Saudi Weddings

I know you will enjoy reading these three posts by fellow bloggers Qusay, Nidal M, and Layla, who explain in detail about weddings in Saudi Arabia. Men and women in Saudi Arabia generally have gender segregated weddings, with separate events for men and women. Unfortunately you will never see what the woman's side of the wedding ever looks like. While Saudi women dress to the nines when they attend weddings, cameras are generally not allowed because the women inside are not properly covered. But trust me, the Saudi women go all out with expensive sexy ballgowns, heavy makeup, and glittering shoes and jewelry.

Qusay's post, called "Saudi Arabia Jeddah Weddings," talks about the wedding process and traditions, and also has a link to a wonderful wedding video (men only, of course) which features the music, the dancing, the joy, and a very handsome groom.

Nidal M's post, "Weddings in Saudi Arabia," has fabulous photos along with his charming commentary from various weddings he has photographed. You will be delighted when you view his photos. You'll gain an insight into a world that very few outsiders ever get the chance to see.

Layla of Blue Abaya recently wrote a very engaging, entertaining, and endearing minute-by-minute post about her first huge Saudi Wedding Extravaganza. I found myself laughing out loud at some of her descriptions of the evening's events.

I wrote a post quite a while ago describing "My 1st Saudi Wedding" I ever attended here. Of course, no two weddings are ever the same. Each one has its own uniqueness that the bride wishes to include in her special day.

Enjoy!

Jeddah's Il Villaggio Restaurant Presents Its Mediterranean Festival

WIN a FABULOUS DINNER FOR TWO in Jeddah at Il Villaggio Restaurant! (transportation not included)

Il Villaggio Restaurant celebrates the 150th anniversary of the unification of Italy with a Mediterranean Festival featuring the iconic ingredients used in traditional Italian dishes. The festival takes place March 14th through March 17th in Jeddah.

"Sample a menu with ingredients which have been used for a very long time in traditional recipes and are still among the all time favorites today. Taste heritage by indulging in authentic dishes which have their origin in different parts of Italy. Experience a true Italian Menu. Learn through food the history and events what created Italy 150 years ago and made Italy what it is today!

This menu will be served from 14th March to 17th March in the Luigi Restaurant at Il Villaggio Restaurants & Lounges. In addition we also offer cooking lessons with insights about the history of Italian food during the same period.

If you like to reserve a table or want to inquire and receive more details, please contact us by email: agm@ilvillaggio-complex.net or telephone 02-668-8233.

We will be happy to welcome you and your family, friends or colleagues during this special week at the restaurant or any time."

From the Management of Il Villaggio Restaurant & Lounges, Al Andalus Street, Jeddah - Telephone 02-668-8233

For a chance to WIN A DINNER FOR TWO at Il Villaggio Restaurant, LEAVE A COMMENT ON THIS POST telling me what your FAVORITE ITALIAN DISH is. Be sure to include your NAME and EMAIL ADDRESS. ACT QUICKLY! The deadline for entering is MARCH 13. Two lucky winners will be announced very soon.

Go to Il Villaggio's Facebook page.

To RSVP to the Mediterranean Festival Event, or to view the Sample Menu, CLICK HERE.

For more info, check out their website at www.mediterraneans.me

Here is a quick video tour of the restaurant interior by the MadTraveller:

Is There Halloween in Saudi Arabia?

For the vast majority of the country, the answer to that question would have to be NO! Halloween would be seen as having evil roots, the work of the devil, plus the fact that frivilous and fun activities seem to be forbidden or at least frowned upon here. Western holidays are not celebrated, and there are only two holidays recognized here at all - and both of them, not surprisingly, are religious. I haven't actually heard or read that Halloween is technically banned here though, not like Valentine's Day is - which I have written about before.

I'm sure there are Halloween parties and possibly even trick-or-treating within the confines of the residential compounds for foreign workers here. And until this year, I didn't think it was a holiday that was celebrated among Saudis. But it seems that through the wonders of the internet, some Saudis have learned about Halloween and want to dress up in costumes, celebrate, and have their own parties.

I was recently invited to tag along with H (one of my SIL's) to a party at her relative's house, but I had no idea it was going to be a costume party until H and her 6-year-old son got into our car and I saw that the boy was dressed up in a Sponge Bob costume. When we arrived at the party, the villa's gates were decorated with spider webs, witches, pumpkins, and big spiders, and inside there were balloons, bats, and ghosts and other elaborate orange and black Halloween decorations.

The party guests were mostly fun-loving teenage girls and a few were younger, about 30 in all. There were also maybe three little boys, under age 10. They were dressed up in costumes from princesses to punk rockers to puppies. One of my favorites was a girl of about 10 dressed up like a Saudi man in the white thobe and red and white checkered scarf - she had a black beard and moustache painted onto her face plus her eyebrows were heavily painted into a big unibrow. I thought she was adorable.

