Insha'Allah

Many of my friends from home are fascinated with what my day is consumed with here in the Magic Kingdom.

Our lives here can be summed up Insha’Allah. This is an Arabic term to indicate hope for an aforementioned event to occur in the future. The phrase translates into English as "God willing" or "If it is God's will".

This term can also ironically mean not on your bloody life when used sarcastically. The key is beginning to read the subtle nuances of the person delivering the comment.

Most expats here have grown to loath the saying. I have tried to embrace it to the best of my abilities, holding fast to the deeper meaning behind it, when things go for shit in the Magic Kingdom, which happens in the business world more often than not.

Never before have I seen a non-bribery clause in a contract between agency and client.

When the agency then violates the contract by bribing an influential Doctor with millions of dollars to retain said contract, shit hits the fan. The Secret Police investigate, and those committed to running an essential lifesaving service are put on hold, with no pay. Shocking in the western world yes, old hat in Saudi.

So we wait, with options to stick it out and Insha’ Allah those with new BMW’s will return their illegally newly acquired cars and subsequently the money, employees salaries will be paid and people will be rescued from their wrecked cars on the side of the road escaping imminent death Insha’ Allah.

As for life on the compound, while our family waits, we explore options. A potential search and rescue position for a great pilot in Tasmania, one in Malaysia, one in Thailand.

As we wade through the suffocating disappointment of our four-year plan evaporating before our very eyes, we wait patiently for our life direction to unfold. Insha’ Allah.

Compound life goes on. I wake to the blazing sun daily, take Felyx to his private Saudi School, and then return home to attend the compound spin class, followed by a marathon swimming session with Tyl in the pool all before 10am.

I tend to my home brew broom closet wine, gin, and beer experiments, which Ms. Sethi my high school Chemistry teacher would be proud of.

In a mere few months I have managed to master some recipes from the Saudi Survival Guide handed down from expat to expat over the past 25 years.

I then pick Felyx up from school at 1pm, play in the park, swim another couple hours, then head to spend time with the adorable, unbelievably funny Irish house wife contingent for a few nips before dinner.

With that the day is done, as the kids go to bed, and we watch old CSI reruns of seasons past on Dubai One.

Once or twice a week depending, the family loads up on the beach bus headed to the secret exclusive private Beach resorts frequented by the expat community. Saudi’s not allowed. Here we strip off our abayas exposing our bikini-clad flesh to the sun and swim in the delicious Red Sea.

Matt laughs and Kristine and I ignore the Saudi men anxiously trying to penetrate the Silver Sands Beach Resort perimeter on jet skis to get an eye full of “naked” Westerners playing in the waves on shore. Occasionally you will see a burka draped woman flying through the waves with wreckless abandon, life jacket secure over top, adding a splash of colour to the floating black in the sea.

If I need to get groceries, go to the doctor with the children, or run errands, I call a limo service to take me where I need to go if Matt is not available to drive me. At times, it is a pain in the ass, but for the most part I don’t’ really mind. I would not want the stress of driving on these crazy roads. In honesty, I don’t think I have been here long enough yet to miss the convenience of driving. I do however love to see all the ladies pushing back in forth in line awaiting their chance to drive the bumper cars in the mall.

Life here for me is very simple, with so much time to focus on my children, which most westerners do not have the luxury of doing. I feel so fortunate for this opportunity, although some days I miss my rock star production life.

It is a comfortable numb, that may very well vanish in the blink of an eye.

I do not know where I am going next on this journey, but know I am being lead by a force beyond my comprehension.

I no longer pay attention to those who question my decisions as a parent to allow my family to follow the inevitable flow of what has become our life. The life of an expat family is not an easy one, but it does give my children the real experience of the planet as a global community, one that most parents and educators only flap off at the mouth about.

Felyx at the age of five, and Tyl almost three, have filled an entire passport to date with stamps marking their journey around the globe.

Felyx is fluent in mandarin, understands Fijian and Hindi, and is lapping up Arabic at a phenomenal rate.

For all the instability that family and friends see in this life style, I see unprecedented beauty, growth, and opportunity for my family, which I would not change for the world.

Should the world perchance end in 2012, would you be happy with your CHOSEN lot in life? I know I would, and there is no Insha’Allah about that!

Airline Education on Snakes for Children

It is amazing the information that can be gleaned culturally from a children’s story handed out on a Saudi Arabian Airlines flight.

