Part 4

I open my eyes at some point because somebody bangs a door outside in the corridor and makes a lot of noise. Since it’s pitch dark in the room, I don’t know whether it’s day or night. I reach out for my iPad to check on the time. It is morning, but I still feel tired. The images of the trip and of the first day in Arabia are buzzing in my mind and I fall asleep again.  

Anes said, that it is pointless to go out before 4pm on a Friday, because everything is shut. Friday is for the Islamic world, what Sunday is for us, the Christians, the westerners, the day of prayer. Every day, also on Fridays, people pray five times a day. To do that, you go to a nearby mosque on each prayer time for about fifteen minutes. On a Friday however, you spend most of the morning in a mosque and thus come out around 2pm. Then people head home for lunch and life begins slowly after 4pm until late into the night. Until recently, the weekend was in the Islamic world Thursday and Friday, but this has been changed to Friday and Saturday to have one more extra day to operate and trade with the western world and to make money transfers faster. The shops however, are open every day, even on a Friday, which is technically a Sunday. In some major European countries, would the unions go on a warpath because of that. Shop opening times are extremely long in Saudi Arabia. From sometime in the morning, depending on the type of business, until 11pm. They close only during prayer time and banks open even on Saturdays.

I’m not worried about missing out on anything and continue my blissful sleep. At some point the Muezzin starts with his call to prayer, the calling to gather at a mosque and about a quarter of an hour later the voice of the Imam is to be heard. Before every prayer time, the Muezzin calls the faithful from the minaret and about fifteen minutes later begins the Imam with his sermon. The sermon usually lasts about fifteen minutes. Except on Fridays, as it lasts for several hours. Each mosque is equipped with a sound system that would make music groups very envious. This way the nearby area can listen to the sermon, too.   

As the heady sermon comes to an end, I wake up. I grope for the light switch above the bed and get up. Only now I notice the sticker (photo gallery Riyadh) above the telly. Many years ago I read that the Muslims pray towards Mecca, that’s why there are such stickers, to let the believers know in which direction Mecca lies. I saw similar stickers at a factory tour through BMW and at Siemens where I once worked.

I go downstairs for breakfast and then outside to the street. The receptionist follows me and tries to brush up his English. We ask each other questions while he smokes a cigarette. On the other side of the street is the same picture as the previous day. People who jog, people who walk, among them many women. The air is clear and refreshingly cool and dry. Why is it so dry? I ask. Due to the desert, there’s virtually no humidity, he says. I notice on my hand, where the skin begins to crack. The receptionist conjures a hand crème from his pocket and hands it to me. I ask for a bank or an ATM, but he says that the area here is newly built, that’s why there is neither the one nor the other. Crap! I have to tell Anes later on that I need cash.  

I go for a little walk through the streets in the residential area and realise that a) the streets are very wide, b) there are no pavements, c) most houses have only ground and first floor and no further floors, but they are rather wide and long and have a wall around them and d) in front of the doors are luxury cars parked, many of which are not even locked. Also, I’ve noticed that the windows are small and that there are no balconies.

When I get lost again, I bump into the same children as the previous day. They call “Yunani!“ as soon as they see me and I’m more than happy to bump into them. I take out the hotel business card and they accompany me back to the entrance of the hotel.

A short time later Anes arrives. His wife is sitting on the passenger seat – fully veiled. That surprises me. I did not expect that he’d bring his wife with him, and did also not expect to see her fully veiled. We drive to the Kingdom Tower, an oversized bottle opener, probably the most famous in the world. Anes wants to show us the sunset from the top. But unfortunately, it will not come to that. We’re a bit late, there’s heavy traffic, find it difficult to find a parking space in the car park (no fees!!!!!) and when we’re finally in the building, in the shopping centre, it’s prayer time.  

