Mike's Saudi (22) Trip to Najran and back

A modern mountain road in Saudi Arabia, can you imagine how it was in 1979 though the mountains were the same? Photograph by Nick Shields from Wikimedia common images.

At 6000feet the climate in Khamis was very pleasant in the summer it was agreeably warm and in the winter although it rained and on one occasion snowed it didn’t last long and there was the assurance that the weather would be fine all the next summer. Syb, Karen and I were invited by a Dutch couple to spend a weekend with them in Najran. It was a town near the Yemen boarder on the edge of the Rub’ al Khali a dessert the size of France generally known as the Empty Quarter at sea level and very hot.

We left on a Wednesday after work in a beaten up old Datsun on a road little more than a tarmac covered drovers trail, gradually dropping through the mountains to nearer sea level. I had been before and knew their house so when we arrived at our destination I drove along their road to the start of the desert marked by a sign across it and where I believed their house was. Strangely I couldn’t find their house though we looked around for ages but with no success, the only option was to return home. Later on I found that we had been with in yards of their place it was in fact just on the edge of the desert. By this time it was getting dark and of course there were no road markings, as we climbed steadily up wards from Najran through the mountains it started to rain. The rain turned into a thunder storm in other circumstances it would have been most impressive, like being in the movie of a Dracula film. To add to our dilemma the rain was washing rocks the size of tennis balls across the road we were fortunate not to be hit. When we got home our relief was tempered by the fact that we had left the gas oven on.

Mike's Saudi (21) Booze and the Mutawa

A beautiful winter morning in modern Tabuk by Atozxyz.

There were no details just the rumour that we would move to Tabuk and I felt pretty upset about it. But I could do nothing to influence the decision just hope that it wouldn’t happen. Soon an American appeared on base though he lived off it with his wife and two children. There was much speculation about him and why he was there, we were to find out soon enough. One day he approached me, would my daughter act as governess for his two kids as his wife was returning to the US. Karen was interviewed and the job was hers. It meant that from now on Karen would be living in with the American family in a villa nearer to Khamis. It was then we found his purpose in the area he was evaluating the air force base and buildings prior to the changeover. This made our move certain now the biggest worry was would there be enough accommodation for us at Tabuk, if not Syb and Karen would have to return to the UK until some became available.

We will return to Joe, his governess and two children later as I would now like to tell you about the odd way in which we came by our villa at Tabuk. The Mutawa were always on the lookout for wayward expatriates and used to make sudden raids on our compounds if they suspected anything. Usually we had a mole in their camp who would warn us of an impending raid so that everything would be tidy when they arrived. At Tabuk where there had been maintenance group supposedly readying the base for our arrival, they had been there for years and in their boredom had started to make booze on an industrial scale. They made so much that they couldn’t consume it all so they supplied the nurses at the local hospital other contractors with western work forces and as the operation got larger and larger it got out of hand. They started to supply Saudis. Now the authorities may look the other way at making wine for your own consumption as was the case with the club at Khamis but to supply others outside of your own group was simply not tolerated. There was no warning when they visited Tabuk, no time to hide the still or to dispose of the wine. All the culprits were sent home, most of them were married and in base accommodation. This all happened just weeks before we were to move, so we walked straight into a villa, with a servant’s quarter that smelt just like a brewery, which it had been a few weeks earlier. For weeks afterwards we used to get little notes throw over the purdah walls ‘Leave ten bottles in the usual place’ naturally we took no notice. But we never made booze for our own or anybody else’s consumption.

 

Mike's Saudi (20) Odd relationships

This charming photograph of the Sarawat Mountains near Kkamis Mushayt is by Wajahatmr.

 

 

 

A good friend of mine Dave introduced Karen to the flight line personnel where she became an honorary member in a social context and as I mentioned earlier well guarded by them. It was odd that when they threw a party one of them would bring her home, have a coffee with us, and then Karen would creep back to the party and repeat the process with another of them. Most times it would be repeated at least twice and I’m pretty sure nothing untoward happened during these trips home. It occurred even when she did form a deeper attachment to an English teacher called Fred but Fred was always the last to bring her home. It did however fail when a junior manager joined the party and told Karen he would take her home, she felt threatened by him and refused. The next morning there was a complaint about her behaviour. I was called before the Base Manager and told that if she was to remain with us she would have to be accompanied at all times, there were some other restrictions which I can’t recall now but I was pretty mad at the time. On thinking about it I am fairly sure the junior manager had lied out of spite, he was not generally liked, which had put the Base Manager in a bind. A young girl of the wrong sort could cause a lot of grief for the organization. However he didn’t know Karen and had not researched the allegation but I’m afraid he was typical of much of the BAC management. Shortly after both managers were moved to Riyadh, fortunate, but nothing to do with Karen or me. The new Base Manager I got to know well, his wife played tennis with Syb and joined the camera club I ran. He had more of the management style I was use to and I respected him and his wife.

It was difficult for a blond European young girl in Saudi Arabia during that period. At one time an Arab not known to us or our Saudi friends approached Karen as she walked back to our villa and offered her money. He didn’t speak any English but she got the picture. He was most insistent and the money was offering her kept growing until she was tired of using polite refusals and lost her temper. She turned on him and at the top of her voice yelled “Why don’t you f**k off?” He fled never to be seen again. Not many of my Arab friends met her Mohammed and the tea party were an exception. She was often seen in the town and aware of how to mix with the locals no doubt some of them were the trainee who knew me from the base.

