Learning Arabic

I've just written this term's final exam for Arabic and I realize I haven't written much about my classes. I actually had a great time this whole semester and I enjoyed a lot going to classes. I'm looking forward to starting level 2 in September. In the meantime I'll have to try and practise a bit so I don't forget everything over the summer.

I've been taking classes in a women's "guidance" centre which offers language classes (English for Saudi women and Arabic for expats) as well as Qur'an and Tajweed (to learn how to recite the Qur'an). I was only taking Arabic, two days a week. We were about 12 women in the class, mostly from Malaysia, and also from India, Pakistan, and I was lucky to find another French student in the class! I was the only non-Muslim in the class, but it didn't really matter, since I was never treated any different, neither by my teacher nor by my fellow students. Well, except for the day my teacher asked me what religion I was, to which her reaction was: "At least you're not Jewish!". 

Of course the classes revolve around Islam, since it's an integral part of Saudi culture and way of life. I thought I'd show you a couple of excerpts from our book, so you get a better idea:

Talking about nationalities - adapting to our geographical location

Women's faces are never shown on the pictures, you can only see the back of their covered head

Talking about travelling to Mecca and going to the mosque for  the Friday prayer

Local insight on the Arab Spring

I found this very interesting article in a Bahraini (fashion) magazine; I thought I'd share it with you, it's quite interesting how the (Saudi) author talks about the subject without really naming it, in a very difficult, but very well done exercice of self-censored communication. (Just click on the image to enlarge it)

When in Rome...

... do as the Romans do! Tried and adopted! (whatever the cost)

When you're invited for dinner by an Indian family, you tend to expect the worst. When you enter the building lobby, the sight of a clean, marble floor reassures you; however, as you get into the elevator, the undefinable smell is not as comforting. Neither are the people you pass by in the corridor. When the door opens, you smile (basic manners!) to the guest and his wife (who doesn't smile as much - by the end of the evening you won't even know if she speaks english) and to their two children (who hardly notice you between their plate of food and the Indian soap opera on TV). Coming into the appartment, you keep smiling on the short way leading to the - only - sofa which you won't move from in the following couple of hours. When your host keeps talking about work with your husband, you just stare around: the host's wife keeping busy in the kitchen in front of you, frying small flatbreads for dinner, the son playing on his Nintendo DS, the daughter fascinated by the Indian soap operas (which fascinated me too: I was wondering what the plot could be between a tall, handsome Indian, a very pretty untouchable, two beggars, and some other beautiful woman. But believe me, it didn't look like the classical love triangle!). When dinner is served, you thank God the guest was thoughtful enough to put a spoon on your plate, and you try to eat as you have seen the children doing: tearing off a bit of flatbread and using it to grab some vegetable curry. When the guest's wife keeps serving you more food and you cannot eat anymore, and since the guest has appointed your husband "official communicator" earlier on, you find yourself shouting your husband to tell her to stop serving you more food! A couple of minutes after you're finished eating and you've been holding your greasy hands above your lap, afraid to stain anything, you realize there won't be any napkins and you should just rub your hands against each other (at the end of the dinner, you're told you can go to the bathroom to wash your hands - only to discover there isn't any soap!).

 After the last of the three (!) desserts, when you're offered a plate of cardamom pods and cloves, and explained they are used as a mouth freshener, you strategically pick only one cardamom pod (you don't like cloves) and as you start chewing it, finding the seeds are too spicy if you crunch them, you strategically take them out of the pod and swallow them all (it's a lot of them!) and keep the pod in a corner of your mouth until the party is over (not long after that). 

When you come home you actually realize it wasn't that bad at all, and eating vegetarian doesn't keep you from getting fat!

This week-end, I ran into...

... two great salsa dancers who made me feel like finally learning how to dance to latin music 

... a waiter who served me a Piña Colada (making me feel like going to a Mexican beach this summer!)

... a Bahraini soldier who showed us the way back to our hotel, after we realized we'd forgotten about the curfew and a whole sector of the city was closed off until the morning

... a Filipino water slide attendant who pushed the rubber ring I was seating on into the very steep slope of a giant half pipe! It left me voiceless and breathless but I still rushed to do it again!

... dozens of Arab youngsters who all happened to go to the same cinema hall I was heading to! They were looking for Jack Sparrow; I was looking for Johnny Depp!

Looking forward to...

It's been weeks since I've gone there and I'm looking forward to spending the weekend in Bahrain! 

