Mountains and Heart in Saudi Arabia

While packing up to move here to Saudi Arabia I had been doing a bit of research and chatting with people on some forums.  During this time I heard about snow that fell in the north of the country, where there are mountains.  Yes, mountains, and snow, in the desert.  You can bet your blog reading tuckus that I had been aiming to get there ever since.  Luckily for me I am a patient person and also luckily for me I'm aware of the "thoughts become things" way of living life.  So, eventually, my thought became a thing and here I am writing about my trek to the mountains in this crazy desert that is my temporary home.

The mountains are not close to Riyadh.  They're about 600 kilometres away near a small city called Ha'il.  Traveling 600 kilometres through the desert may seem boring to some, daunting to others.  For me, it's an adventure.  Better yet, I LOVE roadtrips.  Also, being a woman in Saudi Arabia and not allowed to drive myself wherever I want to go, when I'm offered the chance to go on a roadtrip, I go.  Anything for a sense of freedom and the chance to sit in the front seat of a car.  It didn't hurt that the company in said car afforded a guaranteed infinite number of laughs and pleasantries as well.   

On the trip north there was nothing overly exciting to note considering that we started our drive after work in the dark.  I may not have been able to see anything, but I could certainly feel a shift in energy as we left the city.  The tension of the city slipped away as we moved farther and farther from it.  I'm not sure if many of you are sensitive to the way a city can make a "country-girl" like myself feel.  It's like being slightly squeezed or contained within some strange confines.  Yet, I'm not quite realizing that it's happening because I'm within it for so long that I get used to it even though something always feels off.  Then, as I leave the city the pressure releases and I feel a quiet sense of peace and freedom that I forgot I was capable of feeling.  It felt so good to be leaving the city.  It felt familiar and it made me feel at home in the desert.

When we arrived in Ha'il I continued to feel a sense of familiarity.  Ha'il is like a small metropolis and it reminded me of a city not far from my home in BC called Prince George.  There is nothing there to attract those who like big fancy cities, but it has everything you need along with a taste of country-life-back-woods attitude.  We arrived at about midnight and finding a place to camp in an unfamiliar area in the dark is hard enough in Canada; try doing it in Saudi Arabia (not recommended).  So, we stayed in a hotel the first night.  Keep in mind that being a single woman and traveling within a small, very conservative, Muslim city in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia is a pretty big no-no religious-law-wise.  The safest way to do it is to travel with a married couple (or two) which is what I did.  If I was to show up at the hotel on my own I am not quite sure what would have happened.  Being a Westerner, even though I am a woman, would have given me some lee-way, but I'm still not sure if I would have been allowed to stay there alone, without a legal male companion (i.e. father, brother, or husband).  I am pretty sure authorities would have been called to question me, regardless, and it's likely that my employer would have been contacted since, technically, he's sponsoring me and is responsible for my whereabouts and activities in this country.

Things managed to be kosher with me staying at the hotel but, upon leaving the hotel, our group was still greeted by the police.  When you think of it, though, it makes sense; it is odd for Westerners to be traipsing around rural KSA.  So, it's actually not uncommon for hotel managers to call police.  The great thing is that it has nothing to do with us being suspicious.  It has everything to do, however, with keeping us safe.  Apparently they are a little paranoid about the well-being of tourists since, a little under a decade ago, there was an unfortunate "wrong-place-wrong-time" incident with some Europeans coming across some locals that were involved in activities they would prefer to not have repeated to the authorities.  I'll leave it at that, but ever since then the Saudi police keep an eye on traveling "outsiders" as a "safety outreach program" so to speak.

Our group arrived at the mountains safe and sound and the police parked nearby while we had fun exploring and playing with ropes on the rock face.  While there we met with some friendly expats that are living in Ha'il.  They extended their friendliness into an invitation for us all to join them back at their compound for some food and continued fun.  We had hoped for an outdoor barbecue but, as odd as this sounds for the desert in November, the weather didn't cooperate.  It rained.  A lot.  With lightening and thunder and all the goodness that rain provides.  Ha'il was really feeling like home; back-country city, mountains, outdoor fun, friendly and welcoming people, and rain.  The rain definitely did not dampen our evening festivities.  It simply brought us inside to good food, great conversation, a lot of laughs, and some friendships that I hope will continue long after our departure from Ha'il.

The next day entailed our group traveling together with our new friends to the sand dunes for some sand-boarding.  Some of the group were a tad speedier at getting up in the morning than others (*cough* including me *cough*) and so they headed off to the dunes first while my group lagged behind.  Unfortunately, using coordinates and gps in KSA doesn't always turn out to be the best thing for navigation.  Somewhere along the way we missed a side road not indicated on the gps device.  So, we missed the opportunity to see some of the largest dunes in the Kingdom.  I'm not concerned.  I have a pretty good feeling I'll be getting back to Ha'il sooner than later.

Since there was no sand-boarding to be had, we headed off back to Riyadh earlier than intended, giving me the chance to see the desert route back to Riyadh in daylight.  It was fantastic!  The desert may be dry, but it certainly isn't dull.  There are beautiful, smooth dunes shaped into domes, some with edges and lips carved into them by the wind creating curving lines and swirls in a never-ending mass of beige.  We saw people parked on the side of the road every few kilometres to have a picnic or with their beautiful rugs laid out to pray upon.  We saw camel herds lumbering across the expanse heading towards a rare patch of desert bushes.  We saw oases, some man-made others natural, along with random patches of grass on irrigated land, Wadis (small valleys) with skinny running rivers, and roads that were cut right through dunes and rock.  It was beautiful, and sometimes haunting, how a land mass that is so dry and seemingly inhabitable could contain so much possibility for life and energy.

The drive was interesting and made even more so by the fact that we almost ran out of gas.  It didn't occur to anyone in the group that there wouldn't be a gas station outside of Ha'il for hundreds of kilometres, so why would there be a need to fill up while in the city?  Again, being a single female in Saudi Arabia had me a little concerned about being stranded on the side of a desert highway.  I was, however, assured that there would not be an issue and, instead, managed to give my companions a good giggle about my "stress-factor" concerning the lack of gas issue.  I did believe that being without gas would be only an issue of inconvenience once I recalled a story that one of our new Ha'il friends had told me.  He explained in the story that Saudis bestow immense hospitality upon people who are in need.  Some foreigners feel it is a requirement of their religion, most believe that Saudis really are just genuinely friendly people.  I like to believe that the latter is the truth.  Regardless, it was comforting to know that, if we had have run out of gas, there was much certainty that we would have been completely fine.

