in to the Shura Council, the prestigious but virtually powerless consulting advisory board to the king.   Women have also been given the green light to vote in elections in the year 2015. 

When I first moved to KSA in 2007, the only fields women were allowed to work in were education and medicine.  This meant that women were put in the demeaning and uncomfortable position of having to purchase intimate apparel, cosmetics, and abayas from salesmen.   Reem Asaad, a successful Saudi financier, wife and mother, conceived of and spearheaded an effective three year long campaign which made the King himself sit up and take notice, with the end result changing the face of retail establishments in Saudi Arabia and upping the number of women in the work force by leaps and bounds.   

Saudi women's rights activist Reem Asaad

In the 2012 Olympics, two Saudi women made history by becoming the first ever female athletes to compete representing Saudi Arabia.  Although the circumstances surrounding their involvement in the Olympics bordered on extortion - KSA was forced to cave in to pressure by the Olympic Committee’s very real threat of disallowing the kingdom’s male athletes if females were not allowed to participate    (heaven forbid if Saudi men were deprived from competing!) -  these two token Saudi women definitely created the most buzz and attracted the most attention of any athletes at the Olympics.  


Saudi female athletes at the 2012 Olympics

Another Saudi woman made pioneering history this past year when she became the first Saudi filmmaker to produce a feature movie filmed wholly within Saudi Arabia.  Haifaa Al Mansour’s film Wadjda has been warmly received by audiences around the world and tells the tale of a young girl who has a simple but forbidden dream - owning and riding her own bicycle - and how she courageously stands up for herself, and in effect, for oppressed females everywhere.  Director Al Mansour met with challenges and difficulties while filming the movie, resorting to directing her crew by walkie-talkie from inside a nearby van out of fear that there would be problems if she were seen giving directions to the male members of her crew in public.    


Saudi filmmaker Haifaa Al Mansour

Okay, so women are still not permitted to drive yet in the kingdom, but I do feel that progress is being made in this area.  From all appearances, measures are being taken in preparation for women driving in Saudi Arabia to become a reality.  The Shura Council has agreed to take the matter of women driving under advisement.   Manal Al Sharif garnered worldwide attention and became the face of the women’s driving issue when in 2011 she was jailed for ten days for daring to drive on the streets of Saudi Arabia.  She has since received numerous honors and awards from organizations around the world.  

Saudi women's right activist Manal Al Sharif

So next time you think Saudi women are oppressed, think again.  

I’ll end this post with a popular anecdote about Bill Gates giving a speech in Saudi Arabia to an audience that was segregated by gender – men on one side and women veiled in black on the other side of a separating partition.  After Mr. Gates spoke, there was a question and answer period.  Someone asked if Gates thought it was realistic for Saudi Arabia to aspire to being one of the Top 10 countries in the world in technology by 2010.  “Well, if you’re not fully utilizing half the talent in the country,” Gates said, “you’re not going to get too close to the Top 10.” 

And how did the audience react?   “Well, one side of the room loved it,” quipped Gates.

Sunday, March 17, 2013

UPDATE: Where is Khaled?

Almost two years ago in the midst of the Arab Spring, I posted a video of a Saudi man named Khaled.  He had shown up for a planned protest on the streets of Riyadh - but he was the only one. Khaled spoke to a BBC News crew that was there waiting for anything to happen that day, amidst the muscle of an overwhelming police presence. CLICK HERE for my original post about what happened, along with the video of Khaled speaking.

Khaled Al-Johani disappeared shortly after he spoke on tape to the journalists. News reports labeled Khaled “the bravest man in Saudi Arabia.”  For almost one year he languished in a Saudi prison, deprived of access to legal representation, held without charges, and denied a speedy trial. In February 2012 in a court established to handle terrorism cases, he was finally charged with "support of demonstrations, presence at the location of a demonstration, and communications with the foreign media in a manner that harmed the reputation of the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia."

It appears as though Khaled was temporarily released from prison and was able to spend four months with his family – before he learned the verdict in his case and his fate: his sentence is eighteen months in prison.

