books and gelato, a match made in heaven

Is there anything more blissful than a bowl of gelato and a book? NO!!! 

I just came across a bookstore in my explorations of Nisantisi on foot. Knowing my weakness for books, I contemplated not going in, for a full 4 minutes, outside the store, weighing out the pros and cons of going in vs. not going in.  Going in won that match. My  resistance lasted 20 seconds, my decision further compelled by my lie that I will buy only a book or two. I came out 20 minutes later with 9 books.

Elif Safak--The Gaze, The Bastard of Istanbul, The Forty Rules of Love

Orhan Pamuk--Snow, My name is Red

Mohsin Hamid--The Reluctant Fundamentalist

Aravind Adiga--The White Tiger

Continuing with my walk, I discovered a gelato store. Another weakness of mine. Only after I sat down in Cremeria Milano, did I notice they also had a store in Toronto. How ironic. I came all this way to enter a shop in Istanbul when I could have done the same in Toronto. I have to try out that store with a good book in hand to see if I would have a similar experience as here.

Great ambience? My kind of place

It is Saturday morning, and I am wandering Nisantasi in search for a good cup of coffee, waiting for Murat. I have noticed several things in conjunction sway me to a cafe or restaurant, some obvious, some idiosyncratic. Menu. Type of music playing. Ambience. Location. Non-smoking. The type of  customers it attracts/are attracted to it. It is rare to find a place that fulfills ALL these criteria but one strives to at least to be on the lookout for a place that has potential. 

More striking or memorable is when there is discrepancy between several criteria. Imagine this an upscale Italian restaurant, dimly lit with Grecian pendant lights, beautiful ornate Victorian chairs with plush pale green seats and Wham "Wake me up before you go go". What a mood killer! Not that I am anti-Wham. No, I do enjoy a little George Michael here and again but of my own volition and DEFINITELY not when I am in a nice restaurant, trying enjoy my meal.  

nobody's equal

I have heard that nobody is equal to Saudis. To them, there are two types of foreigners: Western and non-Western. And accordingly the treatment or behaviour towards them differs. Westerners can do no wrong, for the most part, and are put up on a pedestal, whereas non-Westerners are on the bottom of totem pole. They are often treated like dirt underneath their shoes.

This demarcation, as horrendous as it is, works for people who belong in one or the other category. But it is problematic for those of us who belong in both or exist somewhere in between both categories.

Someone told me “You can’t be both Somali and Canadian at the same time in Saudi Arabia”. Choose according to how you want to be treated.    

super friendly jeddahines

One thing I keep on noticing is how people here are super friendly. Not friendly in the North American sense of greeting and conversing in the elevator but in more helpful way. Maybe it is because I am new to the city but I feel it is more of an innate desire to help. Numerous people have offered to help me get settled in—they have given me advice on how to haggle, insider info on the best restaurants, basic stuff such as getting phone credits, took me grocery and IKEA shopping, and basically keep me updated on what’s going on at the university. I jokingly told a friend of mine that instead of the cursory goodbye at the end of a conversation, in Jeddah, people end  with the comment “If there is anything you need, anything at all, let me know”. They should just make it official. 

mall trip

As I try to avoid malls in general, it has taken me a while actually visit one called Mall of Arabia. It is shaped like a boat and heard it looks spectacular at night with all the lights aglow. It has 3 floors, the first two filled with American and European stores, while the top floor is the food court along with an indoor skating rink and a mini amusement park with slides and such. One needs to be entertained somehow in a country where movie theatres are outlawed.

