A day in the life of a desert dreamer part I

I've been getting constant inquires from loved ones and curious souls, caring friends and cynics who just want to see me fall flat on my face so they can say "I told you so"... how and what I've been doing here. What do I eat... wear... do for fun... Can I go out? Can I eat pork? Can I wear pink? The answers are yes, no, and yes only if it's covered in black.

source: http://insidedisillusion.wordpress.com/2009/06/07/to-purdah-or-not-to-purdah/

So for the benefits of those above mentioned and also in the sake of saving time, I will do my best to log a typical day... minus the mundanities and with some added comments and also links that better explains different aspects of local culture than I can provide here.

5am - Waken up by the first adhan or prayer call. I was quite memerized when  I heard my first adhan. (Ok it was a little creepy at first if you have no idea what it is... just a soft wailing from a distance) After realizing that it was the sunrise prayer call, I was quite moved by it and the devotion and discipline it upholds. Here is a link to an episode from the Frankincense Trail, in which you can listen to the beautiful adhans sung in Jeddah.

The Frankincense Trail Episode 2: Saudi Arabia - The Adhans of Jeddah

7am - My daily stroll to work, as I pass by the tennis court and the swimming pool (purely for aesthetics puposes this time of the year), across the compound (occasionally being chased by the compound cats) and through the tunnel the separates the single female housing and the rest of the hospital. To protect our virtue and honours, naturally.

The compound is surrounded by barbwired fence, and patrolled by soldiers with shotguns. Security has been greatly reinforced following 911 and the 2003 Riyadh compound bombings.

730am to 5pm - The King Faisal Specialist Hospital and Research Centre (KFSH&RC) is a 850-bed, tertiary medical and research facility, as well as the national referral centre for oncology, organ transplantation, cardiac surgery, and genetic diseases.

While it is an internationally renowned organization and a leader in promoting advanced health care training and professional standards in KSA, many expatriates have expressed frustration with the disparity in practice standards here and across the various internationally trained staff. I am fortunate to be working in a small and well managed unit where we are shielded from many personnel and management issues that a larger department often encounter.

source: http://www.time.com/time/photogallery/0,29307,1928780,00.html

KFSH&RC is also known as one of the more open workplaces in terms of gender segregation. Asides from living and dining areas, males and females work side-by-side across all levels of the hospital operation. I have found it to be a very friendly and open working environment.

To be continued...

Welcome to the cat compund

Word du jour: KITTA... or cat! We are surrounded by cats here... and they definitely walk around like they own the compound. And they do.

Not in Kansas anymore...

With all the Starbucks and American cars, spending most days in a modernized and advanced healthcare facility surrounded by foreigners and Western-educated nationals, it is easy to forget that one is in a galaxy far far away...

The awakening happened today when I ventured out solo to pick up a few groceries just around the corner, a normal day-to-day activity... right?  First mistake: being a good culturalist and natural comformer, I was excited to try on the face cover that I got the other day for 10 Riyals.  In my mind, this was a good way to deter unwanted gawking, blend in, and also to protect the face from the harsh desert elements.  If you ask me, covering is one of many ancient traditions with modern practicality which I have come to appreciate. What I had not expected was that as soon as I got in the cab, the driver started speaking to me in full Arabic. After a few confusing exchanges, he settled for the conclusion that I was Malaysian muslim. Then he gave a well-intentioned advice, "You will get more attention and get in more trouble when you cover, because men will assume that you are Arabic." While the constant attention received as an uncovered foreign female is annoying, one is relatively tolerated for being ignorant; but an unaccompanied Arabic female will be a greater target of harrassment and discipline. After some contemplation, I uncovered my face like a proper foreigner.

Second mistake I made was being the deaf person to words of wisdom in my usual manner. "Don't wander off on your own", "don't make eye contact or talk to strange men in a supermarket", "don't get stuck outside during prayer time"... Who knew that being a friendly diplomat by helping a guy pick out a box of cookies would lead to me being followed in the store for half an hour? Which was why I quickly paid and left the store, unaware that it was already prayer time and all the other stores will be closed. I eventually found sanctuary in the friendly neighbourhood Starbucks, only to be cornered by a yelling match between (what seemed like) a couple and (presumably) a muttawa. By the time prayer ended, I was ready to go back to my barb-wired fantasy land.

The entry is not meant to be a complaint or another example of my naivity, it's only the hint of a whole series of discoveries to be made in the coming year.

Word du jour: MUMTAZ

The name of both a very nice Indian shop keeper and his store, I was told it means "excellent"... as in this dagger that I really wanted to get for Mr.Dragon.

