Maid in Riyadh

The first time I took sonny to the indoor play area, I was hoping to meet a few moms & get sonny introduced to a few kids his age. The sight that met my eyes left me baffled. Sure there were scores of kids running around, but no moms. There were scores of nannies. Nannies of all kinds. One group of South East Asians huddled in this corner, another group of sub-Saharan Africans chatting in the other, a few Indian sub-continent ones sprinkled for good measure. Where are all the moms, I wondered.

A couple of moms I did manage to see, were just dropping off kids to one practice or the other and rushing off to meet their ‘girl friends’ for coffee or at the gym. Super, I thought. This is life.

As a child of a working woman, my experience with nannies or ayahs or bais as we called them wasn’t pleasant. We’d seen our share of good nannies and bad ones, more bad ones than good. Ones that caned us kids, ones who ate up food meant for us, ones who couldn’t care less whether we lived or died. To my prejudiced eye, nannies could do nothing right.

I saw a nanny push relentlessly in the swing, the 11 month old in her care, till he cried nonstop. Or the time I saw a nanny escort a child out of the play area. She stopped to chat with another of her fellows. As I passed them, I saw the child was bleeding from his nose (a common occurrence in this part of the world, I’m told). Hey, I yelled, he’s bleeding. Yeah she replied nonchalantly, I have to take him home and get some ice. I better go. As I watched agape, she hugged and kissed her fellow mate and slowly sauntered off with the child in tow. I was even more pissed when I saw the mother of the child sitting with her younger child, at one of the birthday parties organized there. Obviously, while I was getting all hyped off, the 2 care takers had other important things on their plates.

Was it my imagination or were the kids generally more badly behaved when the nanny was around? Maybe their mothers wouldn’t take their shitty behavior and poor nanny had no option. Then again, wouldn’t a mother want to supervise her child at play? I believe sonny and I have the best of times when we saunter around in the compound picking up stones and dried leaves and pointing out at flowers or birds. If the mommy was working, I could still understand, but hey, most women here don’t work.

Why would you leave your child with the hired help? Especially since there is no effort required on your part, but to stand and supervise your child running around or playing on the swing or the slide. This is what I would call ‘quality time’. Why pay someone else to do it for you? I guess I would never understand their mind-set.

Meanwhile, as I saw these women every day, I began to see the persons behind the uniforms. Like B, our first household help. Charming, forever smiling and full of energy. In her mid 40s she works for atleast 10 hours each day, sometimes 12. She has 3 kids between the ages of 21 and 16 and right now, she’s willing to move heaven and earth to get her eldest son a visa to come and work here. As a driver. She works 4 hours each in 2 houses, then cooks for another lady and sometimes baby sits for another lady. And then goes home and cooks and cleans for her husband. I don’t know, when she has last seen her children, for she hasn’t gone back home for at least 2 years.

Or K, our current help. She already has one full day job, but free lances for me – just to earn the additional few riyals. In her mid 20s she hasn’t seen her 5 year old since a year. She was married for 2 weeks when she got her visa to Kuwait. To work as a household help. She worked for 2 years, went back to Sri Lanka and had a baby. When her son was 2 she got her next visa. So she left her son with husband and mother in law and winged it to KSA. When I asked her, if she would like to be paid monthly or weekly, she laughingly replied, “o monthly mam. If you pay me daily, I’ll just go and buy phone cards to call my son in Sri Lanka”. Her answer just tore my heart.

Its no wonder that she just showers so much love on sonny, hugging him and kissing him, whenever she can. Hard hearted boy that he is, he just brushes her off. I often wonder if she sees he son – when she sees sonny.

And these aren’t stray cases. Every maid, nanny here has a similar story. Of children left behind, in families’ care while they strive to earn a few bucks. To get their kids a better life. Of husbands and wives being apart for years on end. Working, chasing a dream.

