Part 12.2

Since I’m walking alone today, I take the time to have a closer look at where I’m passing by. The two Pakistani colleagues were a little too fast on the first walk and didn’t wait for me when I wanted to take a photograph or look at something more closely and I had to run in order to catch them.

After the street with the stylish lampposts and the waiting men, I pass two schools. My colleagues have told me that they are schools. I wouldn’t have guessed it and I don’t understand the signs on the walls. A boy and a girls’ school. Not quite side by side, by fairly close to each other. As you can see on the photo, the school looks more like a prison, a ministry or military building. Anything other than a school. There’s a lodge and you have to pass a control and inspection before you’re allowed in. Just like in the military. In the girls’ school next door, the security precautions are even tighter. The building is built in a way, that you can’t see anything from outside. As a man you’re not allowed in, not even as a father. Only mothers and women are allowed to enter.

A couple of blocks later comes a very wide street on the left hand side. This is the streets that runs transversely through the centre of Ar’ar. At the very beginning it’s extremely wide and is adorned by trees and green and an orange bridge, then it becomes somewhat narrower and has shops on both sides. Of the few people on the street, I don’t see anybody going over the bridge. When I climb up the stairs, two men look at me with interest. When I reach the top of the stairs and see the bridge in front of me, I can see litter on the bridge. Now I start to believe that really no one uses it. I take a few photos from up there, since the view is quite nice.

I continue my walk into the centre. I pass various shops. A few cafés, a few hairdressers’ and barbers’ shops, fast food shops, a building site on which the sign of soon-to-open gym is already installed, many perfume shops, men clothing stores, watch- and (sun) glasses shops, the restaurant Safa, which I pay a visit again.

The staff greet me friendly and I greet back. Ordering food takes a little longer and is more difficult today – the two Pakistani colleagues know at least a few words of Arabic, I on the other hand can’t even say ‘hello’. Well, me and the waiter use our hands and feet and manage to understand each other and I get what I want to eat. I go over to the tea master, watch him preparing tea and drink a cup with him. Then I go to wash my hands before I sit down at the table to eat. Not only in this part of the world, but in the largest part, people use their hands and fingers instead of cutlery. Cutlery is rare. If you ask for it, you’ll get some plastic one. Therefore there are everywhere washing facilities, where you find warm water, soap and paper tissues or dryers.

While I’m enjoying my dinner or late lunch, I look around me at the people coming and going. The restaurant is slowly becoming more crowded. When I’m almost done with my meal, four women come into the restaurant. That baffles me though. Why? It’s normal, isn’t it? Rather not. Well, how can I explain it? It is as if four smoker would march into a pub or restaurant where smoking is strictly forbidden and would light up cigars or roll some cigarettes. Blimey!

Since in Saudi the sexes don’t mix, there’s everything twice (schools, universities, etc.). Or separate rooms like in restaurants in our country – smokers and non-smokers. Here it’s divided for men and families. In the mosques, restaurants, banks, etc, there’s always a separate entrance for women and/or families. Sometimes there’s only one entrance, but inside there are different rooms or spaces. In addition to that, there are banks that have branches for women only. There are restaurants and cafés that are frequented by men only. I thought Safa was such a restaurant.

The women go to the counter and converse naturally with the waiter and then sit down at a table by the window. No one seems to be interested, no one looks or stares at them, no one shows any intention to send them away and no one says anything when they take down their veils to eat.

Before I came to Saudi I read in various Blogs, reports and books that the men would make a revolt in such a situation. Thank God nothing is happening here. I take the side exit and go outside. Then I drift along the streets of the centre and have a closer look at the various buildings. I take some photographs from time to time. A few kids stop and look at me. When I look back and smile at them, they run away laughing. There are no tall buildings. A maximum of two floors. But what strikes me is the age and the condition of the buildings. They look a bit shabby and run down. I walk through the mobile shop street, then through the men’s clothing street, etc. At some point I change the side of the road and go to the other side of the main road that goes through the centre. There I see more shops and restaurants. When I turn somewhere, the pictures changes. Suddenly there are couples and families on the streets and shops with toys, women’s clothing, etc. Also the roads are in a better condition and generally everything looks more beautiful. I then pass a square. This square is a pedestrian are, probably the only one in the entire city and it is adorned with trees and benches. The display of a perfume shop draws me like a magnet and I lose myself in the endless range of perfumes. When I turn around, I see a few yards away, a group of women sitting on a bench, looking at me and giggling.

I walk across the square and reach the main road. Barely there, a car stops in front of me. One of the windows go down and one of the young men sitting inside the car shouts: “Hey teacher! Where are you going?”

“Home” I reply.

„Come on, get in the car, we drive you!“

That’s convenient I think to myself. I have been walking for several hours and from here it would be an hour’s walk to reach home. So I voluntarily climb into the Mercedes ML and let me be driven home.

In the car pictures are taken, some of me alone and some of me with them together and I’m being asked where I’ve been and what I’ve seen and if I liked it. Not even two days later, everyone knows everything at the polytechnic and photographs of me are on various mobiles and have already made their round on Instagram.

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