MUMTAZ: "the distinguished", "the best". A common male name in Muslim communities outside of the Arab world. Also adopted in Turkish, Persian and Urdu.

These Genie lamps were also mucho mumtaz...

DDD 4: A little rug shopping...

A little recap of my first open market shopping trip on Day 4...

While we went through dozens of beautiful hand crafted Baluch carpets... there was a particular one that stood out...

The content exhibited here on the rug does not reflect that of this blog or of the author in anyway... just wondering what are people's thoughts on it? Obviously there are non-Muslim Westerners who found it humourous and have purchased these designs...

Word du jour: WASTA

What better way to learn a new vocab... than actually experiencing it in real life?

WASTA: "who you know"; using one's connections or influence to get things done.

I had actually already read about this common Saudi practice... not exclusive to the region of course as I have also heard similar phenomenon in Asia (and North America as well but for some reason some of us choose to think we are above using WASTA)... that's why when this term was used at work, and by used I mean spoken and practiced, I knew very well what's going down and I didn't mind at all, because the WASTA was to my gain. An appointment crucial for my residency status would've taken months to get. But when you have the powers of W on your side... all of a sudden you are next in line. No law was broken and no bribe was given... not that I know of anyways.

Some may say that it's a symptom of corruption or the antithesis of meritocracy and fairness... I just know that when it's to your benefit, you will want W on your side.

DDD 8: Wadi Laban

See that cliff over there? You'd think I am joking, I thought it was a joke too when I was informed that we were to climb up that thing.

I am wary of posting pictures and talking about the day's events because apparently that could place fellow hikers in compromising positions if we are not careful. So instead I will introduce you to something I found in the desert...

These tiny watermelons are everywhere in the desert. They are black inside... but I was informed that they are extremely sour and possibly poisonous.

Desert Diary Day 7: visiting Panda

First priority when arriving in a new habitat? Establishing communication capability (which took 2 days and numerous visits to the internet/cellphone providers). Finally after I have had my fill of world news, IM, and FB gossips... I am ready to set out for food.  Day 7 brings us to the local market, Hyper Panda, a 5 riyal cab ride away. Clean, bright, and well-stocked with local and many American favourites, HP has everything from camping gear to stone-oven fresh pizza made to order. During prayer time lights are dimmed, but you are free to stay and browse. Aside from the familiar brands back home I also saw some interesting local varieties, such as the biggest dairy section full of all kinds of cheese, milk, yogurt and laben... and here is the princess every Saudi girl wants to be - Fulla, advocating a nutritious Islamic breakfast.

I found everything except brown rice, tofu and soy milk. and all the male staff are friendly and helpful (when they are not gawking or trying to get your number). It was like shopping in an 80's midwest American supermarket, you can find all the basic variety in large quantities, kids point at you for being a weird colour, and the concept of organic, multi-grain and ethnic chic hasn't quite arrived yet... but, all in all it was a pleasant shopping experience and I will just have to go back for the oven fresh cheese pizza.

Desert Diary: Prologue

Traveling brings objective realizations that only happen when you are removed from the old and familiar.

But I have to save those profound thoughts for later. Jetlag and two full days of (dis)orientation only leave room for a brief summary of the last 96 hours...

After three airports, a trans-pacific flight, all-you-can-eat sushi and drinks at Cactus, I had to organize life accumulated over the last 14 years in the form of material attachments, concentrate the essentials into 2 x 23kg plus a 23cm x 40cm x 55cm.

12 hours later, I was back at YVR, too strung out to deal with my fear or bother to wipe the tears... I couldn't afford to miss another flight this year. Reality was slowly settling in,  when what seemed like every single person at the airport, from the check-in counter rep, the currency booth lady, to the security check officer all checked my boarding pass and stared in disbelief and sympathy, "aw... it's not as bad as they say... it's just one year right?". (who exactly are "they" I would like to know) Even the dear old Hungarian grandpa sitting next to me on my flight to Frankfurt, who offered me his pillow and his personal seat cushion (in return I gave him, to his delight, peanuts and chocolate)... almost had a stroke when I informed him of my final destination. "No..... no..... no......" and after about 15 minutes of the same syllable, "but... you are too pretty to go there!". Although I can't verify the truth of any part of that statement, the remark left me wondering for the rest of the flight... apparently in his version of the brave new world, only ugly people are allowed to go to horrible places... and somehow, by choosing to go there, have I placed myself in a category of the "not good looking enough for your own country"?