Instead of running out of gas we came across a town just off of the highway where vehicle sustenance would be found, as well as a super sketchy bathroom (I'll let the picture do the explaining).  I loved stopping in at this small town, even if it was just for a few minutes.  It gave me another opportunity to see Saudi Arabia in a different light.  It made this country feel like a humble place with a true sense of simplicity that you cannot find in the hustle and bustle and tension of the city.  It showed me that the Kingdom has a quiet, peaceful, down-home side to it.  It caused me to realize that I hadn't given Saudi Arabia a chance to be a regular country, in my mind, that has a heart with a beat all of it's own; a heart that lies in the rural desert.  Or, maybe I just feel this way because that is where my heart is most drawn to.  Either way, being deep in the desert and feeling this heart, I found that I can feel even more at ease living here in Arabia.

In Joy,
Bonnie

The Feel-Good-In-Saudi Equation

I'm beginning to feel more at ease here in Riyadh.  Thank F&*k!

Please excuse my vulgarity, but I really can't explain how difficult it has been to not feel truly like myself for the past nine months.  I have no idea what it's like to be pregnant (and I don't intend to ever know), but I'm going to equate nine months in Saudi Arabia to my version of being pregnant.  Out of my being has dropped a huge weight of overwhelmedness (that's not a word, but it works so much better than any other word I could think of).  I'm finally feeling like Bonnie again.  I can feel the confusion that I've felt for this place fade and I have more clarity of mind now.  I am understanding Saudi more and rolling with the punches that it still, fairly often, delivers.

There are a few things that I now realize got me over the hump.  I, honestly, didn't even notice that there was such a big hump to get over.  I was just confused and overwhelmed for so long that I wasn't even sensing that that isn't the norm for me.  I have moved a lot since leaving home after high school and I had come to notice that it would take me three months to get used to a place and six months to feel like I knew it well and was comfortable there.  So, my rule of thumb for a move was always to not judge a place until I've lived there for three months and to patiently wait for the six month mark to pass for things to feel more settled and easy.  Saudi Arabia completely threw that system off.  I guess I had come to a point where I just figured I would always feel a bit dazed about this place and my life here.  I believed that Riyadh was just a stopover into the life I have always intended to have back in Canada. 

I had an undercurrent of sadness about life in Riyadh being more of a waiting game than an experience.  I was accepting it, but it didn't sit well with me.  I had no idea what to do about it, however, and so I was just riding this random wave of Arabia, hoping to keep my head above water when things were more confusing and difficult than usual.  In many ways I was doing okay to enjoy the upswings and good times here in this sandy city, but nothing I had been involved with felt like it resonated with my soul.  There were no experiences in this city that really jived with my truest self.  Except for the few deep friendships I have developed here that lighten my heavy heart, I just figured I would have to wait to get home to Canada to experience the heart-soaring feelings that I know life can offer.

Ah, but that all seems to be in the past now.  Apparently I don't have to wait to get home to Canada.  I've finally found a way to live in Saudi that fits, and a group of people here that I am discovering I jive with.  The best part is that I honestly didn't think people like "me" existed here.   Luckily, I was wrong and there does exist people in Saudi who love to explore nature, experience the rush of outdoor sports, understand the happiness that comes from moving our bodies, and like to develop and hone their skills in whatever activity makes them happiest.  Essentially, I have found friends who climb.  These people "get" that being outside heals a sad spirit and enlivens an already upbeat psyche.  They understand the value of waking up early to venture off to a place that encourages scraped knees, bruised arms, sore muscles, and adrenaline rushes.  These people value healthy bodies and even healthier minds.  They recognize the true satisfaction you get from that first swig of beer after a long day of playing in the outdoors. Plain and simple, these people are my taste of home and they're kind enough to bring me along on their fun adventures in this sandy Middle Eastern playground.

Oh yes, the people I've come to surround myself with and the fun adventures they have taken me on have played a huge role in helping me to dust off the mental cobwebs that built up during my nine months in Saudi.  But, they weren't the only factor in helping me to find the real Bonnie again.  While back home during the summer I was able to see things that factored into my well-being that were lacking in Riyadh.  The food I was eating was a huge one.  My diet changed when I came to Saudi.  Please don't let me lead you to think that the food here is bad.  Oh no, Arabic food is amazing and actually healthy in many ways.  So good, in fact, that my boobs, belly, and thighs held onto it, nice and tight.  But, it just is not the type of food that helps me to feel good.  I am the all-natural, organic, no grains, sustainably-produced kind of eater (or as my friend, Melissa, likes to call me, a hippy).  I like to know that my food was made with love and with health and well-being in mind.  I want food stored in glass jars, not plastic.  I want food that was made within the region that I live in.  I want food that was produced in a way that makes me feel good about purchasing it as well as eating it.  So, when I was home I developed a "Bonnie's Wellness Plan" and changing the way I ate in Saudi was at the top of the list.  I stocked up on all natural peanut and almond butters, mate tea, chia seeds, and British Columbian honey and stuffed them in my suitcase to take back to the sandbox.  I copied what seemed like one hundred recipes from my lovely friend, Megan's, paleolithic diet cookbook.  I learned how to make my own almond flour (by the way, it's ridiculously easy).  I came back to Riyadh and found soy milk to drink instead of the cow's milk that just seems to stay drinkable for way longer than any milk should.  I bought cart fulls of vegetables and fruit and nuts and started cooking with my heart rather than ordering food from the restaurants that pay their employees wages that cannot possibly fuel a happy working environment.  And it's been helping.  A lot.  For one thing, the weight I've gained since moving here is dropping off (along with the weight I gained in Paris, but that was weight well worth gaining so it doesn't count).  The act of eating consciously makes me feel good.  Actively taking care of my health and well-being through preparing my own food is a display of respect for myself and reminds me that I'm worth the effort.

