To Leave Saudi: Turn, Turn, Turn

NOTE: I apologise for the BIZARRE spacing that Blogspot is forcing on me. No matter what I do, the spacing is weird. Know that I tried my very best to even things out, to no avail! Curses!

To everything - turn, turn, turn
There is a season - turn, turn, turn
And a time for every purpose under heaven

I'm so anxious. I haven't been able to sleep properly for days, I'm constantly eating and regaining all those pounds, and I have an upset stomach that never seems to get better.


I'm leaving Riyadh today.


What I mean is, I am leaving Riyadh tonight. Very, very late tonight. I'm taking a plane and finally going back to the US to continue my life, or something. It is the end of my period of stagnation! I should rejoice!


But was this really stagnation, or was there anything useful in this time? Did I really get to reflect and learn anything? Did I really lose any pounds to regain? Did I prepare myself at all for the very difficult journey ahead?


I do not have an answer yet, to any of those questions!


The best thing about being here in the summer is that time stood extremely still. I didn't need to think about anything except how to pass each coming day; what to eat, watch on TV, do on the internet, books to read...

The first few weeks were different, because I had to make decisions: will I be going to graduate school yet? Will I be staying in Saudi Arabia for longer to apply to different schools? Am I happy with my life? In the end, I answered the first two questions with a Yes and a No. The last question can't just be answered like that. I'm still thinking about it.


In some ways, I am leaving tonight with more questions than answers. I've learned new things about Saudi Arabia and allowed myself to be exposed to what certain people living outside and in Saudi think. All of this mostly happened on the internet through other blogs and news articles, but I have never been as informed about some of the goings on in Saudi than I am now. No way am I an expert, but my online self-education has made me more aware. Maybe that is why I am so full of questions!

A time to build up, a time to break down

A time to dance, a time to mourn

A time to cast away stones

A time to gather stones together

The greatest thing I have learned this summer is that I am not the saviour of Saudi Arabia. I am not a superhero who can make disappear all of the problems and issues that exist over here. What I can do, in the end, is read and write about what I think. When I do that, I am supporting people who can do what I cannot. In the end, I have realised that I am not a person to cause any political change or unrest in this country, mostly due to a very, very simple thing:


This is not my country. I do not belong here. I may appreciate and love some of the things, but I cannot begin to understand what Saudis and non-Saudis go through in this country because I don't work here. I have come here three summers without a scratch, because I have been forced to avoid all dangers. I am one of the luckiest people who has ever been to Riyadh! Other people either have the time of their life at places I will never be able to visit, and yet another group will be miserable because they have their dignity stripped from them.

To everything - turn, turn, turn

There is a season - turn, turn, turn

And a time for every purpose under heaven

But what do I really know? In the end, I don't really know how to help people in need here because I don't live here often enough, nor do I socialise with many people. In fact, I only sort of socialised with one, and that was over the phone! On top of that, I am not even a Saudi. The change needs to come from Saudis themselves, and Saudi women in particular. They are the ones who can create the most change. The last thing they need is a foreigner barging in and telling them what to do. That creates a backlash, not change.


The truth is, there are more capable Saudis who can do more to help their country, and they already are and will. I am not good at political change at all. When it comes to human rights, the rights of the child, joblessness, religious bastardisation, I am not even knowledgeable about world standards! I know what is wrong, but what model is right? I cannot dictate what Saudi Arabia's model should be. That is up to the people who actually live, work, and breathe this country. 


If I could do anything, I wouldn't touch policies or government. I have to admit there are times when I'd like to put up my own signs and do my own protests, but guess what? I'd be doing it alone. I'd be mocked for being that foolish foreign girl who doesn't understand anything and they would be absolutely right. If I knew any better, I'd know that public demonstrations here mostly lead to arrests. I don't know what to even protest for: as I said, I know the problems (and not even to their full extent!) but I do not know what the solutions are.

A time of war, a time of peace

A time of love, a time of hate

A time you may embrace

A time to refrain from embracing

There are people who definitely know what to rally for. There are a lot of people who know Riyadh and Saudi back to front and know the culture and society much better. These are the people, men and women, who will end up making the most of the country while still staying true to its spirit. The optimistic thing is that they have a rather progressive King who seems to be mostly on their side, and from my point of view that means a lot. There are still fatwas by random dudes, but even the Royal family is putting them down.


I am not World Police. Even if I were a foreign government, I still have no right to go barge into any country. It is really because of foreign involvement from the West that so much resistance to change has happened in the Middle East. I know what is done is done, so I think I am going to be one less (half)Westerner who tries to impose my beliefs in the future. I know many people in the US and other Western nations also want to help but the best help anyone from there can do is just take a step back and let the experts do the job. We are not the experts. As much as I want and desire change, I can't get it the way that Westerners know how because things are different here than what we all know and understand. And for the sake of diversity and richness of our cultural planet, I commend that.

A time to be born, a time to die

A time to plant, a time to reap

A time to kill, a time to heal

A time to laugh, a time to weep

I have said the same thing over and over, I apologise, but the truth is that I feel so helpless about certain issues that really touch my heart that I can't really deal with the frustration, even though I am leaving soon. It is in fact due to my departure that I feel even more irritated with myself and my relationship to the political world. I'm just packing my bags and leaving. That is what I have always done, whether it is my choice or not. Maybe all of what I said before is just my way of trying to cope with the fact that I actually can't do anything.


Every time I think that, I remember how much of a stranger I am to this place even though I lived here when younger, and I came here every summer for 3 years. I have residency here but I am no resident. That is why it is a good thing that I made no crazy rash decisions for anyone else. Whatever I feel like doing, how can I ever follow through? In the end, I will always have to leave.