But the absolute best costume was worn by my hilarious SIL H. After we arrived, she went into the bathroom to change. She put on a loose pink housedress with big brown polka dots all over it and wrapped her head up in a white scarf. Then she put on these thick Coke bottle glasses with round black plastic frames, gnarly rotten fake teeth protruded from her mouth, and she had tucked large bulbous sprigs of some type of fragrant green herb into the arms of the eyeglasses which stuck out on each side of her head - apparently this is something traditional that old Yemenese women do to smell good, but it looks rather odd. As the finishing touch, she added a huge balloon under the skirt of her dress in the back - it was one of the funniest costumes I have ever seen.

There was a female DJ who played dance music ranging from Western hip hop to current Middle Eastern hits and the girls had a blast dancing in the large living room turned into a dance floor where the furniture had been mostly removed. The adult women spent most of the time upstairs chatting and laughing and smoking sheesha. I was asked about Halloween traditions so I told them everything I could think of. Next year I'm going to make them a Haunted House and have them bobbing for apples!

On Being Normal

S ince I moved here to Saudi Arabia from America in October 2007, my life has changed dramatically. There are so many things about day to day life that just don't seem normal to me any more. What is normal? Normal is what you are used to, what feels natural and looks right, the constants in life.


The lack of social interaction between men and women is one of the hardest things for me to get used to. When we go to the market and I say thank you or hello to the salesclerk or even just nod my head with a smile, my husband always tells me that I am not obliged to speak to them. Now, he's not demanding that I not to speak to them, just reminding me that women in this society don't interact that way with men. At many doctor's offices or health clinics, there are even separate waiting rooms for men and women, so no inappropriate behavior will occur. Now, I've been in many doctor's waiting rooms in my lifetime, and I must admit that I have never seen or experienced anything untoward happening in a doctor's waiting room, so I really don't get this separation of the sexes. Anyway, I hate going because I'm stuck sitting there all by myself while at least my son and husband have each other. There are separate women's banks and single men sections at restaurants. Even at many family functions, the men and women sit and eat separately. Sometimes we arrive together, and I'm instantly directed one way while my son and husband go another, and I don't see them for hours until someone comes to tell me that my husband is ready to go. I don't know if I will ever be able to consider this as normal. I haven't been to a mixed wedding here yet - only women have been at the weddings I've attended. And you should see the sexy gowns and the wild make-up and the glitzy shoes worn by all the women attendees - who are all dolled up so other women can see them and they can size each other up.

When I'm in the privacy of my own home, and a workman or my brother-in-law comes over, I am expected to run out of the room so he doesn't see my hair, my legs, or my arms. Unless I'm just out of the shower and standing there dripping with a towel wrapped around me, my mind just doesn't think that way. So I can either stay hidden away in my bedroom, or I can come back out, as long as I have made sure that I have clothing covering every part of me except my hands and face. I've been places where my nieces freak out in such a situation that they grab a pillow to hide their heads or duck for cover under whatever they can find. All because a man enters the room. To me, it's just no big deal for a man to see my hair, but here, freaking out over it is normal.

Not allowing women to drive here is another thing that is just so abnormal to me. I've got forty years of driving experience, an excellent driving record, and I cannot drive in this country. I have to be driven by a man to go anywhere here. I always drove my son to and from school every day, drove myself to work, or to the movies or to the mall, but here I cannot drive. First thing in the morning when my husband drives our son to school, it's a very rare day when I even see another woman walking out on the street or riding in another car. Usually all I ever see are just men everywhere out and about. Makes me feel like an endangered species!

In stores, restaurants, malls, and most other businesses, there are no female employees at all. Well, I take that back - there are some women janitors who clean the ladies restrooms in some of the malls. But there are no women saleclerks, or waitresses, or women chefs, or women store managers. None. And I'm used to stores, elevators and restaurants having piped-in music - but not here. I just can't get beyond the fact that these things strike me as odd. It's not normal to me. But here, it's perfectly normal. Will I ever get used to this kind of normal?

Of course, having to don the long black cloak (called abaya) in this brutal heat feels very abnormal to me too. And making sure not one hair on my head peeks out from under the scarf I have to wrap around my head and neck before I step out the door to go anywhere will never feel normal to me. After all, I didn't move here until I was in my mid-50s, having lived scarfless in the US all my life. I've always liked the look of the colorful scarves I sometimes saw ladies wearing back home, but personally I just always found them stifling, so I never wore them. But here, I have to wear scarves, even though I hate them. Let me think: in my previous life, did I ever wear things that I hated to wear? Well, I can think of two bridesmaids dresses that I wasn't particularly fond of, but those were just a one day deal... so I don't think those should count if they were only a one day deal.

Another thing that strikes me as not normal is how the vast majority of the men always wear white when out in public and most of the women always wear black. It is literally a black and white society. Is there any other society on earth that is so conformist in what its people wear, with so few alternatives, so little room for being different or expressing individuality, and so lacking in color variations? Ok, sure - the abayas come with different fancy trims, and maybe some have pleated sleeves or lace, or other subtle distinctions. But even at that, the fact remains that the abayas are mostly all black. I come from a place where people could basically wear whatever they want, full of colors and choices, and dress suitably for the weather. Of course there are those few who push the envelope on bad taste. But for the most part, people in the West dress responsibly, and while maybe not as modest as the dress here, most people dress decently, comfortably and appropriately. I don't find the abaya or the scarf comfortable to wear, especially in the hot months - which is most of the year here. So I don't think I'll ever feel that dressing this way is normal.