And if you thought, these women have a tough life, consider this. One of the drivers here, was returning home, late at night, when he got a flat tire. So he put on his flashers and stopped to change the tire. A trailer coming that way, didn’t see him and ran him over. He didn’t even make it to the hospital. He hadn’t been home in 4 years. This summer, which is vacation time here, he’d gotten permission to go home. There were 2 weeks to his vacation. His ticket was ready, he’d bought gifts for his 4 young ones and was getting set to head home. Destiny willed otherwise.

And then I thank God for his blessings. For making sure my family is together. For making sure we don’t undergo such hardships. Minor irritants, like abaya, female segregation, etc somehow doesn’t seem all that bad after all.

Riyadh rules

Like with every place, KSA or Riyadh to be specific has its own list of dos and donts, accepted practices and what have you.

Here are some that I thought were interesting:

1. You already know about the abaya rule – each woman has to wear an all-encompassing black gown and a head scarf. What I did find was that most expats, wear the gown and just leave the scarf on the shoulder. So should someone object (no one has to date) you can always wrap it around your head – else at least your head is free.
2. Salat or prayer times are very strictly enforced – esp for the men-folk. So 5 times a day (4 actually – since the first morning prayer is at 3.45am or so) all shops down their shutters for about 20 mins giving the faithful time to say their prayers. Women are spared of this rule. All malls, shops, shopping complexes, restaurants, every lil bit of commercial enterprise will shut itself down. Can you imagine, if you were in a mall and the shop shut itself down, you just have to wait outside the shop – on the benches thoughtfully provided for you. Or you reach a restaurant – and find out – you have to wait outside coz its shut for salat. After a while you do get used to it – and check timings before you leave home – just so you aren’t stranded outside.
   
3. There is a ministry here called ‘Ministry for the Promotion of Virtue and Prevention of Vice’ or ‘Muttawwa’ – no really, this is true. The sole objective of this ministry is to ensure that women remain honorable (meaning abaya rule is enforced) and men-folk remain on the right path (meaning prayer time rules are enforced). So if the muttawwa should find a Muslim man loitering on the streets during the prayer times – he is hauled away and made to pray. Of course – non Muslims are spared. I have actually met people who have been picked off the street and taken to say their prayers.
   
4. Executions do happen in this part of the world – and open air executions at that. However, did you know that China has more executions per year than the KSA? Even the USA has more executions per year than the KSA. Bet you didn’t expect that too.
   
5. Most restaurants and/or take-out joints have 2 sections – the bachelor section and the family section. Even Starbucks has 2 separate queues to place orders. Ikea, Mc Donalds, KFC you name it – and they follow the 2 separate sections rule. And mind you these sections are strictly enforced.
   
6. I’m not too sure about the ‘male to accompany every woman’ rule. I myself have been out by myself – sans hubby – at malls and so have many many other women. In fact, the compound where we stay has a shuttle bus, twice daily that takes women to the various malls and picks them back at the pre-appointed time. And all women on the bus – are by themselves – no males.
   
7. The Ramadhan month rule – no matter what your faith – you cant eat or drink outside your house – during the fasting hours – which usually are from 4.30am to about 7pm. I don’t know what the repercussions are – should you be found eating or drinking – but I can imagine they will be rather strict. O the good thing is – offices work for just 6 hours – from 9am to 3pm all through Ramadhan , and shopping complexes are open all night.
   
8. Human labor is cheap and very freely available. Maids, drivers, cleaners, cooks, maintenance staff, gardeners, you name it….are all there to spoil and pamper you rotten.
   
9. Gas is cheap – 0.45 SR a liter. 1USD = 3.75 SR. So effectively its approx 46 cents a gallon……. Yes go ahead and shriek…..Is it any wonder that most people drive SUVs here? And most families have more than 2 cars.
   