It is a bit disconcerting to see only men (mostly foreigners from the Philippines, and other parts of the Arab world) working in the stores, whether is it the MAC makeup store or the Starbucks cafe. The only places I saw women working were in the lingerie section of H&M, which was closed off from the rest of the store, with a maze like entrance, allowing only women to enter, and  Hyper Panda, a Wal-Martesque store where there were Filipina cashiers. This revolutionary move has reverberated shock waves across the country where the segregation of the sexes is heavily monitored and enforced. But it is indicative of a slow change that is taking place in Jeddah, already considered the most liberal city in Saudi Arabia, through the building of King Abdullah University, the first mixed gender university. There have been mixed programs like the medical program previously but never an entire university.  

arabic coffee (qahwa arabeya)

Traditional coffee brewed with cardamom and saffron

laid-back attitude

My new philosophy while here is: until I see it with my own eyes, I won’t believe it. I was promised a single accommodations, I got a double with a roommate, Shoog. I was told that I definitely would be working in Jeddah, now I am told there is a possibility that I might be working in Rabigh, a small town, an hour and half away. I was told to be ready for the 9am bus ride for a 9:30 face-to-face interview with vice dean of the female campus of the university. The bus picked us up at 10 am arriving half an hour later on campus. The vice dean was not even there yet. She arrived 45 minutes later. She started “interviewing”, taking a break every 20 minutes. Just my luck, I was the last to be interviewed out of 23 teachers just after 1pm. Halfway through the interview, someone came in and they started talking. She prompted me to continue talking about myself while she continued her conversation. I swear, I could have been reading Dr. Seuss for all it seemed to matter to her. I think her biggest concern was hearing my accent.

first meet

I have met some many other teachers, most are Americans but there are also Brits, South Africans, Pakistanis, Jordanians. I have heard there are some Canadians in the all female building my apartment is in but I have not seen any as of yet.

I have been taking it easy, trying to get a lay of the land, asking multiple questions to teachers who have experience with my employers and Saudi Arabia in general. I have heard some horror stories, but I have also heard great ones too. I have decided to have the lowest expectations, that way if something good happens, I can be pleasantly surprised, instead of being severely disappointed when my high expectations cannot be met.

jeddah airport

I landed in Jeddah late Sunday afternoon, came down the stairs of the airplane and waited for the buses which would take us from the plane to the arrivals building.

It was hot and humid, although it was late afternoon, and I was tired after my long trek across several time zones. I was anxious to get home and get out of this heat. Apparently, that was also the thought of most of the passengers. People rushed to join the line for passport control. By the time, I reached there, 4 lines had formed, each a block long. I joined the end, slowly inching my way closer as the line moved every 10 minutes.

There were people from all over the world. Women in saris, men in dashikis, the pilgrims for Ummrah wrapped up in their white cloths. The conversations in different languages were intermittently drowned out by the cacophony of children yelling and running around. The entire ordeal made me wanted to sit down on the floor and cry in self-pity.  

About 40 minutes in, 2 other agents opened up their desks and people rushed to form new lines there. There was pushing and jostling as people scampered to make it to the desks first. Such niceties as ‘excuse me’ or ‘sorry’ were quickly forgotten. Instead of an apology, you would get an insult. People felt justified for barreling you over since you were in THEIR way.

After being momentarily horrified at the chaos and frankly weary of being a target, as if I was wearing a “please push me” sign on my forehead, I too began to rush, burdened by the cumbersome abaya, in hopes of securing a closer position to the front of the line. I found myself halfway down the queue, with a clear view of the agent. Shortly after, an Arab man with the white cultural dress (condora) came out of one of the offices, with a placard with my name and my employers' name printed on it with block letters. I raised my arm to get his attention. He, Sami, immediately took me to another agent processed everything right away. I was fingerprinted and retinal scanned while my bags were fetched. In other words, I was given the VIP treatment as I found out later on from the other teachers. Why? I don’t know.  Either way, I am glad it happened as I was reaching my breaking point.

the hunt for a black abaya

I went shopping in hopes of getting an abaya, the black cloak some Middle Eastern women wear. This is a must, here in Saudi Arabia although the head covering, the shayla is optional in Jeddah. Even though I knew this before I left Canada, it is much different than I imagined. Even worse, since it is black, it draws in the heat. A sure sign of misogyny in my eyes, the men stay cool in their condoras, the white dresses and the women suffer :-)

 I did my shopping in Dubai because I had to wear one before I lay foot on Saudi soil. While shopping, I figured, mistakenly, that shopping for an abaya would be easy and fast. After all, it is a shapeless black cloak. Right? Wrong!