I'm not saying that this country is wrong or bad for these things that I don't consider normal to me. I'm just saying that these things don't feel normal to me because I am used to things being a different way, that's all. What's considered normal here isn't what's normal for me. And it feels weird. These are just some of the things that make me wonder if I will ever consider these things normal. There are some days now when I secretly wish that my husband was from almost any other country in the world besides here - because life here just doesn't feel normal to me. I miss feeling normal...

Hair Do or Hair Don't?

Yesterday our family was invited for dinner to the home of a Lebanese family whose son is friends with our son Adam. They live in a residential compound where women can walk around the grounds without an abaya or having to cover their hair. I was very excited because I would get to meet the boy's mom (a new potential friend - yay!), plus another couple from South Africa. I had already met the South African lady through my blog and I was looking forward to seeing her again. I made a salad to take with us as our contribution for the meal, took a shower, and got dressed.


About an hour before we left the house, I told my husband that there was a possibility that both of the other women we would be visiting with that evening may not have their hair covered. If that was the case, I went on, I would prefer not to be the only woman there with my hair covered. Well, basically my hubby told me that if I wanted to uncover my hair there, that he would not be going with us. So I had two choices: (A) I could agree to keep my hair covered and have him be there with us; or (B) I could uncover my hair and make up some lame excuse for why he suddenly wasn't able to come with us.

The arguments for his position included that we are in Saudi Arabia, it is a Muslim country, and that Allah requires women to cover their hair. He feels now that a woman's beauty, including her hair, should be revealed only to her husband. He says that he is a Muslim man and his wife should cover and he should be respected by everyone else for feeling that way. I, as his wife, should obey and please my husband, and to a certain extent I agree, but what about MY feelings and my comfort?

My hubby does not regularly read my blog, but he has seen it. A photo of me showing my hair for the entire world to see is posted on my blog, and he has not asked me to remove it. What is the difference, then, if I uncover my hair in a private setting with two other non-Saudi couples present? And, if the other women at this dinner party weren't covered, why must I? I told my hubby that I like to feel good about myself and I honestly feel ugly wearing the hijab (head and neck covering). I feel plain and invisible and I don't like feeling that way. I find it uncomfortable and it makes me hot. It makes my neck itch. I know that there are many Muslim women out there who feel beautiful wearing the hijab, but I personally don't. I know that there are many Muslim women out there who feel empowered wearing the hijab and the abaya, but I feel the opposite way. I know also that there are many Western women married to Saudis who love to cover and may even veil, but I’m not one of them. Do I resent them or fault them for it? No! If it suits them and they like it, good for them. It's just not my thing.

There are many Muslim women around the world who do NOT cover their hair and do not wear a black abaya. So definitely, this is a cultural issue here. But the problem for me lies in the fact that ALL the reasons I’ve ever been given for WHY women have to dress like that here ARE religious! To me this boils down to man’s interpretations on imposing THEIR personal beliefs on women. I have asked my husband many times to show me any passages where Allah has instructed that women specifically must cover their hair and neck or dress up like a nun, and he has yet to show me anything. I believe that all religions here on earth are manmade and this is the root of my problems with religions. Since religions are made by man, as a woman I have a problem especially with those teachings in religions that seem to be directed only to women and are not applied equally to men. For example in Islam, how women should dress, how women should act (lowering our gaze, not letting other men hear our voices), and that men are allowed four wives, etc. I find these religious rules unfair to women. I am not putting anyone down for believing whole-heartedly in these values. I just don’t buy into it myself. Honestly I wouldn’t have a problem with it if these rules were applied equally to men.

All my life before we moved here I was fine without shielding my hair from men – over 50 years – and I don’t recall having any problems from men because of my hair. So I asked hubby why he didn't make an issue out of me not covering my hair for the 30 years we spent together in the states? His answer was that he was stupid then! If it’s because he didn’t want other men seeing my “beauty,” I could better understand that if I were still younger, cuter, and thinner. But the truth is, I just don’t FEEL as attractive as I once did – let’s face it – I’m pushing 60! Covering now at this point in my life when I didn’t when I WAS cute blows that "beauty theory" out the window as far as I’m concerned. It makes no sense to me.

You'll be glad if you click on the links below to check out some other really interesting posts about Islamic women’s dress that have cropped up recently by some of my favorite fellow bloggers. There are also some amazing photos, interesting history, and great comments too. Don't miss these must-see posts:

Aafke of Clouddragon entertains with a post called "Women, Dress, Undress and Religions."

American Bedu pens a provocative post titled "Saudi Arabia – I Dared to Go Out Without An Abaya."

And Achelois looks at history in her post called "Uniforming the Muslim Woman."

Also check out Saudi Woman's post about "Confiscated Abayas!"

