I'll be back!

People often have an erroneous idea of what the expat life is like. It goes from the idea of a miserable, boring life, to one of a lazy, luxury, pampered life.

So where does the truth lie? 

Probably somewhere in between...

Sometimes it isn't any different than the life you had in your home country: sleep, work, eat, see some friends, just the regular routine.

Sometimes you feel lonely and you wish you were home, your expat country doesn't look so welcoming any more.

And sometimes you experience the true joy of being an expat, and it reminds you why you enjoy so much being away from home.  

Yesterday was one of those days...

I got up in the morning, took a taxi to go to my Arabic school. On the way I chatted with the orange-bearded Bangladeshi taxi driver (I should tell him that henna does not look good on white hair, especially if it's your beard you're dyeing!).

When I arrived at the school, one of the Saudi administrators invited me for an Arabic coffee with a piece of delicious cake, and then I wrote my final exam (which I aced by the way!). 

Back home, I had the most interesting chat with my South African neighbour, in particular about the Apartheid period in South Africa, and how the society has changed and is still changing regarding interracial relations. 

A couple of hours later I was at my Belgian neighbour's, helping her with a translation from Flemish to French.

That's the real magic of being an expat: you might be living in a quite ugly and boring Saudi town, many times it feels like you're travelling to many countries in the same day.

Speaking of travelling, I'm off to France tomorrow! I'll be spending Christmas and New Year's there with my family and I can't wait!

This lonely Christmas tree is waiting for more presents!
(Let's hope KLM doesn't lose my suitcases again!)

Happy holidays!

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow...

Obviously - and thankfully - I'm not referring to the weather but to the Christmas carol that I had the pleasure to hear in a shop in neighbouring Bahrain. 

Here in Saudi, there's absolutely no hint of Christmas anywhere: no Christmas songs (actually no music at all!) in the shops, no trees, no lights, no chocolate, nothing at all, except for some expat neighbours who have decorated their houses with smuggled tinsels and fairy lights.

In Bahrain Christmas is just another seasonal event, and although it's a discreet one, it was enough to lift our Christmas spirit!

I feel it in my fingers...

I feel it in my toes...

Christmas is all around me...

And so the feeling grows!

Fancy a good laugh at my expense? Keep reading! 

Now picture me on Friday night, coming back from abaya-free Bahrain, stopping at a mall in Al-Khobar (to exchange a clothing item, as usual, since we cannot try clothes on before buying them!), busy writing to a friend on her birthday, when I suddenly cried out: "no mames, mi abaya!" (which could be translated as: "no kidding, my abaya!"). I had indeed forgotten to put on my abaya before stepping out of the car! The minute I realized it I just felt sooo naked! Thanks God we had not entered the mall yet, but we were a good 100 meters away from the car. The worst part is, I was wearing a skirt, heels and a leather jacket... Although in Europe no one would actually have turned and looked at me, in KSA I was feeling like a woman of ill-repute! Thanks God I made it safely back to the car without any mutawa scolding me!

A foretaste of the Christmas holidays

School's been canceled today.

Not because His Highness decided to grant us yet another bank holiday, not because one of the many industrial plants in the area exploded or leaked (which would actually be more likely to happen), not because it's snowing (!), but simply because of a (sand)storm alert. 

So we're in for some cocooning!

Love to watch the rain from a safe, dry place

Some cat trying to get inside
(oh please don't pity him, it's not so cold outside, and the porch is dry, and I gave him some milk he didn't even deign to touch... ungrateful cat!)

Drowning plants in our backyard

Our nochebuena reminding us Christmas is coming very soon

For the moment it's only raining. And I wonder if a sandstorm is actually compatible with rain: would it be raining mud then??

The sky might be dark, Lila Downs's luminous voice is lightening up my day (thank you Ramiro!):

A little generation clash

This post has nothing to do with living in Arabia but it might give some of you a laugh, so what the hell! I'm the one you'll be laughing at anyway!

Some context first: I'm teaching some 14-17 year old at the international school, mostly girls, who wear make up and nice clothes and whose hair look better than mine, and who are quite mature, too. I, for my part, am in my late 20's now, but still feel as if I were just out of college. So sometimes, I don't feel there's so much  of an age difference with the students although, as much as it might hurt to admit, it's almost a one-generation difference. 

So I was doing this game during the Spanish class (a fun, interesting and obviously pedagogical game featured in the movie Inglorious Bastards), where we had to pick famous Spanish-speaking people for the rest of the class to discover. 

