RuKsaK

The Arabic word for ‘no’, when written, looks like the Playboy bunny symbol.
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Living in Jeddah was out of the ordinary. Women are practically illegal. They must not drive, work, uncover themselves of the black cloak they wear, drink, smoke, sit next to a non-family male. The closest I ever saw to anything like Playboy was the Arabic symbol for ‘no’.
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I met strange people and had strange conversations. Here’s just two of them.
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Alun was a converted Muslim from Middlesbrough with a new life in Saudi Arabia. Middlesbrough’s not the sweetest location in the UK, but I considered Alun’s reaction a tad ham-fistedly obdurate. He wore piddly glasses and the wildest beard I’ve ever seen on a Brit – designed to swallow his torso. We talked about his marriage one day, his second. The first marriage having failed, made this his second, rather than him partaking of half number of wives allowed by Islam:
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‘How long you been married Alun?’
‘Just over three years now like.’
‘Nice. Did you celebrate your anniversary?’
‘No, nuttin' special.’
‘How long were you together before you got married?’
‘Oh, well it was arranged and I had to get the money together for the dowry like. But, anyway mon, I didn’t really meet her until the day before.’
‘Before?’
‘Before the wedding. That’s pretty normal here, although my wife is Palestinian.’
‘Oh, okay. I didn’t know your wife’s Palestinian.’
‘Yeah. I would’ve preferred a Saudi woman, but couldn’t afford one, you know.’
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Toyotas are popular cars with many people in Saudi Arabia. More white Camrys in Jeddah than Tokyo. There are lots of Palestinian women sitting in the back of those cars it seems. I can’t drive. I saved all myself for a Mercedes Benz.
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Getting a lift to work with an affable, but stolid Egyptian colleague:
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‘I’m leaving Saudi Arabia. It’s not safe anymore.’
‘You’ll be alright RuKsaK. Nothing’s going to happen to you.’
‘Foreigners are getting killed on a weekly basis. So, were planning our exit.’
‘RuKsaK, Allah’s Will is the factor which decides. Your fate is decided by him. Not by some militant group in Saudi.’
‘Yeah and what if Allah is willing them to shoot me at the traffic lights?’
‘You have no need for fear. Allah decides.’
‘Okay, and why are you wearing a seatbelt?’
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The sentiments here are verbatim. Just memories scraped from the dusty Jeddah floor and rearranged to no new effect. I feel quite sombre, but grateful I’m not there, slumped at traffic lights with loads of hot metal in my dying brain. I'm jealous that I'm not a Muslim - I just have no sense how to be religious. I could be a Lennonist, a McDonaldsist, a Workist, a Fuckist or a Don't-really-knowist, but am way to dreary to do better.
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This was not an announcement from the Saudi Arabian Tourist Board and only, only a true story.

Allah said 'NO!'

Tuesday, November 16, 2004

Palestinian women, Japanese cars, and seatbelts