Oh, and FYI, Adam and I went to the dinner party WITH my husband, and I wore the hijab the whole time. The other two women did not cover their hair. My husband and I set aside our differences and we all had a lovely time. The food was fantastic and our new friends were delightful. But deep down inside, I was not happy about having to wear the hijab!

In Search of ... Turkey!

M y husband took me out in search of a turkey for Thanksgiving since I had been very disappointed that we hadn't had one the year before, shortly after I first arrived in Saudi Arabia.


First we went to an enormous brand new immaculate and stunning super market with the widest aisles I have ever seen. Surely they must have a turkey here. After checking the fresh meat department and the frozen section, my husband decided to ask an employee - who was cleaning the floor of this spic-and-span establishment and who apparently spoke neither Arabic nor English - if he knew where the turkey (in English) or "deek roomy" (turkey in Arabic) might be. The guy happily pointed us over to the Bakery Department (!?!), saying, "Turkey! Turkey!" Miffed, we walked over to the Bakery Department where we were greeted by the Manager of the Bakery, whose name badge introduced him to us as "Mr. Al-Turki."

The second huge super market we tried to find turkey in did actually have turkey, but it was precooked ready to eat deli turkey in those huge rolls that you can have the butcher slice off a kilo or two for you to take home and make sandwiches out of. Well, I'd really rather have a real turkey, but I guess this would do if we couldn't find anything else ...

The third place we went to is also a fancy super store - they call them "hyper markets" here. In the frozen section in the far corner of one of the chests tucked away between some frozen ducks was a single 4.11 kg frozen turkey! Yay! At this store, we also got the fixings for a homemade pumpkin pie and my famous jellied cranberry salad with celery, pineapple and walnuts.

Adam and I were so happy to have the traditional Thanksgiving meal, complete with mashed potatoes and gravy and stuffing. It was quite a mission finding a turkey in a country where many of the natives I have talked to about it claim to not LIKE the taste of turkey. The funny thing is that in the months following, we have seen several stores with an abundant supply of frozen turkeys! Next holiday, we'll get an earlier start ...

Like a Sister

M y sister-in-law H is really good about including me in her plans. Spunky H is married to one of Adnan's brothers. She drags me along to most of her activities, like weddings, her family's get togethers, shopping, and other outings. And I must admit I am always eager to go with her because I always have such a good time. I have met most of the women in her extended family, and I find them to be warm, gracious, and oftentimes hilarious. H is very generous with me, constantly bestowing gifts on me and my son Adam.

H comes from an extremely large, wealthy, and well known family here in Jeddah. Her prolific grandfather, the patriarch of the family, had a total of nineteen wives! Not all at once, of course, but as Islam allows, four wives at any one given time. I don't remember the exact count of the number of children he had, but, as you can imagine, it was in the hundreds.

I was astonished one day when H showed me an actual leather bound published book that featured all the male members of the family. Page after page of the various branches of the family as was determined by each of the wives. Page after page of the male offspring of this man, and the offspring of the offspring, each with a photo and a little bio. It was written in Arabic and H explained little tidbits to me as we paged through the book. She knew some of the branches of the family, but not all. Suffice it to say, her actual family count numbers in the thousands.

Recently I accompanied H to a casual family women-only gathering at one of her aunt's homes. It was a beautiful walled villa that housed her aunt on the first floor, and two of her daughters and their families on the 2nd and 3rd floors. Just inside the large foyer, off to one side, there was an elevator. There is always a large mirror and a powder room at the entryway. A table under the mirror is equipped with mints, perfume, a brush, toothpicks, and other useful things of this nature.

In all there were probably about twenty-five women there all together. Many of the ladies there were H's aunts, cousins, or in-laws. At gatherings of this type, the women sit and talk in a large family room. As a new arrival enters the room, she starts to her right and proceeds to greet each woman who is already there by grasping her hands and kissing her cheeks several times while inquiring as to her well being.

The dress for events such as this I would describe as elegantly casual, with the older women usually opting for the traditional long dresses and the younger women wearing more trendy and sexy numbers. Most of the women wear makeup and jewelry too. They were a lively group. More than once the whole room erupted in waves of laughter.

During the hour or so before dinner was served, the hostesses kept coming around with small elegant cups of gahwa (the traditional "coffee"), a variety of juices, and an assortment of baklava, chocolates, and cookies. There was quite a feast in store for the guests, including a yummy seafood dish in a garlic sauce, chicken, stuffed grape leaves, kebabs, sambuseks (stuffed meat pastries), tabouleh, an amazing rice dish, hummus, and a pasta dish in bechamel sauce, and for dessert, rice pudding, flan, and cake.

While we sat there enjoying the evening, I thought I would try to pay H a discreet compliment by telling her that I thought she looked a lot like her beautiful aunt with black hair who was wearing the pretty turquoise blue dress and sat across the room from us. I almost fell off my chair when to my surprise, I heard H say to me under her breath, "I hate her - pick another one!"

One thing I like about hanging out with H is that I never know what to expect from her...