It was after about six months my family had settled in and was enjoying all that Khamis offered, that a rumour went round the company that an American firm were to take over Khamis base along with their aircraft and a Saudi workforce. If true it meant that we would be moving to Tabuk this had been on the cards for so long that no one believed it any more.

 

 

Mike's Saudi (19) Wives,Weevils, Scorpions And Cockroaches

  Through the shutters of the window in our lounge we could see a small farm opposite where the farmer lived with his two wives. Each wife had her own rooms at either end of his farmhouse I think they took turns to spend time with him. One day the two of them had an argument which rapidly developed into a wrestling match, it amused us greatly when the farmer appeared with a plank to separate them and send them to their relevant quarters. In those early family days my socializing with Ali Badi outside work reduced, if I took Syb and Karen along to his house they were expected to sit in the kitchen with his wife who spoke no English and was deeply suspicious of them. Western women were feared by most of the rural Saudi women as competition for their husbands. When Syb and Karen stood on the balcony overlooking the farm the two wives threw stones towards them to show their displeasure. Fortunately my two understood and came inside.

In the evening sun we used to sit on the balcony and watch the large cockroaches chase each other about. Some times when sitting on the toilet in the bathroom they would appear from the drain grid in the middle of the floor. One time shortly after Syb had arrived she decided to have a bath afterwards she said “Look at this insect I had to shush it on to the side while I had my bath” it was a scorpion. Scorpions were plentiful in the base and some of the BAC boys had little businesses setting them in clear plastic blocks, needless to say I have one in my Saudi display. Breakfast could be exciting not only did the Rice Crispies snap crackle and pop they jumped but you got used to taking the weevils along with the cereal.  We had a lot to learn about living in the town and I’m glad to say both Syb and Karen caught my enthusiasm for the place despite the insects.

They were about the only white women actually living in Khamis at that time, as they found out the first time they walked to the shops. Blonds had rarely been seen by the locals and they were fascinated by my two, who were a little disconcerted when a Bedouin made it obvious by looking straight at them walking backwards in front of them.  He looked pretty fearsome but they soon they realized that no one meant them any harm and they became more confident. Also as Khamis base was close by there were plenty of English speaking Saudi trainees and many of them knew me and were only too happy to help. Whenever the girls went shopping in town there always seemed to be one of the trainees in civvies (a thobe and gutra) there to advise them which produce to buy and how much to pay.

 

 

Mike's Saudi (18) Habala the hanging village

This is pretty much as I remember the hanging village Habala, now it is served by a cable railway from somewhere near where this picture has been taken. I believe it is becoming a bit of a tourist attraction.

 A few miles from the base the Mountains started huge valleys literally thousands of feet deep following one after the other like a great field ploughed by giants. I visited them with a couple of English friends, all along they were pretty much the same a shear drop of well over a 1000feet followed by a 45 degree slope of maybe another couple of 1000feet. At one point where the vertical cliff met the slope there was a little village, Habala, with a few terraced fields and a group of small houses.

The population of this place use to climb up to the top along a diagonal narrow ledge intermittently using tree trunks driven into the rock face where the ledge had petered out. At the top they parked their Toyota trucks for the drive into town. I believe the village originated in the time when the Turks invaded the area and these people took refuge in this virtually impenetrable place. It fascinated me; fortunately a little way from the village was a promontory where I went to photograph it.  As I tried to gain a suitable view point I moved slowly forward checking through the camera view finder as I went. For some reason I took the camera from my eye and found I was standing with my toes a few inches from and looking down a drop of thousands of feet. I moved slowly away from the cliff and sat down in a cold sweat. Every time I closed my eyes for days afterwards all I could see was the drop I had so narrowly escaped. How the population of the village could run up and down their path with their possessions balanced on their heads I just do not know.

A BAC friend of mine, a mountaineer decide he would like to climb from the village straight up the cliff face taking two days over it. The villagers thought he was mad and warned him not to go but John had climbed all over the world and knew exactly what he was taking on. He started his climb on the Thursday morning and by evening had reached just over halfway up where he camped on the cliff face in a hanging tent. On the Friday he completed his climb to find all the villagers at the top with the traditional cooked sheep and a pile of rice to celebrate his arrival. He visited the village several times more and was hailed as a hero each time. Later when John returned to the UK he joined a mountain rescue team in Wales and started an outward bound school.

 

 

Mike's Saudi (17) Our first house in Khamis Mushayt

Sadly this is the only picture of Old Khamis I could find, it seems that all I knew and loved has gone, even this is a poor modern interpretation of country house not a town house.

 

I had to wait over three long years for Syb and Karen to join me in Saudi but at least it had given Karen the time to finish her schooling and she was fast maturing into a young woman. There were no villas left on the camp estate so after my persistent lobbying, BAC had found us a place in town. It was a top flat with English neighbours below who in fact we very rarely met. The place was of typical local construction concrete blocks had been laid on top of the contours of the land, going up and down as did the surface below them. These were built to three stories high gradually levelling off through each course until at the top it was more or less level. The whole was then rendered to hide the construction. On first seeing it and knowing it was pivotal in getting the family to join me, I was delighted. A board stair case at the end of the building climbed to the first floor which through double doors led onto a large tiled hall lit by a tiny chandelier. Off this main thoroughfare led two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a lounge and a secluded walled ladies veranda with a fountain. The fountain drained straight into the flat below which we were to find out the first time we tried it. The bedrooms and lounge were joined on the outside of the building by a long balcony.  Back through the double doors and up the stairs led to the kitchen, dining room and a flat roof.

