I've just been outside in the garden, It's nearly 10 o'clock at night and it's warm and velvety.
Whenever we have evenings like this my thoughts go back 20 years to my time in Saudi Arabia. We would often go shopping at this time of night, the shops were open until after midnight, and would stop at roadside stalls for a pint of freshly sqeezed orange juice. The vendors would take half a dozen large oranges and hand-squeeze them into a paper cup. The cost - about 10p.
Saudi is an oppressive régime, without doubt, but I found much there that I liked. The city of Riyadh is beautiful. There is very little there that is more than 50 years old and it has been built with care and with great attention to detail. The shopping malls are well designed and full of expensive but attractive merchandise. You can find restaurants of almost every nationality and the food is so good. We used to go, often, to a Fillipino restaurant where the waiter would always explain every item on the menu. There was a fish I had, regularly, that looked like a kipper but tasted divine and I have no idea what it was. He would never tell us what no. 23 was, though, and used to say, "English don't like that". It wasn't difficult to guess that it had 4 legs and a waggy tail.
I wasn't allowed to drive in Saudi, though I drove "off road" in the desert. I couldn't go out without covering my arms and legs either and I couldn't go out at all unless accompanied by my husband. In the compound where we lived, however, I spent my days sunbathing in a bikini and swimming in the pool.
A couple of times we went to the camel market about a mile outside the city. Imagine a flat, sandy landscape divided up into corales with fence-pales and wire, In each corale there are about 30 camels, dromedaries - they only have 1 hump - and there must be 1000 of them all together. Little Arab boys wander around, herding the camels, and grin at you when you take their photograph. They are usually Bedouins who no longer live in tents but in luxurious camper-vans.
In the city there were the sukhs - the markets. Outside the gates you would be inspected by the Mullahs, religious police, and if you weren't dressed appropriately they wouldn't let you in. Once inside you were met with an Aladdin's cave of gold and gems. Market stalls had their walls lined with gold chains and intricately worked jewellery. Half a wallful would keep you in luxury for the rest of your life. You want silk for a dress? Hundreds of colours and designs and they would make the dress for you in 24 hours.
The Saudi women were veiled from head to toe - in public. Their faces were completely covered, not even a slit for the eyes. Under the veils, though, were carefully made-up faces and under the abayah (the long black cloak) would often be designer clothes. If you got to know a Saudi woman, as I did, you knew a beautiful, intelligent woman who would be the best and truest friend you could wish for. Saudi men were just the same, observing the Sharia law in public, as they must, but warm and friendly in private.
I will never be able to go back to Saudi Arabia. The country is not open to tourists and, as a widow, I would never be granted a visa. I'm sad about that because I would like to renew some old friendships. Maybe one day, perhaps in my grandchildren's time, things may be different. I hope so.
Whenever we have evenings like this my thoughts go back 20 years to my time in Saudi Arabia. We would often go shopping at this time of night, the shops were open until after midnight, and would stop at roadside stalls for a pint of freshly sqeezed orange juice. The vendors would take half a dozen large oranges and hand-squeeze them into a paper cup. The cost - about 10p.
Saudi is an oppressive régime, without doubt, but I found much there that I liked. The city of Riyadh is beautiful. There is very little there that is more than 50 years old and it has been built with care and with great attention to detail. The shopping malls are well designed and full of expensive but attractive merchandise. You can find restaurants of almost every nationality and the food is so good. We used to go, often, to a Fillipino restaurant where the waiter would always explain every item on the menu. There was a fish I had, regularly, that looked like a kipper but tasted divine and I have no idea what it was. He would never tell us what no. 23 was, though, and used to say, "English don't like that". It wasn't difficult to guess that it had 4 legs and a waggy tail.
I wasn't allowed to drive in Saudi, though I drove "off road" in the desert. I couldn't go out without covering my arms and legs either and I couldn't go out at all unless accompanied by my husband. In the compound where we lived, however, I spent my days sunbathing in a bikini and swimming in the pool.
A couple of times we went to the camel market about a mile outside the city. Imagine a flat, sandy landscape divided up into corales with fence-pales and wire, In each corale there are about 30 camels, dromedaries - they only have 1 hump - and there must be 1000 of them all together. Little Arab boys wander around, herding the camels, and grin at you when you take their photograph. They are usually Bedouins who no longer live in tents but in luxurious camper-vans.
In the city there were the sukhs - the markets. Outside the gates you would be inspected by the Mullahs, religious police, and if you weren't dressed appropriately they wouldn't let you in. Once inside you were met with an Aladdin's cave of gold and gems. Market stalls had their walls lined with gold chains and intricately worked jewellery. Half a wallful would keep you in luxury for the rest of your life. You want silk for a dress? Hundreds of colours and designs and they would make the dress for you in 24 hours.
The Saudi women were veiled from head to toe - in public. Their faces were completely covered, not even a slit for the eyes. Under the veils, though, were carefully made-up faces and under the abayah (the long black cloak) would often be designer clothes. If you got to know a Saudi woman, as I did, you knew a beautiful, intelligent woman who would be the best and truest friend you could wish for. Saudi men were just the same, observing the Sharia law in public, as they must, but warm and friendly in private.
I will never be able to go back to Saudi Arabia. The country is not open to tourists and, as a widow, I would never be granted a visa. I'm sad about that because I would like to renew some old friendships. Maybe one day, perhaps in my grandchildren's time, things may be different. I hope so.