Weekend Getaway on the Red Sea

L ast month we took a lovely weekend getaway out of town for my birthday, for three days and two nights, in a beautiful resort on the Red Sea north of Jeddah in an area called Obhur. (Weekends here in Saudi Arabia fall on Thursday and Friday). Our villa had one king bedroom, two other bedrooms with two twin beds in each, and included three baths, a full kitchen, dining room and a living room, plus a large patio area. It was nicely appointed and quite comfortable for our party, which included our little family of three and my hubby's brother and his wife H and their pre-schooler son Moe.




The first evening, my sister-in-law H's family came for dinner. There were about 60 people who came altogether, no kidding! H has six siblings who came, plus all the spouses and children, plus their maids, plus a cousin also showed up with her family. Her family is a bit more progressive than some, so men and women were not segregated - YAY! The women mostly wore skirts or pant sets in bright colors like lime, fuschia, turquoise, or purple with coordinated head scarves. The dinner was catered and consisted of four huge platters of chicken, beef and lamb kebabs on a large bed of rice and pita. Yummy!

Outside in the parking lot, a couple of men had set up a large barbeque on a eight foot long hand-turned rotisseries. On the lengthy rods hung two lambs and several chickens. The two men sat sweating in the sweltering night air, rotating the spits over the glowing coal for four hours. This feast was specially ordered by some guests at the resort for the evening.



Many of us went out for a stroll after the meal into the warm and humid evening air. The grounds of this place are beautiful, with bouganvillea of many colors, lit up palm trees, swimming pools including a separate and isolated pool for women only, an amusement area for kids, a sandy beach, outdoor cafes and gift shops, and a huge dock which housed dozens of incredible yachts.



One of H's brothers brought his decent sized touring boat and he offered to take us all for a midnight boat ride around the Obhur area. There were so many of us who wanted to go that he had to take two separate groups. The first group was pretty much all women and the second group consisted of the younger people. A few of the women in my group even removed their head scarves on the boat ride to enjoy the wind blowing through their hair! Everyone was smiling and laughing and really enjoying themselves.



Adam opted out of the boat ride in favor of playing pool with two other teenage boys in our group - at the clubhouse where women are not allowed. The clubhouse also offered ping pong, cards, pinball machines, and computer games.



The second day at the resort was relaxing and lazy. We walked around a bit but the heat was stifling, so mostly we just lounged around. While we were out on the dock, a large stingray swam right below where we were! Unfortunately I couldn't whip my camera out in time to snap a picture of it! But I got plenty of other photos of the beautiful lush grounds, the shimmering turquoise water, the abundant boats, and the playful jet skiers.



On the third day, more family came again for a luncheon of a fresh catch of fish. After lunch, most of the women and the children walked down to the sandy beach and the beckoning azure Red Sea. The kids relished swimming and building sand castles, while the women mostly sat in the shade on beach chairs, some of them occasionally venturing into the sea to wade up to their knees.



Signs were posted which forbade women from swimming in swimsuits.



Complying with this rule, I did see two women in the water - one was dressed in her black abaya and head scarf, and the other one wore a long sleeved, long legged loose spandex suit topped with a loose knee length top cover. Other women sat on the beach in their abayas, while men freely roamed the beach and ventured into the sea wearing only swim trunks.



By late afternoon it was time for us to head back to reality.

How I Met My Prince

I t was the fall of 1977 as I skipped down the stairs into the basement of the Student Union. The semester had just begun and I was one of thousands of students at the busy beehive of higher education called the University of Arizona in Tucson. Already in my mid-20s, I was making a career change from law enforcement to journalism. While taking a full course load, I had also landed a part-time job right there on campus to help pay for my living expenses – working in the games room, where many students killed time in between classes to meet friends, release tension, socialize, and have some fun. My job there entailed overseeing about 50 pool tables, several dozen pin ball machines, and other games that students could rent out. It was really convenient and easy for me to attend classes and then just walk over to another building right there on campus for my four hour shift working in the Student Union several days a week. Not knowing many people there either, the job gave me a way of meeting new students and making friends.

The afternoon shifts were usually extremely busy. On those days, the time would pass by very quickly, and sometimes it was such a madhouse, I could hardly wait to get out of there. The evening shifts were usually much slower and quieter, giving me a chance to do my homework if I was lucky. Many of the students who came into the games room were foreign students, and I couldn’t help but notice that a large percentage of them were young Middle Eastern men. They had wierd and wonderful sounding names that I had never heard before and some of them had thick accents that were very difficult for me to understand. Many of them were short in stature with small scrawny frames and dressed in tidy polyester dress shirts and pants. Definitely not my type. I always went for guys with solid frames who were at least as tall as me and weighed more than me. However, coming from a small town on the Mexican border and with no previous exposure to Arab men at all, I was intrigued. I found most of them polite, some of them funny, and a few of them even attractive. But ALL of them seemed to smoke cigarettes, which was a real turn-off for me.