Saudi human rights activist Abdullah al-Hamid, who himself has just been recently sentenced to a five year prison term for voicing his political opinions openly, tweeted: “The sentence on Khaled al-Johani to a year and a half in prison is an announcement to the whole world that the Saudi judiciary is a tool to suppress human rights. This is [the result of] secret trials.”

Sadly, Saudi Arabia continues its reputation as one of the worst abusers of human rights in the world.

Additional reading:

Susie's Big Adventure "The Bravest Man in Saudi Arabia"

Global Voices Online:  Lone Saudi protester sentenced to 18 months in prison

Khaled al-Johani (Wikipedia)

Friday, March 15, 2013

I Can Talk Arabic! Well, I'm learning ...



I first made an effort to start learning Arabic back when I was attending university, shortly after I met my future husband.   He and one of his friends taught me the very basics, like numbers, colors, and how to say very simple things like thank you, hello and goodbye.  When I moved to Saudi Arabia five years ago, I thought it would be imperative for me to learn more Arabic, but instead I found that people wanted to practice their English with me!  So learning the Arabic language hasn’t really been an urgent top priority for me.  At my age, learning a language is much more difficult than when I was younger.  Heck, after moving to KSA in my mid-50s, it took me three weeks just to master what to say in Arabic when I sneeze! 

Finally after five years in KSA, I took the plunge and enrolled in a conversational Arabic class.  I wanted to take a course that was fun, friendly, and informal - and I wanted to enroll in a class that would not put any pressure on me with testing or performance.  With the “I Can TalkArabic” course, I got just that!  I am about to complete my first session of 8 classes and am eagerly looking forward to more.   Not only have I thoroughly enjoyed each and every class and met some fantastic women in the process, but this “Women Only” class is the best deal in town!  


Founded by Hadeel Al-Abassi (hadeel.alabassi@gmail.com), a Saudi  writer, family counselor, and a life coach, she wanted to start an Arabic language institute in Jeddah that would focus on conversational skills instead of classical Arabic and grammar.   “I Can Talk Arabic” is perfect for the woman who wants to be able to carry on simple conversations in a variety of common everyday situations, such as shopping, traveling, banking, or at school.   “ICTA” has been in operation for one year now and conveniently offers morning or evening classes, from beginners to advanced.  Students can pay a discounted rate for the entire 8 class session up front or have the option of paying for each class separately. 

   
One of the things I like best about the "ICTA" classes is the relaxed atmosphere.  Classes are held in the pool house within the walls of Hadeel’s family villa.  Instead of a structured classroom environment, it feels more like a group of friends getting together each week and having a good time.   Women from many countries all over the world are enrolled in the class I am currently taking.  Students include business women, teachers, nurses, and housewives.  To top it all off, drinks and refreshments are also provided at each class too. 


What I also like about these classes is the opportunity to forge friendships with some real Saudi women.  Since I don't work, it's not always easy to meet other Saudi women outside my husband's family.  In my eyes, Hadeel and her crew represent the best of the typical Saudi woman - motivated, busy working mothers, well-educated and well-traveled, volunteering their time to share themselves, their culture and their beautiful language with other non-Saudi women who often feel intimidated by the different customs and culture.  I feel honored to have met them.

As this fledgling institute continues to attract more students, eventually they will outgrow their current facility, move to bigger digs, and have to raise their fees.  But for now, I'm happy with this learning experience just the way it is.
A new session of  "I Can Talk Arabic" classes will be starting soon.  

If you are interested in these WOMEN ONLY CLASSES, you can find out more information on the ICTA website.    

You can also join ICTA on Facebook.  

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

The Misnomer of the Bride Price in Afghanistan

The following article is written by SHAHLA NAIMI for WOMEN'S VOICE NOW  and is reprinted in its entirety ...

A Family Affair 

Zeba is 23 years old, sitting calmly in a green silk dress, adorned with gold jewelry and a sheer scarf revealing her curled, light-brown hair. She whispers a joke to her younger sister, who laughs loudly and calls over to their preoccupied mother, busy entertaining three of more than 300 guests attending Zeba’s wedding to Jamshid, a 25-year-old aspiring pharmacist.

