Family Only

Some of you might have heard in the news that Saudi Arabia has now started implementing a new policy that lingerie shops selling women’s underwear will have to start hiring women shop assistants. This is a law that was actually passed several years ago but is only being implemented now. It’s been exciting to see that shops really have started putting this law into practice. On women’s lingerie shop doors, we’ve seen new signs appear with the text “Family Only”. For those of you unfamiliar with the family vs. singles jargon here, it means that only women, couples and families are allowed to enter. Single males cannot enter these shops because that would mean that the female shop assistants would have to come into contact with men and who knows what the end result of that would be. Here’s a picture of one of the signs. I even managed to get the shop assistant’s head in the same picture. Shop assistants are naturally covered in black from head to toe.

Where have all the muttawa gone, long time passing? (sing to the tune of Where Have All the Flowers Gone?)

Wanted to share this picture taken in Riyadh a few weeks back when we went muttawa hunting. We (well K mostly) wanted to see some angry muttawa telling people to go pray, so we on purpose timed our arrival at an expensive shopping mall just as the evening prayer was starting. Shops were closing and shop assistants were gently asking customers to leave because of the prayers. We hovered around the main entrance the entire 25 min in hopes that we’d see some muttawa come in. We have been told that they love this particular shopping mall and that there might sometimes be two patrols in this mall at the same time making sure that nothing sinful happens. To our disappointment they never showed up. But we managed to snatch a picture of people sitting around waiting for the shops to open up again…



And a picture of some ladies praying in front of a shoe shop…

Hashing

Hashing is a very popular pastime here in Riyadh. Contrary to what you might suspect based on the name it actually has nothing to do with hashis. Hashing is a term for a random bunch of foreigners who get together in the middle of the desert and do some running/walking together in the nice dry Saudi scenery. There is usually a run/walk leader called “hare” who leads the way. Hashing is a nice way to spend one of the 360 sunny afternoons of the year. It’s a good place to meet people and friends and spend some time together. Today’s hash took us to place called End of the World. Check out the pictures. I overheard some Americans actually saying that it looks a lot like the Grand Canyon. 

Magical Moments

Most of the time life in Riyadh is not that glamorous. A lot of it centers around sitting in a car and trying to get from place A to place B while trying to avoid some of what must be the worst traffic on the planet. I mean honestly, driving against the traffic on a street where the speed limit is 100km/h, in the dark without your lights on? Where else than Riyadh do you see that every single day? I honestly don’t know.

There are some magical moments here too though. A fellow expat of ours who has lived in Riyadh for more than 15 years describes one of them like this: sitting by an unnamed country's embassy pool waiting for the party to start with a cold beer on the table in front of you, you bite into your bacon hamburger when the last prayer call of the day starts. That’s the moment when you feel like you’ve outsmarted the system in so many ways, and it feels equally good every time. (Remember, there’s no alcohol, no parties and no bacon in this country.)

More about magical moments in the next post.

“Madam, you may take your abaya off”

Fasalya Tower is what I guess could in Saudi terms be called a skyscraper and one of the landmarks of Riyadh. It’s a tall building right in the center of the city and on top of the building there’s a ball, which is actually a fine dining restaurant. Here’s a picture to illustrate:






After the weird semi-encounter with the muttawa downstairs we took a lift to the restaurant, sat down and were brought hot towels to wipe our hands with. At this time, the waiter turns to me and says: “Madam, you may take your abaya off”. My mind is racing a hundred miles an hour thinking “oh god, oh god… this can’t be happening… no, no, no”. The reason? At every other restaurant in Riyadh, even at FourSeasons, western women are asked to keep their abayas on. So, I wasn’t exactly dressed for an evening at a nice restaurant underneath that abaya. Let it be officially known that I have now dined in a fine dining restaurant in golden stiletto heels, gym pants and a faded t-shirt. Very comfortable if you don’t count the shoes, and best of all… no-one ever knew but hubby.