I wish sometimes that I could really follow through, especially for people like Mr. F. There are others like him who are only tied to this country for money, and they are in great need of it back home. If I could do one good thing for this country, it'd be getting him or someone like him a job somewhere else where they are appreciated and respected. Is there even such a place? 


I know there are some people from the Indian sub-continent who are depressed and angry here. Some of them feel they are the subject of constant racism; that they are treated as inferior. They do their jobs as best as they possibly can with only a promise of money they cannot earn back in their home country. They would go back and continue their lives with their families if they could.

To everything - turn, turn, turn

There is a season - turn, turn, turn

And a time for every purpose under heaven

To me, it's not about women's rights or religion. It's about giving poorer foreigners back their pride. They deserve it because they are the most worthy of praise and yet they get nothing. I know how dramatic it sounds, but every summer and every time I would go back to college it would eat at my soul. I would have dreams of these men and their faces. They were not crying out for my help, but I always felt afterwards that I begged for their forgiveness. I'm so sorry, workers of Saudi, that I have no power to get you out of your positions. I don't even have a job of my own.


Before I get too crazy and emotional, I want to say that one of the best things about Saudi this summer was this blog. Even though I didn't always write things of substance and I rattle on for ages, I loved doing this for myself and the people who read what I wrote. Right now, I feel like I got through the summer in a much more productive and enlightened way than usual. I have regained the drive to write, and that means so much to me. I'm not writing only for academic purposes anymore. I never thought that day would come!


What will happen? I am not the Gypsy in the Desert anymore after tonight, am I? Well, not physically. But in the end, I will always be in the desert. In my mind, I am always alone, watching the rest of the world. I am standing in a sandstorm that constantly beats at me, I am shielding my eyes from the sharp cutting particles and cupping my hands over my ears from the dirt. Things like this don't change. No matter where I am, I'm always in the desert. It just isn't the desert of Saudi Arabia.

A time to gain, a time to lose

A time to rend, a time to sew

A time to love, a time to hate

A time of peace, I swear it's not too late!

NOTE: Lyrics - http://www.stlyrics.com/lyrics/forrestgump/turnturnturntoeverythingthereisaseason.htm

Things That Will Be Missed: the Saudi Mall

I have to admit that when I step into the Kingdom, I immediately become focused on money and materalistic things. That is basically how KSA rubs off on you - it's a capitalistic land of fancy things. Of course I have had the opportunity to appreciate the finer things in life here, but not too fine. No way am I going to Harvey Nichols and spending 3,000 Saudi Riyals on a dress!

The dress was beautiful, though.

The text on the building (towards the left) says "Nights". Cut off: the word for "Ramadan" (i.e. it said "Ramadan Nights")

The picture above describes something in Saudi that I will have fond memories of - food and luxurious malls. Even as a kid living in Makkah, some of the best times were spent at malls! The tall, elongated pyramid is the Faisiliyah tower which contains, on its bottom floors, a fantastic mall. There are no malls in the world like those in Saudi! You cannot see the food in the picture, but I was sitting at a dinner table at an outdoor hotel restaurant when I took this photo. It was for a combination iftaar party-farewell party for a colleague of my mother.

I couldn't take pictures of the hotel or the restaurant because it was a social event and people in Saudi are NOT happy about having their photo taken. I was going to take a picture anyway, but one of the guests at the table advised me not to. That is the thing about rational people - they are irritating because they make sense and their reasoning stops you from doing silly things you enjoy! I appreciate her wisdom, of course, but damn that place was beautiful! And the food...

The iftaar party was wonderful for its food. I ate lamb, and more lamb, and rice. That's what I do when I get to Riyadh - I eat! And I eat A LOT. I eat red meat, drink lots of milk, and basically destroy any chance of a weight loss diet. When I go to the US, I tend to eat more on the vegetarian side, with a hint of chicken or fish here and there. However, I eat badly in the US because I eat a lot of microwaveable garbage or fast food. Here in Saudi, my food is baked, grilled, and fried to perfection. I always feel better here regardless of the health concerns!

The look in my eyes is not a fault of the camera. I channel the devil and devour meat like Satan devours SOULS.

This is a photo of me eating at As-Sorayah restaurant, a Turkish place. I don't have a picture of me eating lamb at the iftaar party, but I have one of me doing it elsewhere, of course! I basically looked the same - I even wore the same abayah! The meat was tender and wonderful in As-Sorayah as it was at the iftaar.

I always end up writing about food (and drink) in Saudi because I think about food a lot in general. I have so many stories about me and food. I believe that I think about food even more than I do about shopping...but I do indeed think about shopping a lot! You would too if you went to malls that looked like...

The interior roof of Granada Mall

As I said, there are no malls in the world like those in Riyadh. Even the rest of the Middle East has a different flavour in their malls. Where else can you go to a place with no changing rooms in the stores or area for single people to linger? However, while these are indeed the malls of muttawas and restrictions, these are also the malls of fabulous stores that sell items at equally fabulous prices when there are sales. It is also a display of the city culture of Saudi.

Interior of Granada Mall

These malls are also wonderful in their decor. It is unique in the sense that there is a Middle Eastern flair that I won't be able to see elsewhere. Some of the decor is simply Saudi, and I'll only experience that when I come back in who knows how long. Those palm trees in the above picture are such a great symbol of Saudi even if they are found in other countries. I always think of Saudi when I see date palms.

