don't lose your stc sim card!

I had posted my experience with obtaining an STC sim card, which was bad enough, but, apparently the experience of losing one and trying to replace it is even worse. Our expatguru relates his harrowing experience.

prejudice in saudi arabia?

I have been asked by a reader if the tribulations I have faced in various government and commercial officials have anything to do with my being a South Asian. In other words, whether they were manifestations of the alleged prejudice Saudis hold against Asians.

This is a bit difficult to tell, because it is always hard to guess what's happening in a person's mind. Unless someone acts in a blatantly prejudiced manner, or utters something explicit to that effect, I would prefer to give him or her the benefit of doubt. In the incidents that I have mentioned in my blog, I guess only the bank clerk who refused to entertain my application for opening an account may have acted in a prejudiced manner. May be, because I am from Bangladesh, he was worried that he was dealling with an imposter with doctored documents.

Otherswise, I think my problems have more to do with ignorance of the system, lack of wasta and inability to communicate in Arabic.

I have mentioned in an entry about the maltreatment and indignities Bangladeshi workers endure in Saudi Arabia. The same can be said about other South Asian workers here and in other Gulf countries. But this has more to do with what they do than where they are from. Menial workers in South Asia often receive the same kind of treatment from the more affluent sections of their society. Nonetheless, this is prejudice, no doubt.

Saudis come in all sorts of facial features and complexions. This is probably because, in the past, people from different parts of the world came to this region and became assimilated into its society. Slaves were brought in from Africa and Europe. Muslim from East, South and Central Asia had arrived on pilgramage and never went back. They all became part of Saudi society. Islam is an egalitarian religion that strictly forbids discrimination based on class or race. I'm sure there is prejudice (and racism) in Saudi society, but my guess is it is relatively rarer than, or on par with that in many other societies. This my guess only, I have to admit that my knowldege of Saudi society is too poor to form an informed opinion in this regard.

kind-hearted bangladeshis

Saudi Arabia is probably home to the largest number of non-emmigrant Bangladeshis outside Bangladesh. It is estimated that close to 2 million Bangladeshis reside in this country. The vast majority of them work in the lowest rungs of job hierarchy. Cleaners, sweepers, construction workers and so on. Many of them have spent a lot of money to come here, only to find that the pay promised is not what is actually paid. There are Bangladeshi workers who earn 300-400 rials a month, which is not enough for their own survival, let alone feed their families back home. Consequently, they have to resort to moonlighting, doing odd jobs. Some work at homes cleaning, cooking, washing cars etc. This is not legally allowed, so there are arrests every now and then.

They face a lot of indignities in their life. As menial workers they are often abused verbally and discriminated against. However, my family and I have often been touched and moved by their kindness and generosity. There is one petrol pump attendant who would always buy a bagful of snacks and drinks for my children whenever I go to fill my tank. There was another supermarket worker, whose job was to stuff shopping bags with the items bought by the customer, who would do the same. Saying no to them is futile. The alternative is to avoid the places when they are on duty. At one intersection, while waiting for the signal to turn green, my wife asked for a rose from a street hawker selling flowers. She asked about its price, in Bengali, and realising that we were from Bangladesh, the guy left saying we didn't need to pay. There are many other examples that I can cite. The kindness shown by these people motivates us to reciprocate the favours.

Photo credit:Construction Week Online

no more deshi doctors

The Saudi Gazette recently reported that the Ministry of Health will no longer recruit doctors from Bangladesh, citing low qualifications and poor training as the reasons. I am not sure if it is true, but I have heard that the pay of Bangladeshi doctors had been lowered some time in the past. If that is true, I am not surprised about the dearth of good doctors willing to come to Saudi. It may sound surprising, but good doctors in Bangladesh (thousands of them) earn much, much more than their compatriots do in the Kingdom. So why should they forsake the comfort of living in their own country if there is no lure of lucre?