The Prolog

Dear young passenger,

Your renowned Arab grandfather, Abbass Ibn Farnas, a Muslim Scientist, was the first person to attempt to fly, thus he had been considered as a Pioneer of Aircraft Manufacturing. He saw the aircraft in his mind’s eye. He did not imagine it in its present day shape. In fact, he dreamed of flying by fluttering his own feathery wings in the air, just like a bird. This ambitious scientist, however, lost his life in trying to fly. It is generally thought that he failed because he overlooked the vital role of the bird’s tail. This belief is certainly untrue. Though all of us are now aware of the role of the bird’s tail, none of us can dare to make a similar attempt. Allah has guided us to make the airplane that has shortened distances and made it possible for you to easily travel to destinations farther than those visited by your grandfather, the great traveler. But one problem still hangs around. You often feel that you stay on board the aircraft too long and become board due to the limited space you are confined to. Of course, you want to play freely as you usually do. This is not possible on board and aircraft. We, in Saudi Arabian Airlines, have therefore deemed it appropriate to help you stimulate your mind to overcome the monotony of your long stay in your seat. Nothing can be more amusing than reading this book written by “Papa Yaquob”. You will not only overcome boredom of a long flight, but you will also pass this time merrily. You can keep this book. It is your complimentary copy.

Signed,

Saudi Arabian Airlines

The Snake: By Papa Yaqoub

Once upon a time there were two brothers who herd camels. Unfortunately their land had suffered from great drought. Neighboring to their land is a very fertile green valley. One of the two brothers decided to move to that valley to graze his camels. But his brother prevented him because there is a huge snake living in that valley.

Nevertheless his brother made up his mind and determined to move to that valley. There suddenly the snake killed and attacked him.

The deceased brother resolved to revenge for his brother, and kill that snake. But the snake requested reconciliation and peace. The brother responded to that request.

After some days the brother remembered his deceased brother, so again he began thinking of revenge for his brother, and determined to kill the snake when it comes out of its hole.

Just when the snake came out of its hole the deceased’s brother picked up his axe and tried to hit the snake’s head with his axe. But unfortunately the axe missed the snake’s head. The snake was wounded only with a small cut. So the snake has escaped death.

The brother was terrified and became worried for his life. So he requested reconciliation with the snake. But the snake laughed, saying to him “How can I make peace with you, when there is a mark of your axe on my body?”

The End

Upon reading this to Felyx, his response was “Is that the end of the story?”

I replied “apparently, but there are some facts about snakes if you would like to read those with me”.

Felyx asked, “but what about them forgiving one another and becoming friends?” “That is how all stories end.”

I replied, “Well I think perhaps we should re write the end of the story.”

So we did, and they all lived happily ever after in the green valley together discussing the symbolism hidden in the spiritual significance of the snake as an animal totem for the brothers of the dessert.

Snake Totem: www.sayahda.com

Snakes are fascinating creatures that deserve respect. Throughout history the snake has had many legends associated with it linking them to creation, fertility and transformation.
In Israel the snake was regarded as the earth mother and played a beneficial role in fertility. In Egypt the cobra was known for its ability to expand the upper neck into a disc shape by spreading its ribs, which symbolized immortality. In Christian lore the snake is seen rising from the chalice of St. John wound around a cross sometimes portrayed with a woman's head to symbolize lust and temptation. In Eastern cultures a snake rising up through the spine represents the kundalini, or life force being awakened.

One of snake’s most noticeable characteristics is the regular shedding of its outer skin as it grows. Once the skin is shed, the old inner layer becomes the new outer layer and a new inner layer of skin begins to develop. Crawling out of its old skin is very significant for those with this medicine. It is a metaphor for how we shed old ways and habits as we grow into higher spiritual energy symbolizing the death and rebirth process. It is also associated with astral travel and out of body experiences.

The eyes of a snake are always open protected by immobile transparent scales. Prior to shedding its skin the snake’s markings become obscure and the eyes appear opaque or blue. This gives it a trance like appearance as if it is looking right through you. Learning how to see into the hearts of others is part of what it teaches us.

Snake has been a symbol of life and sexuality for thousands of years in many cultures. It is a totem of power, renewal and transmutation. Soundless in motion and invisible at rest snakes are unable to produce their own body heat. They are often seen lying in the hot mid day sun. The suns warmth coupled with the snake’s behavior regulates their body temperature. Not relying on the energy of food to generate body heat, they can survive on meager diets for extended periods of time. Those with this totem need very little food to energize them. They are usually cold and prefer warmer climates. Their body temperatures are often lower than normal.

Snakes lack eardrums and external ear openings but have small bones in the head that conduct sound. They are able to hear low frequency sounds and sense vibrations that travel through the earth. This links them to the underworld where secrets are stored.