Putting effort into "Bonnie's Wellness Plan" has also instilled a motivation in me to get way more stoked about my physical health as well.  Being outside and moving and experiencing adrenaline rushes is fantastic, but here in Riyadh I only get out of the city to climb on the odd weekend and am able to climb indoors regularly only once per week.  It's great, but it certainly isn't what my body is used to.  Sure, I had stagnant times back home, but they only happened a week or two here and there in between daily training sessions with my horse, daily bike rides in summer, regular hikes and runs with friends mixed in with snowboarding sessions on weekends in the winter.  Having activities like that to do with friends means that I didn't have to consciously think about "working out" and building strength and endurance.  In my mind I was just having a lot of fun while moving my body.  Here in Riyadh it's a whole other story.  If I don't put some effort into it, this body o'mine will turn into a flab'o jell'o.  That isn't really my biggest concern, however.  What really pushes me to stay fit is the unhappy part of my not-so-physically-active past that has a tendency to rear it's ugly head when I'm not out and about moving my body.  I was reminded of this just a few weeks ago when I experienced five days straight of major anxiety that could not be explained.  I had the tight chest, belly full of butterflies, tensed neck muscles, and zero concentration typical of an anxiety attack and no amount of reasoning with myself would get rid of it.  That is until I remembered that I hadn't come close to even breaking a sweat in about three weeks.  Two days of having sweat drip off my chin while Shaun T shouted "DIG DEEPER" at me from the computer screen solved that problem (note to Shaun T... if your Insanity workout doesn't equate to me rockin' massive full days of snowboarding when I'm home in December, I will SO be expecting a refund).  With all that being said, staying conscious about strengthening and challenging my body on a regular basis is a must, not just to have a tight ass, but mainly because my mental stability needs it.

So there you have it, folks.  By having like-minded people who let me tag-along on their adventures plus food that makes me feel good inside and out, add to that some serious commitment to working up a major sweat on a daily basis and you've got a Bonnie that feels like she can actually make life in Saudi Arabia be a positive and fun experience and not just a stopover into the awesomeness that waits for me back home.

In Joy,
Bonnie

It's Not The Easiest Thing, Living Here

In a few past blog posts I mentioned that I would talk about why living in Saudi Arabia, especially the conservative city of Riyadh, is not the easiest thing to do.  I've actually been meaning to write about this for a while, but I have a major aversion to writing about negative stuff when I feel like I can't put a positive spin on it.  Something about putting a negative vibe out in the world just makes me shudder.  Words have vibrations after all.  Also, I didn't quite feel like I had a good enough grasp on this place to be able to describe what I was having difficulty with to any degree of understanding or detail.  I'm at a point now where I'm seeing the good alongside the not-so-good of Riyadh and I'm also feeling the fogginess of my transition period begin to lift, so here goes another blog entry, just for you, my curious friends and family and random readers.

Difficulty #1 - SLOW:
Everything is slow here.  And, if it's not slow then it just doesn't happen on time because of the rampant inefficiency of the place.  Also, most things that do get done aren't done correctly until the third try.  I have heard many theories as to why things happen slowly and are done inefficiently here.  The main theory is that there's a laziness factor amongst Saudis and the other nationalities that work here.  I don't like to generalize because I think that there are many awesome workers around here.  I believe there's something more to it that I would only be able to figure out if I was working amongst these people.  The bottom line is, if I need anything official done, like a travel visa or a mail order, I can be guaranteed that it will not be completed when I expect it to be.  It will, however, miraculously happen when the pressure is on and it MUST be done.  But, only if it is REALLY needed.  There is a saying here that has the acroynm "IBM."  When you ask a Saudi person to do something the first thing they say is, "Insha'Allah" (if Allah wills it).  This could mean yes, or it could mean no.  And the most frustrating part of it is you can never tell which one it is.  Never.  When what you asked for hasn't been done when it was expected and you ask the Saudi person again they will say, "Boukra" (tomorrow).  When tomorrow comes and it still hasn't been done the Saudi person will say, "Ma'lesh" (Nevermind; take it easy; no worries - in this context it basically means it's probably not going to happen any time soon, if ever.).
Positive spin:
This is a really good way to gain a sense of zen.  Bottom line is, you get taught pretty quickly here that you have very little control over how things get done, when they get done, and that there is no guarantee of them actually getting done.  You just submit a request and hope for the best.  What this does is teach you to sit back and let the Universe handle the rest.  If it is supposed to happen it will happen.  You learn that you won't die if something doesn't get completed within a certain time frame.  Sometimes you even recognize that the time frame within which something gets done is actually better than when you were hoping it to be completed.  And, if you don't relax and let things happen when they will you'll turn into a ball of stress and poor health.  That's not my scene.  I choose the zen route and I'm grateful for the intense practice that I get here.  Luckily, now that I'm making connections with "official" people, I'm starting to gain a sense of the ins and outs of things and am able to have things completed a little more quickly.  Not because I'm manipulating the system, but simply because there are more efficient routes that I wasn't originally aware of.

Difficulty #2 - Lack of Standards:
This kind of relates to Difficulty #1, and it is the lack of customer service here.  I often get the feeling that nobody in the service industry in Saudi Arabia really cares about the needs of the customer.  I know this isn't true and I know that there are places and workers who have standards of service and workmanship that they proudly stand behind.  I just have to look REALLY hard for them.  Luckily my friend, Munira, has an amazing repertoire of knowledge as to where these stores and people are so I'm doing okay in that department.  Before I met Munira, however, I was often appalled at how nobody really cared to help me get what I needed when I was paying them money.  I walked away from a number of purchases simply because I felt I was being treated poorly.  I've also gotten very angry, a few times, with some people who were in a position of power (security guards at my compound) who were being very unreasonable with me.  I felt terrible for getting worked up enough to get angry at someone.  I am the last person to even consider raising my voice in any circumstance and I pride myself in knowing when to stop talking and breathe when the pressure and frustration is high.  Therefore, this is a good example of how exasperating people who work in the service industry and/or public realm here can be.
Positive Spin:
I'm learning how to advocate for myself here.  I've experienced two extremes on how to handle situations where I could be "played"; one extreme where I am my typical polite Canadian self and allowing people to take advantage of the fact that I will let things slide simply to avoid confrontation; to the other extreme where I am riled up to the point of anger and using force and influence to get what I want (Westerners are often given more respect than other nationalities here and it is something that can be taken advantage of).  I'm coming to find a good balance now where I can be assertive while using warmth and kindness paired with strength and knowledge to stand up for myself and get what I am warranted.  I am coming to know the subtle ways of arguing my point while allowing others to feel like they are heard and understood.  I'm also learning when it is worthwhile to actually just let something go.