10. Did you know that according to the Islamic rule – the groom has to make all the arrangements for the wedding? The bride’s family is only responsible for bringing the Qazi – who will perform the rites – max 15 mins duration. And the bride’s father/brother/responsible male relative will demand a ‘meher’ on behalf of the girl – almost as an alimony for the marriage. This is dowry is reverse – and yet there are often complaints as to how the bride’s male relatives have gobbled up the alimony that is rightfully due to the bride. I wonder – when and how – female abuse will end.
    
11. I am amazed at the number of lingerie shops I see in the malls – almost every 5th or 6th shop is a lingerie shop. I wonder with so much ‘cover up’ happening – who’s buying all those fur trimmed teddys and leopard print thongs and lace negligees. Don’t point towards the expats – we’re way too few to sustain such a thriving industry. Not to mention all those off shoulder evening gowns, and plunging necklines that I routinely see in the shop windows. I have seen more Vera Wang gowns here than in my entire stay in the US.
    
12. Siesta – these guys seriously believe in it. Most shops – with shut for the mid-day salat (At approx 11.30am) and will re-open only after the evening salat (at about 4pm). After Goa, Calcutta and a lot of small towns in India – this is probably the only place outside of India where I have seen this happen.
    
13. As an Indian – be prepared to be discriminated against. Since most of the blue collar workers are Indian or from the sub continent you are automatically assumed to be one. And as we say in India, ‘yahan paisa bolta hai’ (money talks). How to get around the discrimination? Spout an American or Brit accent or wear smart clothes or better still flash a non Indian passport or do something absolutely expat-ish.
    
14. The speed limits here are 120km/hr (approx 75miles/hr) – way higher than permitted in the US. Cars are fitted with special beepers should you cross 120. And no body cares about the beeps. You routinely see cars literally whiz across. And you routinely see accidents. Especially since there are no rules about round-abouts or right of ways. If there is an accident involving 2 cars – how do you decide who is at fault. There is a pecking order for that too. Between a westerner and a local arab – the westerner is at fault, between an Asian and westerner the asian is at fault. Mind you, the local is never at fault.

To cut a long story short. - 1

In the past few months – every time something of interest happened – I’d think to myself this is one story I have to share. But as time went by – I think I have forgotten a great many of them. Here's one that I do remember.

Veil Wail.

The morning after we landed – we wanted to go to the lobby for breakfast. Hubby and I got into an argument – if the abaya ‘had’ to be worn in the hotel. Hubby insisted that the hotel was one from an international chain and it would be preposterous for them to ask their customers to wear an abaya. A quick call to the reception confirmed my fears – international or not – an abaya was a must. So down we went – me tripping in my gown – and sonny trying to tug at the scarf that I managed to wrap around my head.

Turns out families must be seated in a ‘family section’ only. We went in to see a couple of other families eating. One table caught my attention. 2 women sat and ate by themselves. Not wanting to stare I threw surreptitious glances in their direction. The woman’s head was of course covered by a black head scarf. Not just that she had an additional piece of cloth that extended from one ear to another, over her nose. Effectively you cud just see her eyes. And seeing hubby – she managed to produce another cloth that she dropped over her head – so now – look ma – no eyes to be seen as well. How is she going to eat, I thought. She demonstrated. She pierced a piece of fruit in her fork, brought the fork down, took it under the cloth covering her face, which she lifted ever so slightly and managed to put it in her mouth. Every single bite went through this elaborate procedure. Man, I thought, I would give up eating, if I had to do this.

I looked at her hands - whatever little were visible. Well taken care of, manicured, with a bright red nail polish to boot. Pretty rings adorned her fingers and she ate with great care.

And I wondered - what kind of a woman would would take so much care of herself - and then cover it all up? The feminist in me was befuddled - of course you dress for yourself - and not for outsider appreciation - so then is she the ultimate feminist? But what kind of feminist would put herself through this rigmarole at every meal? Is int feminism about liberation?

I dont know - but the more I see of these women, the more I wonder.

I'm back!

I know its been a really really long time.

