Janadriyah

This past weekend was full of interesting things - on Thursday (the equivalent of Saturday here) we went to Easter Brunch at the American Embassy, followed by evening dinner and dancing at the Canadian Embassy. Then on Friday (like Sunday), as if to make up for all the anti-Saudi debauchery of the day before, we ventured to the Janadriyah cultural festival just outside of Riyadh. The festival was essentially the Saudi version of the Stampede - only minus the beer gardens and dramatic spike in STI rates of infection (one would assume).

Let me start with the American brunch. Who would have thought that copious amounts of bacon and champagne would go so well together? But the truth is when something is banned it suddenly becomes exponentially more desirable. I wouldn't have thought the unavailability of bacon would particularly bother me about living in this country, but when I saw the crispy oily goodness hot off the grill, it was all I could do to not grab the whole serving tray and run! Same goes champagne or any other alcoholic beverage - I'm not sure entirely how they get them into the country in the first place, but since the Embassy is technically American soil everything is available. And in the heat of the 35C afternoon, nothing beats drinking a Smirnoff Ice next to the shimmering pool (okay, lots of things beat that in my mind, but it was still pretty fun).

Then the Canadian Embassy... I have to say their decorations were better than the Americans - Christmas lights everywhere, little floating flowers in the pool, and obligatory statues of a moose and a beaver. Again, everything you never knew you loved until you moved to the Kingdom was available. The night's entertainment included music classics like Footloose, drunken dance floor mishaps, and flirtatious Turkish diplomats flaunting their diplomatic immunity - my life thrills me!

Then on to Janadriyah the next day... I really didn't know what to expect, but it ended up being a day well spent. The gates only open at 4pm which is partly because it's supposed to be a day of rest, but also because the heat is way too oppressive in the middle of the day. This whole country mostly comes alive at dusk when the sun is no longer trying to kill you. Most stores are open until 11pm or midnight!

Anyway, the entire fair ground is set up like a map of the Kingdom and each area has a pavilion with different displays of cultural artifacts and highlights of that area. The Riyadh area has a lot of government booths which, although not exactly thrilling, was interesting. The national treasury had displays of money in use in the area throughout history - at one point they were using French silver coins and just stamping some arabic word overtop of the image!

In the area representing the interior of the country, we walked past one stage where people seemed to be yelling at the audience very angrily. Faris (our hospital appointed guide) explained to us that this was a poetry competition (kind of like Youth Talent Showdown for the Stampede inclined out there). You could have fooled me that that was arabic poetry! But apparently poetry is very respected here and poets are given quite high esteem.

In one of the ladies only areas, a group of ladies took great pleasure in dressing up one of our group as a traditional Saudi bride and then drumming and dancing and laughing. The whole procedure of getting Christina ready for her "wedding" took about half an hour and by the end she looked like she was ready to drop dead of heat exhaustion. Our antics attracted quite the crowd and the whole little building was filled with veiled women trying to get pictures of us as we danced and sang along with our "bride". One veiled girl even wanted a picture of just herself and I, of course I obliged and got one too.

During the entire day, we were quite the hit with the locals and I'm certain the number of not so clandestinely taken pictures of us is well over 100! Any time we were standing around people would stop and openly stare at us, then whip out their iPhones and Blackberries and start snapping pictures of the white girls in abayas at the festival.

The day finished with watching some traditional dancing and singing, essentially the Kingdom Grandstand Show - there were even fireworks! The crowd observing the show was jubilant and joined right in on the dancing and waving of swords (I obviously missed the BYO sword memo). We had to leave the show a bit early to catch our bus which meant we had to push through the crowd of men (women sit up on the hill, only the men join in the festivities). As we were wending our way through the crowd all the men were turning to look at us while still dancing, in a moment of what must have been temporary insanity, I decided to join in the fun and started mimicking their dance moves. At first a few started to cheer and shout, and then suddenly the entire crowd of hundreds of men was shouting and calling and surging towards us with their swords at hand. I wasn't really expecting that! And neither was Faris who immediately panicked and started hurrying us along and shoving the men back. Lesson learned - no dancing amidst arab men!

Since when is "Dust" a weather pattern?