Difficulty #3 - Prayer Times:
Running errands isn't a simple task of getting into a car and heading to the grocery store or mall.  Saudi Arabia has times when everything is shut down for Muslims to practice their prayers.  I'm all for giving people the chance to practice their religion, so I don't begrudge them this at all.  I think it's great that they don't have to worry about leaving their post to go pray.  But I can't deny the fact that it is uber inconvenient for me that at approximately 12:00, 3:30, 6:00, and 8:00 everyday all stores and restaurants are shut down for 20-30 minutes.  This means that I have to calculate the best time to head off to go shopping and rush through a purchase if I want to finish up at a store before prayer is called.  I've had many times where my shopping trip was extended by a good 30-45 minutes simply because I miscalculated how long it would take for me to finish up.  Many times I've also been locked IN at either a restaurant or a grocery store because I decided I was done and ready to go during the period of prayer (restaurants and grocery stores don't kick you out the way other retail establishments do...they simply allow you to remain inside to continue shopping or eating while the clerks and waiters go off to pray).
Positive Spin:
I love the call to prayer or Adhan.  It's so ethereal and beautiful to hear the Muezzin sing out the announcement that it's time for the Muslims to close up shop and get themselves situated for praying.  You can hear it wherever you go because it's announced over loudspeaker throughout the city and in all buildings.  Here's a cool recording of it I found on YouTube:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UlLaUCAQlQQ

Difficulty #4 - Not Allowed to Drive:
 I'm not the type of girl to spout feminist debate and rant about the inequality of women, but not being allowed to drive?  In the 21st century??  Come ON!!  I knew this was something I would be dealing with when I moved here.  I figured I would just roll with it, and I have done so.  The thing is, the longer I stay here the more not being able to drive irks me and wears on my patience.  It really is incredibly hard for me to not have the freedom to just get up and go whenever I want.  I am an extremely independent person and, while I have amazing male friends who are generous with offers to drive me to get groceries and do other chores, it kills me to have to rely on them.  I can get drivers, which helps in the independence department, but they need to be scheduled.  If I don't plan far enough ahead there's a good chance I won't be able to get one.  If I can get a driver, many of them have no idea where I want to go either because they can't speak English very well or they simply have no clue how to get to the place I am aiming to go to.  So, a simple desire to just get something done, for example, like a picture custom framed, turns into a big mess because I'm not sure of an actual place to go get this done and my driver has no clue what I mean by the word "frame."  Along with this, some drivers scare the crap out of me.  The driving here, in general, is scary.  Add to that a driver who has no sense of what defensive driving is and seems to think that weaving in and out of traffic is the best way to get somewhere and you've got a girl who's almost in tears wishing that she could just drive her own frickin' car.  Going back to the many drivers who never know where the place is that I want to go; I would gladly tell them how to get there but I don't typically know either.  If I could drive my own car, however, I would happily go exploring the city and get familiar with the place.  A friend once said to me that she has been here for over a year and still doesn't feel any connection to the city.  She said that, when she leaves her compound, she feels like a visitor to Riyadh.  I've been here for over nine months now and I completely agree with her.  I know that there are some amazing places to see here, right in the city, and I have no way to truly get to know them.  It's not like this city is walking/biking/public transit friendly.  The only way to really explore Riyadh is to drive around and I can guarantee you that, unless I have my own private driver, I am not going to be able to do this.  Bottom line, the not-being-allowed-to-drive situation makes me sad.  I live in such an exotic and interesting place and I am likely never going to get to know it the way it deserves to be known.
Positive Spin:
This is a hard one for me to put a positive spin on.  Probably because the sores created by being prevented from driving are always so raw for me.  One thing it does is make me more organized when it comes to what I need to do and when I need to do it.  When my fridge is almost empty, I schedule a good two hours for a trip to the grocery store and stick to that schedule.  When I have supplies for therapy at work to buy, I research where I have to go to get them before I even call a driver (which means, yet again, relying on someone else to help me because the stores here have crap for websites).  And, when it comes down to it, I am learning to simply take many deep breaths and recognize that I may just not get things done that don't desperately need to be done.  This, essentially, means that if it isn't getting groceries, buying therapy materials, or getting to the indoor climbing wall then it probably won't happen.

Difficulty #5 - Language Barrier:
Oh my gawd, I am so ridiculously bad at learning a second language.  Combine that with the fact that almost everyone here can speak at least a little bit of English and are always wanting opportunities to practice and you have one horrible Arabic learner.  Plain and simple, I'm a lazy English-language speaker.  I am not proud of this.  Yet, this fact still does not motivate me to learn Arabic.  I will admit that, even though I have learned how to say left, right, straight, and stop in Arabic I can't for the life of me remember what those words are right now.  And these are words that I need to direct my drivers (see Difficulty #4 above)!  I am well aware that I make life more difficult for myself here because of my lack of Arabic language knowledge.  I really can't give any insight as to why I am still not motivated to work harder at learning Arabic.  The simple fact of the matter is, I just have no desire right now to put the energy into this task.  If anyone has any tips on how to get my ass in gear in this department, please feel free to share them in the comments below.
Positive Spin:
I have very quiet and peaceful drives to and from work because my drivers speak basically no English.  When they do try to speak to me in English and I try to speak to them in Arabic it often turns into a hilarious mess and we get a good giggle from it.  And, for some odd reason, when I do try to speak Arabic the people I'm speaking to absolutely love that I try and seem to find me endearing because of it.  Then, forgivingly, they break into speaking English with me to put me out of my misery.