Traditional Heritage store in Faisiliyah Mall. I apologise for blurry-ness!

I will definitely miss seeing these heritage stores the most, for sure. There is at least one in every mall, and it is always exquisitely and thoughtfully decorated. Inside you will find, amongst portraits of present and previous Kings, many things you cannot bring on the airplane - including weaponry and armour. As you can also see, this store happens to sell many outfits that are reminiscent of, if not directly made by, bedouin and tribal peoples. The colours and handiwork are phenomenal. You have to hold it to understand. And they always have a smell...a smell of incense and smoke. I don't know how to describe it.

What I love most about that particular store is actually the door to the store itself. Here we see it in all of its glory because it is shut - it was prayer time at the mall, so all of the stores are closed for about half an hour. I remember that day really well and the Isha (evening) prayer because my Mom and I could NOT find the women's prayer room! Women are never forced to go and pray in malls (sometimes the muttawas will get all enraged if the men are not going to the prayer room on time) so many of them were walking up and down the mall or sitting on every bench. We were lost in that crowd of women. Eventually, we found it - the sign was minuscule and the door looked like it was leading to a restricted area.

If the door looked like this, I might have noticed it earlier!!

These specialty stores selling "Arabian" wares are very special to me. While I find the antiques fascinating, the most wonderful thing about the more Arab stores (as opposed to the stuff you can find in England or US like Dorothy Perkins, Debenham's, etc.) are the CLOTHES. Oh, wow, the clothes are fantastic!

Twaila store in Granada Mall, circa 2009 - where I bought my two abayahs.

I wish I had better pictures of the exquisite designs available here. The embroidery, beadwork, and materials are always top notch in these special boutiques for women's clothing. Outside malls, there are boutiques in Riyadh run by female designers that make even better, and more more expensive, clothes for weddings and other festivities. There are also boutiques specifically for men, claiming to have the top designers' thobes and ghutrahs (also known as keffiyehs). I'm talking about Yves Saint Laurent, here! If I had had the chance, I would have definitely gone to these places. My lack of mobility ended up stopping me from doing so. 

However, I will always be glad to have seen these stores within the malls I was able to visit. In Granada Mall, there is a whole "wing" of boutiques of stores with abayahs and galebias (a one piece, long dress). I have on several occassions stopped to look at the beautiful work and thought to myself, "Now that is a dress I'd wear to the Oscars." When/if I ever become a famous actress, I am going right to Riyadh, mark my words! I'd be the (unique) Belle of the Ball.

If this is the kind of crud I would be up against, it wouldn't be that hard!
Image: http://www.blogcdn.com/www.stylelist.com/media/2010/03/sarah-jessica-parker-vera-farmiga-carey-mulligan-oscars2010-590ls030710.jpg

I think that a lot more imagination and daring goes into the clothing here. It's all lace, net, sequins, silk, and gold thread - combined! And let's not forget the crazy colours. It's orange, blue, and green and amazing. Got a problem? Too bad, the women are too busy working it to deal with you right now.

Intricate, over the top MAGIC

Arab women (and men) are never afraid to stand out. I think that's what they do, when they are amongst themselves. Since women and men cannot mix, they show off to the others of their sex at weddings and parties. I think it's a beautiful kind of self-expression, something that only seems "crazy" and "wild" to someone who has been brought up in a stricter, more subdued environment for the entirety of their lives. They are so used to the little black dress or the colours of the season, dictated by God knows. In places of Western freedoms, individuality is not rampant when it comes to style.

In Mauritius, we like showing off our bright side even though the sexes do mix - we wear our colourful, fancy clothes in order to stand out at every wedding. I myself have worn pastel pink to one wedding and then blue and yellow to another! We are part of the "loud and proud" cultures, or at least I say so. We are expected to shine and make the most of the event.

People coming from the outside world are amazed by the display, either calling it "vibrant" or "gaudy." In the US, I have noticed that the only people who like these clothes being worn in their country are those who are either fascinated by different cultures and hence greatly "other" them; or they are envious of a people who are not afraid of showing off and standing out in a crowd. Maybe I am both of either of those myself, even though I spent most of my life in Mauritius. I wonder that sometimes.

I know now more than ever how much of an outsider I am to each country of the world. Instead of having a prejudice based on my place of birth, I have them based on everywhere I have lived and grown. I am all mixed up.

In the end, I realised that my screwed up mind will see things from the outside and I just have to deal with it. One way to look at the places I have lived is through their clothing and food, but also through their shopping centres. This is where tastes are defined (or refined) and where people group together, after all. It is a curse and a blessing to have malls and mall culture - it speaks much of our habits and ourselves.

Indeed, my life has always included malls and shops. I am a consumer like everyone else. But I like to think I buy into the places as well as the stores. I feel like I can do that especially well when I am about to leave. When you leave a place, that is when you realise what you will miss the most, after all.

Note: Several of these pictures are from 2009 and not of this year. I thought I'd be honest about that. What I show in the pictures has not changed too much since then. I had a plate of the same lamb and rice at As-Sorayah this year, too!

Wishful Thinking: A Call to Arms

Yesterday I got some troubling and depressing news about my Alma Mater. Some majors were being cut, and some professors (all of which I knew and have great esteem for) are losing their jobs starting next year.

This blog was meant to be about Saudi Arabia or my life in the past or something. I was supposed to talk for the next few days prior to my departure of Riyadh about what I would miss about Riyadh and staying here during the summer. I am sorry but I cannot follow my plans. Something terrible has happened to me and literally hundreds of people and I need to talk about it.