But I have to be fair, life in KSA is actually very enjoyable and I hope that's the feeling you get from reading this blog. Still, I always look forward to going to Bahrain for the weekend! 

Anyone watching people queuing up on King Fahd Causeway, waiting to cross the border to Bahrain would think that they are after alcohol and/or women. This may be true for some Saudis, but I guess most people are actually after something else. I'm not saying I don't enjoy having a drink, still it's definitely not what I'm after when I go to Bahrain. Going to other Islamic neighbouring countries (Oman, Kuwait, Bahrain), you notice so many differences with KSA, which go way beyond the legality of alcohol. 

What I enjoy so much abroad is: 

- I can practise my driving, 

- I don't have to wear an abaya (black long-sleeved dress) on top of my clothes (and I can therefore enjoy wearing nice clothes!), 

- I can actually try on clothes before buying them (in KSA you first buy, then go to the mall's bathroom to try the clothes on, then go back to the store to exchange the items if they don't fit), 

- my shopping is not interrupted by prayers (in KSA, shops close around 25-30 minutes 4 times a day) 

- and I can enjoy eating out in nicely decorated restaurants, in an open, lively dining room, playing live or recorded music.

Just so you get an idea, that's how restaurants look like in Jubail:

There are always two entrances leading to two sections: single section and family section. However, your marital status doesn't really matter. If you are a married man going on your own, or with male friends, you have to go to the single section. If your are a single woman, you have to go to the family section. So the single section is more like a man-only section, and the family section is for women and the men who accompany them. 

And that's how most family sections look like around here: rows of compartments closed with curtains, so no one can accidentally see a woman's face. There's obviously no music, no TV, no decoration. You hardly hear anything apart from "excuse me!" screamed from the compartments to the waiters when they need anything. If the compartment is closed with a wooden screen, like in the picture below, the customers simply knock on the screen to get the waiter's attention. (Obviously the women put their niqab back on before the waiter opens the curtains to attend them).

Now you know what I'm looking forward to this weekend! (And that's not having a nice glass of red wine to accompany my meal!)

Kuwaiti flirting

Driving along the 10-km-long Corniche in Kuwait City, it's not uncommon to be driven past by luxury cars every other minute. These would include Maserati, Ferrari, Porsche, Lamborghini, etc. and typically, they'd be driven by young Kuwaitis who'd challenge the car next to them whenever they'd stop at a traffic light. Reading this, you will gather Kuwait City is not the quietest of cities! Anyway, that's not the point I was coming to... 

During the day, you'd think these young and rich Kuwaitis enjoy driving expensive cars because:

     a) So many horses below the hood make them feel so powerful

     b) Driving fast rises their testosterone adrenaline level

     c) Their car looks cooler than yours

However, by night time, you realize it's a whole different story...

In the middle of the dense traffic of the Corniche, you suddenly notice the young and rich Kuwaitis drive with the window open in spite of the humid heat... Oh, and why won't they just move forward, it's been ages since the light went green... They just keep staring at the sides, while they should actually look ahead... What's so interesting to stare at anyway? What? Young - female - Kuwaitis also driving with their window car open? 

If you have not understood by now, in the lack of night clubs and given the cultural impossibility for them to flirt in public, it seems young Kuwaitis have found driving along the Corniche a nice way to meet and flirt. Now you'll understand the importance of the luxury car...!

And if you still have doubts about the Kuwaitis' flirtatious nature, check here!

Great moments in Kuwait City

Driving around Kuwait City

Climbing up the Kuwait towers

Spotting a love message on the beach under the Kuwait towers

Enjoying a great view of Kuwait city and its corniche

Catching the shadow of the small, needle-shaped Kuwait tower

Strolling around the souq

Coming face to face with the Telecommunications Tower

Having dinner in the hull of a - dry - dhow

Making eye-contact with a shark at the beautiful aquarium of Kuwait's Scientific Centre

Savouring HRC's delicious Jumbo Combo 

Observing Kuwait City's skyline at sunset
(Kuwait towers are at the very right end of the picture)

Visiting the Sadu House, a cultural foundation dedicated to Bedouin weaving

Having a nice cup of tea at the English Tea Lounge

Buying great books and international magazines at Virgin Megastore
The only thing with imported magazines is, they are a couple of months old, and might be a bit altered (you don't really think Rihanna would wear a black top under her dress, do you?!)