Adam's World

First off, my apologies for being gone from blogging for the past couple of months. I had to extend my trip to the states to take care of some business. We no longer have Internet, phone service or cable at our home there - which was probably just as well since there was so much work to be done and blogging would have only distracted me. I arrived back in Arabia a couple of days ago to the open arms of my husband and my son and to the stifling and oppressive heat of Jeddah in August. Thankfully, all is well and I appreciate the concerns of those of you who may have thought something was wrong due to my lengthy absence.

I realize that, up to now, I haven't written much at all about my son, who is a typical teen. I have purposefully sidestepped around it to give him his space this past year during his adjustment period. We uprooted Adam at age 14 from the only home he had ever known, took him away from his friends, his school, his life. I feel that it has probably been a much more difficult adjustment for him than it has been for me. All in all, I feel that he has handled it like a real champ. Of course he has his moments, and if he had his druthers, his choice of where to live during his teenage years would definitely not be in Saudi Arabia. But he is making the most of it, and I can only hope that one day he will look back on this time of his life as a positive experience he is grateful for and as an opportunity that not many people get.

When we moved to Arabia last fall, Adam entered the country on a temporary Saudi passport. As the son of a Saudi man, he is granted automatic citizenship. Oddly enough, Saudi mothers do not transfer automatic citizenship to their children. My husband thought it would be easier to get him into the country this way (and indeed it was) instead of going through the visa process like I had to do, which delayed my own trip to Arabia for another month after their departure while I awaited approval.

Shortly after they arrived, my husband began the process of applying for Saudi citizenship for Adam. All the paperwork and proper documentation was turned in by November, and then we waited. And waited. And waited. And we are still waiting. Despite my hubby's efforts, nothing has sped up this process. Apparently, he was told, Adam's application has been approved and is just waiting for the signature of the prince in charge of that ministry. And he will sign it only when he is good and ready. Consequently when it came time for our trip back to the states in mid-June, Adam had to remain in Arabia. Since he had entered Saudi Arabia on a temporary Saudi passport, he couldn't very well leave the country on his US passport, since it didn't show that he had ever entered the country in the first place.

 Of course Adam was upset at first about not being able to make the trip back to the US, as was I, but he accepted it. While we were gone, he stayed at the home of one of his uncles, who made sure Adam was comfortable, pampered and kept busy. Adam composed a long wish list of items he wanted me to get him, mostly CDs and DVDs. Some of Adam's taste in music is not readily available in Arabia. When I could get to a computer, Adam and I were in touch by email (he kept adding to his wish list!) and several times we even managed to chat online. I found it amusing that several of my friends in the US, when they learned that Adam hadn't been able to travel with us, asked me if it was because the Saudi government wouldn't allow Adam to leave the country. I guess technically you could say that was the case - bureaucratic red tape -but once we get his documentation back, he will be able to come and go as he pleases. But he is not being kept there against his will or forbidden to leave, like some people might have imagined.

A few months after we arrived in Arabia, I asked Adam how he felt about things, in particular the separation of men and women in society here. Adam told me that he almost felt as if he were being punished for doing something wrong. I thought that was an interesting perspective that I hadn't even considered before. The social situation is awkward for him since he has always hung out with girls and his very best friend back in Florida is a girl. Here in Arabia, this is impossible and most of his girl cousins who are in their teens choose to cover their hair when Adam is around, although I think it is really determined by their parents. For all intents and purposes, any marriageable female is supposed to "cover" in front of any male they could possibly ever marry. This includes cousins and aunts.

My husband has spoken to Adam in Arabic since he was a baby, so Adam has a basic verbal understanding of Arabic, however he had never learned to read or write the language and he has always been shy about speaking it. So when we arrived in Arabia last fall, logic would dictate that Adam would not survive in a public Arabic speaking school. However since his dad is Saudi, we must get special governmental approval for Adam to attend an international English speaking school. This rule only applies to Saudi students, who are expected to go to Saudi schools. Adam had to be tested to prove that he cannot read or write Arabic, and then a government ministry must grant permission for Adam to go to an international school. And we must go through this process every school year. Like the citizenship process, this approval, too, takes forever. Last school year, since Adam was not granted permission to attend school until January, he missed the whole first half of the school year. Plus, he was kept back in 8th grade, which he had already completed in the states.

