Arabian Autographs: A Privileged Life
Angela Townsend tells of the unhappy lot of all too many “foreigners’’ who work in Saudi Arabia.
As a westerner in Saudi Arabia, I am indeed privileged. While many of those around me see their wives and children once every two years – if they’re lucky – in order to earn a fraction of my less-than-extraordinary salary, I have my husband and baby beside me at the end of each day.
When homesickness strikes I know I can fly home any time I want, while my Philippino colleagues can only dream of such a luxury. The subcontinent workers also toil long and tiring hours in searing heat and dangerous situations. Many can be seen working in the middle of the motorways, trimming and shaping the trees while vehicles speed past at Formula One speeds.
At the nursery and preschool where I work I recently expressed my delight when a Philippino assistant told me she was a new mother to a six-week-old son. My delight quickly turned to disbelief and then sorrow for this young woman when she told me her baby was in the care of her mother in the Philippines, as they had not been able to get a visa issued for him.
These are some of the huge sacrifices those from less affluent countries make in order to provide a better life for their families so far away. Many men never marry because no woman wants to be married to someone who cannot take his wife with him. Family visas are only issued to those with professional qualifications.
Almost everyday I read in the paper about a ‘missing’ employee complete with warnings not to employ this person as he has fled his employ and is now an ‘illegal’. It doesn’t take much to wonder how atrocious the working and living conditions were to make a man so desperate.
While many Saudis are caring, considerate employers, stories abound of the mistreatment of maids and nannies – from rapes to beatings, to the withholding of salaries for many months. There are laws in place that are supposed to protect employees from unjust treatment, however, in reality they exist on paper only. The Saudi reigns superior and knows it. He knows just how far to push his luck.
Occasionally, I read of Saudi employers who do everything they possibly can to help those who have served them so well. One family employed a personal nurse for their maid of twenty years who was suffering from cancer. They also paid for her entire medical expenses. Even in the west, this would be a rare occurrence.
Housing is a problem for many low-paid workers and they usually band together in tiny apartments in order to afford the ever-increasing rents. This leads to unhygienic and depressing conditions for those who work six - and even seven - day weeks.
A hairdresser at a western housing compound has every second Friday off to do her laundry and other essential tasks. She has to stay in the salon even though it is unusual for her to have more than three clients a day.
Health care is often denied those who can’t afford it or those who are in the country without the required papers. Many are employed illegally and paid very low salaries, often none at all, for board.
I read in a local newspaper about one woman from Africa who went into labour and was having complications at home. A doctor was called but as soon as he discovered she had no documents, he refused to treat her and left. The baby subsequently died. The doctor claimed he was afraid for his medical licence if he helped the woman and her unborn child, which speaks volumes for the society. Obviously one’s job and money take higher priority over an ‘outdated’ Hippocratic Oath.
Many of my students have maids, nannies and drivers. They are often the ones to wake the children in the morning, feed and dress them, before delivering them to school. Meanwhile, the parents will not see their offspring until after 2pm.
These carers spend years looking after their precocious charges, only to be blamed when the shebaab (teenaged boys) turn out like their fathers – driving fast cars and harassing girls via the popular Bluetooth technology.
Even the Saudi women beggars must lead a privileged life as, when offered work by Saudi samaritans, they turn it down flat, saying they can earn a great deal more by begging – made a lot less embarrassing by the everyday disguise (abaya, hijab and veil). These beggars are a common sight at traffic lights on a Friday when Muslims are at their most generous on their way to the mosque for prayer.
I am indeed one of the privileged visitors of Saudi Arabia. This is reinforced by the sad sights I see and the poignant stories I hear every day.