The snake symbolizes healing on a cellular level. Because their bodies are lightweight and flexible they have speed and agility. When they enter into your world expect swift changes to sweep through your life. These changes signify a death of the old and a birth into untapped power, creativity and wisdom. Snake is a powerful totem to have. Only those with a high degree of spiritual training, be it past or present, will be awarded this totem. It is the guardian of sacred places and the keeper of hidden knowledge.


Other interesting Saudi Arabian Airlines Facts on Snakes for children:

1. The snake is the most famous reptile known to man, which he fears greatly.
2. The snake has no nose, but can smell through an opening in that frontage of its throat’s roof.
3. Snakes feed on rats, mice, and harmful insects.
4. When a snake wants to pull off its skin it scratches its head with a course object such as a rock around its mouth.
5. Only poisonous snakes have fangs, and the toxic poison comes out though the caved canine tooth and passes to the victim’s body.
6. Poor Indians use some kinds of snakes to display some of their special skills through playing flutes.
7. Different ladies hand bags and shoes are made of snake’s skins.
8. Snakes appear as if they are glaring at you because they have no eyelids.
9. Snakes usually increase in size and length at close periods.

Voice of Allah

Felyx will be five on Wednesday. The time has flown so fast, and he is a child not of this world but merely passed through me to bless this world in ways that are incomprehensible. He is a wise and multi-dimensional being shifting through the universe, much like Mr. Saad Almukhtar. My dear friend, brother, and pure brilliant light that channels the highest purest vibrations of unconditional love through the power in his own unique voice.

I share with you all his incredible call to prayer:

http://www.supload.com/sound_confirm.php?get=594590683.wma

Copy and paste the link into your browser download and enjoy!

I am blessed to hear the call to prayer five times a day here in Jeddah, five being the number of universal consciousness, which I find very interesting. When you listen pay attention to where you feel the vibration in your body for that is the beginning of the roadmap to your self directed healing experience. Enjoy this beautiful experience, for it is a true blessing!

When in Rome

So I have figured out why these Saudi children seem better behaved in public then my own.

A good spanking has never hurt anyone here in the Kingdom. 

Of course, you could have imagined the shock on my face upon witnessing this transgression that was only declared in the western world after I graduated my childhood years.  Boy I remember the days of the ping-pong paddle, and stinging behind clearly. Now it is 1 2 3 Magic and a handful of other new age initiatives that do not seem to work with my stubborn, smarter than me children.

I have tried every other parenting strategy with my two young boys, but of course not this one, as it is unacceptable in Canada.  Surely this must be why these children are so well behaved, no?

Anyway, back to the situation at hand.  This adorable little girl who looked to be about 3 to 4 years of age, was running through the supermarkets entrance.  She was so focused on her father’s trailing thobe, that she missed the lip of the step.  She fell flat out on her wee little face, and was crying and screaming uncontrollably. 

The father rushed to her side, picking her up, kissing her wildly, and wiping her tears away while cooing softly.  I thought to myself, what a wonderful tender loving daddy.

With a quick turn of events, my Saudi Cleaver family episode bubble was burst instantaneously. 

Seconds later, as he lowered her to her feet, he clasped her arm tightly whipping her around to face the lip of the step as he pointed it out.  With a swift few smacks of her behind, he said “Now next time watch where you are going, so you don’t trip and embarrass your family.”  Once again the tears began to flow in silence, and they walked on. 

I have to admit, I secretly have imagined myself spanking my kids throughout the course of the last five years, when filled with absolute frustration and angst.  Show me a parent who has not?

Somehow, I don’t think spanking the children that I am blessed to have would result in a similar outcome.  Perhaps Matt needs to go to Saudi parenting classes just to be sure. ;)

Nanna this post was for you!

Helpful Hints for Western Women living in Saudi Society: Rule # 5

Do not call married Saudi men for abaya fashion advice.

Case in Point:

After several close calls with children ripping open abayas, Kristine and I decided to go looking for a more temper tantrum child friendly version, to avoid exposure.

There are no change rooms in Saudi Shopping Malls.  You buy clothing; take it home to try on, and then return or exchange it depending. Hardly convenient especially when managing small children on repeat shopping mall excursions. Clearly Saudi children are better behaved then my own.

So here we are, child friendly abaya shopping.  The store was lovely, the salesmen excited about the prospect of overcharging westerners for their wears.  Unfortunately for them, I am aggressive, and have learned the art of calculator haggling while in China to circumvent all language barriers.

There was the most amazing bright blue abaya that I had fallen in love with despite the fact that it still did not provide a child friendly solution to my existing potential exposure problems. 