As you can imagine, the first few months Adam spent in Arabia were getting pretty boring for him. There were many radical changes from his old life in America that he had to adapt to. He especially missed his friends who were starting high school without him. Once he started school however, his life greatly improved. He made new friends and since he had been out of school for several months, he actually gained a new found appreciation for education which he never had before. Adam's school put him in the company of other students from all over the world. His teachers are also from all over the world, and his school really reminds us of his old school back in Florida.

With the fall term starting again in just one week, we are still awaiting the approval for him to be allowed to attend the international school again. An administrator of the school just told us that she has only received approvals for 15 students so far out of a total of 114. This whole difficult approval process thing for me makes no sense whatsoever. How could he be expected to attend an Arabic school when he doesn't read or write the language? So why give the parents such a hard time about it? It is obvious that since he was raised in America up to this point, he reads and writes in English. By not granting the permission in a timely fashion, how can keeping him out of school for months on end possibly be to his advantage? The whole situation just seems ludicrous to me. I just don't get it. We are maintaining an optimistic and positive attitude and have already paid his costly tuition for this coming term. So please keep your fingers crossed!

 Back in the states years before, we had had several bad experiences with the coaches when we tried to get Adam interested in sports, so we were all pretty much turned off by it. But in Arabia he has played a variety of sports in PE class and, much to his delight, found that he was actually quite athletic. He even joined the school rugby team with determination, dedication and enthusiasm. As a result, he has lost any remaining baby fat of his youth and has developed into a sturdy young man, almost as tall as his dad. He has to shave regularly and it looks like he will eventually be as hairy as his dad too.

We were very pleased with his last report card of the school year with 5 A's and 3 B's. After all the upheaval in his life during the past year, Adam has adapted remarkably well and we are so proud of him. He now has a maturity he did not possess before and he is a pleasure to be around and hang out with. He has a dramatic flair and is quite adept at doing impressive foreign accents and different voices. And he's funny, constantly making me laugh. He is also a gifted writer and graphic artist and loves music of all kinds. I'm sure whatever he decides to do with his life, he will be successful and accomplished. What more could a parent ask for?

(All photos and graphic art in this post by my son Adam.)

Beauty in Arabia

For Saudi Arabian women, physical beauty is vitally important. The greatest asset that an Arabian woman has here in this society is a pretty face. I learned this early on when I first met my husband back in our mid-20s, when I was much thinner, cuter, and younger. During get togethers with his Middle Eastern friends, the topic of pretty women would often come up, and they all always agreed that a woman’s physical beauty is much more important than her intelligence or her personality. I remember thinking how shallow Middle Eastern men must be if the attribute of a nice looking physical appearance was really what they look for most in a woman.

“What if she’s pretty but a real bitch?” I asked several of Adnan’s friends. “It doesn’t matter as long as she is beautiful,” I recall them saying. I had a very difficult time understanding this perspective of theirs. Personality and intelligence were the qualities I had always found most attractive about a man. Of course there had to be some kind of physical attraction as well, but that certainly wasn’t what I ever considered the most important thing I looked for in a man.

Now that I have been living here in this country for eight months, it has shed some light on my understanding of why Saudi men place such a high value on a woman’s beauty. Since dating is not allowed and many couples barely know each other when they decide to wed, first impressions are of the utmost importance, and being fair of face weighs in heavily in this situation. It’s no secret here that a beautiful woman is much more desirable for marriage than one who is not so pleasing to look at. Physical beauty is really all Arab men have to go on to make their decision about who they want to spend the rest of their lives with. The number one goal in life for most women here is to marry, have children and take care of her family. The Koran commands marriage. In fact, it even instructs men to marry not based on the female's beauty or wealth but on her devotion to the religion. This is in direct contradiction to my knowledge of what Saudi men look for in a mate.

Most women here in Arabia have very long and lustrous hair. Everybody in the world knows that most men prefer long flowing hair over short hair. I had wondered why many women wore the hijab (head scarf) wrapped so tightly around their heads, which is not exactly the most flattering way they could wear it. And basically, this is the reason they wear it that way - so they WON'T look attractive. I have also since learned that Muslim women are not supposed to wear their hair on top of their heads to give them height, as this makes them appear more attractive when wearing the hijab (hair covering) and this is against Islam. I have seen some younger women in the malls who are probably more vain than religious and wish to appear more attractive, so they might give themselves an added little boost on top of their heads under their hijabs. These are the same women who wear makeup to the mall as well, which is not supposed to be worn if you are to be seen by men other than your husband. I know that I feel better about myself when I wear a little makeup, but here I am not supposed to except to a wedding where only other women will be there. I am not supposed to wear makeup to family functions either because my brother-in-laws or nephews might get turned on by my exquisite beauty.