Difficulty #6 - Friendliness Being Taken the Wrong Way:
I'm a friendly person.  I like to smile and make the people around me comfortable.  I am not someone who gets her way through being forceful or blunt.  "You catch more flies with honey" is my motto.  This has gotten me into some uncomfortable situations with men who have been assigned to help me with various tasks at work and who also happen to be single.  For me, simple conversation and small talk that occurs amongst business tasks is just that, simple conversation and small talk.  I've come to realize that, for a single man in Saudi Arabia who does not live on a compound, this type of interaction indicates that I must be aiming to marry him.  For example, mentioning that I love animals and talking about my past equine endeavors when a particular single man asked about the picture of my horse on my computer screen turned into me receiving about 20 pictures via text of this man's family farm's animal residents.  Later, after watching a movie in which an actress reminded him of me, I received a YouTube link to the theme love song to that movie.  I've also had a driver call me outside work hours to tell me, in extremely broken English, where he lives in case I care to visit.  These are just a few examples of the uncomfortable and mainly amusing situations that I've found myself in as a result of being friendly to the men here.
Positive Spin:
This has forced me to recognize a cultural divide and to shift my perspectives rather than to simply get annoyed.  There was nothing creepy about these men.  The movie-theme-texter was, and still is, a great person to work with and very reliable.  He simply isn't used to dealing with women.  A friend of mine explained that these guys live in apartment buildings that only house single men.  They are only allowed in the "singles" sections of restaurants where no women are allowed.  Men are not allowed to talk to women in public unless the women are their sister or mother or daughter.  They, essentially, can only ever associate with other single men.  And, if they happen to be living in Saudi Arabia but aren't Saudi, they may not even have the opportunity for a marriage to be arranged for them.  So, when they get the chance to talk to a woman and she's single their brains shift into a gear that resembles a thirteen year old boy who went to a boy's only boarding school all his young life and suddenly is given a chance to study with a girl.  These men have no clue what to do and how to read signals.  I, of course, forgive them this and have learned to be more clear and precise and less "friendly" when I work with them.  I've also become an expert in dealing with the awkward let-down, even though some of my friends seem to think I'm still too friendly in these circumstances.  Regardless, it has made for some funny and innocent stories. 

Difficulty #7 - The Caste System:
I have a really hard time with this one.  In this country it seems that the only way to get respect here is to come from an affluent country and to have an embassy that will back you up when you're in a bind.  Equality for all is certainly not an aspect of the mentality of the typical Saudi Arabian (keep in mind that there are many Saudi Arabians that are respectful and kind to all people no matter where they come from).  I have worked amongst some amazing and capable women and have dealt with some very sweet and helpful men from countries like the Philippines, India, Pakistan, Sudan, Egypt, as well as others.  These people, more often than not, get paid much less than a westerner would get paid in the same job, get placed in housing that is far below the standard that a westerner is placed in, work hours much longer than a westerner would ever be expected to work, and are manipulated in ways that a westerner would never ever experience.  It kills me that I get weekends to do as I please while the people I know from these countries are lucky to get one day to themselves every 10 days and then still have to get written permission from their "sponsors" in order to leave their apartment building.  This is just one small example of how much better I have it here compared to the people I know from less affluent countries.
Positive Spin:
I am so utterly aware of how lucky I am to be from Canada.  The gratitude I have for the opportunities that I have been given just simply for being born in Canada is immense.  I am also so glad that living in Saudi Arabia has opened my eyes to the ridiculous acts against human rights that occur in this world.  I know that I still don't even know the half of it.  Knowing what I do know, however, makes me want to help in ways that I am capable of doing so.  I'm still learning and beginning to recognize where I can play a part in this huge issue of inequality.  In time, I know I'll figure out what I can do that gels the best with my abilities.

On that super bummer, yet interesting, note I will end my list of "Difficulties in Saudi Arabia."  I'd like to say that this list is comprehensive.  It isn't.  I could go on, but I fear doing so would put me on a road to depression that I really would like to avoid experiencing.  All in all, this place is an amazing learning experience and I know that personal evolution is happening at a rate that I can't even come close to comprehending at this point in time.  I've come to learn that, if you want to grow and become a better person, challenge yourself and place yourself outside your comfort zone.  I am definitely doing that by living in Saudi Arabia. 

In Joy,
Bonnie

My Work'ation: Part Four - A Love Affair With Light and Colour

 ...continued from My Work'ation: Part Three - A Long and Luxurious Bath in French Culture

It has been established that Paris is a great city whose downfalls are greatly outweighed by it's positive points.  There is something, however, that really makes Paris amazing and guarantees a return visit by me.  Paris holds in its grasp the art of the Impressionists and, more specifically, Monet. 

Monet's art is something I was introduced to a long time ago, but I had no idea the effect that he would have on me in the future.  I always knew that I enjoyed paintings.  I can't remember the first time I noticed the actual beauty that exists in paintings nor the feelings that looking at something beautiful on canvas gave me, but, for a long time I had an affinity for certain paintings that I came across in books, on the internet, and via other media.  I didn't know why and I really had no interest in figuring it out.  I just always knew that certain artists, especially one named Claude Monet, had painted some pieces that I really liked to look at.  Edgar Degas and Pierre-Auguste Renoir were also two cool painters whose works had a tendency to cause me to pause when flipping through pages and websites.  I had no idea that all of these guys were members of the "French Impressionist Era" club.

our trusty tour bikes

Considering my un-investigated enjoyment of Monet's art, it made sense that, when I came across a tour by Fat Tire Bikes involving a train ride to the French countryside plus bike riding, plus a visit to Monet's garden, I would feel the pull to sign up for it right away.  It was great idea; a taste of a cool painter, whose works I always enjoyed viewing, along with two of my favourite things in life, countryside and biking.  Little did I know that this tour would be a catalyst to an entirely new experience for me.  One that involved a fair chunk of learning and a whole lot of falling in love with art.

water lilies at Monet's garden

The tour was hosted by a guy named Kit who would probably have caused me to completely abandon my interest in biology and turn into an art history nerd if he had been my junior high arts teacher.  I hung on his every word and was even compelled to write some of what he said down, simply because I didn't want to forget his best "quotables."  One thing that hit home for me was his observation that, "we respond emotionally to light."  For any of you who've taken high school physics (and actually payed attention) you know that all colours are a reflection of various wavelengths of light.  It turns out that the colours, the light, that the Impressionists used in many of their paintings, especially Monet's landscapes, are colours that reflect wavelengths that emotionally resonate with me.  I learned a lot about art and the Impressionists and Monet from Kit.  Too much to go into detail here.  What is most important about my time on Kit's tour was that I became armed with a knowledge about art and Monet that would point me in a direction to enjoy paintings in a way that I knew other people experienced but I, personally, had never accessed before.