Everyday since I arrived on the peninsula (almost a month ago - yikes) my trusty Weather Network has religiously informed me that the weather is 30-something and Dust - evidently when you live in the desert, Dust is a weather pattern.

I have heard of dust storms, only my Alberta upbringing leads me to picture something like a snowstorm but hotter. This however is nowhere close to what a dust storm is like. It starts with a smell - kind of like a museum meets construction zone. No matter how deep you are inside a building, or how blasting your air conditioner is running, the smell of the dust seeps in all the cracks and finds it's way to your lungs. When you become consciously aware of the smell, you start to notice the noise, like a whooshing of wind through a tunnel, but more subtle. And more than that you notice that it mutes all the other noises you have become accustomed to - the roar of traffic or the hum of a fan. Finally you notice the dust itself - clouding the air with millions upon millions of minuscule particles that settle on every surface or are swept up in ferocious winds like tiny projectiles. People here seem to regard the dust rather like an entity all in itself.

We had just such a dust storm today. As the dust began to settle in, a colleague of mine grabbed a mask and pushed it into my hand saying "quickly, before they are all gone!" And sure enough, within minutes every patient, visitor and staff member was suddenly hidden behind medical masks - and everywhere empty boxes of masks littered the work stations.

My roommate and I braved the storm to snap a few pictures in the entrance to the Emergency Department - they don't look nearly as dramatic as the scene in real life. It really just looks cloudy in the shots - but I assure you, it is angry lung clogging dust! We walked home later wearing our masks and squinting hard to try to keep the dust out of our eyes. The dust has been here for a few hours now and it doesn't appear to be departing any time soon.

I now have a little stash of masks in my room so as not to be caught unawares by the insidious dust!

The Edge of the World

The city of Riyadh sits atop a plateau in the desert landscape, and just a short drive out of the city exists the dramatic vista showcasing this topographical wonder known as "The Edge of the World". I'm not really sure who gave it that title because it certainly isn't in my Lonely Planet and I doubt the bedouin roaming about call it anything special - but say you're going to The Edge of the World to any expat living here and they surely know what you mean: stunning scenery - check; desert 4x4ing - check; un-abayaed Western girls in tank-tops - check; fraternizing with the opposite sex - check!

The members of this expedition come from all over the planet but they all have one thing in common - a longing for Western style socialization. People come to this country to do every job imaginable from teaching to nursing to engineering, and while many come for the pay check, a lot stay because the lifestyle is so enjoyable. The main exception to that being the rigid segregation of the sexes that Westerners find so confusing and annoying. Strictly speaking it is illegal for an unmarried man and woman to even be in the same car together, let alone a car full of single men and women!

The key, we were told, to not getting stopped by the religious police was to look inconspicuous - somehow 20 SUVs full of Westerners driving caravan style out of Riyadh is not my definition of inconspicuous, but all went well and a few kilometres off the highway we stopped for the first time so us girls could rip off our abayas and shove them under the seats. A few escapades with a tow-rope and an SUV vs. steel rod incident later, we arrived at our campsite and the amicable scene that unfolded was like any campground in Kananaskis (with the added bonus of camel poop) - people throwing footballs, tents springing up beside little charcoal cooking stoves and music ringing from open car doors.

Of course such a sublime mood didn't last long - once the sun was down the restrictions of this land were cast aside and debauchery ensued. What else had I expected? As it turns out though I missed most of the "thrilling" drunk boy fighting because I was off enjoying the stars and the cool desert wind.

The next morning we scrambled along the very edge of The Edge of The World and were rewarded by the breathtaking views. I wonder how many nationals of this country come out here to appreciate the vastness and beauty of the desert - it doesn't seem to be very many. We did have a rather one sided argument with a bedouin camel shepherd in a Toyota who found it necessary to pick through our garbage and leave a mess all over the ground. Of course he didn't speak a word of English and most of the group were more enthralled by the herd of camels we found ourselves in, so it was a losing battle from the start.

Now back home, I can't quite bring myself to wash the desert sand off my abaya yet - the city is so confining and hospital orientation so mundane, I sort of want to keep the memory of the desert alive, at least for a little while.