I don’t know whether men here fancy straight or curly hair, but I seem to think that this might just be a personal preference. My husband definitely favors soft straight hair like mine. I don’t know if this is because his hair is very frizzy, er, I mean, curly. It goes back to that grass is always greener philosophy. We always seem to want the things we don’t have, don't we? I myself wouldn’t mind if my hair had at least a bit of a wave to it. My son has curly hair also and he too would prefer to have straight hair like mine. He would love to have blue eyes as well, instead of brown eyes.

Women with lighter eyes and fair skin are also more desirable here in Arabia too. Light eyes are rare within pure Saudi families, however people from other countries such as Turkey or Egypt who have settled here have brought some light eyes into the population.
As far as skin color goes, the preference here is definitely for lighter skin. Women with darker skin here though actually stay lighter because they are never exposed to the sun, therefore their skin never tans or freckles, stays softer and doesn‘t wrinkle as much or as early as their American counterparts who have spent lots of time outdoors.

 My skin feels like sandpaper compared to the native women who have been covered up here all their lives. Score a point for the abaya!

When women go to weddings here, many of the woman wear a ton of borderline clown makeup. We are talking dozens of Tammy Faye look alikes slithering around in low cut backless evening gowns.
Now remember, men and women do not ever mix socially here, so women dress like this for other women only. I just think that they would look so much prettier with less makeup, but apparently they like the Tammy Faye look.

Something interesting about a Muslim woman’s beauty regimen I have learned about since I’ve been here concerns her eyebrows. I first noticed one day that my unmarried niece’s black thick eyebrows had the hairs on the top and the bottom of her eyebrows bleached a whitish yellow, leaving the hairs in the middle the dark natural color. I had never seen anything like this before, so I asked her about it. She bleaches part of her eyebrows which are naturally so thick and dark and heavy to make them appear thinner and more shapely. The part that is left natural is indeed very dark and thick - I even thought she had applied black eyebrow pencil but she hadn’t. Two of my nieces have to do this procedure to their eyebrows about once a week, as the bleaching gradually darkens back up with washing and showering. The dye job is done with a lightening powder and a cream base that they mix together and carefully apply to the hairs they wish to disguise. She leaves it on for about an hour, until it is a pale yellow color. Her mother’s eyebrows are not so heavy and thick, so she only does hers about once a month and only leaves the mixture on for about half an hour. Unless you look really closely, the bleached parts are not really noticeable and tend to just blend in and appear like skin.

 According to Islam, women are not supposed to pluck their eyebrows because they are not supposed to change things about themselves because God made them that way. Actually, what I read says that the women who plucks her facial hair is "cursed." (And by the way, filing the teeth and getting tattoos are also forbidden.) However, as I understand it, it is okay to dye parts of the eyebrows so they appear to be thinner and a different shape. I personally don’t quite understand the difference of why bleaching is allowed and plucking is not. Plucked eyebrows grow back and aren‘t a permanent solution, just like the bleaching is only a temporary fix. So why do Islamic women feel the need to do this at all if Islam says not to change the way God made them? Aren’t they changing their appearance as well by bleaching their eyebrows? Does it have to do with vanity and feeling attractive? If so, is this Islamic?

Women here are not supposed to make themselves appear attractive to other men. This is why they wear abayas, veils, cover their hair and are not supposed to wear makeup except for their own husbands or for other women. This society totally hides women from being viewed by other men, yet there is such a high value placed on a woman’s physical beauty. I’m figuring women do things like dying their eyebrows because it makes them feel more attractive, like I feel when I wear makeup - but to whom? To themselves? To other women? I just find things like this very confusing. I would love to understand this, but unfortunately the explanations I got from my hubby and his family didn’t clarify things for me and just confused me even more. To me, this is a very murky area.

I've Been Tagged: Let's Hope...

OK, I have been "tagged" by 3 of my cyber friends and fellow bloggers...