Blue Water Lilies by Monet at Musee D'Orsay

Soon after the tour I headed to the Musee L'Orangerie where eight (out of approximately 250) of Monet's paintings from "Series des Nympheas" (a series of paintings featuring the water lilies in his garden) are located.  Keep in mind that I was armed with knowledge of Monet's past, his career, and had just seen his beautiful garden in person.  The eight paintings portray his pond and water lilies from various perspectives and elements of light.  These are BIG paintings, approximately 18 feet long and 6 feet tall (totally my own estimates...nothing factual here) and they surround you in two oval shaped rooms, four paintings per room.

As soon as I stepped into the first room I felt at home.  The colours of Monet's paintings are the colours of happiness for me.  While simply standing in front of "Reflets verts" I felt myself slip into a zone of peace that I've only ever felt during deep meditation.  And this was in a room filled with people chattering away about the effects of the brush strokes and the thickness and layers of paint that Monet used.  Needless to say, Monet had an effect on me.  When I wasn't completely mesmerized I spent my time stepping closer to Monet's paintings to see the splotches of paint and colour placed in ways that appeared so random.  Then I would step back and watch as those splatterings of colour transform into an actual image; a beautiful image of water, trees, flowers, and light.

water lily pond green harmony by Monet at Musee D'Orsay

The art experience was not yet over.  I still had Musee D'Orsay to visit where I could experience more of Monet and was able to check out all of his Impressionist friends' work.  I happily ventured up to the corner gallery on the fifth floor of the museum.  It was here that I saw Monet's "water lily pond" and had the most amazing  feelings of joy well up inside of me that I found myself holding back tears.  Art, apparently, had become an intense experience for me.  It gave me a rush that I never had before and I was addicted.  I stood for ages in front of one painting after another not noticing my growling belly nor my sore and tired feet.  I was completely captivated.  I was on a high floating from one painting to the next.


It's amazing to be able to walk amongst paintings knowing that the people I had learned about from Kit (as well as from a book about the Impressionists that I bought while at Monet's garden) had actually touched these pieces.  It was THEIR brush strokes on THAT canvas.  It was THEIR minds that decided to put THIS line here and use THAT angle there.  These paintings were reflections of how the artists perceived their own worlds; reflections of the scene that was directly before their very eyes at a point in time in history.  So, essentially, I was entering the world that they were living in when they created that painting.  Not only was I seeing pieces of their worlds, I knew a bit of what had been happening in their lives during the period in which they were painting them.  I understood the significance of why they used such dark colours for the background, or the reason there was a dog in the corner of a painting, or why their model was posed in such a way.

the bridge at Monet's water lily pond

This is what experiencing art is all about.  To lose myself in a painting and then step back and let my mind wander into the world of the artist and imagine what it may have been like to brush his or her paint onto the canvas one loving stroke at a time.  This, for me, is Paris. The Impressionists.  The art.  The rush.  The high.  I will definitely be going back to see it and feel it again.

astride my awesome Fat Tire Tours bike

In Joy,
Bonnie

My Work'ation: Part Three - A Long and Luxurious Bath in French Culture

...continued from My Work'ation: Part Two - These Are My Favourite London'y Things

I will confess that, even with good friends in Riyadh who are from France, the French intimidate me.  That, plus having begrudgingly left the robust happiness of London and my British friends who had spoiled me, created apprehension about being in Paris.  As much as I hate to admit it, I wasn't doing a very good job of even giving Paris a chance to woo me when I first arrived.

Musee D'Orsay

I do have a miniscule justification for this (okay, absolutely tiny almost non-existent justification).  Anyone who's been in Paris, even my French friends themselves, will admit that there's a coolness to the city.  Parisians flow on a river of non-chalance.  Nothing seems to be impressive to them.  They appreciate life and all it has to offer, but don't feel the need to get excited about it.  Something could happen that would make me want to jump up and down with glee, clapping my hands and giggling like a little girl; a Parisian would react by simply saying, "That's good," with slightly raised eyebrows and one nod of his head.  Sometimes I think that all those cigarettes they smoke are laced with a strange version of marijuana that makes them exist in perpetual chilled out aloofness.

Inside the Louvre

This is not a bad thing.  It can be a little unnerving, especially for me considering that I resonate with people who exude warmth.  To be around a culture that is more reserved with their warmth causes me to have a hard time relating.  When I can't get a "read" on people I have a tendency to avoid them.  Well, that and the language barrier doesn't help either.

At the gardens of Chateau de Versailles

I wondered how I was going to handle this challenge.  I was concerned that it would hamper my ability to find the appeal of Paris.  Turns out that it put me in a perfect position to be motivated to take advantage of tours.  So, off I went on adventures to Notre Dame, the Louvre, Musee D'Orsay, Musee L'Orangerie, and Jardin des Tuileries.  I roamed around the city on a tour bus.  I visited Chateau de Versailles.  I even traveled to Monet's garden in Giverny.  I learned so much French history and took in so much art during my weekends in France that I might as well have been adopted by Paris.  I was ready to buy a beret and start smoking.  The only thing stopping me was my inability to speak French...oh, and the warm versus cool personality factor.  Not sure if I could master a cool demeanor.

LaDuree - French Pastry makers extraordinaire

While I was definitely getting familiar with Paris' past, I still felt uncomfortable with it's people.  Okay, so maybe not all of it's people.  To be honest, 85% of the Parisians that I encountered were actually quite friendly.  The restaurant waiters make up the other 15%.  That did not prevent me from eating, however, and what I ate was bread.  Those of you who know me well know that I don't eat a lot of bread.  In fact, I tend to not eat it at all.  With all the hype about Paris' bread I had to at least try it.  Oh, excuse me a moment............. ah, okay, that's better.  Sorry, I had to pause and grab a napkin to wipe the drool off of my chin.  French bread is AMAZING!  Just thinking about it makes my mouth water.  My favourite part of the day was to sip a cappuccino while eating pain au chocolate.  My second favourite part of the day was to sip a cappuccino while eating a croissant.  My third favourite part of the day was to sip a glass of wine while eating a french baguette smothered in creamy butter.  Of all the adjectives that are within this brain of mine, I could not begin to properly describe the deliciousness of the bread in France.  I don't ever want to eat bread anywhere else but in France for fear it may hamper my ability to remember my experience with French bread.
 