This was our home for about six months after which time we moved into a modern villa built to European standards on base. At the time of this move the flat walls were moving, in one bathroom the blocks had broken through the plaster, I was relieved to go. But our time there had been an experience; in many ways the owner of the flats lived in a small house next door with an adjoining door to our garden through the purdah wall. Most Saudi houses were surrounded by a wall at least six feet high to prevent the passerby from seeing the female members of the family. Our landlord used to use the flat’s garden for growing vegetables it had been agreed as part of the rent that when a tanker came to fill our water tank it also watered his vegetable patch. Tending his crops meant that he spent a lot of time round the outside of our building, he was an old man and Syb used to spend hours in the garden sat on a low stone wall communicating with him in their personal sign language.

He had a daughter who taught at the local girls’ school and would wave and shout “Hello” as she passed.  We never accepted his invitations to visit him in his home. BAC had warned us about that sort of thing, I was away at my job leaving the girls alone in the flat. Many are the times since we have cursed our reluctance to go, our later experience showing how foolish we had been to ignore this wonderful opportunity.

Mike's Saudi (16) How we taught the Saudis in the 1970s

The photograph taken by Mztourist of an RSAF Lightning aircraft at the RSAF Museum Riyadh

At work I was getting to know my trainers and trainees, if you can imagine a situation where the trainees had had little experience of science or engineering and the trainers were widely experienced men who found it difficult to connect with the these simple country lads. The Saudis had also been taught American English at an introductory course which only added to the trainers difficulties. You may get some idea of my job, to get these two factions to meet and it had to be done in the work situation. There was always the difficulty of maintaining the aircraft and training the Saudi boys. For us Brits there was the added challenge of training to an American system which at the time few Brits at any level understood.  It was only much later when I was working alongside the Americans that I really appreciated it and how appropriate it was to the Saudi situation at the time; remember this was in the 1970s.  To add to all these problems the Saudis had spent 60% of their schooling on religious studies which didn’t leave a lot of time for everything else. Another item seen by some as a problem was that the training program on the ground was overseen by the Pakistan Air Force. This really annoyed some of the section chiefs but I got on fine with my Pakistani I had only one and in the end he just trusted me to get on with it. It was very interesting time to be there, remember Saudi Arabia had only been united as a country about 40 years and was still emerging from a mainly desert community.

Perhaps it might help if I describe briefly the American training system known as ‘On the Job Training’ usually referred to as OJT. This meant that the trainee would accompany the technician in his daily work, studying what he did and gradually taking the job over, first under the guidance of the trainer/technician and later by himself at which point the trainee would be qualified in that single task. Once qualified the trainee would move on to a different job until he was qualified in all aspects of his work at which time he would receive a small technical promotion. This system was ideally suited to training a workforce intelligent but ignorant of any mechanical or electronic working. Theory was provided in formal lessons by people such as myself and in discussions with the trainer. This was a wonderful system to get a generation of young Saudis understanding the modern world quickly. The disadvantage was that they only learned what was immediately relevant to the job in hand.

The British way was to do an initial training course followed by experience in the field followed by a more advanced course, a system which was more in depth but took longer and required the trainee to have at least some idea of basic mechanics. If I may put it this way it required someone brought up Meccano not on herding sheep this is not an insult it was a fact in the 1970s. Here you can see the problem for the BAC trainers most of which had an RAF background and there was a tendency to teach beyond what was required for the job in hand. This frustrated both the trainer and trainee. However as I said earlier it was much later that I fully understood the advantages of the system particularly for the Saudi trainees and a country with a need to catch up on the modern world.

 

Mike's Saudi (15) Early days

After I arrived in Saudi I spent a few days in Riyadh before being sent to Khamis Mushayt but it was not certain that I would stay there in those early days and after a little time Ali Badi the most senior man of the Saudi photographic personnel and respected in the civilian world asked me “Mr. Mike would you like to stay here?” I was already starting to love the place and naturally agreed “I will write to my Head Quarters and ask them to have you stay”. It was the start of a long friendship based on mutual respect, although he was a Bedouin he was a natural gentleman and a great friend to me.

My future was decided from that point on. BAC paid their personnel at Khamis hardship money, it was at the time the back of beyond and my room was half a converted shipping container, not much in the way of luxury. The swimming pool had leaked so it had been turned it into an open air cinema; I remember once watching a film of Janice Joplin’s life after the first reel I was the only one left in the audience and the projectionist was begging me to leave. There was a sex film at the time Emanuel and for that the cinema was crowded only for half of them to walk out early on but when Jungle Book was playing they were standing in any available space, funny people expatriates.

I do believe that expatriates are a breed apart, an American I worked with much later on said “Don’t judge the people back home by the guys you meet out here”. In part I think he was right, it took a special type of man to live in those conditions in an all male camp for years and only get home for 15 days three times a year. There were homosexuals in the mix but by and large I found them just fine and at times exceedingly funny when they played up to it. There was one we called Sweet William who later on became friends with my daughter Karen, his favourite saying to her was ”You’re safe with me dear” and they got along well.

Of course for the heterosexuals there was a hospital full of nurses just down the road, they were expatriates too and most if not all were well able to look after themselves. In our compound we had a club with a bar serving homemade wine (grape juice, sugar and yeast, if you’re really thirsty kill it after a couple of weeks!) and Sadeeqy a form of spirit brewed in an illicit still hidden between two innocent looking walls. Saudi being a dry country but aware of the needs of foreigners came to the understanding that as long as we behaved ourselves they would ignore our social habits. We did find once one of the Saudi guards would nip in after the club was closed and finished off swill in the bottom of the glasses left on the tables, I never heard what happened to him. There was the time when we were warned about a raid by the Mutawa (religious police feared by ordinary Saudis and expatriates alike) quickly the stocks of booze were poured away. The booze then collected in the storm ditches where some vagrant donkeys took to alcohol like expats and were seen staggering about the area for a couple of days.

