“Excuse me, sir. You've left a bag”
I turned and returned to the counter where the assistant who
had packed my bags for me was holding the LuLu carrier bag that I had – indeed –
forgotten at arm’s length toward me.
I thanked them out of courtesy and retrieved my shopping.
As they passed me the bag they added:
“Don’t forget your Snickers!”
The conversation was surprising. Not because it was conducted
in near perfect English, nor that a person in the, frankly, rather selfish
Saudi Arabia had chosen to help me.
It was shocking because the staff member was a woman.
After two months in Saudi Arabia, she was the first woman to speak
to me.
I’d had a crisis of confidence as I chose an aisle to queue
at. It was Tuesday, mid-afternoon, and it seemed that many of the cash desks
were staffed by women. Women working the tills. Women packing the bags. Given
that men and women are not allowed to mix or interact, I had held back joining
a queue until I had seen another lone male being served further down the line
of tills. Throughout the transaction, neither spoke to me. They were quick,
efficient and organised. But neither made any attempt to make any contact with
me. It was as if I was not there.
Until I forgot the bag.
As the bag packer passed it to me, we made fleeting eye contact.
Although only her eyes were visible through a post box slit, I swear that she
was smiling.
I recounted this tale to my boss K. He was as surprised as
me. He’s been in Khobar on/off for years but reckons that he had only had one
conversation with a woman.
And the thought that she gave slight, implied and possible
smile made my day. It showed that beneath the covering, her culture and social
conditioning she was as human as me.
And that was that…
Except, last Monday a woman walked into my office with a
male chaperone. We often get strangers walking in. They are always lost and
searching for directions. They always look me up and down and converse in Arabic
with A and AK who work alongside me. After some blunt, guttural banter that
usually sounds like an argument, they leave.
Last Monday was different. A stood up, spoke with both the
woman and the younger male she was with (he can’t have been more than 20) and
brought them into my office. I was introduced to the woman and informed that
she wanted to have a meeting with me.
She was soliciting…
No. Not like that!
You dirty minded, filthy, heretic, shameless, godless, Western stereotypes!
She was soliciting for business. She owns and runs an
advertising agency. So I had a conversation with her. Her English was good. She
assured me that it would be fine to converse and that she would understand. But
it turns out that my English is fast, though. I still needed A to stay to
translate.
This reminded me of two conversations from my days back in
The Magic Kingdom. An Italian manager once berated me for speaking far too
fast. He said that he understood English thoroughly but my accent was too
strong and I jumbled my words together…
The second person who complained was from Los Angeles. We
were on our way to a meeting where I would introduce her to a district manager
to talk through initiatives or summat. It went something like this:
LA Woman – “You know, you tire me out.”
Me – “Eh?”
LA Woman – “I don’t know where your accent is from but you
talk really fast. Too fast.”
Me – “OK. I’m from London. My accent is bland English. I don’t think that I speak that fast.
Not in comparison to some.”
LA Woman – “You’re doing it again. Slow down”
I tried to imagine that I was from Bristol...
Me – “OK. I will try. To slow down”
We reached the room where the meeting was being held…
Me – “Megan. This is Sean. He’s from Newcastle. He is a
Geordie. You may think I speak fast… er… Best of luck.”
I left them to it. She looked perplexed, confused and
utterly knackered when she returned to my desk.
Back to Saudi.
In short, the company that my female visitor works for have
received an order from me. Not because she is a woman. Not because I am trying
to be a rebel. They got the order based on them being in a position to supply
the goods I need at a competitive price.
Later in the week she phoned me. We chatted and agreed some
more detail. She kept giggling. Maybe the legendary Shabbs “phone voice” was
working its magic – yet again – or, maybe I was talking to fast… who knows?
The whole experience surprised me. It was refreshing and
exciting to witness and be part of.
It's not illegal for women to work over here. I believe that it is becoming increasingly common. I have seen women working but have never had an interaction with them. Indeed, I recall seeing two women recoil when a descending lift stopped at their floor. Although clearly wanting to go in the same direction, they would not get into the lift presumably because there were men inside. And, although it may be legal, women are walking thin lines. Much of the law is open to interpretation based on circumstance. Business or not. I do not know how it would fair for a Saudi woman to be seen initiating a meeting with an unmarried European man.
My predecessor had an ugly encounter with
the Religious Police (yes… google it. There are quasi authorised people acting
to police adherence to Islamic code out here... Like The Taliban had in Afghanistan). Stuart was having a cigarette
outside a shopping centre. His arms with near full tattoo sleeves were exposed.
He was tackled and would have been dragged away to be whipped if staff from the
shop he was working with had not intervened, distracted them enough to allow
him to run and hide in the shop. The idea of a woman not only conducting a
meeting but initiating it may be beyond the pale for many. Catch the wrong
person on the wrong day at the wrong time, I dread to think what could happen
to her. I hope for her sake that she and her family are well connected!
Saudi Arabia is a country full of contradictions. I was
talking with K last week about the country and how we are living through a
fascinating period in its history. It’s natural and religious conservatism is being exposed to more progressive, western influences. It is almost as if the 80’s
like economic transition that the country is experiencing resulting in economic
growth, consumer spending and individualism is meeting a 50’s like youth
revolution where the kids are demanding far more attention, recognition and freedom. Daddy-o.
Again, the perpetual question of whether women should be
allowed to drive has come back to the fore in both local and international
media. Within days of an apparent proclamation that the government were
proposing to allow women over thirty to drive in time (hah!… viva la revolution!),
it was being dismissed as social media propaganda by the same government
department. They are not proposing that women would be able to drive but that
it isn't really outlawed anyway it’s just that women choose not to… (When you
experience the driving in Saudi, this makes some sense! That all choose not to
is a little far-fetched, though).
This was announced around the same time as the government
decided to beef up punishments for Saudi’s travelling to Syria to support ISIS
by deeming all none believing, atheist, and heretics as terrorists. This allows
them to be punished by 30+ year prison sentences or death. On one hand this
sounds fine; the state is showing it’s hand to those wanting to join the fight
and demonstrating the risks that they are taking should they return or lose. On
the other hand, it’s pretty heavy handed. All non-Sunni Muslims are now labelled
as atheist… and – by default - terrorist.
Think it through. That includes me.
Go look up Amnesty International to take a look at how the
legal system can work over here. There will be abuse.
But, it feels as if change is inevitable. US radio stations broadcast
over the eastern province pumping out 80’s AOR hits. Youths forego traditional
dress. Logo’s abound on tee shirts and tops. The malls are full of western
retailers.
Female TV newscasters and weather girls are on the TV,
though when one based in London dared to go on air with her hair uncovered, TV
executives were forced to resign.
OK, I am yet to visit the Western province closer to the two
Holy cities, so I am possibly getting a distorted, jaundiced view of the apparent
progress but the country does not feel like I was expecting from the research I conducted about life before I came. It seems more open and free than I expected.
Not that I would want to stretch it or take too many risks.
Today, I walked the Corniche to take in the
sun. Not one of the woman that I passed or saw made eye contact with me. All
were fully covered. A very few had their faces showing. It was the usual lines
of Ninja’s with post box eyes.
Change may be coming. But I am not going to see it in my
time here.
Real change – and gender equality - is still many years
away.
…
…
…
Oh. Now, not that I want to steal other’s stories and tales
but K let slip to me last week that he had a short period in the early 1980’s
managing The Vapors.
THE VAPOR’S!!!!
Yeah!
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