No, it's not as life-threatening as war or floods or murder. It is not killing people or making them lose their homes. It isn't an act of God or mutilation; nor is it devastating to our basic needs. What it is instead is the destruction of a past; of memories and knowledge that after this year will no longer be. I am sad and depressed and I need to talk about what has happened.

I went to a small liberal arts college for my undergraduate degree and I will never be sorry for it. The education that I got was larger than I am and much, much better. The people I met who taught me didn't read from textbooks or force me to memorise facts. They made me look at facts and opinions and allowed me to form my analysis in a cultured, intelligent way. I was in small classrooms with no more than 20 students at a time, and the majority of the time there were less than 10 students in my classes. Sometimes, there were only 2 students, as it was especially in my senior year. The professors with whom I had the great privilege to listen to were smart, funny, educated, and inspiring.

At this college, I could pursue a degree in anything I wanted but still take a dance class even if it didn't fit my major requirements. I could sit in on a religion class if I were a business major, or a biology class if we were a performing arts major, and it wasn't just by personal choice; we were encouraged to have a great breadth of learning. We were also encouraged to join clubs and be a part of the small, less than 600 students community. We were inspired to be active members of society and take opportunities to work with a diverse population.

What made me appreciate my education the most was that I could email or visit my professors without any barriers. I have dropped in and talked with them during and outside of their office hours. I have had lunch, danced with, acted with, and sung with several of them, even the school's President. The professors could easily become our friends as well as our mentors. It was the best system I could ever have dreamed of.

I was a crappy student. I'm not an idiot, but due to my own shortfalls I made some large mistakes. If I tried harder to figure out my personal problems, I could have been an excellent student, but I didn't. No matter what, my professors were always there for me. Whenever I gave them a chance to become a part of my life, they welcomed me with open arms. They never, ever held a grudge against me when they really could have. I was always able to have a great conversation with any professor, even if I had never had a class with them.

The idea that some of these wonderful people are not going to be there after this academic year actually hurts. I may have graduated and I may be moving on, but I still love that school and the professors who taught me. I will never forget what they have done for me and I owe them a lot. I want future students to go and experience what I had because I treasure it so deeply.

What upsets me even more, possibly the most out of all this, is that the majors that were cut and the professors of those majors are all related to the arts. There will be no more Music major, no more French major and no more Religion major. They are trying to still offer these courses and have them count towards other majors, but students coming to my school for these majors will not be able to concentrate on the area of study that they want. They will have to leave to study at another school or they will have to settle for second best.

I know that the world is in a financial grave right now, with clods of earth being thrown on it as we speak, but it still angers me that the first thing to be cut from a school has to be the arts. In every kind of school, for every age group, the arts are always the first to suffer. Money is taken away, resources become more limited, and students are less encouraged. The Music program at my college, for example was being cut more and more for years, and the major itself was a concentration of the Performing Arts major - but now it is gone altogether.

Is this the fate of all our schools? I think this arts-belittling mentality is a curse brought upon us by everyone in society. The arts are seen as being of little or no importance to a child's education, and they are never encouraged. Parents scoff when their sons and daughters want to be dancers, artists or writers. People ask "but what are you going to do with your life if you major in Literature?" rather than think about the analysis and cultural information such a major brings to a student. Governments think there is no money in the arts so they cut the community programs.

What is wrong with our world? Ever since the divide between science and art was created by some irritating white people "hard science" was seen as more important than anything else. I don't think this divide should have ever existed - look at what the world has become now! Science and art should always work side by side, not separately and I swear until the day I die I will not budge from this point. I am angry to be living in a world where people do not appreciate both and see how they coexist beautifully and naturally.

We need harmony in our lives and in education through the appreciation for both the arts and sciences. Once upon a time, it was through a thorough liberal arts education that a student would be able to gain this, and gain knowledge that would help them become better people as a whole; better citizens of the world. My college used to be one of the few remaining places. Now, it is going the opposite way, on the path of so many others, by cutting programs and professors who are beloved by the students and who teach subjects that are not appreciated enough. It's not just the fault of the school, but of everyone. We do not place enough importance of a holistic education. Instead, schools are looked at in terms of money and business. Society as a whole looks down on any kind of existence that does not involve making a lot of money. And this is every society, not just American society!

My school was not a business when I got there. It was a place of learning and development. Now, after this year, students who go there are not going to go to the same college I graduated from. Now, I am left here, and I will forever sing for my sister, and to the name we love. It is the name of a college that is slowly disappearing.

Things That Will Be Missed: Mr. F

Today I am writing from my heart. The person who I am writing about, who shall be known here as Mr. F, has no idea that I am writing this. I wonder if he will ever read it - he does have the link to this blog...

Mr. F is from Pakistan. Like many men from the Indian Sub-Continent, he was sent here to work by his family so that he could send money back home. He is currently making money for his sisters' dowries. He wants them to have good husbands. There are no good job opportunities for him back in his hometown.

Mr. F is treated like a servant by certain people, but like a good friend by others. I have known him for about 3 years, but it was only this summer that we became more than acquaintances. Mr. F, you see, is my driver. Every weekend he takes my parents and I to the aforementioned Carrefour. He has also taken my Mom, sister, and I to malls like Faisiliyah or Burj Mamlakah (aka Kingdom Tower) so that we could deplete our money of frivolous things. Mr. F has never complained once or made anything we did hsi business.

Last year, when my sister was in Riyadh with me, he took us after our shopping trips to buy the most delicious and fresh Tameez bread, which we enjoyed in the car on the trip back. He wouldn't allow us to pay for it. It amazes me that he actually wanted to help us, but what did we ever do for him? Sure, we paid him well for his services, but we weren't really close. His small acts of kindness meant a lot to me. I began to see him as a decent man.