Denise, Scott, and I enjoying wine at the Eiffel Tower

The eating factor in Paris did not happen alone, luckily for me.  Even so far away from a population of people that I'm comfortable with, I still managed to connect, with old classmates in fact.  It still amazes me to think of the serendipity that placed me in Paris on the very weekend that my friends, Scott and Denise, were visiting on their anniversary.  It was such a strange and amazing feeling to be sitting at a restaurant, in Paris, chatting about the fun parties we had back in Halifax and the "goings-on" of all our old mutual classmates.  I felt like a piece of my history - the person I was before becoming the person I am - was sitting there with me while Scott, Denise, and I updated each other on our lives.  And then, when Scott suggested we buy a bottle of wine and drink it, picnic style, on the lawns in front of the Eiffel tower I realized that I couldn't have asked for a better night in Paris.  Top it off with seeing the tower's light show at midnight and it was yet again confirmed that I have an amazingly fantastic life.

Daniel and Chelsea enjoying pear cider on the train

The friend connections did not end there, though.  Heading off to Monet's garden in Giverny I only expected a nice day of bike riding and flower smelling.  It wasn't long, however, that I realized I had some cool people surrounding me on this tour that were worth getting to know.  Daniel and Chelsea were my English-speaking saviors after a week of being surrounded by Parisian natives.  Sadly, we had a very short period that we would all be in Paris at the same time.  So, only one night of revelry at a Paris restaurant was to be spent together.  We made it a good one with far too many politically incorrect jokes and far too loud bursts of laughter, for the Parisian's taste, at least.  Meeting Chelsea and Daniel was definitely a cherry on my Euro-trip sundae and I would've loved to have had more time to get to know them better.  Alas, it was not to be and so the rest of my time in Paris was spent taking in the sites to the fullest extent, albeit alone. 

A view of Paris courtesy of Denise

It wasn't so bad to be in Paris by myself.  It really is an amazing city and it's easy to get lost in it's esthetics.  The French certainly know how to take a city and make it beautiful.  I'm not typically one who can look at something man-made and consider it stunning, but Paris definitely came close.  Just standing on one of the many bridges crossing the Seine I would get a feeling of openness and expansiveness and yet there are buildings all around.  The city planners back in the day knew what they were doing.  While standing in Place de la Concorde (the square where Marie Antoinette and King Louis XVI were beheaded) I can look to the east and see the Jardin des Tuileries and the Louvre beyond that; I look west and I can see in the distance L'Arc de Triomphe; I look north and see two stately and identical stone buildings separated by a road that takes you to Eglise de la Madeliene, a pompous looking yet beautiful church that Napolean had built; I look south beyond the Pont de la Concorde (a bridge that crosses the Seine) and see the prominent building that houses the French National Assembly.  This is just one example of the symmetry in the city that is almost hidden until you stop to take notice.  Without even taking pause, however, you can feel the balance of it all.

L'arc de Triomphe - courtesy of Denise

Paris bridges - courtesy of Denise

It is odd for me to feel balance and calm when I'm in a city.  Typically, I can only gain a true state of peace when I'm in the forest or when I'm rocking a solid meditation session.  So, when I felt a sense of intense peace in Paris I was, essentially, blown away.  It wasn't Paris' architecture that did it for me, though.  It was the art.  But, that's a whole other story to be saved for the next blog entry.

Stay tuned for My Work'ation: Part Four - A Love Affair With Light and Colour

In Joy,
Bonnie

My Work'ation: Part Two - These are My Favourite London'y Things

…continued from My Work'ation: Part One - A Sad State of Mind

I had been in London for five days before my weekend began.  During those five days, while traveling around the city working in parks with my little student and finding playgroups for him to attend, I was taking note of the sites that I might want to check out later.  Our driver, whom I’ll call Mr. N, was fantastic.  He called me darling every time I asked him a question.  “Okay, darling.” He would say when I asked him to drive us to a certain park.  “Yes, darling.” When I asked him if that was Queen Victoria’s statue. “The changing of the guard, darling.” When I watched, fascinated, as the Beefeaters marched towards Buckingham palace.  Mr. N. was more than happy to explain to me where I needed to go for anything I wanted to do.  So, when the weekend arrived I had my plans all set out.  Tower of London Saturday morning, St. Paul’s Cathedral Saturday afternoon, check out a London band at a nearby pub Saturday night, brunch with my old friend, Paul, on Sunday, followed by a bike tour of the city.  First thing was first, though.  It was Friday night and Bonnie wanted a beer.

St. Paul's Cathedral peeking out from a London Alleyway

I asked the doorman what pub nearby was a good one to visit.  I specified the need for some live music to give me something to do while enjoying my beer.  I wasn’t fond of the idea of looking like a lonely sap nursing a beer at the bar on a Friday night.  He pointed me in the direction of a piano bar, which wasn’t exactly what I was aiming for, but I figured that it couldn’t hurt to at least check it out.

While walking to the bar I passed by pub after pub, each one with a large group of loud and laughing Londoners milling about the front having a cigarette or, as with one gentleman in particular, urinating on the street light pole.  It was apparent that the local drinking begins directly after work hours; therefore I was four hours behind in the beverage-consuming department.

I found my target piano bar and was not disappointed.  The entertainment was talented and the crowd was happy and in a dancing mood.  I ordered my beer and leaned against the bar to watch the antics.  It was an interesting perspective as I’m usually part of the dancing and fun-having crowd.  I didn’t realize how entertaining it could be for on-lookers.  It wasn’t long, however, that a sweetly smiling guy came up to me,  stretched out his hand, and asked me to join him on the dance floor.  Off I went to become one with the London merrymakers. 

The dancer in question was named Ravi and our dancing soon turned into some great conversation.  A friendship was quickly bonded.  Unfortunately, Ravi’s carriage was turning into a pumpkin all too soon and he had to leave the revels early.  He promised to show me around London while I was in town and then was off.  It didn’t take long for me to get myself back on the dance floor, however, continuing to make new friends and insuring that my fun evening lasted early into the morning.