(There will be no blog next week as I am away but it will return on the 7th November)

Mike's Saudi (14) More RSAF Photography 1976

This evocative picture is by Marc Asmode and is nothing to do with blogg but I thought it made a nice illustration and it is in Saudi Arabia. This is a little story about how Mohammed (see Mike’s Saudi 2) lied to save my job.

At one time we had a sports festival at Khamis base, what an ideal chance to give the boys some real photography to improve their skills. Mohammed another of the boys was keen to show me he could do as well as Ali, I doubted it though he worked hard he was a much simpler man. But I encouraged him and he came along with the section’s Rolleiflex. Our chosen sport for the morning was a football match and I sent him to the far end goal line with the instruction to wait and photograph the action when it occurred at that goal mouth. Off he went and stood by the far goal but the action was all happening at my end, so after a little while he left his post and wandered up to my end just as there was a break away and a beautiful goal scored at what should have been his end. I was so mad at him for missing what could have been a wonderful shot, that I grabbed his hat and hit him with it. I’d completely forgotten where I was and soon there was a civilian talking to him in Arabic of course. This is my ticket home I thought as the two of them parted. But Mohammed came back to me “That was Prince (I regret I’ve forgotten his name) he wanted to know how I felt about you attacking me. I told him it was a game we play” The Prince seemed satisfied with Mohammed’s explanation and I stayed to continue my work.

Later on in the match Mohammed took a superb shot of the ball stretching the back of the net and the luckless goal keeper diving forward at exactly the same angle as the net making a perfect triangle any professional sports photographer would have been proud of it. I was so pleased with the work the boys were turning out that I went to see the Security Officer and the Base Training Officer and asked them if we could print off some 20x16s and hang them on the training office walls. They flatly refused apparently it was a cultural thing and I couldn’t shift them from their position. I should have taken Ali with me but I doubt if would have done any good as when I told him about it he accepted it without disappointment “It is our way” is all he said. 

There was a panic one day when an aircraft ran out of runway and a photograph was require urgently so one of the trainers grabbed a camera and took the necessary picture. This was a very rare opportunity and Ali was most upset that no trainee had been taken, he was right and he complained to his authorities. A little later on the trainer was sacked. I mention it as it shows that on an expatriate contract how easy it was to fall foul with these little unintentional slips. Perhaps it highlights what Mohammed had done for me.

 

Mike's Saudi (13) RSAF photography 1976

 

“I used to teach a group of Royal Saudi Air Force personnel photography in the good old days before the digital camera had arrived. I was very lucky in that my boys seemed to take an interest in the subject unlike many other trades."

 One of the problems for the photographers was that their job on the flight line was simple and repetitive. Just a case of changing the film magazines in the aircraft after every trip and processing the film, essential but not very challenging (this was well before digital photography). To my way of thinking my boys might be required at any moment to take still photographs of a defective part for identification, a crashed aircraft or a visiting dignitary so I set up a training program to teach them ground photography. I was perhaps better qualified to teach this as I had taught similar subjects while I was in the RAF.

By this time Ali Badi and I had become good friends and I respected his advice so I put this idea to him and he advised me that we should put it to the Security Officer boss of the Photo Section for his approval. So along we went to see him, I wanted the boys to photograph the station fire engine for a starter exercise “Ah no” said the officer “You see Mr. Mike everything on the base is secret and must not be photographed but there is a fire engine down town which is exactly the same as ours why don’t you use that one”. He honestly wanted to help us so the three of us sat down over a cup of coffee and eventually came up with a compromise, we could photograph items on the base as long as we gave him all the prints and negatives to destroy. Ali and I were delighted we could now start a photographic course and use the fine array of cameras that so far had laid in a cupboard unused; nobody had ever asked before.

This later paid off when the King visited Khamis and Ali took the Rolleiflex out to record his visit. He did a good job and proved that he was much more than a flight line magazine changer. The prints were much admired and I got a little of the kudos for training him so did the Security Officer who was also our boss and Ali had proved to himself that he was a photographer. It also stirred the other boys into action for a while. So in a way we won all round and Ali was keen as mustard.

Mike's Saudi (12) Flying home

One of our British friends in Saudi had married a girl from the Caribbean she was white skined and a friend of Syb’s they used to play tennis together and that sort of thing in fact they were our neighbours at Tabuk. They adopted two coloured children a girl and a boy who acted as ballboys when their mother played tennis much to their dislike.

One time when our neighbours were going home on leave they flew from Tabuk to Jiddah as the first leg of the flight home, then changed to the international flight where their visas were checked. John was first through the visa control and has his visa stamped but when his wife and the children tried to follow him they were stopped the athorities accusing her of stealing Saudi children. Not unnaturally John returned through the control to support her. There followed  a big discussion in which BAC and the Embassy were involved eventually it was sorted out to the satisfaction of the Saudi authorities but by this time John and his family had missed their plane and had to wait to the following day.

This time the wife and children passed through the control first John ensuring that there was no problem followed. “Ah” said the official “You went yesterday” of course his visa had been stamped on the previous day. This time it was sorted out and they caught that days flight to the UK.

