One of our favorite things to do while living abroad is going to local markets. It doesn’t really matter what kind of market. Clothing markets are fun. So are food markets, artisan markets, and even touristy gift markets. It’s a fun way to get out into a city, see new stuff, and avoid staying trapped in the inevitable bubble that we all find ourselves in. One thing I realized when I first moved abroad is how easy it is to get stuck in that bubble. It’s inevitable really to a certain extent. People crave familiarity and routine. Living abroad forces you into many unfamiliar and un-routine situations, so when you can find yourself going to a mall, visiting a chain restaurant, or doing any activity that reminds you of your formal “normal” life, it’s hard to resist the charm.
Obviously the downside of this approach is you miss out on the whole point of living abroad. Like anything, there needs to be balance. I have found that maintaining a normal routine helps keep my focus on my work and on relationships with family and friends. However, every now and again, it’s nice to get out into the community and do something different and distinctly un-routine. Markets are a great way to do that. Last weekend, in an effort to get out of the routine, see some of the city, and even pick up a few gifts for the holidays, I went venturing out into the world of the local markets of Riyadh, called souqs.
We had been to souqs before. We got the plants for our home at a local plant souq, but I was after something more eclectic. We had heard from some friends about the various different things that could be procured at the souqs across the city. When payday came, and the weekend followed, we made plans to go to the famous Riyadh Clocktower Souq.
I have detailed this before, but planning any outing in Riyadh requires strict scheduling and deliberate departure times in order to avoid getting locked out of your destination due to the regular prayer times. So we left early in the morning. A few of us piled into the car and drove out of the northern part of the city towards the older, western part of the city where the souq was. Shannon wasn’t feeling well so it was a few of our neighbors and me. We were told as soon as we got there that we absolutely had to go to the “cheesy bread” place first. I was game, so when we arrived, we walked to a small food counter and ordered four and a few cups of tea and sat down. What they brought us was magnificent. The best way to describe these “cheesy breads” is to say they are like a small, thin, pita bread hammered down and coated with a soft, white cheese, and drizzled with honey. They are rolled up into a wrap and served warm. It’s the perfect balance between sweet and savory and really kicked off our trip right. It was more than enough to fill a person up so we were ready to be on our way. I paid the bill for our four “cheesy breads” and tea, which came out to a grand total of 20 SAR ($5) and we went through to the markets. I still have no idea what they are called. We ordered with four fingers held up and some poor pantomiming and never actually exchanged words with the owner. I look forward to finding out, and trying more.
The souqs reminded me of the markets in Ecuador a bit. They are essentially a gathering of small, living room sized shops connected together in a half-indoor, half-outdoor weaving mall/street. Some stores sold food. Some sold jewelry. Others sold clothing, or antiques, or scarves. We even came across one that sold hand build and hand carved rosewood furniture, which was beautiful. We wandered our way around the area, walking past old, beautiful buildings and a large courtyard area. We were told by our veteran visitors (who also happened to have lived in Riyadh as children) that the courtyard doubled as the location for public executions or “punishments” on certain days. That certainly gave me a moment of pause. I hope never to wander into that as an accidental spectator on one of those certain days.
At one point we noticed that a group of three Saudi boys, probably about 18 or 19 years old were following us from afar as we zigged and zagged through the stores. After we went into one antique shop, one of them tentatively walked up to me as his friends were watching from twenty feet away and he said, “Hello...how, are, you?” in broken English before scurrying away as his friends giggled. It was a bold attempt at practicing his English. After I replied to him, I thought how terrified I’d be to speak with a local Saudi in Arabic.
Each souq had a variety of cool things and of course, everything is negotiable in terms of price and
quantity. After picking up a few gifts for our return to the states for the holidays, I looked down at my watch to see that it was nearly time for the midday prayer, thus the inevitable shut down of everything. Our party split up as if on Supermarket Sweep and haggled our way to a few last minute purchases before meeting back up at the car where we headed home, disappointed that we couldn’t get any more of that “cheesy bread” to go, as they had already closed for prayer.
It was a really cool cultural experience, and a good way for me to get out of my routine and interact with some locals. I got to eat some delicious food, browse around at the local shops, and pick up a few things for my family and friends, while being away from the norm for a short while. I look forward to going back again with Shannon.