The salesman was nervously waving me to the back of the store, showing me to a broom closet which he was offering as a change room solution to make the sale. I thought to myself, is this really happening?  Then I felt the adrenaline rush begin to kick in at the thought of exposing my clothed body in the secrecy of a broom closet while in a public place.  If only my mother could see me now. 

The abaya fit very well, perhaps maybe a bit too tight across the bust, and I was really unsure if the colour was acceptable.  For Ramadan yes, everyday wear most likely not.  I already had mastered the art of drawing to much attention to myself in almost every situation as it was, so perhaps a bright blue bust hugging abaya would be a bit over the top in a sea of swaying black.

I picked up my cell phone to call Ayah to discuss the colour and her thoughts on fit.  With no answer, and an impulse buy situation on my hands, I decide to call her husband whom I had not had the pleasure of meeting as of yet, but had his number in the event of an emergency, and clearly this constituted an emergency.

He answered the phone, and knew from my accent who I was.  After exchanging pleasantries, he asked awkwardly “Angela are you calling me from the toilet?”

I explained no from a change room broom closet in an abaya shop.   He gasped horrified, “Angela where is your abaya?”  I said, “On the floor of this broom closet, I was hoping you could tell me what would be culturally acceptable for colour and fit.” 

He began to howl with laughter.  “Let me get this straight, you are calling me, a married man you have never met, from a change room broom closet, while not wearing your abaya to ask me particulars of women’s abaya fashion?”  I said “of course, I could not get in touch with Ayah” in a very matter of fact manner, wondering what was the issue.  

Then the reality and ridiculousness of the situation hit me, and we both began to laugh uncontrollably.  He said laughing, “You had better not tell my wife, I don't know you, and you are exposed!” Here traditionally, women are only able to be uncovered in the privacy of their own homes with immediate family.  Certainly not in any public place, even if it is a dark broom closet.  

Once again applying western male / female norms of engagement and interaction logic to any given Saudi situation was a complete breach of respect and dignity.

As it may seem, I am single handedly changing the Saudi social norms here through my presence within our small circle.  In all social situations now my close Saudi friends have a popular “disclaimer” to explain my behaviour with their acquaintances; “It's not right, it's not wrong, it's just Angela!” 

Helpful Hints for Western Women living in Saudi Society: Rule # 4

Do not dance with married men at mixed parties.

Case in Point:

Being invited to a private house party within the first two weeks of our arrival seemed to be a feat of immeasurable proportion.  This surely symbolized acceptance, as these partygoers would be the liberal elite.

I had no idea what to expect, but I had this feeling that I was about to be baptized by liquid fire, or scrutiny which ever came first potentially.  The thought of no social lubricant to ease the social situation was a bit of a stress.

The important points to remember:

1) Don’t look offended when people automatically assume you are American, this puts people off

2) Introduce people with thoughtful details (Thank you Bridget Jones)

3) Don’t fall and break your neck in those stiletto heels while swinging your borrowed Coco Channel handbag sans Kleenex (why can I never remember Kleenex?)

4) Smile and nod even if you do not understand Arabic, or thick accents

5) Kindly excuse yourself to the bathroom if you have nothing intelligent to say and or feel that others are discussing you in Arabic while in your presence

6) Under no circumstances do you tell anyone you are a mere farm girl from Rodney Ontario with a deep-rooted red neck family bloodline

7) Always reek of confidence as you are not wearing cologne

8) FAKE IT till You MAKE IT (Words to live by Thank you Kathleen)

En route, I had envisioned the party scene in my head many times over.  I was certain that it would be similar to the house parties back home minus the keg of beer and keg stands of days gone by.  I did however assume that the majority of the guest would be huddled in the kitchen, a phenomenon typical of the Canadian house party, but surely synonymous the world over.

Leaving my abaya in the car, we streamed toward the house brimming with excitement.  I felt an adrenaline rush knowing I was exposing my feminine form in the Kingdom, my subdued version of streaking in public. 

You could have imagined the shock evident on my face and portrayed through my body language when we waltzed through the door to be confronted with a scene that emulated that of a  “western culture” grade eight-graduation dance party.  I think my jaw literally dropped open. This was nothing I had expected at all, I guess I really was not sure what to expect!   Then it dawned on me that the fact that men and women were converging together for a party was a mere miracle in and of itself.  Typically men and women celebrate occasions, even weddings separately here.  I felt so privileged to be included in this monumental shift in paradigm.

The cloth covered tables, and chairs were arranged in a circular pattern around the implied dance floor.  The DJ was playing loud top forty tunes, the fog machine was in overdrive, and the crazy laser light show was tripping the light fantastic.  For a moment I thought for sure I smelt burnt toast, but then I just realized that my stomach was in my throat, and all eyes were on us, skeptical of who we were and whom we had arrived with. 