Photo credit: WPClipart.com

one year completed

Today marks the first anniversary of my coming to Saudi Arabia, although, within this period, I have actually spent a little less than 10 months here. It seems like I came here just the other day. Time passes really fast. I am deeply indebted to all those who have, in many different ways, helped me to adapt to the new environment. They include my friends, colleagues, family, service providers and netizens who I've never met face-to-face. Thank you all.

Coincidentally, today is also my birthday.

Photo credit:FreeFoto.com

tal bukra

I was warned by a Pakistani colleague, several months into my sojourn in Saudi Arabia, that I'd frequently hear the phrase 'tal bukra.' It means, come tomorrow. I remember two lines from a verse I had read decades ago, "Put up in a place where it's easy to see, the cryptic admonishment TTT." TTT, the next couple of lines explained, stands for 'things take time.' The admonishment is more relevant here than in most other places. I have already related my experience regarding opening a bank account. More recently I had a similar experience with an even simpler task--buying a mobile phone SIM.

I went to a small STC (Saudi Telecom) outlet to buy a SIM. The shop was manned by only two persons, who didn't seem to have much work at hand, since apart from myself, there were no other customers. I expressed my intention to buy a SIM, and one of the guys told me to bring a photocopy of my residence permit. I was not prepared for this; on the two occasions that I had bought SIMs from a different company, the shop attendants themselves made copies of my residence permit. I pointed to the scanner/copier in the shop, but was told that it was out of order. So I went out to find a copy shop, but when I spotted one, the call for prayer rang out from the mosque loudspeaker. I decided to come back the next day.

The following day, a Thursday, I went back to the same shop only to be told to come back on Saturday. No explanation was given, but I guess since government offices are closed on Thursdays, STC outlets, like the banks, may offer only limited services on that day. I came back on Saturday, but they had run out of SIMS. "Tal bukra," they said. The next evening found me back at the same shop, and yes, this time they could issue me a SIM. "But you cannot use it today," I was told, "you have to activate it tomorrow." Well, at least I won't have to make the trip to the shop again!

The slow pace of things can get on your nerves. But getting agitated won't help you move any faster. And one has to admit, the laid back attitude and easy-going pace is a definite attraction of living in Saudi Arabia.

consumption of white cloth

Arab News recently carried an essay translated from the local press. The writer, Ali Al-Mosa reports, "Saudis top the entire world in the consumtion of tea and coffee. They also top the world in the consumption of Viagra, spending about SR 150 million on it annually."

It appears, though it is not clearly stated, that the top rank secured by the Saudis is in terms of total, not per capita, consumption. That is really hard to believe. With only some 25 million people, including expatriates, try to imagine how much tea or coffee each Saudi would have to consume to beat, say, the 1.3 billion Chinese. With a large majority of the population under the age of 30 and with so little opportunities/inclination to be promiscuous, it is hard to understand why Saudi men would have such a need for Viagra pills.

But then the title of the story was 'Unreliable consumer statistics', and the 'facts' were cited to drive home the point that consumer statistics published in the local press need to be taken with a grain of salt.

However, if the press reports that the Saudis top the world in consumption of white cloth, I, for one, would be inclined to believe it. Except for the very brief period of the year that can be termed winter, Saudi men are always clad in ankle-length white robes, with white undergarments underneath, and around may be half of them sport a headgear made of a large white scarf-life piece of cloth (the rest wear a red-and-white pattern).

Photo credit: Hassan Ammar/AP

visit visa for family

I wanted to issue a visit visa to bring in my mother-in-law for a short trip. The process to do so, like so many other things here, is shrouded in mystery, at least for an expatriate like me with no connections and no knowledge of Arabic. I tried to learn about it from other people's blogs and experiences. Each had his own version of the process, in particular in relation to the documents that I would need to submit. I decided to believe all of them in order to minimise the risk of my application being turned down, so I went to the relevant government office carrying a big stack of papers including copies of my residence permit, my passport, my wife's passport, my mother-in-law's passport, my educational certificates, my marriage certificate, a letter from my employer etc. I had filled a form on the Internet and was given a number for future reference. When I handed my papers at the designated window, they gave me back everything except for the letter from my employer and the copies of my passport and residence permit.