About six months ago, sitting in the kitchen in our home in Ecuador with my mom who was visiting for the weekend, we got the idea for a surprise party for my dad’s 70th birthday. After some discussion as to what sort of surprise he would like best, we settled on the idea of a cruise to Cuba. Knowing how much my dad has always wanted to visit, and how close we came to taking a family trip last year this seemed like the ideal birthday celebration. When we happened upon the coincidence that my dad’s birthday just so happened to align with our November school break, and the only 4-day cruise with Havana as a destination even sailing within that time frame, it was as if the stars had aligned. After a quick call to the sisters for affirmation, we booked it.
My mom did an excellent job of keeping this a secret from my dad. The most he knew was that he need to take a week off from work because he was going somewhere. So, last Thursday after wrapping up a full school day of parent-teacher conferences, Justin and I packed our suitcases and boarded a late night flight Orlando-bound. Some 26 hours later, we were picked up at the airport by a friend and quite literally crashed into her guest room for the night. We were treated to a generous breakfast of eggs, sausage and bagels and had at least a little time to catch up with our friends before my mom picked us up.
We drove to the airport to pick up the sisters who had just arrived on a morning flight. All vestiges of fatigue and jetlag faded away as we drew nearer to the house and excitedly planned out exactly how the surprise would be revealed. My mom dropped us on the street two houses down while she went into the house, just returned from “running errands”. Next, Caitlin phoned my dad to wish him a happy birthday and to tell him to check the front door for a package that had just been delivered. With Justin filming the moment, we whispered, giggled and leaped over bushes to be standing on the doorstep when dad opened the door. SURPRISE!! We yelled as dad stared back at us, shocked and smiling, cell phone still held up to his ear. Meagan had cued up a Cuban music playlist which she played from her phone as we came inside and started dancing around. When we informed dad that we had all come into town to take him on a cruise to Cuba, he could not believe it. The surprise was executed perfectly, dad was thrilled, and so we unpacked our Panama hats and prepared for the adventure.
Because we had booked our trip at the end of May, we were thankfully exempt from the changes in visa regulations that had been made a mere four days before our departure. However, this caused an extreme backup to the paperwork and check-in process at the port and so it took us a grueling three hours of standing in line before being finally checked in and able to board the ship in Miami. My parents, who had booked a suite, were able to check in in 10 minutes and board the ship far ahead of the rest of us plebeian standard state room passengers.
Once onboard I realized how long it had been since I’d taken a cruise and how different everything seemed from what I remembered as a teenager. Primarily obvious was the stark contrast in demographics aboard the ship. Being in the under-40 age group definitely put us in the minority. This was Justin’s first ever cruise so it was a novelty to show him the theatre, dance club, late night buffet, casino, and the much revered soft serve ice cream machine on the pool deck.
The six of us enjoyed our first of four sprawling dinners for the week, complete with multiple desserts, teas and coffees. And despite the grand plans we had made earlier in the day of dancing and blackjack and karaoke, we all turned in soon after dinner, exhausted from the travel and releived at finally having a few days off to relax.
Our first stop was in Key West and after wandering into a few shops and bars along Duval Street, we went to the Mel Fischer museum where we learned all about his lifelong family quest and eventual success of finding the shipwreck of the Atocha. I had never known about this story before our visit and found it immensely interesting. Not only was the shipwreck discovered in recent times (1985), but it became the subject of a long, drawn out legal battle between Mel Fischer’s family and the State of Florida, both claiming to hold lawful possession of the treasure. Both parties finally reached some sort of settlement, and I have a feeling that Mel’s wife and treasure hunting partner, Deo has a pretty amazing private jewelry collection. Gold, silver, emeralds and other gem stones were among some of the fantastic treasures brought up from the sea floor of the Florida Straights. We also stopped by Ernest Hemingway’s famous house and rounded out our Key West visit with a delicious slice of key lime pie before sailing overnight to our next destination.
We pulled into the port of Havana just after 7:00 on an overcast and drizzly morning. From the pool deck where Justin and I stood in the gradually brightening sky, we could already make out the bubblegum-colored classic cars rolling up and down the Malecon. We started our adventure with a pretty tame walking tour organized by the cruise line and managed by one of the government-approved tour companies on the island. And while it was a bit embarrassing to be given a number 8 sticker to wear and to follow a guy around with a number 8 paddle like the bumblingist of tourists, I was appreciative of the history we were presented with and the amount of ground and squares we were able to cover in four hours.