Funny things happen at the airports once on our return from the UK Syb was stopped as her luggage contained some small bottles with colours and flavourings in for cooking. She was about to be taken to an airport jail when fortunately a senior Saudi customs man realized they were not minitures of alcohol and we passed through. At the time the shop floor officials only had limited experiance and often required referance to a higher official. I guess now with the increased security at airports throughout the world things will have changed drastically. But in the 1970s it was often a quite an exciting challenge flying  home.

In fact in the very early days of my life over there you could wait at Jiddah airport while your aircraft was commendeered by a Prince to fly his family to somewhere within the country a privilage withdrawn by King Fisal, and we all thanked him for that  as there were over a thousand Princes in the country at the time. How there came to be that number was part of the stratergy adopted by King Saud in creating Saudi Arabia but thats another story.

Mike's Saudi (11) Khamis cafe and an American hooker

In Khamis Mushayt at the time I was there, there was café I used to frequent from time to time. For those who are used to Starbucks this café represented the exact opposite. It had low lighting that fed in through open gaps in the walls, an earth floor, crude wooden tables, an Asian toilet that no white man would visit more than once and a most wonderful atmosphere. Apart from the toilet I loved the place; it was like stepping back in time they must have had cafes like this for hundreds if not thousands of years,  here you could meet the real locals, drink coffee and smoke a hubbly bubbly both of which were on the menu. Very few expatriates visited the place therefore the local were intrigued by those who did and would try their disjointed English on you and you would answer in even worse Arabic. You would all have a great laugh while trying to understand what we were saying to each other. One great gift of the local Arab was their ability to laugh which quite naturally totally removed any strain from the encounter. After some time you would shake their hand as you left having had a great time and not understanding a word of what had been said. But when you returned they would welcome you back for another couple of hours of joyous mystifying conversation.   Later I took Karen in there, she was much more adventurous than her mother, it was quite a surprise for the all male clientele but she got along famously with them all, the old boys accepted her as one of their own, amazing.

Just mentioning the hubbly bubbly there reminds me of much later on when Syb and I were in Dahran we had a rather ornate one in the corner of our lounge which was more for ornament than smoking as it had several small holes in it. By this time I was working for the Saudis but closely with the Americans and we used to socialize, it was to Syb’s amusement that at one time she asked the male partner of a duo visiting us “Have you ever tried a hooker?” Hubbly Bubblys also being called Hookas. It was a mistake the first time round but the strained embarrassment on the husbands face was a delight to see, then as Syb indicated the pipe in the corner of the room the relief was just as much fun. Having learned from this first experience it was something she was to repeat on every new American couple that visited us. To their credit our guests usually had a good laugh and we were all able to enjoy the joke.

Our new Newfoundland friend

A review of my book ‘Life with my Newfoundlands’ in Newf Scene (The newsletter of the Newfoundland Club) whilst being very fair bemoaned the fact that we no longer had a Newf of our own and suggested that we could perhaps find one to cuddle occasionally. As fate would have it a couple of days later we found a Newf close by owned by some very pleasant people who we met in unusual circumstances.

A parcel was delivered to our door while we were out, it was just left leaning against the wall by the front door which we never use and cannot be viewed from our usual exit point. However a neighbour phoned us up and told us about it, true it was a large heavy parcel addressed to a building we didn’t recognise. Fortunately there was the address and phone number of the sender on the label so we contacted them and asked them to do something about it. Early the next day we received a call from the person who was expecting the parcel and he volunteered to collect it. He arrived within a few minutes and as he thanked us; his eyes lit on our Newfoundland wall, “I’ve got a Newfoundland dog” he said. The conversation then turned from parcels to Newfs and ended up with an invitation to visit their dog.

Naturally we took up the invitation, we hadn’t had close contact with Newfs since Hogan had died and that was some years ago. We had longed to have contact with them but the opportunity had never arisen before, so now was our chance. We arrived in their yard where several cars were parked but what we noticed most was a large black head stuck through the cat flap. He was obviously excited and we were afraid he would tear the door off its hinges so we quickly went over and made a fuss of the head. In a few minutes the door opened and a huge ball of black fur leapt out at us, if you know what a Newfoundland’s greeting is like then you will know how it was on initial contact. Loki calmed down after a little while and we all introduced ourselves.

He was just a year old and owned by two busy people, we got an invitation to visit him or borrow him whenever we wanted, a gift from heaven, at the moment we are discussing how best to use this wonderful chance. We visited him again yesterday he was much calmer and much more demanding of fusses and now have an open invitation to visit him any time we like. It’s funny how a miss placed parcel can open up the world to you, our reviewer was right we now have a Newf to cuddle.

 Life with my Newfoundlands  -  amazon.com/dp/B00JY83NJO

 

Mike's Saudi (10) Saudi Justice

It seems to me that much is misunderstood about the punishment as dictated by the Koran it is widely believed that if a man steals his hand will be severed and this is so. But I believe the thief is given three chances and the man must admit his crime; if he has stolen food because he is hungry then it is the communities fault for not supporting him. I once saw a criminal on the plane I was travelling on, chained to his guard, I heard he was to be executed for what crime I don’t know but all he did was to recite the Koran. He showed no fear whatsoever and looked quite calm.

We used to live in town where our villa was surrounded by the usual purdah but in this case the top three feet had fancy block work. My wife saw a couple of eyes looking through the block work at her on several occasions. I took this up with Abu Garda (see blog 5) and he said “Tell your wife to get a stick and next time she sees him let her poke his eyes out. Nothing will happen to her” Naturally she didn’t but it did show their approach to this sort of thing, however I’m not too sure how they would react to an expatriate wife blinding somebody.