For a while, however, I couldn't really muster the courage to get to know him as a person rather than as a driver. It's hard for me to strike up a conversation with someone new when other people are around. My social anxiety is not as harsh as it is for many other people I know, but it still exists. I resigned myself to the fact that I couldn't really talk to him that much unless we were alone, and how shifty does that sound? I decided to show my appreciation with kindness and politeness. That's all I knew how to do.

One day, I had a surprise. I was alone in the car with him for a brief moment. It was during this summer. I decided to ask him a question. I asked him, "Why are you here?" How does a young man like him choose to come to Riyadh? Well, I learned that he didn't exactly choose. He keeps coming back, though, for the pay. Whether he likes what he is doing or not, he stays to send his money back home.

Since I asked him that question, I was able to feel closer to him. He wasn't just my driver anymore, he was beginning to become my friend. Don't get silly ideas, guys - that is all that he has stayed, I assure you! Sometimes we texted about silly things like the World Cup (we both were happy when Spain won! Ole!) and sometimes he would call and tell me about the goings on of his job.

I was desperate for gossip of the "outside world" of Riyadh. I barely leave this compound, so his conversation proved to be entertaining, enjoyable, and informative as to the goings-on.

I learned that Mr. F was a smart, capable man who could speak several languages as well as deal with current technologies. I learned this from those phone calls, but also from car rides where it was just my Mom, Mr. F, and me. He seemed more easy-going around women (and he did tell me that all of his friends in Saudi were mostly female. He also told me not to get funny ideas!) There is a question: Why was he a driver for us lazy shoppers if he was a smart guy? Couldn't he be doing something else with his life?

I learned that his obligations to his family are more important than his own happiness. His sisters' dowries and happy marriages are worthwhile to him. How many people in this world are like this? Sure, he used to complain to me about his job from time to time, but he was still doing it. The money he was making was meaningful.

I know many people who are taking certain jobs because of the money. However, they are not making money for anyone but themselves. They become lawyers, doctors, etc only for the benefit of having a beautiful widescreen TV and shiny cars.

Mr. F doesn't take a well-paying job for this selfish reason. He's actually spending years of his life to help his family back home. To some people, the idea of sacrificing years of their lives to other people is like martyrdom. To other people, like Mr. F, it is expected of them. Is that a good thing; an honourable thing? To be honest, I don't know.

Back home for him isn't so great, either, from what I understand. Pakistan is going through some rough times right now with the flooding, and it is a country that is scrutinised especially by the West for being corrupt and a "terrorist mill" of sorts. It has been so easy for the rest of the world to forget that Pakistan has bred more than just "terrorists" but also real people who love and care for their families. Mr. F is definitely one of them. He is an individual like any other and he is from this same "terrorist" country. I wish more people could understand this.

Mr. F is basically my only friend is Saudi right now. I'm going to miss having the ability to call or him for no reason. He is a funny, intelligent guy who is sacrificing so much. I don't know many noble people like him. He doesn't act noble, or like a big man, but I know that he is. He is humble, and religious, and loyal to his friends. If I don't get to see him again, this post will mean a lot to me.

Mr. F, I wish I could tell everyone your name so that they could know who you were, so that they could say to you what I cannot say to you over the phone: that you are an awesome friend and a good man. No matter what you think of yourself, you are doing something right. I know through things that you have told me that you truly care about your friends and family. I can't say that about a lot of people. The day you told me that I was your friend, I was so happy.

Thank you, Mr. F. As well as my dear parents, I will really, really miss you when I leave.


NOTE: Please, if you have the means, do donate* to help the victims of the Pakistan floods.
*There are certainly other ways to donate.

Things That Will Be Missed: Carrefour at Granada Mall

The sun in shining, and the heat permeates this Riyadh night. As I fast these days of Ramadan, I rarely leave the house during the week; only to pick up a thing or two at the compound's supermarket. There are days when I barely leave my own room, mostly only to break fast with my parents. I have truly become a hermit in the desert! Maybe I should think of changing my blog title...

But here is the real scoop: in less than two weeks, 12 days to be exact, I will be on my way to the United States. I am leaving this physical desert to another place, another time zone, another climate. No more hot suns, no more abayah, no more days indoors. I will be thrust into a new life without my parents and with complete strangers.

I have focused a lot on the craziness of Saudi Arabia, and the troubles in my heart. I want to share with you over the next few days things that I will truly miss about the Kingdom and my time here. Although I spent most of it wasting away, there are certain things I will not get back until I return; if I do return. Who knows what the future has in store for me? So here is what I will give you today: an image-heavy post from yours truly, with much love, about:

Carrefour: the Supermarket of Granada

First, I must show the bread selection to you. As a Mauritian, it is the most important food item EVER. We get fresh bread every morning for breakfast and that makes our day! The US definitely has the worst bread! I wonder how Americans deal, sometimes. Riyadh, however, does not disappoint.

The bakery: A man makes fresh Arabic bread every day. It is still hot as it enters plastic bags for selling.

More of the bakery and breads, seeping into the cakes section, with some view of ice cream.

"Special Bread" basically refers to bread crumbs, and then Filipino and Portuguese bread, both of which have a smaller market here.

I am not really a cake person, and as I have said to several of my American friends, I cannot understand the obsession with cake. However, everything in Carrefour would make my mouth water as I walked past - ESPECIALLY during Ramadan!

Cakes! They look lovely, but are usually sickly sweet.