As an interesting caveat, there was a government official assigned to our group that just followed us around for the whole morning. We imagined that he was there to supervise the operations of the tour, but may have even gone as far as monitoring the questions that were asked and the answers that were supplied by the tour guide. It just seemed that parts of his script were just a little too “on-message” to be natural. For instance, when he brought us to a public food pantry where citizens present their ration cards for their allotted shares of meat, cheese, and butter, “something the government of Cuba does to help it’s people - all of it’s people who need this help receive this help.” Or when he pointed to the library and told us that inside we could find “many young people, reading books to further their knowledge and conduct research on important matters.” Even the cigar and rum shop he took us too was circumspect, it being owned and operated by the government, hence they charged higher prices and the government takes a portion of those earnings. But the tour operator insisted that we should purchase our cigars and rum here only (as opposed to the store next door with lower prices) because the goods in this store were “certified” and “regulated” and “guaranteed” to be of good quality. So while owning and operating a private business in Cuba is possible, it definitely seems that the government-owned operations give themselves every advantage. And my sister bought Cohibas out of a duffel bag from a guy in an alley, so take that for “regulated.”
Our coolest stop on the tour was to an outdoor cafe where we were seated six to a table to sample and learn the basics about Cuban coffee, rum, and of course, cigars. You can rest assured that all six of us took turns posing with a cigar, holding a cigar, lighting and puffing on a cigar and just generally trying to look really cool with a cigar in various photos. I must admit, I do look pretty cool puffing a cigar… Here is where we decided to purchase our cigars, at a significant discount than what the “authorized” shop was offering earlier. We bought Romeo y Julietta’s and a few loose Cohibas to share with friends.
On our second-to-last tour stop, our guide brought us to a square that contained a rather large and appealing bar and brewery. He foolishly pointed this out to our group, who by now had been walking in and out of brief little bouts of rain for the last three hours. He must have known that the 15 minutes he gave us to explore would not be sufficient for us all to sample what he himself called the “best beer in the country.” The whole group made their way inside and we were able to find a large table but by now tensions were getting high (i.e. we were all getting hangry) and my dad had a brief moment where he thought the Cuban police might come get us out of the bar if we didn’t return to the guide in time. Needless to say, this didn’t happen, and we reunited with the tour guide just in time.
Having completed our guided tour we finally broke off from the group, and tore off our number 8 stickers. Meagan had secured us dinner reservations at a very famous and notoriously hard to get into restaurant in another part of the city. So the six of us split up into two classic cars, a ‘53 Chevy and a ‘55 Ford, both hot pint and white, for our obligatory cruise down the Malecon to the restaurant. Waves crashed over the side of the sea wall and spilled onto the shoulder of the road as our drivers whipped in and out of traffic. The brief rain that had rolled in made the convertible experience even more unique as we clutched our hats to our heads and let the rain drops roll down our laughing, smiling faces. The restaurant, La Guarida, was once the set of a film called “Strawberries and Chocolate” and as a small private residence, can only hold a dozen patrons at a time - hence the necessity for a reservation. The lunch was beautiful and delicious, and the beverages were sweet and refreshing.
In the afternoon we lazily walked up and down the city streets, sampling a bit more of the local fare and listening to live music played in the street along our way. As it got dark we finally headed back to the cruise ship, wet and windblown and smiling ear to ear.
The following day was spent at sea on our slow sail back to Miami and while one sister spent her time catching up on much needed sleep, and another spent some time wandering the ship with my mom, Justin and I spent hours up on the pool deck reading. It was our first time in a very long time being able to dedicate a whole day to doing nothing but pleasure reading all day and it was fantastic. Tragically, I left my Kindle beind on the airplane on our trip in, but my friend was able to lend me a couple books for the week and these kept me entertained.
And now, as I sit on the plane flying back to Paris before making our back down to Riyadh and knowing that we have a rough few days ahead as we readjust to the time change and the jet lag, I am so happy that we were able to make the trip back for my dad - to spend time with the family, and even get to see our friends for a couple hours. I know it made my dad and my mom happy to take such a cool little vacation with the whole family together again and I’m so grateful that we had the opportunity and the good fortune to make it work. Viva Cuba!
Justin and I finally had the chance to venture out on our own for a date night. Justin found a place online that not only looked beautiful but also had great reviews for the food. So we planned to make a late afternoon trip to Saco to get some shopping done before the first evening prayer and from there we would head straight to the restaurant in time to order before the last prayer.