Matt nodded reassuringly moving me forward, and I reached for his hand squeezing hard.  Before I knew it I was introduced to the room of reserved shy guests, and found myself sitting in a chair being served decadent ice cream treats by a band of elegantly dressed servants.  The tabletops were flooded with complimentary packs of cigarettes, red bull, and various other beverages. 

To my amazement, everyone had their chairs turned to face the dance floor, and where sitting or standing dancing in front of their chairs, no one dancing together, with one another.  I was aware that I was most likely feeling uncomfortable with all eyes on me because my chair was facing them all straight on and I was not chair dancing.

I sat taking in the whole sensory overload situation, and feeling the tension in the room building decided to jump in with both feet, if this was a mixed party then lets get it started with a little western flavour! 

I leapt out of my seat, and grabbed a gentleman by the arm dragging him to the dance floor.  His eyes darted from me, to Matt, to his wife, and back to me over and over again.  In this gesture, I had broke all of the cultural norms in one sweeping motion. I was not wearing an abaya, dancing with another woman’s husband.

Being at a party on a compound, I assumed all norms of Saudi culture would be tossed aside, and I was free to shake my ass with whom ever I pleased.  My dance partner’s wife looked very unimpressed, so he dismissed himself and returned back to her side, but I did not give up.  I kept grabbing man and woman, one after another until finally I must have hit the jackpot with a ‘single’ guy who was more than happy to sassy salsa with me.  Thank you Barbara Grumme!  You saved my ass, stunning the crowd with my salsa prowess in heels no less, I was able to subdue the men, and quell the wild wives with my dance moves extraordinaire.

The fever was contagious.  Before I knew it the dance floor was full of people vouging, rocking, and intermingling wildly.  It was like a Church street bomb had gone off in mere seconds and I was magically transported back to Fly wrapped up in the curtains with Darcy high on life, as in a flash I was surrounded by the Saudi Dykes on Bikes contingent and the life of the party.  The night wore on old school style, and I missed home a little less as each moment passed. 

I will however be a bit weary of scooping up others husbands to dance, until I get to know people a bit better here, as I am keenly aware I narrowly escaped disaster.

Helpful Hints for Western Women living in Saudi Society: Rule # 3

Do not fondle the MAC Makeup Salesmen because you are excited about a new product line only available in the Middle East, although produced in Canada.

Case In Point:

As a general rule, Canadians are a very easy going relaxed group of people, with a cultural tendency to make direct eye contact when communicating.  Combine this with my touchy feely tendency to use physical contact as a form of reassurance that I am listening and understanding while verbally communicating with others, and you can see how this would offend or make Saudi Men very uncomfortable.

As a relatively new import to the Kingdom, I have not yet been able to reprogram my own deeply engrained cultural socializations tendencies. 

Here direct eye contact, smiling, or a reassuring touch to some man’s arm when talking is highly frowned upon.  Especially the touching part, men and women do not touch here, unless married and in the privacy of their own home.  Perhaps because I feel very comfortable here in Jeddah, I almost forget where I am half of the time. 

I now have to remember not to pinch Matt’s bum in public to drive him crazy, no smooch bite on the cheek, and absolutely no feel my triceps tricks!  So many things to keep in check and remember while being surrounded by the chaos of our children.  That is enough to make anyone crazy these days.

So I find myself at the MAC makeup store at the Red Sea Mall.  Standing out like a sore thumb, the MAC Salesmen approaches me to ask if I need any help.  I explain that I am just looking and he asks me where I am from.  I say Canada, and he perks up, explaining that MAC is produced in Canada.  Feeling a bit home sick, I immediately feel connected to this gentleman through my perceived “Canadian Connection”.  We begin to discuss makeup, and he proceeds to tell me about the line of eyeliners produced in Canada specifically for the Middle East.  I become very excited at the prospect of this marvelous product, as my eyeliner and mascara run continuously here from the heat. 

Showing me the products, I thank him and touch his forearm while making direct eye contact, and smiling brilliantly into his face at close range. 

His eyes flared wide open and he stepped back in amazement and discomfort for sure.  It then dawned on me, that I am forbidden to touch him. 

Trying to make the situation a little more comfortable, I said, “I am not supposed to touch you, am I?”  He politely said, “No”.  I then apologized, and he said, “don’t worry it was wonderful, now I must close the store and go to prayer.”

Nothing like being and feeling like a modern day Jezebel, in a Muslim world.  I am certain that my social tendencies have painted me as such, and feel a little bit more edgy and dangerous as a result; thus I am ok with that!