I was advised to check their Website after 10 days to see if the visa advice is issued. Others waiting in the lounge told me that the process actually takes much less time, typically not more than 3 days. In my case, however, it took almost a month. But better late than never.

back to the kingdom

I returned to the Kingdom yesterday after a two-month long vacation. The flight from home, which was delayed by four hours, took around six hours. The wait at the passport control took about two hours. Some families spent more than four hours there. There were only 2-3 officers working at a time for hundreds of arriving passengers waiting in horrendously long queues. I am tired, but I'll have to spend a good part of the next few days cleaning up our flat. Belated Eid greetings to all!

more thoughts on traffic

I'd been away from blogging for sometime mainly because I was away from the Kingdom. For some time, I was in Thailand. I'd been there on many occasions in the past, but this was my first time since arriving in Saudi Arabia. This made me appreciate the driving habits of Thais more deeply. They are courteous to each other, and to pedestrians. They stop at zebra-crossings to let pedestrians pass. Honking of horns is a rarity.

The public transport system is also very good in Bangkok. There is an extensive network of bus routes. You can find taxis anywhere, and in the central part of the city you can use BTS (SkyTrain) or MRT. There are also boats carrying passengers along the canals, and limited train services. They are testing a newly installed train line from the city centre to the new airport.

In spite of this, there are lots of cars on the roads and traffic jams are increasing, though they are nowhere near the levels seen here decades ago. The infrastructure for surface transport--the multiple levels of elevated roadways, the overpasses, multi-storied car parks, etc.--have created a very unpleasant (visually) urban landscape. It shows that cars should ideally have a very minor role in plans for urban transportation, particularly in big cities.

thoughts on traffic

Expatriates always complain about the traffic in Saudi Arabia. It's not the congestion that irks people, although that can be a pain in the neck on certain streets at certain times. There are no dearth of cars on the street. You can buy cars on installment and petrol is dirt-cheap. But what irritates most people is rash driving. Many drivers leave their common sense when they enter their cars and flout traffic rules with impunity. It may be a bit scary driving in such a milieu. Especially when you see mangled wreckage of cars surrounded by police vehicles and ambulances every now and then.

Apart from that, however, driving is a pleasant experience when seen from a South Asian perspective. Here you have to mind other cars only. Back home you would be required to watch out for pedestrians, especially those who suddenly decide to cross the street in a great hurry. Some of the pedestrians would be four-footed. Some of the vehicles are slow human-powered ones. All of them would be competing for space on the narrow roads bursting with traffic. In this chaotic mess, drivers would be honking their horns constantly. It's enough to drive you crazy.

Coming back to the scene here, I think the congestion would worsen considerably when women are evetually allowed to drive (I believe the ban would be lifted sooner or later). The number of vehicles would double almost immediately. Parking cars would become impossible in the core areas of cities.

Public transport and a network of pedestrian paths with a high sensuous quality must be given serious consideration.

Photo credit: mliss

how many days do you need to open a bank account?

It varies from bank to bank or from case to case depending on I don't know what.

When I arrived here and received my residence permit, one of the first things I had to do was open a salary bank account. There is small branch of a bank near our administrative building. I went there and met the manager. He was very courteous and helpful. He gave me a list of the documents I needed to bring (letter from my employer, copies of my passport and residence permit and original residence permit). The next day when I brought the required documents, he filled out my application form and the account was created within minutes. He said my ATM card would reach my mailbox in a week. Two weeks later I still hadn't received my card. I was planning to see the manager when I received a call from the bank with a request to see them. At the bank I met the manager (a new one, the earlier one was apparently transferred). He handed me the ATM card saying that no one recognized me at the address where the card was mailed to. The helpful manager had given the wrong address in my application form (and I heard from colleagues that it was not the first such case), so I gave them the appropriate address to rectify my records.