We stroll around to kill some time. I look around very carefully and ask Anes many, many questions. He responds like a good boy. Again, much is wrong from what I’ve read before. One of them is that if you are in a store, you simply will not be served because all staff falls on the floor to pray. Excuse the expression, but that’s bullshit! When the Muezzin calls, all the people that are standing at the cash-out are served quickly and the rest will be asked to leave the premises. Since they know when prayer time is, they don’t wait until the Muezzin calls, but make an announcement and ask the people to come to the cash-out or exit the building. Then the shop shuts for half an hour. In case of violation, there are fines and possible licence revocation.  

Although prayer is prescribed by law, not all people pray. We see this in the shopping centre. Many people are waiting in front of closed doors for the shops to open again. But whoever wants to pray, can visit one of the numerous mosques that can be found every two blocks. There are simple smaller ones, and bigger chicer ones.

The fact that foreign women are not obliged to wear a headscarf and hide their face behind a veil, I’ve read this before and see it now live and in colour, is true. There are many foreign women who walk around dressed in an abaya, but without a headscarf or a veil. They attract attention immediately. I too attract attention, not because I’m not wearing the traditional dress called thobe, but because I’m taller than the Arabs, fair-skinned and blond. Somehow I feel like Sting next to Cheb Mami in the music video ‘Desert Rose’. That all Arab men walk around in a thobe is not entirely true. Many dress normally. Although foreign women must wear an abaya, foreign men needn’t wear a thobe. The Arabs are of the opinion that it looks ridiculous on foreigners.  

“Why is your wife fully veiled?” I ask. “Not to attract attention and to be stared at“ says Anes. He is right. Your look, so does mine, falls immediately on the foreigners, not on the Arab women who are dressed completely in black and hard to notice.

When prayer time is over, we line in a long queue to take the lift to the top. In the lift, women go to the rear and men to the front. Somewhere in the middle we have to change lift. There is a classy and expensive restaurant with stunning views over the city. We cross it and enjoy the view and have a look at the restaurant. There is also a very small mosque we visit and I am allowed to take some photographs. There is also a gallery with photos of the Kingdom Tower.  

Then we take the second lift and get off at a height of 300 metres. Before us stretches the bridge from side to side. On the bridge, everybody takes out his camera or mobile phone and takes many photos in every possible position and angle. How was that again with the prohibition of photography? Does not seem to apply. The entire city of Riyadh lies at our feet. On the roof of a hotel under us is a tennis court and next to it a football field. Fantastic! We missed the sunset unfortunately, but the view makes up for everything.  

When the stomach starts to growl, Anes drives us to a traditional Arabian restaurant. The building looks very chic from the outside, and even chicer from the inside. It’s a dream of 1001 nights! Since the restaurant is full, we have to wait. There are two possibilities: in front of us there are on the floor separate divided area in which we can sit, or left next to the entrance a coffee and tea room. We choose the latter. There we sit on the floor and order one tea and coffee after another. Costs nothing, both are delicious and there are also figs.

Sometime later a waiter calls us and leads us to a corridor in which there are booths of curtains. The waiter takes a curtain aside, we take off our shoes and leave them outside and make ourselves comfortable on the floor. There are plenty of pillows to lean on. When the food comes and the waiter has led out everything on the floor, and closes the curtain behind him, Anes’ wife takes down her veil and a very cute face is revealed. Here I am reminded again how big the portions are. And again you eat with your hands. Because it is a little cool, the waiter brings us a portable gas heater. But before he comes in, he asks for permission and Anes’ wife covers her face again.

The restaurant has a courtyard, a ground and a first floor, a children's area with toys, various traditional objects and many plants. In the loo, I meet again the “gentle Arab toilet paper” as one of my best friends calls it. I have to become friends with the jet on the wall.

When we finish eating and are about to leave, comes the waiter again with a smoking box in his hands. You have to wave the smoke that smells wonderfully towards your clothes. Should bring luck and keep away the evil spirits.

Anes drives us a little through the night and we listen to Arabic music on the radio as we drive through the city centre and then to the hotel.

With all these scents, flavours, tastes, images and the smoke from the box still in my nose I glide slowly into the realm of Morpheus.

This blog is available on Amazon:
Theo of Arabia ebook
Theo of Arabia paperback