The women’s section of the wedding hall is covered in pink and white rose petals and large tulips imported from India. Small children dressed in faded heels and suits run from one corner to another, dodging the reaching arms of young women and mothers trying to reign in the unruly small guests.
“I could not leave my kids at home. There was no one to care for them because we all had to come to the wedding and now the food is almost gone,” says Basbibi, feeding her two-year-old daughter while another six-year-old boy stands nearby soothing his crying toddler brother.


Photo Credit:  Women's Voices Now







Sinking in Debt

“500 people. 500 people. We had to feed 500 people, and all their kids and their cousins and their cousin’s children and just everyone,” said Jamshid’s father, Wahidullah, speaking to me the day following the wedding. The night before, greeting every guest at his son’s nuptials, he stood at the entrance of the Qalb-e-Asia (Heart of Asia) wedding hall from five pm until 11pm, and carefully noted the relatives who did not make an appearance (as per his wife’s orders).

“I will not lie. I told my wife this and I will tell you this: I secretly hoped few people would come. I make $500 a month. My son makes $250 a month. Our rent is $170 month. Oil is more expensive these days, and the price of bread just keeps going up. You know how much this wedding has cost me? $22,000. I owe everyone money, including my daughter-in-law’s family now.”

In Afghanistan’s urban centers, high wedding costs are disproportionate to meager salaries, leaving many families little choice but to borrow money from wherever they can. The cost of renting venues, buying dresses and gifts, organizing vehicle transport, purchasing food for hundreds of guests, and more, adds up quickly. Additional expenditures related to Afghan traditions, including providing the bride with gifts during an engagement ceremony and paying the bride’s family an agreed upon mahr (interpreted as a dowry, or bride price), make an Afghan wedding an expensive affair.

Prior to the wedding, Wahidullah paid Zeba’s father only half of the agreed upon $10,000 mahr. Feeling pressure from Zeba’s family to come up with the remaining $5,000 before the rest of the family found out their daughter had married with only half her publicized dowry, this was the first debt he would soon have to settle. Although Jamshid’s family could not afford such a high dowry, Zeba’s family refused to agree to the marriage unless the bride price was at least $10,000.

A Proposal and A Wedding

Two years ago, Jamshid met Zeba at Kabul University where they were classmates in the pharmaceutical faculty. Jamshid immediately fell for the girl who always wore a blue pin to hold her scarf on her head, and looked for any way to speak to her – borrowing a pencil, befriending her cousin who was also in the class, and once convincing her it was too dangerous to walk alone to the gate to be picked up by her older brother. During their first walk together, he told her how he felt, and she responded simply: “I will never marry before I finish my studies.”

“Okay,” he replied.

A year before the two graduated, Jamshid’s mother, Mariam, was in the living room putting on a light pink blush and a new velvet dress-suit her daughter embroidered for her the previous week. As usual, Mariam’s older sister arrived late, wearing bright red lipstick that was immediately removed by Jamshid’s mother.

“You can’t wear that right now. What will they think of us?” With the lipstick wiped off, the two sisters quickly went on their way to visit Zeba’s home.

Their job was to ask for Zeba’s hand in marriage on Jamshid’s behalf. They kept to all formalities – bringing large amounts of sweets for Zeba, allowing Zeba’s mother to do the talking, and, occasionally, dropping hints of their intentions. Zeba served the visitors tea, attending to all of their needs and speaking as quietly as possible. It was the first time she saw Jamshid’s mother. Zeba wanted her mother to approve the proposal, having hoped to marry Jamshid from the moment she first saw him hide a pencil in his coat pocket before asking her for one. She always kept extra pencils after that.

Jamshid’s mother left and Zeba went to the kitchen where her younger sister was busy preparing dinner. Her parents whispered in the living room, making calls to their relatives until dinner was on the table. The next morning, Zeba’s mother asked her daughter to come into the living room while her father sat nearby, engrossed in reading the Quran.

“The family of your classmate has come asking for your hand, and we want to know how you feel about this,” her mother asked.

“Whatever you want. I will do whatever you two believe is best,” Zeba replied.