Unfortunately, an account in this bank is useless when it comes to paying sundry government fees (eg., visa fees, driving license fee etc.). Every time I need to pay a fee to the government , I have to request a friend holding an account in either of the two banks from which such payments can be made. So I thought it would be convenient to have an account in one of the two banks.

First, I tried to do so at the bank that I heard is government owned. The guy who received my papers took a long look at my residence permit and asked me who had written my name on it. It was a strange question and I replied that there was no way I could know who at the government immigration office was responsible for writing my name in the permit. He left his desk and talked to a senior colleague. He came back to inform me that I needed to get a seal from the immigration office next to my name. I was not amused. I had used the same document to open my first bank account and couldn't understand why I couldn't do so again. I said goodbye and decided to go to the other bank.

The first day there I was told that their system was down, so I had to come back later. I went there again the next day. The person responsible for opening new accounts asked me whether I had opened an account on the Internet. I said I didn't know something like that was required. So I came back and opened an account through the Internet, and took the number generated to the bank on the following day (day 3). This time the guy told me that they had a new system installed and he was still not familiar with it enough to process my application. He advised me to come back after one day. So I went back two days later. This time he opened my account without any further ado. When I asked about my ATM card, he said it was already prayer time so I had to come back half an hour later. I left the place and came back the following day, which was a Thursday, to find that only limited services were available and obtaining an ATM card was not one of them. I needed the card, without which I cannot transfer money to government accounts. So I visited the bank again on Saturday. I was informed that that particular branch had run out of ATM cards but I could get a card from any other branch of the bank. The next day (day 7) I located a different branch of the bank and finally succeeded in getting the coveted card after nearly two hours (including the noon prayer time). Whew!!

Photo credit:Bongani/stock.xchng

cold is hot, hot is cold

When I arrived in the Kingdom, it was winter and the weather was pleasant. It wasn't too cold, a light jacket was enough to keep you comfortable outside in the evenings. But the water in the bathroom or kitchen was a different matter. Fortunately, there are 'geysers' installed in those places, so I can get running hot water.

Now it is summer, and the sun outside is scorching. The wind blowing in your face seems like a blast from the furnace. And the water from the fawcett is scalding. We can't take a shower during the day, even washing hands requires a get deal of mental strength.

The other day I was relating this problem to some friends, and one of them, an old Saudi hand, gave a simple tip that solved the problem without the need to spend a single halala. This is what he had suggested: turn off the geysers; since the geysers are inside the building, the water in the storage tanks will become cool if the power line is disconnected. Now if you use the cold water tap, you will get hot water from the overhead tank, but use the hot water tap, and you will get colder water from the geyser tank.

That was a nifty solution to what seemed to be an intractable or expensive-to-solve problem. I wish all problems here had such easy solutions.

Photo credit: stock.xchng

party saudi style (almost)

Last night I attended a party hosted by a young Saudi colleague to celebrate his engagement. There were about five dozen guests, mostly colleagues and friends of our host. There was no seggregated space for women because there were no women; it was an all male affair.

The event took place in a rented hall that was designed to resemble a castle, with high boundary walls complete with battlements. There was no moat, but a footpath along the frontage, and a moderate ramp from the gate to the road vaguely resembled a drawbridge.

Inside the gate was a nice green lawn. Our host and his family (well, half his family) were waiting there to greet guests. The intricate rules of Saudi style greetings are still a mystery to me. You just shake hands and say 'Assalamu alaikum' (peace be upon you) or 'Keifa Halak' (how do you do?) if you meet somebody you are not very familiar or intimate with. But in other cases you either kiss each others cheeks with loud smacking noises, or bump each other's cheeks several times in quick succession. What I still don't understand is how they decide whether to kiss or bump cheeks. And how many times.

My host kissed me several times, but I remained silent. When they kiss, they don't really seem to place the lips on your cheek, but make the noise of kissing from a slight distance.