Frozen cakes from abroad that are more likely to make my mouth water!

The frozen food aisle was probably the best I have ever seen, containing many foods that saved my life here by becoming my lunch!

The samousas that my parents and I microwave for random pangs of hunger. Yes - microwave! Samousas!

While the displays of Carrefour are not usually well thought out...

The industrial aisles of food and cold tiles are reminiscent of those in other countries, but the people are not.

...the area near the spices, nuts and fruits always proved to be more impressive.

These displays are put up usually right before and during Ramadan.

The choice we have of things to drink is on a completely different level to anywhere else. I am guessing it is due to the crazy heat and dryness of the desert.

Remember these?

JUICE! LOTS AND LOTS OF JUICE!

I will have to admit that the US and its supermarkets (like Target, Walmart, etc.) are much better in terms of clothing than here in Riyadh, but when I get a chance, I love to see what they have for various Engrish findings as well as wacky colours.

CLOTHES!

But what if I want to name my breasts something else? And uh, fish blouse?

Poor girl. Poor deformed fashion failure.

Most women buy clothes from places other than supermarkets, but I think this is the place for those on a tight budget. I know when my shoes broke, I bought an emergency pair from Carrefor. The pair that broke were ALSO from here. I'm a terrible judge of shoe quality, and I repeat my errors. I must be dense!

And what would women do here without a good scarf or bag?

Abayahs for those not willing to do the whole "boutique" thing.

Abayahs are actually quite expensive in abayah stores. If you are only visiting for a little while, or you do not have much cash, this could possibly be the place you would get one. To be honest, I didn't think they looked bad at all!

Blurred picture of the two best abayahs (in my opinion)

Detail of the abayah on the right

The last picture I took was this one. I am in love with the colours and prints of Arabian kaftans.

Kaftans! The most comfortable item of clothing. Also: Winnie the Pooh?

Whenever I am away from Riyadh, I always think about how much I miss the food. I don't eat as well in the US, with all of its garbage fast food and cheap supermarket garbage. Everything here is seeped in as much, or even more, sugar and fat, but the difference here is that Saudi's imported and local food just tastes better. I avoid American food like the plague and go for European or Arab stuff.

Carrefour makes a lot of foreign food available for shoppers, making it a "posh" supermarket, I guess. Whenever I want things that aren't so snazzy, I just go to the aforementioned compound supermarket. I would show you pictures of it, but that would give too much away about my living situation here. I have a home to protect!

I'm going to miss Carrefour a lot, maybe even the most. I loved going for a coffee right afterwards at the adjacent Cafe La Wien, and then following it with an hour or so of shopping. I can't even do it one last time because it is Ramadan and the mall itself is closed.

My days at Granada Mall are just about over. I will have one more grocery trip before I go. I have to admit, it's gonna be quite a shame to leave it behind.

Mother Nature is a Warrior

Let me tell you a little about how much Mother Nature hates my guts.

One day, I decided that I wanted to make chocolate chip oatmeal cookies. I found a recipe online that was satisfactory, then began the hot trudge through the burning sun to the compound's supermarket. Once there, I found that they did not have the chocolate chips that I needed, but had a very sturdy-looking bar of cooking chocolate that I thought I could cut into pieces. It was hard as a rock, and I thought, "This is going to be insanely hard to cut, isn't it?" I decided to give it a go anyway. I knocked on the bar on chocolate as if it were a small door. It was solid.

I forced myself back into the heat. I walked my strange, roundabout route past the piles and piles of sand and accompanying trenches to get to my villa. Remember how I complained about those? They have gotten even deeper now, and the piles of rocks and dry, brown dirt are even bigger.

Imagine this everywhere you try to walk.  EVERYWHERE.

It is dry, it is hot, it is insane. It is insane because I am insane to walk in that horrible sun when I could have decided not to use the damn chocolate chips and instead make plain oatmeal cookies. However, I did what I did, and turning my key two times around in my lock (for extra security, I guess) I push the burning metal door and practically leap inside to airconditioned bliss.

I walk to the kitchen, opening my abayah and shedding it at the nearest chair. I bring my bag to the kitchen counter, take it out, and...wow. Remember how I knocked on the chocolate bar earlier? Well, now it was basically to mushy to rap my knuckles on. It has already started to melt in the intense heat. In order to have it fit for baking, I threw it into the fridge and hoped for the best.

There are two things that I learned that day:

1. Never try to cut baking chocolate into little pieces to make your own chocolate chips. It is DAMN NEAR IMPOSSIBLE.

2. Riyadh is really, really, really, really, really, really hot. Do not let anyone underestimate the heat. It is REALLY hot and even more dry.

Yesterday, something else happened that is very similar to the baking chocolate story - it even involves chocolate! My parents asked me if I wanted anything from the store last night. They were going to take the walk themselves. I did not go with them, but asked them to buy me my favourite Guylian shell chocolates because I have been seriously craving them.

When they got back from the store, the chocolates (which used to melt in your hand when you barely touched them) became...this:

Is that a seahorse? Or...a shell? I cannot tell anymore! Poor, poor chocolatey creatures.

Again, a trip to the freezer was all that could be done. Soon, my misshapen creatures were thrown into my mouth for my oral enjoyment. They still tasted wonderful, but isn't it a shame? And this happened at night, guys.

The weather in Riyadh is not fun to deal with at all. I like the sun when I go to the pool, but that trip to and from the pool is horrible. In the end, it might not even be the sun and the heat that gets to you. It is a combination of those two things plus the dry air that sucks moisture out of every part of you, maybe even your soul. I surely feel like my soul has been sucked out of me when I go out for a short walk.

