Gaudy Saudi

A trip down memory lane, and then a bit of analysis with it to go.

Todays been a pretty lazy day. I spent the first four hours laying out in the sun struggling for a tan, and occasionally popping back inside for a water break. I always thought about tanning seriously around summertime but never had the patience - and I pretty much realized I the reason I always cringed at the labor intensive process was because I lived in a desert. Saudi Arabia.

The sun was always blaring so bright it almost burnt through your skin in the 20 minute drive from school to home. I remember flinching almost everytime I reached to open the car - the metallic material absorbed all the heat as it stood out there for a good hour in the parking lot while all the drivers mingled about to kill time. It was school rules that they be there an hour before to avoid too many cars trying to get through at once, which gave them enough time to know the ins and outs of the Ais-r parking they would soon wake up to look forward to. The drivers in isle 4 and 5 were usually Pakistani, and each car over time made its own mark on school territory. They almost had a brotherhood, as they exchanged polite conversation which later developed into swapping stories about what their employer dramatically said to his/her child and where the child went in the first place to get so badly fucked. It was in the parking lot, during the hour the students writhed painfully in their seats waiting for the bell to ring that the drivers provided a shoulder, encouraging words, and even the comforting touch found in a womans hands. As these men intensely discussed the injustice done to their wives as she struggled with her abusive in-laws, they didn't shy away from strolling with their hands clasped tightly so as to fill the empty void this godforsaken country had brought upon them.

In a way, your driver determined your freedom in Saudi Arabia. Without one, you were tied down and unable to move around, but with one, you had to be cautious of where you went and what he saw. If you were one of the lucky ones, your driver would cover for your a*s everytime you pretended to see a girlfriend while in reality you took a detour as soon as you drove away from home to see the guy you had the hots for. I remember how sinfully tempting any exchange with the opposite sex seemed once you actually stepped out of your sheltered home into a country whose malls, streets, cars and dark kohl rimmed eyes peeking through heavy black nylon screamed the conservative code of life embedded so deeply you couldn't escape it. Almost like thickness of dust that sat on unused shampoo bottles once summer vacation called for departing the country for a month or more - the suffocating truth was something we all had to accept and even respect as we resided there. It covered every inch of your body like an infection and at the weakest of times, every child sat there wondering whether it was PSEUDO-morality that was repeatedly echoed in everything we saw and even in our sleep, or perhaps a sign that we were so tainted that our perspective had been forever corrupted. It was as though the youth that grew up and struggled through adolescence there involuntarily gave up their rights because of the fat paycheck their parents received in return which made it all seem worthwhile.
And trust me - for most it did.

Kids whose families would easily be passed as "white trashed" lived a life of luxury because they were blessed with Caucasian skin. When stopped at check points, these people who blended into the background in any Wal-Mart found in North America were nodded at out of respect and all charges or suspicions were dropped. Rules were bent, cheesy one-liners were regurgitated, overly eager smiles were flashed, nervous giggles were presented and even apologetic sentences were said with sparse English words strung together to assure them all their needs would be met with the snap of their fingers. But what about us of color - in particular South Asians?

We were probably on the complete other end of this spectrum. We were frequently met with paranoia, intensive speculation, aggressive remarks questioning the status of your wife and children that accompanied you in the car and quite often, serious warnings were emphasized that if we refused to comply, it would result in weighty consequences. It was my people that filled up the jobs nobody wanted - garbage men that got spat at, nannies that were subjected to groping and sexual remarks, houseboys that were abused for incorrectly cooking/cleaning, and drivers that were commonly seduced by their lonely female employer that forced them into performing sexual duties which if not met would result in the false charge of rape (that equals lashings in prison, deportation, and being ostracised by your family back home for deceiving them while they had such big dreams for their son).

Saudi women - commonly found in the largest and flashiest malls for most of the day - were plagued with loneliness which increased as the wrinkles on their faces deepened. Leading superficial lives where their only source of empowerment was their credit cards, these women deprived of voting and driving searched for some sort of companionship they were denied of. But of course they would be, all potential harm depended on the appearance and of absence of a woman - the misogynistic answer to all sin committed within this rigid society. If every time you wanted to go for groceries, pick your kids up from school, visit a friend or shop REQUIRED you to use a driver, that meant most of your day was spent with this strange man. His marital status, his life story, his everyday struggles, his thoughts, feelings, or even the fact that he sits for endless hours in the scorching Saudi heat waiting on the woman/women he accompanies didn't matter - nothing mattered. To any hungry, desperate woman deprived of any attention from men, who dealt with the absence of her husband who saw her as a baby making machine on a daily basis, who hadn't been affectionately touched, spoken to or appreciated for most of her life would naturally turn to the first male figure that she was confronted with days on end. ESPECIALLY if this man was submissive, required to keep his gaze down as she spat out her orders at him while he obligingly nodded, and just as lonely as she was. Both were lonely - not out of choice but circumstances. The real difference lay in the fact that one had the power to act and force the other to participate while the other had to do so unwillingly.