“Okay. Good. We approve of the match and would like to see you two married,” her mother explained, noting further that the said “classmate” came from a good family and would treat her well. They lived nearby, so Zeba would not be too far from her family and, at the insistence of Zeba’s father, Jamshid’s family agreed to wait for the wedding until after his daughter’s college graduation.
With the match finalized, the engagement party – another often extravagant affair, but this time paid for by the bride’s family - was set to occur two months later. Meanwhile, dowry negotiations began. Jamshid’s mother proposed a $5,000 dowry, countered by Zeba’s mother with $17,000. The two eventually settled on $10,000, $1,000 higher than the dowry Zeba’s cousin received.

“My daughter is beautiful and is graduating from college. I can’t have her go for less than my niece who barely finished high school. We have spent a lot of money on her and we cannot afford a dowry any less than this,” Zeba’s mother explained.

The bride price sparked competition between Zeba’s mother and aunt. Whose daughter was worth more? Zeba’s mother won the battle this round, but kept in mind that Zeba’s dowry set the precedent for future daughters. Zeba’s mother believed the dowry was equivalent to a daughter’s public worth and her family’s reputation. It was also a practical matter. Zeba’s family, severely in debt from her older brother’s marriage ceremony two years earlier, needed the income a dowry provided, and started planning for their youngest daughter to marry soon as well. Saddled with the costs of the wedding and the remaining dowry balance, the transferred wedding dues now put Jamshid’s family in debt, too.

As the $22,000 cost of Jamshid’s wedding illustrates, society’s expectations of families in Afghan’s urban centers to throw extravagant weddings they cannot afford cause a disconnect between capacity and reality. Despite the fact that his family earns a few hundred dollars each month, Jamshid’s family and many others in a similar financial situation are expected to book wedding halls that accommodate hundreds of guests. Whispers of shame circulate if anyone fails to receive an invitation. Newlyweds’ fathers feel little agency, keeping the doors open and feeding whoever arrives with a smile.

Afghan women.  Photo Credit:  Guardian UK


Mahr Mistintrepreted: Tensions Between Governmental Control and Cultural Practice in Afghanistan

Article 14 of Afghanistan’s 1971 Law on Marriage introduces mahr as a requirement for a valid Muslim marriage. In the next article, it states that the relatives of the bride may not “ask or receive under any title any cash or goods from the groom or his relatives. If such an act is done, those who commit it shall be pursued and punished according to the provisions of law.”

In accordance with Shari‘a, which mandates a mahr as a prerequisite to marriage, the Government of Afghanistan requires that any registered and legally recognized marriage include a nekah nama (marriage contract) that has an explicit mahr, an amount of money or other property given from the groom directly to the bride for her exclusive use. However, while Afghanistan’s civil code makes several references to a bride’s exclusive right to a mahr, customary practice often replaces the mahr with a dowry given to the bride’s family. This transaction is called walwar in Pashto, qalin in Uzbeki, and shirbaha, or toyaana, in Dari, which translates as a “price” for a woman for marriage.

On the ground, weddings generally remain outside of the government’s control and oversight. In practice, Afghan civil law often fails to enforce its own legal requirements pertaining to marriage, simultaneously contributing to non-adherence to Islamic law. In fact, families are often unaware of the Islamic requirements for marriage. A mahr, a clear stipulation for Muslim marriages, is often misinterpreted or wholly ignored between negotiating families.

The mahr is meant to serve as a safety net for a woman, giving her the freedom to provide for herself if needed, not as a dowry or bride price, given to the bride’s family as payment in exchange for raising her. She is supposed to have sole ownership of the mahr, and the full authority to use it as she wishes. She is also the only person who can forgive the mahr, deciding for herself if she does not want a mahr or its full payment.

Dowry does not exist in Islam. The interpretation of mahr as a dowry is a purely cultural practice that is not rooted in Shari‘a. Nevertheless, in Afghanistan, a mahr rarely makes it into the hands of the bride herself.