As I thought Shakira would be too obvious (which it actually was: it was picked by two students in the same game), I thought about this guy:

Much to my distress, I soon noticed that half of the class had never heard his name before, and the other half could hardly remember what he sang! I suddenly felt soooo old!

The worst (or best?) part is, when I was thinking about how to help the students recall what Ricky Martin used to sing, I obviously thought about the 98 World Cup. Somehow - and thanks God! - I didn't mention anything to the students. Only later did I realize that my 15 year-old students were only 2 years old back then! No wonder they can't remember that!

Have a good Sunday everybody; I for myself will keep thinking about who my next famous person will be (I'm between Julio Iglesias and Selena Gómez...)

Science ≠ boring

When we're not working, eating or socializing, we try to attend local events or visit local points of interest. 

Speaking of local events, which are fairly scarce, Al-Khobar is hosting a Red Bull motorsports race next Wednesday, which unfortunately - although it was something to expect - will not be open to women. 

Anyway, after we'd eaten a reasonably good brunch at the Intercontinental and socialized a bit with our Saudi friend, we decided to go to the Sci-Tech museum (whose IMAX we'd already visited in January) and visited the Sci-Tech part this time. This is a great museum with many many practical activities to try so you can learn while having fun.

We used robots to stack up some foam blocks

We tried to manoeuvre a plane moved by a blower

We helped a solar powered car model gain speed

We built a suspension bridge model

It looks like we passed this one!

We discovered the power of pulleys to pull our own weight up

We built an anti-seismic building model
(which collapsed once the shaking belt reproduced an earthquake!)

We went on a NASA mission (which we also failed!)

We also tried to solve complicated puzzles (with the help of the security guard!)

Richard learnt a lot of new stuff; I only realized how vast my ignorance actually is...

A great read!

Sometimes - rarely! -  reading can be just as good as travelling. As we were forced to stay home during the Eid holiday, my only salvation was reading!

Girls of Riyadh - Rajaa Alsanea

This book was such a good pick I wanted to share it with you. Described as the Arabian "Sex and the City", it's just a must-read if you want - and who doesn't? - to get to know the young Saudi girls, their dreams, their conception of love, of friendship, of happiness. As they fall in love, get engaged, get married, get divorced, fight against their families, their friends, and try to find their place in a conservative society, you'll find yourself thinking they're not unlike your own friends.


What about love in Saudi Arabia? The last paragraph of the book sums it up very nicely:

"As for love, it still might always struggle to come out into the light of day in Saudi Arabia. You can sense that in the sighs of bored men sitting alone at cafés, in the shining eyes of veiled women walking down the streets, in the phone lines that spring to life after midnight, and in the heartbroken songs and poems, too numerous to count, written by the victims of love unsanctioned by family, by tradition, by the city: Riyadh."

Discrimination or privilege?

What's wrong with this picture?

I went to the bank yesterday. As I am an independant woman (!), I went on my own. Only, as I'd been told my husband's absence could be a problem and I didn't want to lose my - precious! - time, I decided to try the bank's ladies' branch. I only knew, as the name says, that these branches are for women only to go to, but I'd never actually been to one before.

When I approached the tinted glass door, a nice female guard opened the door and greeted me before she locked the door behind me. I entered a nice, clean, spacious office, took my turn and sat down, waiting to be called. After about 2 minutes I was invited to sit down in front of a - female - executive. She was wearing a very elegant suit by the way. As did the rest of the female workers. She greeted me with a smile, took my cheque, handed me a pen to write my name and number on it, took it back, gave me the corresponding amount of money, said ma'a salaama, and off I went!

Boring story eh? Well the reason I shared this, is because this experience took the very last bit of feminism I used to have inside me. I mean, I used to think, why should there be places for ladies only? Are we any different that we can't go to the same bank men go to? But yesterday I understood...! Because, as you probably don't know, some places in Saudi Arabia, especially downtown Jubail, are not quite civilized! So my experience in a regular bank branch used to be: come in, take your turn, stand around for half an hour in the middle of a crowd of stinky workmen, go to the window, don't receive any greeting, barely get looked at or spoken to by the bank assistant, and leave under the stare of the workmen. Not the nicest of experiences, and not one you'd like to repeat. 

What would you do? Have I lived in KSA for too long already? Is it time I got back to a country where women are treated without discrimination nor privileges?

Just so you get an idea of downtown Jubail:
people queuing in front of a remittance office on a Friday night.