Another very tall colleague stooped low to bring his cheek next to mine on my 5'-5" frame. After three bumps I thought that was enough and was moving apart, but he firmly drew me closer for a fourth and final bump.

I noticed that some students kissed their teachers on the forhead or on the top of their heads.

We (I went there with two other expatriate colleagues) were led into a long, rectangular hall room with sofas arranged along the walls. Guests who had arrived before us were sitting there and we went around shaking hands with each of them. After we took our seats, we were served with endless rounds of sweets and gawa, a very refreshing type of Arab coffee served in tiny little cups.

More guests continued to pour in and every few minutes we had to rise and shake hands with the new guests. Good exercise to whip up the appetite before dinner. About an hour and a half later we were herded to the lawn where dinner was served. I was expecting, rather hoping, a Saudi style dinner, where we would sit on the floor aound large platters of food, from which all of us would be eating with our hands.

Instead, the arrangemetn was for a western style buffet dinner. The food was eclectic, with Lebanese bread, Chinese spring rolls, Indian samosas, italilan style lasagna, several types of salads, hamur, chicken, vegetables and a platter of rice topped with a cooked lamb.

Our host and his father came to see how we were doing during our meal, just as we would do in our country. They thanked us for attending the party, which was of course our pleasure.

After the hearty meal, including desserts and a cup of tea, we took leave from the hosts and headed back home.

you have mail, at last

Yesterday I received a letter from my wife. My wife joined me here in March, and we are on speaking terms, so there is no need for her to send me missives. The letter actually accompanied some documents that she had sent before coming over here. It was mailed on 28 December, 2008, two-and-a-half months before her departure. The envelope has a Jeddah postmark dated 4 Muharram, which is 1 January 2009 according to the Gregorian calendar. So it travelled some 5,240 kilometres in about four days. That amounts to around 55 km/hr. However, the 1,200 kilometre journey from Jeddah to my mailbox in Dammam took around 130 days. That's around 0.4 km/hr. I had heard about the inefficiency of the snail mail service here, but I didn't expect it to be this bad. I am not sure though if I can blame the postal service for the delay, or if the internal mail distribution system in our organization was responsible. It reminds me what people told me about living in Saudi Arabia. You need patience. A lot of it.

meet the muttawa

Last Wednesday we had our first brush with the Muttawa, the dreaded religious police of Saudi Arabia. My wife and I were walking down the street in a shopping district looking for a shop to buy school uniform for our kids. At one road intersection, we were waiting with a crowd of pedestrians for the traffic to stop so we could cross the narrow, one-way street. A four-wheel drive vehicle pulled up and allowed us to pass. I was surprised and pleased because I don't see such gestures here often. I raised my hand in appreciation without noticing who was at the steering wheel. Once we were across the street, I heard someone yelling from behind. I turned around and saw it was the driver of the four wheel vehicle. The only word I understood from what he was saying was 'madam'. I had never seen a Muttawa before, but I had no problem recognising that this was one, and I knew he was exhorting my wife to cover her head. I waved at him and told my wife what it was about. She promptly covered her head with her scarf. That satisfied him and he drove off to find other deviant souls to save.

15 minutes later we had finished our shopping and were returning to our car when the loudspeakers of the local mosque blared out the call for prayer. We saw the same Muttawa drive down the street exhorting the people on the streets to go to the mosque (I guess).

I have read so many horror stories involving the Muttawa in the newspapers here, I was hoping I would never come accross one of them. I am sure, though, that the bad publicity they received is only due to a few bad apples. Newspaper reports also suggest that the government has taken measures to curb the excesses committed by the Muttawa. Friends who have been living here for some time say that the Muttawa have assumed a more low key profile in recent times. I hope it remains like that.

hand shaking between men and women

Among South Asian Muslims, it is unusual to see men shaking hands with women. Most women do not feel comfortable shaking hands with men. The general rule for men is, wait to see if the lady extends her hand. If not, greet her without shaking her hand. Women in public positions are especially keen not to shake hands in public view because that might infuriate the more conservative section in society.

So I was surprised to see, on a number of occasions, men shaking hands with women here in Saudi Arabia. May be, I thought, the men are mahram--fathers, brothers, sons, grandsons etc.

I was even more surprised to see the picture published in The Arab News in its 22 April 2009 edition. The picture shows King Abdullah of KSA shaking hands with the visiting Bangladeshi Prime Minister, Sheikh Hasina, who is not wearing an abaya, the black dress every woman here has to wear in the presence non-mahram men. Mullahs in Bangladesh, if they ever see this picture, would be in a fix. They would feel the urge to lambast the PM for touching a man who is not related to her. But criticising her would mean indirectly criticising the man in question, the Custodian of the Two Holy Mosques, and the leader of a country that strictly adheres to Islamic principles.

I'm sure they will ultimately find out a way to skirt the issue. May be they would discover a genealogical link between Hasina and King Abdullah. Hasina, after all, she has the title 'Sheikh' dangling in front of her name. Now wait till she shakes hands with Manamohan Singh or Barack Obama.

Photo credit: SPA, Arab News

happy new year!

Mid-April marked the beginning of the Bengali year 1416. Last Wednesday there was a small party in Dammam attended by Bengalis from both Bangladesh and India. The program was held inside a compound and we had dances, music and recitation of poetry. I was told to either sing or read a poem. I opted for the latter because that would be a lesser torment for the audience. We had a sumptuous feast--biriyani, tandoori chicken, beef rezala, etc. I enjoyed my first Bengali New Year in the Kingdom. On Friday, the Indian Bengalis had a day-long program at Jubail and some Bangladeshis arranged a mela (fair) at Azizya. I attended neither, but was glad to know that Bengalis here organize so many events to celebrate their culture.

Happy New Year!

family reunion

I had been unable to post anything in this blog for some time. My wife and two children arrived exactly a month ago, and I had been busy with buying furniture, enlisting their names in my residence permit, getting the kids into a school, and trying to make them get used to life here without feeling bored. The last task, fighting boredom, is still a challenge, especially as far as my better half is concerned. To break the monotony of staying at home, I take them to shopping malls and restaurants, and sometimes to the Corniche or to meet friends. But now the monotony breaking routine itself has become monotonous, and I don't know where else to take them or what else to do. Luckily, some of our neighbours (from the subcontinent) are very social and call on us from time to time. They have made the adaptation process of my family much easier.

samba, crowd, but no carnival

I needed to remit some money home. Somebody recommended that I do it through the Samba Bank. I thought it was a bank with a Brazilian connection. But it turned out to be the local avatar of the Citibank of USA. In this country all foreign banks must operate under a Saudi name, so the Citibank has become the Saudi AMerican BAnk, while HSBC has similarly become the SAudi British Bank (SABB). There is also a Saudi Fransi Bank and a Saudi Hollandi Bank.

There was a big crowd inside, and I was told this was because it was the beginning of the month, so many expatriates were repatriating their wages. People were standing in serpentine queues with grim faces, visibly upset with the pace of the proceedings. I was unaccustomed with the procedures, so I needed some time to figure out what to do. After waiting in several queues, filling up five forms and putting my signature on numerous documents (including the aforementioned forms) I was finally through in only two hours and fifteen minutes (including the inevitable prayer break). The transfer was electronic, so the actual money transfer must have taken just a fraction of that time. The lesson is, if you want to send money through a bank, you'd better do it before pay day.

gun shots for fun

Last Monday evening I was alarmed by the sound of what I thought were gun shots. There were four shots (?) within a span of about five minutes. I peered out of my window to see if there were any clues to what was going on. There weren't. The last terrorist attack in Saudi Arabia took place many years ago. The government has done a good job in curbing terrorism. You can still see the security measures in place. The security barriers around key installations and compounds inhabited by Westerners, the prime targets of terrorists, and the check points on the highways are reminders that in spite of the prevailing peace, there is no room for complacency.

The next day I told a colleague that I heard some disturbing noise the previous night. Before I could say what sort of noise, he asked whether they were gun shots. He told me that guns are sometimes fired for fun during wedding celebrations. And I thought such things could only happen in Pakistan!

an american amongst indians and bangladeshis in saudi arabia

Al Isa Soukh is one of several shopping centres on Dhahran Street near where it meets the Prince Turki street. Take any alley to venture into the area behind the shopping centres, and you'd find yourself in a different world. This rundown area in downtown Khobar, I hear, is the point from where the city grew and spread outwards. The original inhabitants have moved out, to be replaced by migrant workers from South Asia. You will see more Indians and Bangladeshis here than Saudis. You will see signs in South Asian languages, Bengali and Kannara newspapers displayed in shops and snack bars serving puri, dosa or samusa. There's even a paan shop, selling betel leaf with everything that's supposed be in a cone of paan (betel leaf). People clad in lungi (sarong)roam about doing what South Asian men typically do: chat, sip tea and spit on the pavement. You'd feel like you are in a South Asian city. The filthy and smelly environment helps to reinforce the illusion.

So when I met Ted, who has never been to South Asia, I decided to give him a tour of the area. Ted is an American who is on a short visit to Saudi Arabia as an Aramco (the Saudi Oil Company) consultant. We met in blog space and decided to meet in person Monday afternoon in front of Al Isa Soukh. After the tour of the area populated by Indians and Bangladeshis, we headed for a Thai restaurant run by Filipinos. The food was good, although there was nothing special about the "special fried rice." And the "fried chicken" turned out to be stir-fried shredded chicken with assorted vegetables. Ted was surprised to find no napkins; there was a box of tissue instead.

We talked about our lives and families. By the time he looked at his watch, it was already 8 o'clock and he had missed his Aramco bus.

duststorm

On Wednesday morning when I met a young Saudi colleague, he began to talk about the weather after the usual greetings. This doesn't seem to be a common practice here, but my colleague had spent some time in England in a bid to improve his English; and the weather here that day was different and bad.


It was the first of two days of sandstorm. Actually it was more like a duststorm with more dust than storm. When I looked out of the window on Wednesday morning, it was like a thick fog had formed overnight. The sun looked pale, like the moon but a bit brighter. By nightfall, I could smell the dust inside my flat, like you do when you dust stuff that hadn't been touched in years. I had bouts of sneezes and coughs. By the next day everything inside was covered with a layer of very fine dust particles, although all the windows and doors were shut. Friday was spent cleaning up the place to make it habitable.

I am not looking forward to any further opportunities to talk about the weather.

pun intended?

The coverage of the sewerage network is not extensive here. The area where I live has no network. So septic tanks are used instead. The problem is, either due to the relative impermeability of soil, or the high level of underground water table, or both, the tanks get filled pretty fast. There's a big school near my house. A few weeks back I noticed a tanker lorry sucking out the contents of the school's septic tank. Yesterday, when I was going back home, I noticed malodorous water overflowing the tank. This morning on my way to work I found two tanker lorries stationed near the septic tank, getting ready to to swing into action. The name of the company engaged to do the work was emblazoned across the larger lorry-- Areeky. I think it's a mere coincidence but can't rule out the possibility that it was an intentional pun. I hope I won't pass a reeky septic tank on my way home today.

position available for a chimp

I like to read newspapers in their print versions. Internet versions can serve the basic purpose of giving you the news. But newspapers, to me, are more than just a medium of delivering news. It is an indispensable implement for relaxation and part of a lifestyle. The Internet cannot give you (as of yet) the exhilarating smell of fresh newsprint. With the Internet version of the daily newspaper, you cannot solve crosswords or sudoku while reclining in a comfortable position. You cannot drink a reinvigorating cup of hot tea while scanning the news on the Internet without the constant worry about accidentally spilling the beverage on your keyboard.

I like to read classified ads in newspapers just for fun. They give you insights into a society that you may not otherwise get. The two Saudi English dailies feature less than half-a-page of classified ads. Not much in terms of volume, but you can go through all of them without feeling guilty for wasting your time. Here is what I have learnt after following them for several weeks.

1. There are lots of Indian Sunni Muslim bachelors in the Kingdom who are desperately searching for brides. These men are in most cases. Hyderabadi.
2. Indians, bachelor or otherwise, are people least satisfied with their names. Everyday there are many Indians announcing that they have changed their names.
3. Do not entrust Filipinos with the safekeeping of anything valuable. They have a tendency of losing their passports. On any given day, there would be a number of them announcing the loss of their travel documents.
4. Doctors and nurses are a very optimistic lot. They presume they can swap their jobs in remote desert locations with people from the same profession working in bigger, more livable, cities.

There are also 'wanted' ads, looking for people to fill vacancies. Usually they require the prospective employee to have some training and/or experience and a 'transferable iqama'. I know that iqama means residence permit/document required by all expatriates, but I don't know what transferable means in this context.

Recently there was an advertiser looking for a trained chimpanzee. Chimpanzees are not native to the Kingdom, so I am sure all prospective candidates will be expatriates. No mention was made of transferable iqamas, though. I wonder what kind of training the advertiser is looking for. Eating bananas? Climbing date palms? Spitting in the face of onlookers? I mean, what sort of functions do chimps perform, apart from monkey business?

Photo credit: patries71

trip to riyadh

My family has not joined me yet. When I call home, my younger son, aged seven-and-a-half, always asks me if I have seen any camels. I have to explain to him that contrary to his expectations, there are no camels inside the cities here. He is used to see cows, goats and horses strolling free along the streets and grazing in the fields in our city, so it is hard to convince him. My consistently negative response to his queries over the past two months was probably making him wonder whether I really deserve the high opinion he has about me.

I have finally put his doubts to rest. I recently made a trip to Riyadh by bus. It was an evening bus, so I didn't get to see much of scenery on the way. But I boarded a daytime bus for the return journey, and sure enough I spotted lots of camels along the way. I called my son and gave him the news. My status as the most amazing man in the world is no longer under threat.

The SAPTCO (I guess that stands for Saudi Arabia Public Transport Company) bus that took me to Riyadh was a 'VIP' bus. The bus that brought me back was an ordinary one. The fare of the former is almost 150% that of the latter. It has fewer seats, and food (a sandwich and an apple) and beverages (juice and tea/coffee) are served by an attendant on board. Otherwise there is not much difference. The drivers are careful and polite.

I had been warned not to hire a car/taxi, as the drivers have a tendency to cruise at suicidal speeds putting the lives of their passengers and themselves at risk.

Photo credit: kevin (iapetus)

this is a book, in case you don't know

This is the second time that I am going through an extended period of residence in a country where language is a handicap for me. My earlier stay in Japan was easier, because I was enrolled in a language class where I learnt rudimentary expressions used in day-to-day life in Japan. Never mind that the only people who undersood my Japanese were other students from the same school. I tried my newly acquired skills on some Japanese and they apologetically informed me that they didn't speak Greek.

But here in Saudi Arabia there is no such arrangement for us to learn Arabic. I can only rely on what I had learnt at high school. We had two years of Arabic education. I think one of the books was called Alkitabul Jadid (the new book). I don't remember much of what I had learnt. There were sentences like 'attilmizu swalihun' which means something that I can't remember. There was also the sentence 'haza kitab' which means 'this is a book.'

Unfortunately, such knowledge of Arabic is not only inadequate, but also of no practical use. Try to imagine a situation where I might be required to inform someone that 'this is a book'. I can't think of any. If, in fact, I try this phrase on someone, the person spoken to would at best have pity on me, assuming that I have gone nuts; or, in the worst case, take it as an insult assuming that I think he is an imbecile who can't tell a book when he sees one.

I would rather keep my mouth shut than utter inane phrases in Arabic. Khalas.