Another obstacle to enforcement of legal marriage proceedings in Afghanistan is that few Afghan couples formally register their weddings, as there is little incentive to proceed through the difficult task of formal marriage registration. Registration is a multi-step process that requires the police and local village leaders’ written confirmations that the marriage was not forced or arranged for a child, and the production of valid identification documents for both the bride and groom. In most cases, women do not possess the state-issued credentials needed to register a marriage. Consequently, couples do not fulfill the basic requirements of the registration procedure. In 2012, fewer than 700 marriages were registered in Kabul, despite a population size in the millions.

In Afghanistan, even among educated families, the lack of awareness about the meaning of mahr remains an obstacle. Zeba, for instance, believed that Shari‘a required a mahr to be paid to her family. For the majority of women in Afghanistan they have never even heard of a mahr, leaving many brides without this Islamic-sanctioned protective measure.

Not being aware of the bride’s right to a mahr, a young wife is vulnerable. Out of her father’s home and into her husband’s home, she often possesses few non-social resources. She likely does not hold a job or have any private income, and remains entirely dependent upon her husband for her sustenance. While it is a husband’s Islamic duty to care for and respect his wife, this duty is not always fulfilled. Wives are sometimes neglected. Other times they are abused. And sometimes, despite a husband’s best efforts, in cities with high unemployment and underemployment, he cannot earn enough to provide for her.

A woman’s possession of her mahr offers short-term financial security to pursue her own interests. For example, she could pay her own tuition and return to school, or she could invest in a business. In the event of the dissolution of her marriage, mahr could offer a woman the chance to consider living on her own with her family or, if not a sufficient amount, as is likely the case, it could at least provide her some financial independence and give her time to find a way to increase her holdings. While the mahr cannot be considered welfare, nor is it a monthly paycheck, it gives an Afghan bride that little bit of legroom so she can attempt to build something for herself.

The Need for Awareness: An Extreme Case

One young woman living about 10 kilometers north of Kabul city sat outside repairing the buttons on her father’s shirt as we waited for her younger sister to bring us lunch. “I got married when I was 16 years old, and I was very excited. But, when I moved in with him, he and his family beat me,” she said. “He humiliated me and treated me horribly, sending me to the hospital with a broken leg and blood loss. I could not breathe those days.”

It was not until three years later, at the age of 19 that Fahima fled to her parents’ home, pleading for a divorce. Her family was devastated. Fahima’s mother said, “We had no idea that this was her life for three years. She came to us so broken. I had only seen her once during that time until she came to us crying.”

Fahima soon divorced and returned to the safety of her childhood home. She was unable to find a job and her family’s financial constraints tempted them to find another match for her against her wishes.
“I can’t do anything. I can’t go to school or work, so I just have to sit here. I should get married, I think, but I don’t want to,” Fahima said, carefully putting each thread through the button’s hole.
At the time of her marriage, a small dowry of $150 was given to Fahima’s father for his daughter’s hand. Her father borrowed the same amount three years later to pay his son-in-law’s family for a divorce. Fahima was given no mahr herself and left her marriage empty-handed with an unemployed father, now in debt. Her options were slim. A second marriage and another dowry for her family seemed likely.

Fahima is now engaged to a 45-year-old man with four children from a previous marriage. She has high hopes for her next marriage and the ceremony will take place this spring. Of course, when Fahima’s family receives a second dowry for her hand in marriage, the mahr will remain with her parents. Should the marriage share a similar fate to her first, Fahima will find herself in the same compromised position that followed the end of her previous marriage.

Afghan women.  Photo Credit:  CBC.ca

What Lies – And What Should Lie - Ahead

The government, legal, and religious leaders should aim to spread awareness of a bride’s right to mahr, as required by Islam, and launch a government-sponsored campaign to increase the percentage of formally registered marriages. Registration can be used as a tool to track and mandate mahr for Afghan women. If the process is streamlined to provide incentives for registration while maintaining the necessary checks on the legality of the marriage, then more couples are likely to register their marriages in accordance with state and Islamic legal requirements. This state-based advocacy, if successful, could also address the issue of high wedding costs by spreading awareness of its negative consequences and encourage families to take a more affordable path.

