Open Writing

My new teaching career at the preschool is proving to be a wonderful outlet for making friends. I have struck up a particularly close friendship with a Lebanese teacher in the nursery, Monique (not her real name), who has fallen for my baby son Faris.

Faris and I were invited to her house the other day after school and spent the afternoon drinking coffee in the warm ‘winter’ sun while her Eritrean housemaid prepared our meal – Chinese noodles with chicken and vegetables. As Monique’s husband works from home, we all sat down together to a late lunch/early dinner.

Their small villa is one of six in a compound, surrounded by other, mainly Lebanese, families. While Monique’s family is Muslim, her immediate neighbours on one side are Christian and have an enourmous, beautifully decorated tree in their lounge room to prove it.

Monique’s part-time Filipino driver took us and her two children to a local department store – Al Sadhan - frequented by Saudis. I didn’t see another Westerner there as most tend to stick to the larger malls where the familiar names of Debenhams, Marks & Spencer, Early Learning Centre and Pumpkin Patch abound. However, I am always seeking a bargain and was thrilled to discover two floors of discount items – clothing, shoes, towels, toys and more.

We shopped through the two evening prayers (this store does not turf everyone onto the streets during prayer time like most) and even spent an hour in the children’s indoor amusement park. Monique’s children enjoyed a couple of rounds on the rollercoaster, ferris wheel and bumper cars before we finally called it a night.

Monique’s driver started on his way to deliver me home at nine. He expertly navigated the teeming highway traffic and skirted three vehicle accidents. Halfway home, flashing lights and an intermittent siren brought my attentions to the back window where an enormous four-wheel-drive charged at high speed towards us, creating its own fast lane. Immediately behind it was a black Mercedes with warning lights flashing – royalty was on the move.

My driver forced our car into traffic on our right and both vehicles ploughed onwards never braking and, like a Mexican wave, sent a stream of vehicles swerving over the white line. The leader vehicle for royals stops for nothing and will crush anything in its path, or so I have heard.

My friend told me of the time she was at the Kingdom shopping mall with her two young children and her visiting mother. They were all entering the car at the pickup area (how appropriate) when a note with a phone number was thrown into the car. This is a common way for Saudi men to meet, or talk to, women.

My friend immediately crumpled the paper and threw it onto the street, to the indignation of the man who had tossed it into the car. “How insulting”, he blustered, “do you not have any respect?”

She quickly asked her driver to leave and they sped away from the mall. A short distance later they saw flashing lights behind them and were horrified to find they were being chased. Monique said she turned paler than white when she saw that the vehicle of their pursuers bore the royal insignia. Suddenly she was worried for her family’s safety.

Meanwhile her mother, in a heightened state of nervousness, got a fit of the giggles which started Monique off. She said they were so frightened they couldn’t stop laughing, even though she knew the laughing would only lead her pursuers on even more. Thankfully, the car eventually gave up the chase and left them alone.

Living in a foreign country usually means there is a surprise waiting just around the corner – welcome or otherwise. However, of the countries I have lived in I have decided, “expect the unexpected” would be the perfect tourism slogan for the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia.