Preparing for Christmas in Riyadh

By this time last year, we had set up our Christmas tree and we were packing our bags to go home to see our families for the holiday. This year, we had some different circumstances. Due to the fact that we didn’t think we would have a passport in time for Harris to travel (we do now!) we didn’t plan on leaving for the winter break. While living in Riyadh isn’t hard from a convenience standpoint, there are certainly aspects of it that are not easy. But we had to make do this year and prepare to spend our two week vacation with our slightly smaller family unit.

Since my family has always traditionally started Christmas preparations as soon as Thanksgiving was over, we got a head start this year! Shannon’s parents were staying with us, but because I had to work on Thanksgiving and they were flying home that day, we celebrated with them the weekend before. Then they got to help us set up the house for Christmas.

We set up our tree this year while listening to Christmas music as a family. We even got to unpack and set up our nativity set, which is a weird tradition that has been in my family for generations. It all started with a traditional wooden hand-carved nativity set that was passed down from generation to generation. When my uncles were small, one of them took one of the figurines from the set and played with it like an action figure. When they broke the piece, they replaced it with a different toy. So the once traditional wooden nativity set then had a random toy to fill the space. From that moment on, the tradition was to have each member of the family add an animal or contribution from their past year every year. When I moved out of my parents’ house, my sister was given the traditional family nativity mosaic and my mom gave me a brand new small nativity to start my own. Now, it is a sprawling masterpiece full of dinosaurs, llamas, and bulls. It is a totally random collection that doesn’t look right or fit together, but serves as a yearly celebration of past memories for me. I look forward to passing that on to Harris when he gets older.

With the house and tree set up, it was time to get some presents. So Shannon and I set off for the mall one weekend with the baby. We tried our best to adjust to our surroundings. There would be no Christmas music blaring through the countless malls. But we were out to make it the closest to “authentic” as possible. We set off and got to the mall, stopped at Starbucks for some holiday hot chocolates, and we were surprised to find sort-of-holiday themed paper cups. They didn’t say Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays, but the festive red and green color scheme and decorations seemed to step right up to the line between secular and non-denominational Christmas. I found the tactful insistence on holiday cups to be encouraging. Then, Shannon and I put our headphones in with Spotify Christmas playlists on to pretend we were getting the US mall holiday experience and we split up to go get presents.

After a few hours of shopping, one or two prayer closures, and a pitstop for me to feed the baby, we reconvened for dinner and went home. When we got there, we threw some Christmas movies on and began wrapping our presents. And yes, we were wrapping them in wrapping paper that says “Happy Birthday” because there is no Christmas wrapping paper here. We’re just going to pretend they are “Happy Birthday Jesus” messages.

Shortly after, Shannon and one of our neighbors hosted a Christmas cookie party at our house. Shannon got together with some friends at the beginning of the year and they set up some special ladies only social events throughout the year. This was one that she signed up to set up and host. Each of the 25-30 women or so who attended brought 24 cookies. I think the rules were that 12 were for everyone to eat while there, and 12 to swap. The idea was that each woman would leave with a collection of 12 different cookies to take home. My role in this was to clean the kitchen and living room, build a fire for them, and take the baby upstairs for some daddy time during the evening. From the sounds of it on a different floor, they all had a wonderful time. We also attended a special holiday event at our school where parents all brought their children to do crafts, eat cookies, and meet Santa. Since Harris is on a strict milk only diet, he avoided the cookies. Due to his lack of hand eye coordination and ability to hold his own body weight in a seated position,

or his own head upright, he passed on the crafts. But he did get to meet Santa!

It’s crazy to think that this time last year we were going to the States to see our families, then off to Berlin for New Years. We had an amazing time then, and we will now. But thinking about those two as mirror events one year apart highlights the stark differences in where we are in our lives. Now as I sit here, we are starting our winter break and we're a few days before Christmas. I have obviously been counting down the days. We will be staying in town for most of it. We will be reuniting a small sect of the family by way of Shannon’s sisters coming to visit for Christmas. We look forward to showing them around Riyadh and some of the outer areas of Riyadh. We’ll show them some of our favorite places and things to do. We look forward to some time with them, a proper Christmas dinner, some presents, and some Harris time with them. After they leave, we are planning a short trip to Bahrain for New Years Eve and a few days outside of the Kingdom with Harris. We’re looking forward to our two weeks of well deserved rest and family time.

Barbershop

Contrary to what most of my friends who lack context, Riyadh is not a hard place to live. Modern amenities, restaurants, malls, and conveniences can be found everywhere. I’m happy about this. But a small part of me misses the adventure in the day to day difficulties of living in Quito. While frustrating in the moment, those challenges gave our experience more flavor and gave the city a specific sense of character. With all of the conveniences here, I find that I miss that from time to time. While I know that “opportunities” for those challenges still exist, I rarely seek them out because...well the aforementioned convenience. But this weekend I got to dip my toes back into the waters of “character.”

This weekend when I called for an appointment to get my hair cut, I was told there were no appointments available for the foreseeable future. I can only presume everyone is trying to look fresh for their Christmas vacations and the inevitable barrage of photos. So I decided to venture back off compound to the local barber just outside of the gates. Since it was off compound, I had to get the timing just right so I wasn’t sitting in a parking lot waiting for prayer time closings to end, or so I wasn’t rushed out of there prior to a prayer. You never want to rush the person who holds sharp objects up to your head.

So after figure out the timing, I hopped into the car and left. Since it had rained during the morning, and there is no drainage system in place, I came across small lake in the road just outside of the exit. It was about 50 feet long and wide and unquestionably deep. I was behind another car, and he stopped, so I did too. I was immediately reminded of the old video game The Oregon Trail where the player is faced with a similar situation and is forced to choose between waiting for forever for a ferry to arrive, or to “Caulk the Wagon” and try to float across. It was basically the same thing, but with a car in Saudi Arabia. After some trepidation, the car in front of me threw it in reverse to make a runway and floored it to intentionally hydroplane across the lake. I don’t think he realized that cars don’t work that way. I just drove across it because I am familiar with the works of moisture and rain.

When I finally got to the barbershop, I was greeted with a silent room of 12 men. Every seat was taken by a Saudi man, and every barber was a foreign worker from India, Sri Lanka, Bangladesh, and a few others who I couldn’t begin to guess. There was no small talk. Ice Cube was not present. The only noises were the schink schink of scissors closing, and the small television displaying various people circling Kaaba at Mecca. When it was my turn, he gestured to my head and I quickly realized “Oh god. This man speaks no English.” I shook my head yes to indicate my desire to get a haircut. He put a sheet of plastic on me. I don’t mean a nylon or fabric cover. I mean a sheet of plastic. It was thinner than a trash bag. In fact, the better way to describe it would be to say I had saran wrap draped over me. I did my best to explain (in English) what I wanted while gesturing. He nodded (still no words) and started cutting.

Things were going well and he gestured to my beard. Feeling adventurous, I nodded yes and he broke out the straight razor. He threw on some shaving cream with no water or soaking or towel, so I knew I was in for a fun razor burn. At this point, in most barbershops across the world, the chair is tilted back, to make access to my vulnerable throat meat easier. These chairs did not recline. He pretty much just moved my head with his hand and did the best that he could. I will admit, he did a great job. No cuts. No razor burn. Nice edge. He followed that up with two handfuls (yes, hand fulls) of baby powder. Judging by the packaging, the baby powder was “flower” scented and it had a picture of a dandelion on it. As a new parent, I feel like I have a pretty good grasp on what an appropriate amount of baby powder is. This gentleman, while good at his craft, did not understand this concept. By the time he was done applying it, I looked like part mime (yes he put it on my face too) and part Tony Montana at the end of Scarface.

Afterwards, he started to squeeze my head. I assumed this was the part of the haircut where you get a head massage, but there was no massaging, just pushing. It was like he wanted to pop my skull like a pimple. I tried to politely decline, but again...no English. So I think he assumed I liked the sensation of it despite my protests, and he pushed harder.

When he stopped with the squeezing routine, I opened my eyes to see if we were done, and a mere 2 inches from my face was a squirt bottle. He sprayed me in the face from point blank range, with my eyes open, which made the baby powder cake up and gave me that fresh feeling of water boarding.

When it was finally time to go, I admired the strong work he did on the haircut through the baby powder laced tears of my watering eyes. Not a single word that he or I said was received or understood by the other. I paid my $6 and I was out of there. But hey, at least I got my “character” experience out of it, and a nice haircut too.

Grandparent Visit!

Living abroad has many advantages as we profile in our posts. It also comes with some disadvantages as well, such as how far away our families are. However, on rare occasion, when we're lucky, we get visitors! That's a bit more difficult living in Riyadh than it was in Quito, but with a new grand-baby, Shannon's parents would not be deterred. They were willing to do whatever it took to come see the baby, and they did. They navigated the multi-week process of getting visas, flew across the world, and showed up ready to help and hang with baby Harris. Since this blog is often used for chronicling experiences through fresh eyes, Shannon and I invited her parents to write a post detailing their own experiences. 

First impressions of the city: modular, angular, monochromatic, a city in progress.

Nearly all architecture is comprised of huge square and rectangular buildings with flat roofs (think chunky mid-century), assembled into villa and town-home communities. Mostly all are constructed of stone or concrete in varying shades of beige, taupe, light orange and only very occasionally grey (what’s wrong with gray?). It’s an interesting feature – a city with “no color” – even the majority of cars on the road are white, silver or beige. Does the culture consider bright colors to be inappropriate, or is it simply another way to deflect desert heat? Nearer to the city center is a boulevard of one-of-a-kind high-rise skyscrapers each designed by world-renowned architects trying to outdo the others. Clearly these are what the city wants to be known for. Among these landmarks is the “eye of the

needle” skyscraper as seen in the media, Kingdom Tower.

On either side and in the center median of the highway running through the city are miles and miles of date palm trees complemented by ground covers – as far as the eye can see. Dates palms are some of the tallest, stateliest, most prestigious palms of all; it is extraordinary! An impressive amount of irrigation engineering was needed to create this “living boulevard” through the middle of a desert.

Along that highway, behind the rows of dates palms, are clusters of forklifts, cranes, backhoes, etc. and piles of rock and debris scattered throughout a multitude of construction projects. Clearly, a very long-term plan to further transform the city is in progress.

Once settled into Shannon and Justin’s place, we made a few ventures into the city during our visit. More on these day trips in another blog. Don’t let me forget to describe the showdown with the Saudi military and their howitzer!

Culture
Yes, the women are fully covered in black abayas, face veils, headscarves, burqas, and all other manner of full body clothing! And yes, women visiting the country are required to wear the abaya to fully cover themselves from the neck down (other colors besides black and headscarves are optional for us). I’m told that Saudi women are taught that their godliness to directly related to how covered they are. We westerners (heathens?) only have to wear the abayas when we leave the compound and go into the city. I found the abaya to be restrictive when climbing in and out of cars, reaching across the table at restaurants, etc., and generally a trip hazard. But on the other hand, I didn’t have to worry about what to wear or “get dressed up” to go out! :-)

The Saudi men wear their version of the abaya – the white “thobe”, red and white checkered Saudi headscarves, and a most interesting traditional Saudi sandal (you’d have to see it…). Such a juxtaposition to see Saudis in these traditional clothes on cellphones, in late model cars, strolling through IKEA and hanging out at Starbucks (yes, Starbucks, as well as many other western stores are there: Burger King, Dunkin Donuts, mobile phone stores, Benihana – even Victoria’s Secret at the mall!) It takes some getting used to interacting with cashiers and receptionists whose faces are covered.

In additional to the mosques, the segregation of the sexes is also practiced in waiting rooms,
restaurants, and stores. There are female-only waiting rooms, men-only waiting rooms, and “family” waiting rooms (assuming at least one male is in the party). As a westerner, it’s really hard to understand the logic behind this. It must be a real pain-in-the-butt for space planners.
Although recent changes now permit women to drive, we saw only one female driver during our entire visit.  I think it would be a very difficult place for new drivers to learn how to drive. I equated intersections to playing chicken in bumper cars. Hats off to Justin for jumping in!

I also noticed that it is a very quiet culture. When out in public, Saudis speak very quietly to those in their party only. I never once was able to overhear conversations of those around me. Striking up conversation with the person next to you in line simply isn’t done. The public spaces are also quiet – no background music in the stores, malls, or medical offices. Even the hospital where we went for baby Harris and Shannon’s checkups had only occasional intercom paging interruptions.

Added to this, of course, is the call to prayer five times per day from sunrise to sunset. Those times are set by the daily positioning of the sun, and so vary slightly from one day to the next. BUT, not to worry- there’s an App for that! Seriously!! And Shannon and Justin are adept at calculating travel and shopping times to work around these interruptions and we often referred to apps on our phone to know when the next prayer time was scheduled. It is important to know since stores close during prayer. Depending on the store, either everyone is kicked out of the store for about 25 minutes, or you’re able to continue shopping but the cashiers close and you cannot check out until prayer is over; in other words, you are locked in the store until prayer time ends. I will say (and depending on the Imam) it is quite lovely to hear the call to prayer from the nearby mosques (which are everywhere – and one of the places where architectural adornment is plentiful). But the constant interruption to daily commerce became quite fatiguing. Western Capitalism would have a fit!

The Compound is where S&J live and work. Drive alongside a 12 ft.  high, 8-inch thick concrete wall with razor wire atop, down a singular road with speed bumps and crash gates every quarter of a mile, to the first security checkpoint (wait for guard to wave you forward), then to the second security checkpoint (show ID, open hood and trunk for inspection), past the gun turret directly facing your vehicle, around a final curve and you’re there!

Leaving Riyadh and coming into Al-Bustan Village is like Dorothy waking up in the Land of Oz.
Another analogy is leaving the desert and entering an oasis (albeit man-made) …

The compound is a fully westernized, planned development situated on an approximately one-and-a-half square mile of lushly landscaped streets. You would never know you were in the Arabian Desert. Villas and townhomes surround the perimeter. In front of each is a “covered” parking space – bougainvillea and cassia grow between and across the tops of each of the ports to create a quaint streetscape. Other streets have rows of date palms. Much of the landscaping is common to Florida and other hot, dry climates: cassia, plumeria, aloe, oleander, lantana, bougainvillea, sage grasses, fan palms, Mexican bluebell, privet, fragrant flowering trees, and groundcovers. There is a multitude of birds: mourning doves, finches, bulbul, and unknown others.


Each villa has a private courtyard in the back with a covered seating area, some grass and other landscaping, and is separated from neighbors with fences and hedges. S&J’s had theirs beautifully furnished with furniture, Moroccan lights, a fire bowl, and of course the proverbial grill.

As are all faculty staff, S&J receive a villa and car as part of their compensation package. Theirs is newly built – that is, they were the first to move in when construction was completed earlier last year. It is two-story, 2-bedroom, 2½ baths, approximately 2,000 SF. The modular, flat-roofed architecture of the city is reflected here as well. All of the villas have been built within the last few years so everything is quite new.

There is a small hotel and business center at the front of the village. Three huge public swimming pools are scattered throughout. One is “sunken” that is, walk down a few steps from street level to a series of connecting pools surrounded by – you guessed it – date palms and lounge chairs. The palms have numbers affixed to their trunks so that when ordering food service you can tell them what tree you’re located at. It has a five-star resort feel, just like a Sandals resort!

Within the business center are three small restaurants – Burger King, pizza, and a middle-eastern shawarma place (we ate fresh tabbouleh and kibbeh almost every day – delicious!), some gift shops, a
bike shop, a pet supplies shop, Starbucks, and a small grocery store with an ATM. There is also a gymnasium, spa (hair, nails, massage) and a children’s park situated near the center of the community.

In one corner of the compound is the school for K-12 students. It is by far the most impressive school campus I have ever seen.

For me, one of the most impressive things about the compound is the sense of community amongst the teaching staff. Just as military families stationed overseas or diplomats in foreign countries do, this band of internationals look out for each other in countless ways – assisting the newcomers with finding their way around, providing doctor referrals and other services, hosting social gatherings, exploring the country together, and  in our case, helping prepare for a new baby. When it became know that a new baby on the way, a mountain of gently-used cribs, strollers, rockers, baby clothes, bottles, and other supplies poured forth. The newest parents were there providing guidance and encouragement to help prepare S&J for what was to come. I was so surprised and touched to learn that these fellow teachers also organized meals to be delivered to S&J every night for the first month after Harris’ birth, then every other night for another month – what a thoughtful and extremely helpful gesture!