I was told of a case where a man working on the roof of a building fell off onto a man below killing him. The dead man’s wife could choose between financial compensation or demand the death of the man who had unfortunately killed her husband. The case came before the Saudi judge and as was her right the woman chose that the death of her husband’s killer despite the judges advice she insisted. The judge ruled he could not deny the woman her right but he could decide the manner in which it should be accomplished. “You will throw yourself off the same building on to your husband killer so that he might die in the same manner as your late husband” the woman settled for compensation. I have a great respect for Islamic justice; it was nice to live in a country where there was virtually no crime.

Mike's Saudi (9) Memories of Khamis Mushayt

As I’ve been writing this blog about my memories of Saudi Arabia I thought I better look up the places I knew well on the web.  Youtube seem to have a reasonable selection of video clips and I was shocked Khamis Mushayt a village at a cross road that I loved is now a modern city with hotels and great shops. To think I was there when the first “Supper Market” opened, yes that was the way they spelt it. A large roofed space filled with piles of everything you could think of, the supply of goods was a little uncertain. I remember a rumour going round that a truck of Golden Syrup had delivered it’s cargo to the “Supper Market” and you better get down there pretty fast if you want some. When Syb joined me out there straight from the UK, she decided to have a bath “Look at this insect I had to shush it on to the side while I had my bath” it was a scorpion. We had a lot to learn and I’m glad to say both she and my daughter Karen caught my enthusiasm for the place.

I don’t know what it was that appealed to us as life was pretty basic and perhaps that’s what made it so special a simple life with genuine people, the fact that we didn’t speak the same language made no difference., It was the first place we had lived in Saudi and in many ways I wish it had been the last when we understood more of the culture. Somehow looking back on it we lacked some of the understanding we gained later.

I was fortunate in having Ali Badi as a friend, he gently introduced me into their way of life, religion and culture. In those early days before Syb and Karen joined me Ali and I spent a good deal of time together at his house where we had to chase a goat out of his lounge before we sat down to a small cup of Arabic coffee. I never saw his wife as she would make the coffee and leave it behind the door for Ali to collect. I never stayed overnight at his house as I lived close by but I was there for breakfast one day when we planned to visit Wadi Mahala the only stream in Saudi to run throughout the year; it came up out of a hole, ran for maybe a couple of miles and disappeared down another hole. In parts it was wide and shallow, Ali parked his car in the middle and threw water over it “Look Mike Saudi car wash”. That was his sense of humour, one day I found him sitting in a deck chair stripped to the waist “To day I’m English” he said as I approached.

I often wonder how my Saudi friends are getting on, we’ll all be old men now and their neck of the woods is now full of modern cities and has big trouble just round the corner. It’s a very different world.

 

Mike's Saudi (8) Three more wives

I realised the other day these blogs I’ve been writing are all of times in the 1970s and 80s much will have changed and in the Middle East, it will be a very different world to the one I knew out there. I feel that Syb and I were out there at a most interesting time a time which is now lost as is much of the world of my youth in England. It is odd that in my last year or two out there, relationships seem to be changing hardly noticeable but a slight estrangement in the way friendships continued. It was hardly noticeable but I believe the religious authorities were worried about the increasing influence of the west not in a religious way but more life style and aspirations most of which were frowned upon by the Koran. Or was it the seizure of the Grand Mosque in 1979 that eventually turned the tide?

I believe the Koran specifically forbids Muslims from trying to convert others to Islam, but as is in their nature my Saudi friends were keen for me to become a Muslim and although they couldn’t try to convert me directly there were other ways in which they would try. One of these was for me to become a Saudi national which would mean I would have to become a Muslim. I loved their way of life as an outsider but to live in a country where the law and culture is bound to the Koran and to learn the Arabic language would be a great strain for one who had been brought up in conservative England, although financially I would have gained tremendously. My problem was to explain without hurting or offending my friends that I really wasn’t Saudi material. I thought I had a fool proof plan I would explain that Syb, who had many Saudi lady friends who lived in large family circles, would be lonely living without the support of her family. “No” my colleagues said “Marry three more wives then she would have a family to be company for her”.

Somehow I didn’t think Syb would approve but it was the way of their religion to allow a man four wives at the same time. The theory was that men need more satisfaction and four wives would avoid adultery, however another three wives would be very expensive, even at that time, and tiring, as all of them would be required to have equal status as instructed by their religion. I thought it better to encourage my colleagues believe my excuse.

Mike's Saudi (7) Meeting Mansour and His Father

There are times in life when you meet people who you naturally trust and almost immediately become friends, so it was when Mansour and I started to work together. He was what might be described as a middle class Saudi with western leanings but a strong reliance on his faith. So he tended to understand me and my sense of humour and I had by this time been in Saudi long enough to more or less understand him. Within a few hours of our meeting I had taken him home and introduced him to Syb, we had a cup of tea made the Arabic way which impressed him, then, much to our surprise, he suggested we go to his home to meet his wife. This should be seen in the context of the time and of Islam, wives did not meet other males outside the family.

We were naturally flattered. When we arrived at his home both of us were ushered in to the family lounge and introduced to Fateeha his wife and the children. Syb and Fateeha immediately took to each other and learnt to converse with each other in a half English and half Arabic over the coming weeks. Because we all seemed to integrate so well from that moment on we became members of his family and whenever we visited we all used the family lounge, the only exception was when non-family men or women visited, then we used to split into the two lounges. Mansours extended family was very large and we were introduced round “This is my brother from another mother” was not unusually his father had had many wives but no more than four at a time as was required by Islam. We met him later at a wedding when he was over 90 and was considering another wife, Syb met the lucky lady(?) who was 40 at the same event and she was adamant she was not marrying such an old man. I believe she won out.