But consider this. We left our home in the US, intending to go for a short vacation to India. The vacation extended from 5 weeks to 8 weeks. Then instead of returning home, we had to go on straight to Saudi Arabia. Our time in Riyadh was spent first in a cramped hotel room for 2 weeks and then in a spacious villa for 3 weeks. Barely had we adjusted to life in Riyadh, we had to pack our bags again and head back to India for 3 days.

From India began another series of travel. We flew to New York, then to Boston. Then drove down to hometown Montreal. In each city we stayed for 5days to a week. After winding up all our bases in North America, we finally flew back to India, to get our visas re-issued(do not ask me why. The visa systems here are the strangest I’ve heard of).
In India we shuttled between Delhi and Lucknow and finally flew back to Riyadh last week.

And here I am! Back to blog-sphere. I know I have a lot of reading and catching up to do – and I’m all set! And I have loads of stories to tell you. For all those who checked up on me (I hope there were some) – thanks! I promise not to vanish like that again.
And all those who’ve read this……please do come back and check for more :)

Marhaba!

Marhaba!!

Greetings from the land of the Arabs!

I am writing this post from the immensely sunny Riyadh, Saudi Arabia.

What am I doing here? That’s one question I keep asking myself as well. But to cut a long story short, hubby has taken up a position in his company which requires us to settle in Riyadh. Promotion, good job content, better standard of living and most of all proximity to home were the factors we considered before moving here.

Currently we are on a 2-3 week acclimatization visit here – and the way things are moving we don’t expect to fully move anytime before June. So in the meanwhile, sonny and I will shuttle between US, Canada, Mumbai and Riyadh. Some jet-setters we’ve become :)

We’ve read so much about the life here, the cultures and the changes that we will have to make from our current lifestyle. And yet reality is much different than what we’ve heard.

For starters, every second person is from the Indian sub-continent (Indians, Pakistanis, Bangladeshis, Sri-lankans). We never fail to wish the Bangladeshis good luck for the team’s World Cup endeavors (and how my heart bleeds every time I say it) and how nonchalantly they shrug it off. Are we only crazed cricket fanatics here?

Mostly people are sympathetic to me. Husband job? Yes I mutter. You bored? Pretty much I mumble. Awww… this is life here. From the housekeeper to the waiters – everyone has the same line for me.

And the ubiquitous black and white look. Black abayas for the women and white flowing gown like overalls for the men. Its like living in a black and white movie. Color comes in the form of the western men – who pretty much wear their shirts and trousers (Women of all regions, religions, countries, of course, have to wear the abaya).

While adjusting to any new place takes its time – there are some things I didn’t account for. Like being clumsy – 3 days and I’m still not used to walking, sitting and eating in an abaya. Like not being able to dawdle around while sonny checks out the ants and leaves in the sidewalk. Or that people either look through you or look down. Or that nobody smiles and greets unknown women – unless they already know you. That there are 3 categories of people: Caucasians, Arabs and the rest.

While I haven’t seen much of the city, the color that strikes you right away is sandy brown. Even the pretty white houses with their pretty red tiled roofs seem to be brown. Much later I figured, that the absence of a lawn, flowers, greenery just takes all color out of the landscape. Especially since I know, that its spring in the US and the crocuses and tulips would be blooming and people would be coming out in droves to enjoy the warmth.

Besides summer hasn’t yet begun. And the sandstorms here are legendary. Temperatures are known to touch 50 C.

But there are some things I look forward to. Like being able to employ house-hold help (not possible in the US). Like being driven around all the time (women cant drive here), without hubby muttering about how an MBA hasn’t yet managed to learn driving in the US. Like shopping being the official past-time for all women here (what else can they do –if they aren’t allowed to work?). Like being a SAHM, and nobody questioning my decision. Like having everything (yes everything, including Mc Donalds) home-delivered. Like having a women’s only mall (no hubby means I can try on innumerable clothes, make frequent detours, constantly change my mind about the colors without someone gritting his teeth exasperatedly).

Or am I just deluding myself here. I guess time will tell.