I also had an opportunity to accompany Shannon to a ladies book club night. What fun! How rare it is to see so many intelligent, thoughtful, and gracious young women gathered together. There were other gatherings – pickup basketball for the guys, televised sports games, or gatherings in the back courtyards.   In meeting many of their neighbors/colleagues, I was impressed with their sense of adventure and global citizen perspective. I have a strong sense that S&J are part a very special group of people.

And, oh yeah, the most adorable baby in the world: Harris, aka Harris of Arabia!

Although Tom and I planned to arrive a few days before the due date, Shannon’s blood pressure became unmanageably high and the doctor induced labor for her safety. Born abruptly at 7:50am on October 16th Saudi time (back home it was Oct 15th at 11:50pm so I suppose we can have a two-day birthday celebration in the years to come). After three days of inducing labor and another day of full labor which brought him nearly to birth, an emergency C-section was suddenly required due to his shoulder being stuck in the birth canal. Harris weighed in at 6 lbs with a gestational age of about 38 weeks. In spite of the commotion surrounding his birth, Harris is a calm and sweet baby!

We arrived when he was just ten days old and were so happy to see how well S&J are doing as new parents in spite of their exhaustion. And, speaking of exhaustion, I have rambled on about many trivial things, but the most important topic is yet to come- Baby Harris! I must put down my keyboard for the night, because this subject deserves a fully rested grandparent blogger – look for more much more! on this most precious addition to the world in the next blog…

Gaudi Saudi Party

Last weekend a teacher friend of ours turned 40 and to celebrate her birthday, she threw a “Saudi Gaudy” themed party. The so-called “Princess Souq” in Riyadh was at one time rumored to be the place where the royal princess would send her old clothes. I don’t know if there is any truth to this but nevertheless, the Princess Souq is a place where you can purchase second hand clothing, and they offer a niche market of extravagant party dresses. Imagine a mix between a Quinceanera dress and Project Runway. If sequins are good, then feathers are better and there is no such thing as too much embellishment. So part of the fun of this party is going to the souq to pick out the most outrageous, over-the-top, gaudy dress you can find. Then, all the women get dressed up in their party gowns, and the men serve as cocktail waiters for the party.
The girls organized a big bus to drive them out to the souq to go dress shopping, along with one or two male escorts to discourage leering undesirables. Unfortunately, I was in the hospital giving birth during the shopping weekend and miss out on the fun. But because the dresses are so cheap, some as low as 50 riyals (approximately $13 USD), the ladies purchased extra dresses to distribute to anyone who couldn’t make it. I was therefore able to don a leftover dress that was resplendent with tulle, gems, sequins, feathers, and a train!
On the night of the party, two friends came over to my villa for hair and makeup and I haven’t
had such a fun, silly, girl-time as this in a long time! While Justin took Harris on a walk around the neighborhood, my friends and I piled on loads of heavy eye shadow and blush, and teased our hair to ridiculous levels. If “over-the-top” was the look we were going for to compliment our equally superfluous dresses, then we accomplished our goal. We met up with about a dozen other ladies at another woman’s villa to laugh at and admire one another’s dresses before making our way to the party.
The commercial center in our compound offers a lounge that can be reserved for private parties and this was the location of our event. However, the commercial center is also ground zero for our students to hang out on a Thursday night so the trick was waiting until the coast was clear of teenagers before making a run for it to the lounge, in hopes that you could get through the doors without being spotted by a student in your tremendously gaudy dress and ridiculous hair and makeup. [We were seen by several students, who just slowly shook their heads at us]. Hey, when you live on a compound you have to make up your own fun sometimes!

Inside the lounge were about 60 teachers from school, all decked out in their Princess Souq bargains. There was a table of chicken shawarma and beverages, music and a dance floor, and of course a giant photo booth. As the night progressed, so too did the trail of embellishments that were gradually falling off of the cheaply made dresses. This was a really fun and creative event that was a great way to celebrate my first “mom’s night out” after having the baby, and it was great to have so many other fun-loving ladies to be silly with.