London Bridge

As it happened, the plans to be a true tourist in London did not turn out very well.  Since I was dragging my tired danced out ass back to the hotel only a few hours before the Tower of London tour was to begin, that idea was awash.  I did make it to a few cool historical places but I discovered that London was going to be a place of spending time with dear friends and socializing.  Yes, this may have been because my weekend socializing often meant I was waking up too late and in a state of health not conducive to touring around historical buildings for hours on end.  I think, however, that it had more to do with the fact that my heart and mind were filled with friendly connections and kindnesses that tour guides can’t quite give you.

Lichfield Cathedral in the English countryside

Afternoon tea with Emily

Something happened during the time I spent with my friends in England, both old and new.  Between my excursions to the lovely borough that Paul lives in; and a weekend jaunt to the English countryside to visit my friend, Emily, and her husband, Paul; and the post-work evening meanderings around London proper with Ravi I came to realize that London was giving me the feeling of familiarity that I get when I’m home.  I was given the opportunity to experience London, and England, as if I were a part of it and not just a visitor.  The connections with my friends allowed me to connect with London.  I no longer felt so overwhelmed by the crowds of people.  Instead, I learned where the quiet boroughs of the city were.  I also learned the benefit of the weekend escape to the country.  A little hustle and bustle in the crowds were bearable knowing that, when work was finished, I could find my happy place with Ravi by my side in the comfort of my friendship.

Yes, I fell in love with London.  I could spend three blog entries detailing each aspect of that city that makes me love it and another three to describe the beauty of the English countryside.  I will not do that but I will do something to give you a taste of what I love about England.  I transformed a familiar little “ditty” on my last day in London due to being giddy with the happiness that being in England had helped me to find again.  Please forgive me, as I was a tad sentimental. You will understand when you read on.

My Favourite London’y Things

(To the tune of The Sound Of Music's "Favourite Things")

Getting intimate with the locals

Buildings with gargoyles and gorgeous cathedrals.
Train rides and tube rides; public bikes to pedal.
Statues and monuments for all eyes to see.
They’re why London is my favourite city.

Hot men in crisp suits with great shoes and nice hair.
Parks filled with animals and bird songs floating through the air.
An accent that pulls at my fragile heart strings.
These are my favourite London’y things.

History that humbles my short existence.
Boroughs with green parks and fabulous substance.
English countryside and quaint towns so sweet.
This is why England has made me happy.

When the sandbox
Makes me crazy
I'll just get away,
By simply going online and booking a plane
To London then I’ll feel sane!

Stay tuned for "My Work'ation: Part Three - A Long and Luxurious Bath in French Culture" where I tell you about my experience with Paris...oui, oui...ooh la la!!

In Joy,

Bonnie

My Work'ation: Part One - A Sad State of Mind

Any of you who've been following my blog may have noticed a significant decrease (*cough* non-existence *cough*) of blog entries during the summer months.  Well, to explain, I've been far away from my writing head-space and eye-ball deep in traveling.  A little for myself, and a lot with work.

I would go into the details of my vacation home to my beloved British Columbia, but this blog is about my adventures in Saudi Arabia.  Plus, many of you already know the ins and outs of the fabulous'ness that is British Columbia so you don't need my descriptions of it.  I suppose this logic kind of negates the writing of my travels while working with the sweet little boy that is my student, since I was not in Saudi Arabia per say.  I was, however, traveling as a result of the reason I'm living in Saudi Arabia,  so there is my Arabian connection and now writing about my time in London and Paris has been justified.

The awesomeness I left back home.

Getting ready for five weeks in Europe was interesting.  I'm not talking about packing for the trip, I'm talking about my state of mind.  I had traveled for 24 hours and skipped over ten time zones only to be back in Riyadh for seven days before flying to London with the family I work for.  On top of that, my supervisor was in Riyadh for our scheduled "individualized education plan" review, updates, and consulting that equated a week of 12 hour days.  I was running on fumes.  This would've been fine, but remember that I had just left my world of mountains and forests and biking and the most fantastic group of fun and caring friends imaginable.  I had experienced the greatest actualization of love that is my home and I was required to leave it.  I was desperately sad and my exhaustion was driving me into a hole of despair.  Suffice it to say, looking back, I do believe I was in a mild state of depression.

I most certainly was not able to look forward to traveling.  I wasn't looking forward to anything, really.  I was also hard on myself for being like this because, ever since I was little, I had dreamed of visiting England.  Jane Austen is one of my favourite authors. Shakespeare delighted me during high school. I have watched almost every British romantic comedy filmed from 1995 and onwards at least twice and maybe half of the British dramas.  I won't even get in to the amount of British television that I've watched.  I actually used to read my study notes in a British accent when preparing for tests and exams because it made me feel smarter.  Now I was finally visiting London, and would have weekends off to enjoy it, and I couldn't have cared less.

What was contained in my lost luggage.

We arrived in London and, while I could definitely appreciate that it was cool to be there, I noticed my tendency to highlight more of the negative things about the city than the positive things.  This was not good.  This was not me.  I am a happy person, yet hopelessness and sadness were starting to feel like the norm for me.  And then a saving grace in the form of a bad situation occurred.  My luggage had been lost.  I had no clothes besides what I was wearing and no toiletries whatsoever.  All I had with me was my computer and, thankfully, my work notes and therapy plans.  My luggage was predicted to make it to me in four days.  Shit, shitty, shit.

This, for me, was a wake up call.  For a long time I have believed that shit-storms in life are not a result of the world coming down on you.  Instead, they are a result of your own negative attitudes and energy coming back to bite you in the ass.  That's what my luggage getting lost was; the universe telling me to start thinking more positively or more crappy situations were going to be paying me a visit.

Let's be honest here.  How horrible was my situation anyway?  Losing my luggage was really not that big of a deal.  I was staying in a luxury hotel just down the road from Trafalgar Square, two blocks away from Westminster Abbey, and a ten minute walk away from Buckingham Palace.  AND I was getting paid to be there.  My life was (and is) flipping amazing and I was whining because I had to spend another six months away from home.  I felt the need to walk outside and ask the hotel's doorman to give me a swift and severely hard kick in the ass.

I didn't think the doorman would have actually gone through with it so, instead, I started to ignore the negative thoughts that floated into my brain.  I began to take pause and remind myself of all the goodness that is part of my life and the world around me.  Most importantly, I started to see the awesomeness that is London.  Then my first weekend off arrived.

I'll tell you all about London in Part Two - These Are My Favourite London'y Things.  Until then...

In Joy,
Bonnie