 Adnan had just arrived in the United States to continue with his studies, working on his Masters Degree in English as a Second Language and Linguistics. The very first time I laid eyes on him down in the games room, the attraction I felt was overwhelmingly strong and immediate. He was wearing bell-bottom jeans (so IN at the time!) and a long sleeved woven cotton shirt with his sleeves rolled up. The top two buttons were undone so that a tiny crop of his manly dark chest hair peeked out. Adnan had absolutely the biggest afro you ever saw and a full black beard. His eyes were dark brown and sultry, yet danced with a mischievious twinkle. At almost six feet tall and with strong broad shoulders, Adnan seemed older and more mature than the other Arab students I had seen. He looked mysterious, very masculine, strikingly different, and extremely intriguing. The effect he had on me was surprising. I felt flustered and practically weak at the knees just at the sight of him.

Adnan came into the games room almost daily to play pool. I discovered what his name was because whenever anyone wanted to rent a pool table, he had to leave his ID at the check-out counter where I worked. Even Adnan's name sounded exotic and exciting to me. I was definitely interested, and I felt strongly that I wanted to get to know this tall-dark-and-handsome mysterious stranger.

There was just one little tiny itsy bitsy teensy weensy insignificant problem. Every single time he came in to play pool, Adnan was accompanied by an attractive petite blond, whom I secretly named Miss Priss. Was she his girlfriend? She had an adorable perfect figure (like I always wanted but would never have) and cascading golden curls that tumbled down her back. I would watch them together on the sly. She always appeared bored. They never touched each other or flirted or really even smiled at each other. I decided that I hated her and her perfect little body and her flowing blond tresses. She never ever spoke to me. Adnan did speak to me, but always in a very business like manner, and he never made any small talk with me. He never really seemed to notice me because Miss Priss was always around.

One night several weeks into the term while I was working the evening shift, Adnan came in to play pool. Lo and behold, THIS time Miss Priss was nowhere in sight! THIS time he was there to play pool with another guy. So, I decided to seize the opportunity – Carpe Diem! This was my big chance to try to make an impression, to make this oblivious guy who made my heart flutter notice me. As I handed them the rack of colorful pool balls, I assigned the two young Arab men to the pool table closest to me, just a few short yards away from the large counter where I worked. Lucky for me, it was a very slow night in the games room. Miraculously Adnan and I occasionally made eye contact and exchanged a couple of brief smiles while he played. But what could I do to really make him notice me, to make myself stand out? Trying to be charming or cute was out of the question - when he was around, he made me feel tongue-tied. So as Adnan and his friend played pool, I hatched a plan. I decided to draw a sketch of Adnan. So I got out a piece of blank paper and a pencil and began drawing him.

When Adnan and his buddy finished playing pool, they approached the desk to return the rack of balls and pay. I presented Adnan with the sketch I had made of him, saying simply, "I made this for you." It had actually turned out to be a pretty good likeness of him - although admittedly, he was fairly easy to draw since the sketch consisted mostly of his big curly afro and beard!

 Adnan's eyes flashed at the sketch and then to me and then back to the sketch, at first a little confused, and then with the realization of what I had done. Flattered and humbled by the attention I obviously had shown him, he was visibly taken aback and duly impressed. And for the first time in all those weeks, I felt that he actually looked at me. He saw ME, not just the girl who worked in the gamesroom. I still remember the exact words he spoke as he thanked me for the sketch: "This will be framed!" Without missing a beat, he then asked if I played pool, and we made a date to meet at the Student Union to play the following afternoon. My heart was pounding wildly and I felt like I had just hit a home run, but I contained myself and acted cool until he and his friend left. Mission accomplished - I had gotten that tall-dark-and-handsome stranger to notice me!

I was so anxious about our date, I must have changed outfits a dozen times before I settled on a pair of cream colored jeans and a purple sweater. I applied minimal fresh faced make-up, tossed my hair, and I was out the door, arriving promptly on time for our first date. But to my surprise, Hassan, the friend he had played pool with the night before, also showed up. However, it was okay because it actually helped ease the tension I was feeling and made me more relaxed and not so nervous. We laughed and talked while we played pool, and I discovered that Adnan had a great sense of humor, one of the most important qualities I look for in a man. I learned my first Arabic words that day, "Darba helwa!" which means "Good shot!" I found Adnan to be very likable and easy to be around. My nervousness at the thought of being near him quickly vanished. He was smart and witty, and I thought he was very handsome, of course. He was the whole package. And I was smitten.

The following week after I drew his picture was my 26th birthday. Adnan invited me to his tiny efficiency apartment for a birthday party. I had no idea what to expect. Again I became nervous about what to wear and I fussed about styling my hair. I decided to wear a fairly simple brown faux suede sleeveless dress with narrow cream colored lace and brown satin ribbon adorning the fitted bodice and straps. My shoulder length blonde hair was flowing loosely, with soft gentle curls framing my face. I kept my makeup to a minimum, and in the end, I was quite happy with my appearance that night.

I arrived at the appointed time and as I knocked on the door, the butterflies in my stomach were fluttering like mad. I had the feeling that this night would be a very special one, and I wasn't disappointed. He opened the door and welcomed me warmly with a big hug, a huge smile on his face and those twinkling chocolate brown eyes. He was wearing a neatly pressed red and white striped cotton shirt with a crisp white collar and the sleeves rolled up and brown dress pants. He looked amazingly handsome and sexy. I melted.