Aafke of "Clouddragon" Aafke has recently written some wonderful blog posts about the dress and customs of her native Holland that I hope you will check out.

Brandy of "American Muslima Writer" American Muslima Writer, who is from Arizona like me, lives in the UAE with her Lebanese hubby and their two kids. She writes some really thought provoking blogs about all different sorts of subjects.

Alajnabiya of "Climbing Walls" Climbing Walls by Alajnabiya is written by an American Muslimah who lives in Palestine. She writes about the frustrating and sad situation in her country, posts photos and videos, and I have learned so much about the struggles that go on there from her.

Here's what's involved with being tagged...

THE RULES:

1. On your blog, post the Rules & 10 things you have HOPE for in your life.
2. LINK Tag to 5 people (we want hope to spread to people!) and LINK the person who tagged you.
3. Comment/Notify the 5 People they’ve been tagged.

10 Things I have Hope for in my life ...
1. World peace.
2. No more racism or discrimination.
3. An end to world hunger and suffering.
4. No more bullies.
5. Good health, success, and wealth for me, my family and friends.
6. No more corrupt politicians.
7. That George Bush and his gang will be brought to justice.
8. To live in a cooler climate, in a place like Gig Harbor, Washington, or maybe Holland.
9. Happiness for everyone!!!
10. To be a perfect size 6, and to be able to eat whatever I want.

And here is the list of victims I have decided to tag for this one:
(supposed to be 10, but there's no way I can do that many!)

- Cheela of "Through Irish Eyes"
- Chitra of "Always in the Kitchen"
- Umm Zubair of "I Have a Feeling I'm not in California Anymore"
- Eman of "Saudi Woman's Weblog"

Carpet Cleaner

R  ight next door to this medium sized neighborhood supermarket that we frequent sits a roomy open lot with 8 foot high lofty walls all the way around it, except for a sizable opening in the front where the massive gate is. From the top of the steps of the supermarket, I could peer over the sturdy wall and see dozens of carpets in different colors, styles and shapes hanging over long rods and baking in the toasty sun.

When I first noticed the lot, my first thought was that it was a carpet sales market. However since there is no roof of any kind, I quickly dismissed that idea. Rain is very scarce, well, practically nonexistent here in Jeddah, but the settling dust and the exposure to the bright sun day after day would destroy new carpets sitting out in the elements like that.

My husband told me that the place was actually a carpet cleaner, and I was intrigued. So one day after our shopping was done at the little supermarket, my son and I walked over so I could hopefully take some photos.

Now I must admit I have never before been inside a carpet cleaners in the states to observe the actual operation of such an establishment, so I am not at all familiar with the process. But I thought it would be interesting to see how it was done here in Arabia.

We walked in looking for someone I could ask about taking some pictures. Amidst all the carpets was a little shack of an office toward the back of lot. A man tumbled out and approached us, speaking in Arabic. I asked if it was okay if I took a few photos. He didn't speak English, so I held up my camera and acted out like I was taking pictures as I made little clucking sounds with my tongue, and then I said, "Okay?" He was miffed because I'm sure he's never had a crazy person like me come in to take photos of the place, but he skeptically gestured that it would be all right.

Adam and I ambled through the lot as I snapped away. We saw a guy spraying with a water hose who was scrubbing and rinsing the carpets. In another area, there were dripping carpets that he had just finished cleaning.

We turned around to head back to the entrance and noticed that about six other men had come out of the tiny office to watch what we were doing. One of them stepped forward and said something in Arabic that we didn't understand. I guessed that he was in charge. So I went through the same spiel with this guy, doing my clucking noises and acting out the picture taking again. I smiled and said "Thank you" in Arabic.

And then Adam and I just resumed our stroll toward the gate as I snapped a few more photos, and the stunned carpet men just stood there with their mouths open.

I wished I could have asked about how much it costs to have a carpet cleaned in this manner, how long it takes to dry, what type of shampoo or cleansers they use, or whether they treat all carpets the same regardless of the materials they are made of like wool, or synthetic, or whatever, but I couldn't. I felt I should just hurry up and get out of there before the guy in charge thought he better throw his weight around!

At least I got my photos.