No amount of vaseline can soften your lips. No cream can stop your arms, legs, or back from itching. Your eyes are dry, your mouth is dry, everything is DRY. And HOT. When I baked those cookies, it felt like the whole house was an oven and no air conditioner could blast enough cold to make it cool. And dont' forget: no skin softener can stop your fingers, toes and heels from becoming peeled. There's not a single way out of it.

You have to be on constant skin patrol here. You have to take precautions every time you go outside, sometimes wearing more clothes than you would like just to ensure you do not dry up like a prune. When I get back inside, and I feel like a shower, I have to scrub my skin with soft body scrubs and foot scrubs in order to get rid of that dry skin. If the scrubs are too harsh, they dry up my skin, too. The battle against the dryness and heat is a tough one!

Every day, the weather chips away at you, little by little. But just when you think that it is getting bearable, and you are actually enjoying yourself despite that weather, Mother Nature's Saudi Arabian division sends out her army in full force.

Yes: I am talking about the sandstorm.

Image by Raya Wolfsun

Damn these things! Once, when I was just about ready to leave the gym after a 2 hour workout, I came face to face with a sandstorm. The people at the sign-in desk told me not to go out. I went out anyway, and I am not even sure I can describe that feeling of hot wind that pounded at my body.

All I could see was a yellow-brown hue. I covered my mouth and wore my sunglasses, but breathing was still difficult. The sand entered my eyes and caused them to itch. My gritted teeth felt small particles between them, like I was crushing tiny bits of glass. My lips, which were already dry, were numb and painful at the same time. I rushed as quickly as I could over sand and rock to get to my villa. No one was outside except me.

When I got inside, I was dizzy and my eyes burned. I drank a lot of water, and took my allergy medication because of the itch. The electricity went off inside the house. I was all alone - no internet, no TV, no air conditioning. I took a shower in the dark and sat reading a book until everything came back to normal.

What a miserable day. I hated it.

Oh, who am I kidding? I loved it. 

It was scary, but exhilarating! The sandstorm brought into light my survival skills and desire for adventure. It has been such a long time since I'd felt like something had actually happened to me in Riyadh. The sandstorm took me out of the monotony of my life and made it exciting again.

How can I really say that it was a miserable day when the sandstorm actually gave me a problem to solve? I had to make the house safe in case of electrical surges, had to shower in complete darkness, had to call my parents with my cell phone, which was dying (I stink at remembering to charge my phone!)...I was woken up; forced awake by the attack Mother Nature had planned in her vendetta against me.

In your FACE, hateful Mother Nature! Your plan totally backfired. Instead, you gave me another experience in my little book of life. Nice try.

Ramadan 101: Fasting is Caring

To all, Muslims or not: Happy Ramadan! Ramadan Kareem! As I write, it is the first night of Ramadan here in Saudi, as we have seen the new moon here in our desert skies. At sunrise, I, amongst many other Muslims, will begin the first day of fasting.

Image of new moon: http://www.starrynighteducation.com/stargazer/images/1557OldMoon-NewMoon.jpg

My lovely friend and fellow singer Anna (who is an extremely talented creative writer, I must say) asked me to write about Ramadan, the holy month of Islam. I thought carefully about it for about 3 seconds and then decided that it would be a great idea.

To give you a rundown of the basics, Ramadan is the 9th month of the Islamic calendar and is considered to be the holiest month, as it contains Layla-tul-Qadr; the night where the Prophet Muhammad first received verses of the Qur'an by the angel Gabriel (or Jibreel as he is known in Arabic). As the Qur'an is considered by Muslims to be the word of God, this month is extremely important. It is essentially the start of Islam as we know it. It's when Muhammad's life totally changed, and his lovely wife, Khadeja (obviously lovely for her own character as well as due to her being my namesake) was there by his side, believing in his unbelievable calling until the end of her days.

For many people, Ramadan is the time of year where repentance is necessary, as well as deep thought of Allah (God). My Mom always told me that this was the month where I should ask Allah for forgiveness and for Heaven. Since I was little, I have heard that it is the month where your prayers are worth much more, you are rewarded several times more than you would be for good deeds, and you are purified during the act of fasting.

Fasting in Ramadan means that you eat nothing between the hours after sunrise until sunset. Sunset marks one of the 5 daily prayers that Muslims are obligated to pray, and it is at the call of prayer (or athan) that Muslims break their fast, traditionally with a date. Even when you are allowed to eat again, you are not supposed to stuff your face with whatever food is near; no, you are supposed to practice restraint and thanks first and foremost. It is after completing the sunset prayer (called maghrib) that people usually have a dinner or feast called the iftaar.

Until sunrise of the next day, people are permitted to eat whatever they like. Right before sunrise, people who are preparing to fast eat a meal known as suhur, or sehri (which is what it is called in Mauritius). At sunrise, those who have the intention of fasting need to stop eating and perform one of the other 5 prayers of the day, the sunrise prayer known as fajr. It is at that time when we are no longer allowed to eat or drink.

Some people are exempt from fasting: pregnant and nursing women, extremely sick (physically or mentally) people of any gender, the elderly, small children who have not yet reached puberty, and women who are menstruating. People who do not have "lasting conditions" (this includes pregnancy as well as children) are required to make up those days whenever they are capable by fasting outside the month. They can also provide meals for the needy. I have never provided the meals so I have to be honest: I am not entirely sure how it works. From what I have gathered, you are meant to provide meals for every day missed; enough meals to last a poor person a whole day. I think that makes sense, but I wonder how much food is enough...