Mansour was an influential person his father having been with King Saud when he united the country, before that he fought with the French and it was rumoured that he could hit a egg with his rifle from the back of a galloping camel. If you have seen a galloping camel you will know what feat of shooting that is, if it’s true. The wedding was the only time we met the old man, unfortunately we spoke no Arabic at the time and felt much embarrassed as he reeled off the languages he could speak; it seemed in the end that English was one of the few he was unable to speak. But even though we couldn’t communicate directly, there were plenty of people who could translate for us. I really admired him he had such a great presence. Oddly enough Mansour and I never seemed to speak about him again and I have no idea how he fared.

I seem to have strayed a little from where I started but I will return to Mansour and Fateeha in later blogs. I know that some of the background against which I write seem strange to those who have not lived in an Islamic society. Syb’s book ‘Inshallah’ does give a fair picture of a Muslim family life in the way we experienced it in 1978.(amazon.com/dp/B007OIX3XM)   

 

Mike's Saudi Six - A Street in Dahran

( Sorry that this blog is late but we had an issue with the computer our only digital device it ok now)

Towards the end of our stay in Saudi Arabia we lived in a large but developing city in the east of the country. Despite the surroundings there still existed some traits of earlier customs, one of which was that Bedouins would come into town, bringing items from their earlier lifestyle to sell largely to Westerners. I could hardly imagine a Saudi buying what they considered old junk and which we considered prized historical artefacts.

The Bedouins would sit on the board pavements surrounded by these items and drink tea ignoring all who passed by. If you saw something that you found particularly attractive the form was to sit on the pavement alongside the seller and talk to him in English and he would answer you in Arabic as though he knew what you had said. He would during this meaningless but necessary conversation offer you a tea, of course you accepted as it would insult him if you refused. He would then take the cup he had been using toss the dregs away, swill some fresh tea round in it to clean it out and refill it and hand it to you.

After some time as you sat drinking his tea you might indicate the item you were interested in; at which point he would nod and in an unhurried way write some figures on a piece of paper. Now before you went on this type of shopping it was essential to learn the Arabic numbers. (Early in my Saudi career I offered more than the seller was asking!) He would hand you the paper which represented the starting price about this time he would find another cup and you would sit together in conversation as before drinking tea and altering the figures on the piece of paper until a mutually satisfactory price was arrived at; this could take up to an hour or even longer.

During one such episode, I was in the process of negotiating a price for nicely crafted wheel from an old well. I think I’d got it down to about half the original price when an American lady walked up bent over my Bedouin friend and offered him full price. He looked absolutely disgusted and waved her away, what she failed to see was that this was much more than a sale it was a social occasion. From my side it was a great way to spend a morning and get a piece of Saudi history, I still have the wheel and treasure the memories it brings back.

Mike's Saudi Five The Round Tuit

My colleague and workmate Abu Garda was also an Imam and had committed the whole of the Koran to memory a prodigious feat and could recite sections of it in a delightful half sung style of the Islamic clerics. (I wonder how many Christians have learnt the Bible from cover to cover.) Not only was he working with me but he was also studying English Literature at the University, from this you might gather he was exceptionally intelligent, and he was. His spoken English was excellent and his written English even better. As an Imam he would pray five times a day and during his prayer time he would give me a passage from an English translation of the Koran to read so we could discuss it on his return. Despite all his accomplishments he was a typical Saudi in that much that what could be done today was left to tomorrow, when I accused him of procrastination he would smile and say “It is our way we will do it later Inshallah”.

Twice a year Syb and I would take leave in the UK and it was on one of these leaves that we discovered a little gift shop that had some ‘Round tuit’s' for sale. A ‘Round tuit’; is usually a plate with the phrase printed round the circumference and a little verse explaining that now you have an ‘Round tuit’ you can do things immediately I can’t remember the exact wording but that was the gist of it. I later found the above example. An ideal little gift for Abu I thought.

After returning from leave and back at work, I presented Abdul with his gift. He looked at it for a long time with a serious demeanour, he lifted his eyes to me and said “Mr Mike isn’t it very rude to call someone a fat twit?” It took me a long time to have him understand the meaning of ‘Round tuit’ but eventually he gave me a smile of acceptance and we continued to work together happily as before.

 

Mike's Saudi Four - The weightlifter

I was asked to photograph a Saudi weight lifter as he tried to beat the Saudi record, I have no idea what classification he was in or the weight he was to lift all I know is I couldn’t have lifted it unless I had a JCB. It was at a local sports day, I stood in front of him as he prepared himself for the lift, camera ready, he bent to grab the bar, lifted the weights on to his chest, then pushed the bar above his head. Snap the picture taken as he stood there with every sinew and muscle in his body straining to hold steady the load. It was in the days of film cameras and I had to take it away to be developed and printed.

I was so pleased with the results, it had been taken out doors and the sun gave texture to the bulging muscles the Saudi record the face strained with effort captured, I had a wonderful picture for him. Later in the day I showed him the print of it, he looked at it sadly “Mr Mike” he said “I am not smiling, we must do it again so I can smile when you take the photograph.”