Al Qalzam Fish Restaurant

O ne evening we drove out of the city a short distance to have dinner at a popular fish restaurant called Al Qalzam.   Adnan’s whole family was invited to come, which in itself was unusual because mostly they all gather at one of the homes instead of a public restaurant.  But Adnan’s mom wanted to treat everyone to this fabulous fish dinner, so we piled into the car and off we went.

 

Restaurants here in Saudi Arabia usually have two distinct entrances and seating areas - one for families only and the other for single men only.  Even fast food places like Burger King are set up this way.  Usually there are clear signs directing customers to the proper entrance.

Many restaurants also provide additional privacy for families, such as individual dining rooms, screens, alcoves, or curtains.  The reason for this of course is because there is to be no mixing socially of the sexes, hence the separate entrances and seating areas.

Al Qalzam is not your typical Saudi restaurant, by any means. In fact, I had never seen one like it in my life.
It occupies several acres of land. As we drove in through the grand arched entrance, there was an outdoor family entertainment area, including a ferris wheel and various kiddie rides. This amusement area was surrounded on either side by neat rows of secluded individual dining ramadas and dining tents.

There was not one big building with tables where various groups of diners could eat like your typical restaurant.  Instead there were narrow roadways throughout and the whole place reminded me of a large trailer park, except instead of trailers, there were the ramadas and tents.

There must have been more than 100 units in all.  Individual dining areas stood neatly row after row, each one secluded from the others’ view, each one extremely private and each having its own parking space/s.  The restaurant's kitchen was off at the far end lining the perimeter of the property and it was huge, consisting of several large buildings.  Our group had a reservation for Tent #10. We drove down one roadway to the end, turned left, and #10 was just ahead.

 
 

We parked along the narrow roadway next to our rented tents. Most of the family had already arrived.
As I entered the opening, I saw that there was a large private outdoor patio area surrounded by tall hedges, but since the weather was warm, we didn’t make use of it.  There were benches and a large rolled up carpet here on the patio. I’m sure during the cooler months, it would just be lovely sitting out under the stars.

Our area actually consisted of two enormous air conditioned tents, complete with plush red carpeting with blue and gold squiggles on it.  The comfortable floor cushions were in the same color scheme in a bold wavy patterned design. all the way around the perimeter inside the tents, plus a satellite TV.  There were also 2 large tables with short legs for dining.  The inside lining of the tent was fashioned from a heavy bold Bedouin striped fabric in red, black, white, and gray.  Electric lanterns hung down from the ceiling of the tent, and florescent lighting hidden in the top walls of the tents provided additional indirect lighting.  In between the two tents was a large clean private restroom, with a toilet and a sink.

I’m guessing that each tent could comfortably seat about 25 people.  We all took up occupancy first in the tent to the right where we relaxed on the floor cushions, drank Arabic coffee (gahwa), and snacked, waiting until the rest of the family arrived.  Several of us decided to play cards down on the thick cushy carpet.
Once everyone else arrived, the pre-ordered feast was promptly delivered to our tent by a small battalion of waiters.  The meal consisted of at least 8 foil covered platters which were placed onto the low tables.

We all plopped down on the clean and comfortable carpeting, taking our places around the tables to enjoy the feast.  The meal consisted of at least three different kinds of fish, prepared different ways. There was fantastic grilled parrot fish, meaty baked grouper in a tomato sauce, and another yummy fish that was deep fried.   All told, there must have been at least eleven or twelve large whole fish served to our group.  Plus two kinds of rice, salad, hummus, pita bread, and a variety of sauces. There was plenty of food for everyone, so much so that we were all able to take home leftovers too.

After we finished the meal, we gathered up our belongings and adjourned to the other tent for after dinner tea and dessert of fresh fruits and baklava, while restaurant employees discreetly cleaned out the first tent we had occupied.  Some of us played more cards, others talked and a few of the full-bellied family members were content to just watch TV.

I was told that on weekend nights, the Al Qalzam Fisherie is packed with families and reservations are a must.  We went there on a weeknight, and although it wasn't packed to the gills, there was still a fair amount of patrons there.   This restaurant certainly does a booming business.  Wish I owned the place…

Prayer Time

I   am by no means an expert on Islam, but I try my best to convey my impressions and to be accurate and not promote any misinformation. However if I do, please accept my invitation to clarify or make corrections in my comments section.