Legal advocacy groups as well as women’s rights groups should cooperate with the government in launching these awareness campaigns and streamlining the marriage registration system.
While marriages are often successful – Zeba and Jamshid are both married happily and expecting their first child in three months – Afghan women still need the protective measure mahr offers them. A person, after all, can only speak so loudly and be heard so often, when she is dependent on another person for something as basic as food.

Shahla Naimi lives in Afghanistan where she studies the development of legal systems, with a focus on frameworks in Muslim-majority countries (Afghanistan, Egypt and Morocco), as well as international and domestic refugee laws.  Her interests remain on methods of Islamic jurisprudence (fiqh) and legal reasoning (‘aql), considering – from an anthropological perspective – how laws can be interpreted and enforced. She has traveled extensively throughout the Middle East and Central Asia.

Tuesday, March 5, 2013

Images from the Red Sea

Durrat Al Aroos Marina, north of Jeddah


Colorful gems of the Red Sea

The native Osprey, also known as Sea Hawk


Durrat Al Aroos Marina, north of Jeddah


Sea urchin


Durrat Al Aroos Marina, north of Jeddah

A colorful Red Sea starfish


Durrat Al Aroos Marina, north of Jeddah


Baby Osprey, also known as Sea Hawk, native to Saudi Arabia


Durrat Al Aroos Marina, north of Jeddah

Amusing misspelled signs indicating separate gates for men and women - no one obeys them

Colorful clams

Playful dolphins


Uninhabited island north of Jeddah

Red and orange sea spider


Baby Osprey chicks, also known as Sea Hawk, native to Saudi Arabia


Peaceful uninhabited island

Neon green fish of the Red Sea


Shades of blue of the Red Sea

Baby Osprey, also known as Sea Hawk, native to Saudi Arabia

Sand art on the beach, created by sea creatures

Catch of the day


Sea gulls


Colorful fish and coral of the Red Sea

Uninhabited island north of Jeddah


Before you get too excited, just know that I had a little fun with Photoshop on this one!

Many thanks to Trina Epsom for allowing me to share her beautiful underwater shots in this post!

Sunday, March 3, 2013

The Dangerous & Crazy Streets of Jeddah


In traffic fatalities, Saudi Arabia ranks among the worst in the world.  Other countries in the Middle East and Africa dominate nearly all the top (worst) slots in these rankings.   I have driven since I was 16 and have many years of safe driving experience.  Yet here in Saudi Arabia, because I don’t have a little appendage between my legs, I am prohibited from driving.  But pint-sized boys, some of whom aren’t even out of grade school, and irresponsible reckless youth are allowed to get behind the wheel on the streets of Jeddah.  In fact, many of these young boy drivers who are too young to legally obtain a driver's license are actually given the task of driving the females of the family around the city to go shopping or to school, putting everyone in the car in danger as well as pedestrians and people in other cars.

A young boy navigates the streets of Jeddah while driving a big SUV.

I rarely see anyone in Saudi Arabia buckled up - especially not children, who hang out the cars windows or sun roofs.  I’ve seen many dads driving with little babies sitting on their laps or moms in the front seat holding babies on their laps.  Infant car seats are rarely used, despite the highly questionable claim I read recently in a Saudi Gazette article that only "40% of Saudi families say they do not use child safety seats."  The real number is probably more like 90%. 
A common sight in Jeddah: children sitting on driver's lap or jutting out the sun roof (Photo Credit: M. Eldaly)


The growth of Jeddah has been nothing short of astounding, to say the least.  In the span of just 50 short years, the population exploded from about 50,000 to over 4 million.  This phenomenal pace of growth has not come without its problems however.   Street planning which may have seemed visionary back in the 1960s has proven to be disastrous in accommodating the millions of cars on Jeddah’s roads every day.  And because of the long narrow shape of the city’s layout itself, getting from north to south or vice versa can take hours at peak travel times.  