True enough he organised the lift again, it followed the same procedure as before except that when he was struggling to hold the weight above his head for a brief millisecond he smiled and thank heavens I managed to catch it. The final print showed a strong man lifting the Saudi record weight and smiling as though it was as light as a feather. Perhaps he was right to insist on taking it again.

Mike's Saudi Three

“Kaleefa would be classed as a rogue by the Saudi establishment, I prefer to think of him as a man who went his own way, although a Muslim he was not always guided by the Koran which led him into some scrapes. Of which I was involved in one.

Even though it was Ramadan we had an inspection by a high ranking official who would be visiting the establishment where Kaleefa and I worked. On the morning of the inspection he had not shown up he was usually late but this time it was particularly bad. As the inspection team drew nearer to our building Kaleefa showed up drunk and smoking, it was only minutes before they would walk through our door. He was in no way connected to me as we worked on different projects and I could have left him to his fate but I like him he was an individual among many who were the same. I got rid of his cigarette told him to shut up and locked him in a large steel cupboard. The rest of us stood by as our inspection took place fortunately he was not missed even though the inspecting group talked to us for what seemed ages. Eventually they left and I could let Kaleefa out, as I opened the doors I found him slumped rather awkwardly in the bottom of the cupboard asleep and I had worried about him giving himself away by making a noise. He went home immediately afterwards but the following day he thanked me for hiding him and I realised what might have happened to me if they’d found him.

In Saudi like many places marriages are arranged and this is often seen from the women’s side but it can also be difficult for the men too, not meeting your future partner can be hazardous. So it was for Kaleefa, at a late stage in the arrangements for his wedding he found his intended brides phone number. Naturally he phoned her and said something like “Why don’t we meet and check each other out, I might be ugly and spotty?” Well she obviously agreed as she was the only Saudi bride I knew of who was pregnant at her wedding. This may sound funny to us but the punishments for this sort of behaviour in Saudi are quite dire.

The last time I met Kaleefa was at Jidda airport, Syb and I were flying out for a spell of leave when suddenly from out of the crowd he appeared. Change your plans he said come and spend your leave with me at Taif, it was tempting but our families were expecting us back home. Though Kaleefa and I sailed pretty close to the wind we seem to escape the consequences. Perhaps we should have gone to Taif after all.”

Mike's Saudi Two

I’ll let Mike continue, he seems to be enjoying it.

“Mohammed was also a Bedouin but of a poorer background and a simpler man, though he had proved himself within the culture by getting married and fathering a son. We were friends and on a number of times he had saved me embarrassment caused by my ignorance of the local custom.

A little time after Syb and my daughter Karen joined me out there Mohammed invited us round for an afternoon naturally I wouldn’t insult him by refusing though I did wonder what we had let ourselves in for. He lived in a little block built house of a single room with a corrugated iron lean to. At the time his son had not been born so the whole space inside was given over to entertaining us. Although Karen could speak no Arabic and Mohammed’s wife knew no English they got on like a house on fire each speaking their own language and admiring the wife’s golden jewellery, this as with all Saudi women represented her personal wealth. They were the same age, sixteen.

Mean while Mohammed, Syb and I conversed in English, I can’t remember now the subject but at intervals during the conversation a few Saudi women would come in and settle down, each time Mohammed would tell then to take their veil off and they would sit there unveiled  some breast feeding their children. After a little while Arabic tea arrived along with some little European cup cakes, I had never seen this type of cake in Saudi before and I have no idea where he had found them. But I imagine he had gone to a great deal of trouble to get them.

As we all sat there without veils eating English cup cakes and drinking Saudi tea, Mohammed nudged me with his elbow “Just like England” he said. I managed not to laugh for he had tried to create what he believed was a European environment. Where he had done his research I don’t know but he was not in a position to have learnt it from any of his normal sources in a little brick room in the mountains of the Asair Province. We were honoured to be sat on the ground with our host and hostess who had gone to so much trouble to make us feel at home with an English afternoon tea.”

Mike's Saudi

 

This week I decided to let husband Mike have a go at writing a blog we were together in Saudi and because of the religion and culture we moved in very different worlds so here’s his take on it.

"I loved my time in Saudi Arabia, I was there for four years before Syb could join me and in that time I got to know many of the locals. People like Ali Badi a Bedouin and the son of the tribes chief, of all the people I have ever known he is the one I would describe as a natural gentleman and I’m pleased to say a good friend of mine. He lived the normal Saudi life so I never met his wife other than when fully covered she brought the in tea to her husband’s lounge and left immediately, at such times it was polite for me to ignore her. This would seem very strange to our western culture but Ali’s wife refused a trip to the US simply because she would have to take her veil off so she was pleased rather than offended that I ignored her.

When I was there it was a case of trying to understand the Saudi culture, after all they had lived with it for many hundreds of years and who’s to say my way would be better for them? Actually their culture which was almost totally based on the Koran had much to recommend it, I don’t need to go into it here and I only understand what brushed off on me but it did seem to work for them. King Fisel who was ruler when I first went out was a very wise man and instituted a lot of rules for the development of his country.

To try to bring Saudi into the modern world, a country with a small population and a strictly non technical background he had to rely on the Western countries to educate his people. Even though the conditions for the expatriates were separated from the population it was inevitable that they would mix, western ideas would spread and it was inevitable that in time there would be clashes of culture and misunderstanding. Why is it that we in the West can’t accept that there are other ways of doing things and keep our noses out of others life styles, religions and cultures? I suspect that if we had done there would be a lot less terrorism in the world.

A lot has changed from when Ali and I used to sit and drink tea together in his lounge."