 Prayer in Arabic is called “salah,” which translates to supplication. According to Islam, Muslims are required to pray five times every day. Prayer times are very specific, and each prayer has a name. The very first prayer of the day is called Fajr. The call to prayer sounds at about 4:45am for this prayer, although when I first arrived here back in October, it was about an hour later. The prayer times change by minutes every day, changing to earlier in the day and later in the evening in the summer months when the days are longer. The second prayer of the day, called Duhur, now comes at about 1pm, although it was at about noon when I first got here. The third prayer time of Asr is about 4pm (used to be at 3:30pm). The fourth prayer is known as Maghrib and is at about 7pm (which used to be at 6pm), and the last prayer of the day, called Isha, comes now at about 8:30pm (previously at 7:30pm). The prayers vary in length according to how many “rakaahs,” or recitations of a unit of prayer, are required for that particular prayer time. Positions change during prayer from standing, to bending over at the waist, back to standing, then down to the floor on your knees touching your head to the floor - this is why prayer rugs are used - and kneeling on the floor sitting on your feet. These positions are repeated until the prayer is completed by turning the head to the right and then to the left.

Speaking of prayer rugs, they come in all colors and many sizes. My son has one that is a really plush leopard print. Some women try to match the color of their prayer rug with the color of their sharshaf, the loose fitting total body covering that is worn at home when praying. I have even seen prayer rugs with built in compasses on them so you know which way Mecca is, since that is the direction you must face when you pray.

When the call to prayer sounds, the devotees must prepare for prayer by performing the cleansing ritual of ablution, called “wudhu.” In a previous post, I described a bit about how this is done, about the calls to prayer, and some other information. Here is the link to that prior post:   Islam and Me...When in Rome

From what I understand, women who are on their periods or who have given birth and are still bleeding are not allowed to participate in prayer. Someone told me that the reason for this is because women are considered unclean during these times. When men and women pray together, as at home, a man must lead the prayer, and women must be behind the men. People who are physically unable to perform the movements of the prayers are allowed to sit during prayer. When a person has had sex, a complete bath, called “ghusl,” is required, instead of just performing wudhu. My husband gave me a 16 page instruction booklet that deals with, among other things, the prayers, cleansing, prayer positions, things that are allowed and things that are disliked during prayer, purification for prayer and impurities, when wudhu and ghusl are required and what things invalidate them, and bathroom etiquette. Let me stress how complete and specific these instructions are. In the future, I intend to post sections of this very interesting booklet.

Prayer time takes a little getting used to here in Saudi Arabia. All businesses must close for prayers. This means that all businesses open and close several times a day. It also means that shoppers are either kicked out of shops or at some places they are locked inside when it’s prayer time. Once we were in a large supermarket when prayers were called and we were locked inside the store for about half an hour. Many businesses open in the morning and then close from about 12-3 or 1-4 depending on what time of year it is, and then open and close again and again for the last two prayers of the day. Most businesses stay open pretty late, until at least midnight or so, due to the limited open times during the day. Another reason is because of the extreme heat here during the day which can be quite uncomfortable, and since the weather is more pleasant in the evenings, many people prefer to do their business or shopping then.

Foreign workers who are not close enough to go to a mosque for prayers gather on the sidewalks outside businesses, lay down carpets and prayer rugs, and pray together as a group. I have seen groups on the sidewalks as large as forty to fifty men, and of course smaller prayer groups of just a few men. My husband hates being out of the house during prayer times so I have had a difficult time trying to get photos of these sidewalk prayers, as we are usually home then anyway, but if we’re not, we are speeding by on our way home. I love seeing the men praying on the sidewalks, by the way. I admire their devotion. I can only imagine what people in America would think if they saw men praying on the sidewalks there.

Some mosques are located in the middle of busy business areas where there is not much parking available. It is not unusual to see cars double and triple parked in the streets around the block near the mosques. I have been told that this is perfectly fine and no one can complain because these men are at the mosque praying. Usually only men go to the mosques to pray on a daily basis. Women generally pray at home, even on the holy day which is Friday.

Every shopping mall I have been to so far is equipped with separate fully carpeted prayer room facilities for men and women, located near the restrooms so they can wash up first. Literally every store in the mall closes when it’s prayer time, so every day hundreds of shoppers are left to roam the corridors of the mall until the shops open back up about a half hour later.