The birthday party turned out to be a party for just the two of us, although he had arranged for his friend Hassan to come over and act as the photographer and take pictures for a while. His stereo lightly played typical 70s music, like the Bee Gees, Donna Summer, Kool and the Gang, Barry White, and Irene Cara. The small but tidy space was decorated with a few streamers and balloons and lit candles were set about the room for mood lighting. Spicy incense was sweetly burning. The table was adorned with a cheerful tablecloth and offered an assortment of goodies like cashews, chips, pretzels, veggies with dip, other munchies and delectable chocolate truffles. Plus a birthday cake and ice cream - all that, just for the two of us!

 I was undeniably blown away and swept off my feet. I felt so comfortable around him. He was charming, intelligent, handsome, and fun to be with. Never in my life had anyone gone out of his way like that to impress me as he had done. He had thought of everything, attended to every little detail in planning the perfect evening. Throughout the night, we talked, danced, nibbled, laughed, and played backgammon. And the icing on the cake was that I discovered what a fabulously amazing kisser he was that night. It was a magical and enchanting evening ... like a fairy tale. I didn't want it to end. That very night, I fell in love with Adnan, although I didn't let him know for a while.

And that was the beginning of what was to be our twelve-year long courtship. Yes, you heard it right! Twelve long years before we finally tied the knot! True to his word, Adnan framed the drawing I had made of him and we still have it to this day - it is part of our history together, what initially brought us together in the first place.

Oh! And remember that gorgeous blond, Miss Priss, who used to come into the games room with Adnan to play pool? Adnan told me that they were just friends, that she was actually the girlfriend of another friend of his. He was apparently just keeping Miss Priss company and babysitting/watching over her for his buddy while he was in class. I don't know how true that story was, but I just let the matter drop since the Miss Priss no longer came around anymore once I entered Adnan's life. And that was enough for me!

Over the years when people have learned that my significant other is from Saudi Arabia, often the very first question I will inevitably be asked has been if he is a prince. My answer has always been a resounding, "Yes! He is a Prince ... Among Men!" Adnan is MY prince, and I feel like a very lucky woman, indeed.

Pajama Party

The other night, my sister-in-law “H” invited me to go with her to her sister’s home for her niece’s 15th birthday. The theme was a pajama party - not a sleep over party - where all the guests were asked to wear their favorite PJs. We were the first to arrive, so we could help out with last minute details. Outside the lovely villa, I saw multicolored balloons wafting in the gentle wind above the gate of the soaring stone wall. The inside was decorated with vibrant multihued banners, metallic garlands, oodles of balloons, and several large multicolored disco lights and other types of party lighting with colored shooting laser lights. Furniture was cleared to the walls of the large living room so there was a big dance floor in the middle. One wall was lined with tables offering various beverages and snacks which were presented in attractive colossal shell shaped serving bowls. All the special lighting, music, smoke machine, and decorations were rented from a party place, which is a common thing to do.

Here in Arabia, when you invite someone over, you don’t usually say a particular time, like 8pm. Instead you would tell them to come after a certain prayer time. For example, “Come after Isha” means the party will start after the evening prayer, the last prayer of the day. As the guests began arriving, I was amused at the variety of cute sleepwear – cartoon characters like Betty Boop, Snoopy, Garfield, and Pink Panther, hearts and flowers, stripes and polka dots. The guests were comprised of Birthday Girl’s friends from school, cousins ranging in age from 2 to 25, plus the mothers of those attending and other relatives including many aunts and such. All told, there must have been approximately 75 guests. Except for about five young boys under the age of 8, all the guests were female. Many of the attendees also brought along their maids, of which there had to be at least a dozen or more.

A variety of dance music played – Middle Eastern, rap, Spanish, and Rock ‘n Roll. It was a nice modern mix chosen by Birthday Girl herself. So as the loud music played, the girls and women danced, the lights flashed, and my SIL “H” turned out to be the Life of the Party! “H” wore Elsie the Cow PJs in white with black spots all over, a pink bandana, and a single pink curler in her hair atop her forehead. She looked adorable. During the course of the evening, “H” entertained everyone with her wild and exaggerated dance moves, while stuffing balloons into her PJS in her chest area and her behind. She was totally hilarious and had people literally rolling on the floor with her. Some of the youngest guests were wide-eyed and probably a little shocked at her outrageous behavior, but entertained none the less.

While the younger girls danced the night away, the grown up ladies moved their own party into another living room of the home. Servants brought around trays of salty snacks, chocolates, and cookies, and the most beautiful brightly colored juice drinks in crystal glasses with gold rims. Some women preferred to smoke plain old cigarettes over the four hookahs (which is called “Hubbly Bubbly”) placed around the room as the jovial bunch of ladies sat back enjoying themselves, chatting, laughing, puffing away, and smiling. “H” told me that the Hubbly Bubbly makes them feel happy, and evidently, this was certainly true! I never saw a happier bunch!