In the past few years, many of Jeddah's roads have undergone major changes.  Many streets are currently under construction as the municipality dismantles the huge roundabouts which have dominated many of the biggest intersections of the city, replacing them with more efficient overpasses.   These roundabouts – many with four lanes of bumper to bumper traffic - have proven to be a terrible idea in a large city where traffic enforcement is lacking and common driving courtesy is non-existent.   Another problem is that many inexperienced foreign male drivers are brought in to the kingdom to chauffeur around the crippled half of Saudi Arabia's entire population - females who are restricted by law from driving.   I admit that I am trying to be optimistic about the removal of the roundabouts and view it as a necessary step in preparing the city for women drivers.   
The road networking of Jeddah seems to have been purposely designed to make it very difficult for drivers to get from Point A to Point B which results in vehicles taking much longer to get to their destinations, producing congested traffic conditions.   Oftentimes there is no access from one major road intersecting with another major road – sounds crazy, but it’s true.  

Crazy traffic congestion in Jeddah.
Just south and east  of the Mall of Arabia lies a huge juncture where at least 12 different lanes of traffic intersect with each other.  Believe it or not, this intersection is a free-for-all.  Traffic lights are installed at the intersection, but incredibly I have never seen them working - not once! 


One baffling traffic idea that plagues this city is the installation of service roads on many of the larger streets.   Service roads may be a good idea for freeways, but for major streets within busy cities like Jeddah, it's a nightmare.  I just don’t see the need for traffic islands that separate several lanes of traffic headed in the same direction.   Trying to enter or leave the service roads in hectic traffic conditions can be a harrowing experience, since there are not separate access ways to enter or exit.   This means that through the same opening in the island, cars are both entering and leaving the service road from or to a busy main street.   It’s madness.
Many times these service roads are not readily accessible and are easily missed.  This means that many vehicles miss their turnoffs and sometimes have to go many kilometers further in order to get back to where they were going because quite often there is no easy way to turn around.   As a result, traffic becomes heavily congested because it takes so much longer to reach destinations. 
   
From one day to the next, traffic lanes, exits, and entrances are blocked off with huge cement barriers that weren't there the day before.  Every day I see cars driving on the wrong side of the road, mainly because even many smaller streets have dividers with no access to turn around for sometimes several kilometers.  
Cars drive on the wrong side of the streets of Jeddah because center islands have few breaks in which to turn or turn around.
Some exits are not clearly marked either, which confuses drivers.  Many of the exit signs from major roads merely say something like “Corniche” (even though it’s miles from the Corniche) instead of the name of the street and whether it heads north, south, east or west, which is always useful when driving.  


Parking here in Jeddah is always a problem.  It seems to be an after-thought with the many newly constructed buildings, not to mention the old ones.  It is not uncommon to see vehicles double parked or even triple parked in front of businesses or sometimes just parked in the middle of the streets blocking traffic.   Adding to the parking problems are the hundreds of disabled and abandoned vehicles covered in dust that are parked all over the city.

Disabled cars are abandoned all over the streets of Jeddah.
I have seen cars literally drive over the center dividers to turn around.  I have even seen men destroy a section of the divider island to make a place to turn because there is none.  Every day at red lights, I see cars drive up onto the sidewalks on the right side of traffic, endangering pedestrians, so they can position their car in front of the first cars in the lanes of traffic stopped at the red lights.   Drivers here frequently pay no attention to traffic lanes and it’s not unusual to see four lanes of traffic somehow turned into five or six.

One day recently within just five minutes on the road, I witnessed two separate violent incidents of road rage.  First a man on foot in a white thobe carrying a large heavy rod approached and attacked a huge truck stopped on the side of the road.  The man smashed the windows of the truck, dented in the body of the truck, and broke off the rear view mirror.  He tried to open the driver's door but luckily it was locked.  The poor scared driver of the truck slowly moved the truck forward to try to escape the mad man.  Not two minutes later a little further down the same road, I saw two more men in Saudi dress standing outside their vehicles on the side of the road.  They were screaming at each other and then starting pushing and punching one another. 

This out of control man attacked this large truck on Siteen Street in Jeddah, smashing the windows with a large bat.
Traffic rules in Saudi Arabia must be enforced.  The people must be educated about courtesy and safety measures they should take for themselves and their children.  And women need to be allowed to get drivers' licenses and drive.  There is just WAY too much testosterone on the streets of Jeddah!