A couple of times we were in a restaurant when it was prayer time. The waiters scurried around making sure we were comfortable and had our drinks, and then they were gone for half an hour. After prayer time they picked right back up where they left off, continuing with our service.

I remember back in Florida, whenever Adam had a sporting event or a school function that we should have attended to show support for our son, my husband would refuse to go if the event coincided with a prayer time, which was often the case. It used to be upsetting to me because my reasoning is that God would understand why he would have to pray later since he was supporting his son by being there for him. This argument never held water with my husband, and it was always a sore spot between us. I always resented having to attend these functions alone.

Here, it seems like if we are out during the day to try to get things done, we are always in a rush to finish before the next prayer time. No wonder the traffic is so horrendous here with everybody zipping around to beat the clock. I must admit I don't find shopping here nearly as enjoyable as I used to in the states. It is inconvenient and stressful and many times you have to go back several times to try to find what you are looking for because you simply run out of time.

Family in Crisis

E ducation for women in Saudi Arabia has gained tremendous importance over the past three decades or so. Prior to that, many women quit school to marry in their teens and raise their families. A girl’s education used to be limited to those areas specifically tied to religion, educating the female in Islamic ways so she could become the perfect housewife and mother, and if she desired, to prepare herself for a career in the very limited areas of teaching, nursing or medicine, careers which “suited her nature.”

While Arabic is the official language of Saudi Arabia, English is extensively spoken and is the required foreign language taught in schools. Saudis have placed great importance on learning the English language, since it is used not only in technical textbooks but also in business, the military, and other careers. English is taught from elementary school on up.

Consequently, one of the jobs that native English speaking women like myself here in Arabia are in demand for now is to tutor in English. I am currently tutoring for two families, three days a week for a couple hours each session. One of the families I have been tutoring for a few months now is headed by a wealthy gold and diamonds dealer that my husband has known for over 20 years. The mother manages their large home and takes college classes at a local women’s college. The family has a total of five daughters, but I only work with the middle three, who are 18, 15, and 12. I’ll call them Miriam, Laila, and Jasmin. All the girls have thick black wavy hair, like their mother, and large pretty brown eyes. The oldest daughter Shaza, who is 20 and deaf, goes to a special school. She always greets me with a smile and hugs and kisses, as all of the girls do. The rest of the family signs with her and I can see that they love her very much. The youngest daughter Janna, at two years of age, is quite the character and rules the roost. She is a force to be reckoned with. Most of the time she tries to dominate my time and attention before one of the maids whisks her away. Locked French doors then keep the little one out of our way, but many times she will bang on the doors and cry to be let in. Janna is already quite the clothes horse, frequently changing her outfit twice or three times during my two hour stay in their home.

Their driver picks me up each time and takes me back home for the twenty minute drive to their home. Well, actually, it could be one of the three drivers that the family employs. I believe the drivers are from Bangladesh and Pakistan. Only one of them speaks English, but he has a very thick accent so I don’t always understand what he is saying. He is actually a retired military man who gets a pension and has a wife back home and two college aged sons attending college. The reason he took this job driving in Saudi Arabia is to pay for his sons schooling. A three inch scar is visible across his right cheek, and I wonder how he got it but I haven’t worked up the nerve to ask him about it yet. He sees his family only once a year. Sometimes we don’t speak much, but other times we talk about politics or religion or how crazy the drivers are here in Arabia. During one drive he asked me if I liked music, so then he surprised me by putting on his “special” cassette tape. Let me tell you, it was just a tad surreal being driven along the crowded streets of Jeddah by a Bangladeshi driver with Joan Baez singing in the background! I couldn’t help smiling.

When we arrive at the villa, the caretaker opens up a gate for me. Inside the gate is a huge tiled in courtyard. A freestanding basketball hoop stands at one end. There are three covered parking spots for family vehicles. So far I have counted at least eight vehicles owned by the family. There are four large SUVs, including a Range Rover, a Toyota Fortuner, and a big GMC, all of which are no more than two years old, plus an older model SUV. The fleet also includes at least two late model luxury sedans and two minivans. The family employs at least 6 full time live-in workers, including the three drivers and the caretaker, plus at least two maids. I haven’t seen the entire house, but it is rather large.

