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.
No comments:
Post a Comment