 The problem was not that the stores were out of stock, or lacking in different designs. Rather, they had an abundance of abayas in a variety of styles. 

Except my own. 

Hence my problem.

All I wanted was a completely black abaya, with a simple design. Nothing elaborate or ostentatious, which apparently is the complete opposite of the norm there. In fact, when I described my choice of abayas, the salesmen gape in disbelief and whispered among themselves. Finally, after ascertaining I was a foreigner, they took pity on me and decided to educate me on abaya haute couture. They told me that more is better. Extravagence was the new black. They showed me abaya after abaya, all in the latest fashion. Finally, they presented me with the best, the kind only the 'in' people wear. The colours of the rainbow, rhinestones, zebra stripes, gold matte, feathers, beads,... you name it, it was there. All on one abaya. I got a dizzying headache just by looking at it.

 Finally, after stressing over and over my preferences, I ended up with my choice. A simple completely black abaya which they unearthed from a forgotten corner in the back room. An abaya, my friends tell me, typically reserved and worn by old and religious women.

My hunt revealed something to me which initially surprised me at first but then when I thought about it, made a lot more sense. Since the principle behind covering up Islamically is from a male perspective, meaning a female is expected not draw attention, especially male attention, it doesn't take into account how a female can assert her identity through clothing. I think wearing wearing elaborate forms within the confines (abaya) is a response to that void. In a way, demanding people to be invisible forces them to be hyper-visible. 

I have also noticed that women in the United Arab Emirates also wear over-the-top makeup too. I just don't know however if they are asserting their individual identity or a collective identity as women as sexual beings.  

pre-departure thoughts

"I set out alone, finding no companion to cheer the way with friendly intercourse, and no party of travellers with whom to associate myself...Swayed by an overmastering impulse within me, and a long-cherished desire to visit [and travel]..." -Ibn Battuta 1325-1354

I am sitting here on the eve of my departure to Jeddah, Saudi Arabia, feeling wildly excited and slightly nervous at the prospect of living in a vastly unfamiliar landscape for an extended period of time.

I am excited for several reasons. Primarily, it is because of the difference culture of Saudi Arabia, as a whole. Jeddah, the city, where I will be living in, is situated on the Red Sea and is the primary port for pilgrims going to Mecca. As such, the local inhabitants are 70% non-Saudis, which, has resulted in a less restrictive and more cosmopolitan feel to the place. Despite that, Saudi laws do still exist and are very evident.

I look forward to this ‘challenge’ because I believe that people, in order grow or become more self-actualized need to be pushed outside their comfort zone and expand their boundaries. Otherwise, people will get stuck in a rut. I have tried to live my life with this philosophy but I have noticed that the last few years in Canada, I have gotten very comfortable. I’ve notice I’ve become more judgemental and less open-minded. I am hoping being in Jeddah will change me for the better. Lesser reasons for my move are being to practice my Arabic, able to cultivate my interest in calligraphy and having the opportunity to travel around that region.          

At the same time, I am realistic enough to realize that this 'challenge' would manifest itself negatively. It would be at times, trying and frustrating not only because of the obvious restrictions imposed, such as women being unable to drive, unable to venture outside without being dressed a certain way, etc. but in how others, especially Saudis would see me. As a woman. As a foreigner. As someone raised Muslim. As a Somali. Canadian. Young person. With piercings. Along with all my other identities.  And how that would affect me, for better or worse. Will I have space to negotiate between how others view me and who I think I am? Probably not. In a country where conformity is expected, or to be more specific, demanded, have I prepared myself enough, mentally, to deal with that? These are concerns that I have.

With that in mind, I am trying to view this optimistically, as an adventure. So here I am spiritually channelling Ibn Battuta, who was a global citizen, hoping that I too, will have fascinating stories to tell.