I enter through a side door. Just inside is a large two story foyer with a big flight of stairs leading to the main part of the home. Most homes here have all tile or marble floors, and most bathrooms and many kitchens have tiled walls too. There is also a kitchen downstairs where a couple of maids usually are. Upstairs is a large landing where I can hang up my abaya and leave my shoes. There are also more stairs which lead to another level, but I have never been up there. The landing leads to a very large family room with a big screen TV and a comfortable U-shaped seating area comprised of plush and cushy red couches and pillows. A large red Persian carpet is in the middle of the room. A huge dining table and chairs is off on the far side of the room. There are two more living rooms off of the family room, with a bath in between. A door on the other side of the family room leads to the parents’ bedroom. And a hallway as you first enter from the landing leads to several more bedrooms, baths, and a second smaller kitchen.

One night this week when I arrived, Miriam and Laila were on the phone in another room, so I sat and talked with Jasmin for a while. Miriam and Laila came in after a while and they were both visibly upset. They sat down on the couch and both of them started crying. I asked what was wrong, what happened? They hesitated to talk to me, but the tears kept flowing. Immediately I thought that someone had died … but when I heard what had happened, it almost seemed worse than that. Finally Miriam spoke up and simply said, “Our mother is gone.” I hugged the girls as they continued to sob. “What do you mean, she’s gone?” I asked. Miriam spoke again. “She left. She moved out.” My heart sank. Soon Jasmin and even the strong-willed little two year old were crying. I let them talk as I tried to console them.

I learned that their parents were cousins. But not only that, their dad’s sister is also married to their mom’s brother, so the problems this couple is having creates a big crisis for the whole family. Dad is always working, travels a lot on business, and makes an excellent income for the family, but he’s hardly ever there at the house with his own family. Indeed in the few months that I have been going to their home, not once had Dad ever been there.

Miriam at 18 has been designated by her dad to step up to the plate and fill in during Mom’s absence. She studies full-time at a girls college and is trying hard to improve her English skills so she can enroll in a university. Her dream is to become an architect. She’s upset with her dad and one of the first things she said was, “I hate all men!” Miriam feels she is unequipped to handle managing the home, caring for her sisters and her dad, and maintaining her schoolwork. I refrained from asking any questions and just let the girls talk and cry, while I tried to reassure them that things would somehow work out. I did not discover the reasons for their parents troubles, but I did find out that it does NOT involve anything like the dad taking on a second wife. Whew! The girls kept saying that they can’t live or manage without their mom, and the baby Janna especially misses her.

Shaza is the only sister who did not cry. She was aware of what was going on and she saw her sisters crying. Miriam told me that Shaza is so strong and rarely cries. She was reading the Quran while the girls cried and talked. Of all the girls, I think Shaza looks most like her mom. Eventually the tears stopped and they managed some smiles.

 Since I was supposed to go there again the very next evening, I decided to do something fun with them that I had been promising. I brought with me all my beading supplies to have the girls make jewelry. I had already taken off my abaya and head scarf and carted my beading supplies into one of the living rooms, when in walked the man of the house. I hadn’t realized that he was at home, so he saw my hair! Good heavens! Scandalous. I was actually surprised at myself for feeling a bit self conscious about my hair being exposed. But even though I felt a little uncomfortable, I tried to act as normal as possible. It didn’t fluster him at all. He told me that he had stayed home all day because his wife was away visiting her sister. I pretended as though nothing were out of the ordinary. He asked me if I remembered meeting him back in Arizona two decades ago, and he asked about my husband and son. Another thing that he said was that his wife and his daughters were very happy with me coming over and tutoring them and that he was very pleased about it. The man then excused himself, saying that it was time for him to leave and get to work.

The girls had a wonderful time that evening. There were no tears. They each made at least three bracelets, including one that they each made for their mom too. I made a bracelet for two year old Janna out of pink beads and hearts. The mischievious little one managed to empty out several bags of beads all over the carpet before she was carried away kicking and screaming and then kept in solitary confinement by one of the maids. The young sisters were so proud of their creations. We giggled and joked around and the mood was a far cry (no pun intended) from the emotionally charged evening the day prior. We didn’t really discuss their mother, except for me asking them to tell her hello when they speak to her.

With the divorce rate a staggering 40 per cent here in Jeddah, I do sincerely wish that this couple with five lovely daughters can resolve their issues and work things out. That is my fervent hope.