They made me feel very welcome as ladies in each corner of the room invited me over to try to get to know me and ask me questions. One woman sucking on the Hubbly Bubbly called me over, wrapped her arm around me and loudly announced to everyone else that I was HER friend now and she wasn’t going to share me. Another lady made me feel especially good when she told me, “Halas (that’s it) – you are one of us!” I don’t think she realized how good her words made me feel. Some of us switched back and forth between dancing on the dance floor and smoking in the Hookah Lounge. And when I told a woman about my age how beautiful her 20 year old daughter was, she immediately called her daughter over to dance with me, like she was giving me a gift. It was a sweet gesture, awkward, and wonderful, and heartwarming, all at the same time.

About midnight, the food was served buffet style in the large dining room. There was enough food to feed a small army. It was, like every other function I have attended since I have been here, an amazingly delicious and delectable feast. Food for the event had been specially prepared by the maids, plus some special platters had been ordered from Chili’s Restaurant. After the guests were done eating, the maids were allowed in to serve themselves, and there was still plenty of food leftover even after they were done! The dancing and smoking and laughing continued until it was time to sing “Happy Birthday” and cut the cake at about 1am. By 1:30am the guests began to leave, as the little ones were getting pretty worn out at this point. When I got home, I told my husband that “H’s” family really knows how to party! It was indeed a riotous and memorable evening, one for the books.

UPDATE: Feb. 2009 - I have removed three photos that I originally published with this post. Even though my husband saw the photos back when I had posted this story months ago and told me that there was nothing wrong with them, it seems that someone in his family has told him today that they were inappropriate, so I have removed the photos.

My Middle Aged Husband Has Become A Party Animal!

When we first met some 30 years ago as university students in Arizona, my husband and I were in our mid-20s and quickly fell head over heels in love. Of course our lives revolved around our many friends and socializing, staying up late and having lots of fun. We entertained quite a bit, hosting frequent get togethers in our home ranging from smaller groups of friends to huge blow out parties. Our social calendar was constantly filled with other events as well, like the Taste of Tucson, the 4th Avenue Street Fair, rock concerts, camping, and traveling around the countryside. We also used to go to the neighborhood clubs to play pool, or dance, even though later on he confided to me that he just pretended to enjoy dancing in an effort to “hook” me! He was so much fun to be with and could definitely be the life of the party.

As we grew older and our student days were over, the reality of "working for a living" set in. We still hosted parties in our home and led active social lives, but not to the extent of when we were college students. My husband has always required a good night’s sleep, while I can get by on a few short hours. It’s not unusual for him to get 9-10 hours of sleep or more each night, with me surviving on only 4-5 hours just fine. If he doesn’t get at least 8 hours of sleep, watch out! – what a grump!

Once he hit 40, my hubby became less socially inclined, somewhat of an old “Fuddy Duddy.” I used to have to prod him to agree to go to an event with me or to get together with friends. He would have just as soon stayed at home to sleep than to go out. When we had dinner guests, I can remember a couple of occasions where he just excused himself and went to bed when he felt our guests had been there long enough! He has never enjoyed movies - there are no movie theaters here in Arabia, so people are not exposed to the joys of the whole movie theater experience from an early age, like in America. Lucky for me, my son developed a love for movies like me, so he and I would frequently go to the movies while my husband stayed home to nap. Going to the movies is one of the things we miss the most about the States.

I would often go out with my girlfriends for Girls Nite Out of dinners, or the movies, and even on some out of town excursions. I would constantly encourage my hubby to go out with his small circle of friends, but it was a very rare occasion if he ever did. He seemed to lose interest in having fun and enjoying himself. His priorities had changed and he felt saddled with responsibilities at home and at work and he was pooped.

Since we moved back to his homeland, the man has become a PARTY ANIMAL!!! Now, I use the term “Party Animal” here, but partying here is a totally different concept than in the States. For one thing, there is no alcohol involved, plus there is no co-mingling of the opposite sex. There are always family get togethers here, many times lasting until the wee hours of the morning and now, miraculously, my husband has no problem attending or staying up late. He also now goes out at least 2 or 3 nights every week to spend time with his brother (who recently retired) and his friends at a café, where they play cards, eat, smoke hookahs, tell jokes and have fun. There have been many weddings that he has managed to attend as well – it was like pulling teeth to get him to accompany me to weddings back in the states! Some nights he doesn’t get home until after 3am. Now, he calls all of this activity "networking" or "conducting business."

Since only men are in attendance, I am not bothered by any of this at all. I am happy that he seems to have been “reborn” and rejuvenated by being back in his element, renewing old friendships, and spending time with his brother. Just the other day we were driving along, and somehow I asked about brothels in Arabia. My husband insisted that there are none, since it is "haram" (forbidden) and it would be too risky to operate one in the Kingdom. He then went on to say that if there were any, he didnt' know about them. So I joked with him that it was a relief since he has been keeping such late hours ! It is just surprising that this is the same man who in the previous years would have none of staying up late or having fun.

My old Fuddy Duddy has become a Party Animal once again!