We managed to kill two whole hours wandering aimlessly around Saco after we had successfully purchased our patio furniture. We marveled at the myriad of niche kitchen appliances available - hotdog warmers and cupcake makers and about a dozen brands of air fryers and rice cookers. We noted the practical ingenuity of memory foam prayer rugs, and the multitude of tea and serving sets in the homegoods section. Also snake bite kits. We even stumbled upon a second floor of furniture that despite having been our fourth visit to Saco World, we never noticed before. All of this was to structure our timing just right for dinner.
The restaurant - Menara Moroccan Cuisine was located in a little strip mall on the side of the highway about a 15 minute drive from our compound. A Persian rug was rolled down the three steps leading up to the front door. In the lobby, which was all mosaic tile, trickling wall fountains, and giant brass-top tea tables, there was a small hallway with what I assume were private dining rooms up and down either side. The host was able to give us the last table available upstairs despite our not having a reservation.
We were placed in a tiny elevator and brought up to the second floor, which much like downstairs consisted of a broad hallway with doors to private dining room up and down the aisles, and with a large central seating area which looked like it was used for tea service as opposed to a full dinner.
Saudi Arabia has a very prominent dining culture and families go out to eat at restaurants often. The normal time for dining is much later than we are accustomed to in the US, to account for the final prayer time. Meaning that the typical “dining rush” is closer to 8:00 pm. It is also typical that the employees working at a restaurant, the servers are Filipino or Indian. Our Filipino waiter escorted us to the first dining room on the left hand side of the hallway. The room was approximately 10 feet wide and square, with a tiled square-shaped dining table and the middle and an L-shaped bench around two sides. On one wall hung a 32” flat screen TV and on the other wall was the door to the room. We each took a seat on one of the benches and were handed the remote control for the TV. At the time, it was automatically running through photos of some of the most prominent menu items, though our server showed us how we could easily change the channel to the soccer game. The room also came with a wireless button that was connected to a pager the server wore on his belt, so that we could call him to the room if we needed service or when we were ready to order.
These private dining rooms are common in Riyadh, due to the separation of genders and single men and families. In a private dining room, a woman would be comfortable removing her veil to eat unincumbered. The server always always knocks on the door before entering, and asks, “Is it okay for me to come in?” and waits for verbal confirmation before even opening the door. This allows the women a chance to cover back up before a man comes into the room.
After flipping through some of the menu photos, we turned off the TV and paged our server to place our order. Because we were so thrilled to be having our first date night out since arriving, we did not hold back and ordered what was truly enough food to feed four people, just because we were curious to taste as many things as we could. We ordered an appetizer of Moroccan “salads” which consists of four mini plates of things like pickled olives and peppers in olive oil, hummus and stewed eggplant. This was served with fresh hot pita bread. We also tried the traditional rice and chicken dish that is cooked inside of a clay pot sealed with pita bread over the top. When this is served at the table, the server slices open the bread lid with a knife, and dumps the steaming rice and chicken onto a platter. Very fun. We also ordered some sort layered pastry that involved ground chicken, crushed almonds and pistachios, cinnamon and some sort of clear sweet syrup on the side. It was combination of sweet and savory, and all sorts of textures that just really had us puzzled. I’ve never had anything similar to compare it to, but this wound up being Justin’s favorite dish. And of course, we had what has become our favorite dinner cocktail - mint lemonade with crushed ice.
We also weren’t shy to order dessert, and sampled a creme brulee which was served with cardamom and pomegranate seeds on top, and a flaky sticky pastry similar to baklava. To round out the meal, we ordered Moroccan mint tea. This was served on an elegant silver tea platter, with short class cups and a *charming* tea cozy meant to resemble some sort of traditional person. You can check it out in the pictures, but I’m unsure as to the culture reference here…
Finally when we had finished our feast and tea party, we packed up all our leftovers and settled the tab, which was an incredibly reasonable 300 riyals (approximately $100 USD), not bad at all for a date night out and leftovers for days.
We were so happy with our find that we talked about bringing our other DINK friends out to this restaurant for a triple date night sometime soon. And even though we did get lost on the way home, both of our cell phones died, we took two wrong turns, and took an hour to do what should have taken only 15 minutes, it was a great adventure and something I’m sure we’ll do again soon.