For those who have never fasted, you may ask: is this hard? Well, in my opinion, yes! It's not easy for me, the girl who is pigging out right now on chocolate covered espresso beans and who normally drinks a zillion bottles of water a day, to not eat for hours of the day, especially the daylight hours. I adore food, and constantly munch on it all the time. However, I have to say that Ramadan makes you appreciate food a lot more. It is difficult to keep your mind off of it, but what ends up happening is that you spend all of your energy cooking for when you can finally eat!

Sure, this may have been made before Ramadan, but these oatmeal cookies I made, as well as the homemade Saudi Champagne, were simply practice!

Something else that makes fasting easier is thinking about why you are doing it, for those who are a little more spiritual. It seems like something that can't be good for you, but for many Muslims it's a chance to do some good in God's eyes as well as better yourself as a person. A lot of people are pleased to do this because it is what they believe God wants, and they are happy to do something for God. In my eyes, fasting is a way of concentrating on other things besides my terrible gluttony. I can't eat, so I will diversify the use of my energy, and not just to cook like I said above. I actually tend to read a lot more while I am fasting as well as write to take my mind off of things. Fasting also make you think more about the plight of people who really cannot eat for many hours of the day; it forces us to sympathise with those who are less fortunate. It is easier to think about the social realities of the poor and hungry.

I also find it easier to focus on spiritual matters. I don't know what it is about fasting, or about Ramadan, but it becomes a lot easier for me to think about the good side of Islam that I like to keep track of; all the values that are truly apparent in all major religions, like the idea of being good to one another. I think it's the nature of Ramadan to make people want to be kinder and better, and in general to allow more spirituality and heart into their lives. Think of it as the Christmas spirit that you see in movies, but instead of it being for one day or week, it's really for a whole 30 days or so. People are giving food to each other, doing favours for one another, and generally taking it a lot easier on each other, because some people believe acting violently or hateful in the month of Ramadan is a lot worse, and can even make your day of fasting not count.

Ramadan in Saudi is a lot different than in Mauritius. I don't really know what to say about Ramadan in the US because, well, I only experienced it at college and where I went wasn't exactly full of Muslims. In Saudi, people who stay at home (i.e. me and some other women) tend to sleep the day away and stay up all night. This means that you spend only a few waking hours fasting. In a way, that totally defeats the purpose of fasting if you want to take it seriously. However, it is also a coping mechanism during the summer because WOW it is getting hot here. It's 42 degrees Celsius...at night. In the dark. Can you imagine? No wonder people want to sleep the hottest hours of the day away!

However, some people who stay at home are not so lucky. They need to wake up relatively early in order to do that cooking I mentioned earlier! Some of the best iftaar dishes take long hours of preparation and care. For example, making stuffed grape leaves takes a long time and effort to stuff and wrap and boil, especially if you do it all on your own (which isn't usually the case in most homes I know of). It takes a lot of effort, but boy, is it worth it to know you created a beautiful looking (and smelling!) dish even when you couldn't do any taste testing! If it is a group effort, it's even better.

In Mauritius, people who stay home have the same "job" - making sure that the food is iftaar. However, people also take the time to travel around the island visiting relatives they haven't seen in a while. Indeed, Ramadan becomes the month of socialising and reforming old bonds for a lot of people. Visitors do not come empty-handed, either - they usually come bearing food that they have prepared during the day so that their hosts have extra food for their iftaar. Also, people tend to have their iftaar at the homes of different relatives every night, really making sunset something of a religious meeting time.

Speaking of meetings and social events, I have to talk about actual iftaar parties. Some people will go to great lengths to create the best iftaars their guests have ever seen, with fancy decorations and food ordered, cooked, and served in a more celebratory atmosphere. Some people, after the maghrib prayer is over, will turn on the TV, blast the music, and make the feast a feast! There could be dancing, singing, party games, the works. There are people opposed to this because they feel it is unIslamic, or that it takes away from hours of contemplation. The people who have these iftaar parties argue that there should be no problem with celebrating the month of Ramadan the way they enjoy celebrating the most - with a bash people will more than likely remember for a while.

I don't know if iftaar parties are right or wrong. To be honest, I'm not much of a party person myself so I'd rather just eat with my friends and family, then get back to whatever it is I want to be doing, like playing a video game of reading a book. I kind of like the idea that people who like each other are spending time together though, and who knows, some families really need that time together to reconnect. Doesn't playing Super Mario Bros. Wii with the whole family sound like fun*?

I have to be honest, I look forward to Ramadan with the family and my Muslim friends, online or offline. The most important thing to me is that it brings the Muslim community together. No matter what our differences in religion, we're all fasting together and cooking together and eating together when we can. I think that is mostly ignored by some people who seem to think that Ramadan is all about acting more religious than you really are.

The true spirit of Ramadan really is like what Christmas is supposed to be - goodwill towards our fellow man. Sure, we can discuss or ponder religious and spiritual questions, but Ramadan, and the nature of fasting itself, makes all of us fight toward a higher goal or perfecting ourselves. It isn't just ourselves as individuals, either - it's about us as a group of people; us as Muslims, dealing with the difficulty of fasting together and eventually reaching the point where we can break the fast and enjoy food again together. Then, as an extension, it becomes about us as members of humanity as a whole; for we remember those who suffer in lives that are harder than we would ever imagine. We don't just become good people for the sake of other Muslims. I believe that we'd be forgetting Islam if that is what we ended up doing.




*No, no it doesn't. Not to me!