Air Force Dining Out- September 2012

Spencer and I went to the Dining Out of the Air Force.  It is Air Force’s equivalent to the Balls that other forces hold.  I have to mention that they are not as fancy.  It is more for the Air Force members to put their faces out there and make a good impression upon their superiors.  We sat next to Spencer’s tennis buddy, whom I won’t name per his request.  I won’t even post a picture of our table for his sake. 

The last event I went to was in DC in some significant building, but this was just in the ECC, that place where we frequently go out to eat for lunches and dinners.   

I spent the previous weeks looking frantically for a dress to wear.  I bought two dresses at the time, one I wore to the wedding I attended and the other to save for this occasion.  I have to mention that it is difficult to find something long enough, with sleeves.  It is such a struggle! 

The evening was formal with the presenting the flag, national anthem, and talking about the empty table set for the fallen soldier which I find quite touching and sad.  During that presentation one man openly wept.  He must have lost some close to him.   Because of recent events, the poorly made film of the prophet Mohamed and repercussions in the nearby Islamic countries, our guest speaker did not come.  Rather we had one of the Leaders of the base speak.

 (Side note:  Saudi did not have riots, no one even really spoke of it except amongst the workers.  It was upsetting to us all that offense would be taken on such a poorly made film and by an Egyptian American.  A few weeks after later, during one really frustrating day at work one nurse speaking of the mentality and attitude of the locals asked me what year it was on the Islamic calendar. I responded 1433. She then said forgive the people here for their rudeness, insolent and primitive behaviors they are a few hundred years behind.  I had to laugh, but truth be told the behavior of families and patients here is astounding. I am not your servant, don’t demand and speak down to me.  An example of what I deal with regularly, when a patient has a resistant strain of organism it is protocol that a specific form of isolation be enforced to maintain and not pass the organism around.  Sometimes we have to wear a yellow gown; and washing hands upon entering and existing is normal procedure but here asking them to wear a yellow gown is like asking them for their first born child. I repeatedly ask them and they just stare at me, few respond ‘okay, okay’ and never do it.  A few have complained that it makes their hands sweaty, or it is hot.  But for the women they wear an abaya over their clothes anyway so what would a yellow gown matter).  

Then Spencer and I made out way up to the dance floor.   We had a good time but I wasn’t excited about dancing the night away.    I enjoyed dancing with Spencer, it was fun.  We haven’t had a chance to dance together previously.    

It was fun night to do something other than the normal evening.  I rarely wear make-up and do my hair. This event gave me reason to look beautiful for my husband.  Sometimes if we go out to the city, I wear the abaya, and little else.  

Schwetchen Knodel

We went to the Rabbi Veggie Market and bought ourselves a little garden. Most things at the market are sold in bundles.  You can’t pick the pieces but bundles.  So we had tons of veggies. The unfortunate and part we found disappointing was that it wasn’t very fresh, and the produce began to go bad quickly.  The Fruit and Veggies are separated.  The veggies, have eggplant, zucchini, tomatoes, potatoes, peppers of all colors and spicy, carrots, cabbage, cucumbers, butternut squash, as well as other random squash.  Fruit market, has more variety than veggies but lots of apples, bananas, pomegranate, melons and fewer selection of kiwi, plums, pineapple, mango.  I happened to find apricots and thought about the usual knodel that I was missing out on at home, a family tradition, so I snatched up these little apricots to make knodel myself.  Although, growing up we had Italian Plums or prunes and not apricots. Knodel is a dumpling.  This particular one made with potato dough, rolled around fruit in this case Apricot, boiled, and served with buttered bread crumbs and sugar.  Delicious!

I didn’t have the exact recipe with me and my dad when I emailed him couldn’t remember and didn’t have the recipe either.  I did a search online and found a similar one.  I think it turned out fantastic. It was Spencer first experience with knodel.  Although he thought they were good, he said it is sweet like a dessert, and if I was going to pick a dessert this would not be what I would choose.  Well, it isn’t going to stop me from making it and keeping my tradition.

Red Sands/ Graffiti Wall Trip

Spencer agreed to take a day trip out of Riyadh even though we couldn’t find one of the few of our friends to join us from Eskan.   I had made copies from the library on the compound of things to visit and do around Riyadh.  I thought I had the directions I needed to get to the Graffiti Rock, basically ancient pictures drawn on a wall.  But even spending an hour looking at the map prior to heading out we couldn’t exactly pin where it wanted us to drive once we reached a certain point.  When we left we only had a part of the directions and we thought we could figure out the rest when the time came.

The nice part of the day was driving along the red sands outside of Riyadh, than the vast ugly brown we usually see.  We drove down through steep canyon-like walls into the desert escarpment and we could see the red sands run through the valley below.

During our drive we happened to see truck with a make-shift safety belt for the goat that was in the cab. Spencer and I got a good laugh at the sight of the bahing goat with its own safety belt.

At this point we reached a village on our directions and from there we didn’t know where to go.  We took various roads hoping that something might lead us to where we needed to go.  But nothing. Then I got on Spencer’s phone to see if something online would have directions.  I found something that gave me GPS coordinates!  I thought the struggle was over, and we headed, filled with hope, to this directions. I might add that having a GPS has been a life saver for us and has enabled us go to various places. 

What was going to be a 3 hour short trip ended up taking all day. We didn’t get home until about 5 in the afternoon.  To make a long story short, the GPS coordinates I found online were wrong.  That extra 2.5 hours we spent in the car was pointless.  This is what we found at our destination: a group of white camels.

We drove around so long that the petrol tank was low, we stopped for the first time outside of Eskan to fill up our tank.  Spencer drives a Toyota SUV and we probably filled up 15 gallons or more and paid approximately $8.  It is true that gasoline is cheaper than water here. Amazing. No wonder so many people can afford to drive.

The sun to our backs on the way home cast great shadows.

The Saudi flags are up for Saudi Arabia's National Day

Cool building at the checkpoint

I felt so bad for Spencer who had to drive the whole way.   We decided that next time we need to do our research prior to heading out and make sure we know where we are going.  We were both hungry, tired, and restless.

Would you like a Date?
I learned since being in Saudi Arabia that I do not like fresh ripe dates like these:

They have a very bizarre texture and leave a filmy aftertaste in your mouth that isn't sweet.


But what I've always known is I like dates like this:

Well, I been given fresh dates, yucky, so I decided to leave them out to dry and see if it is that easy to get a delicious date.  I am getting close but it takes a while, that may be because I have left them on the shelf and not out in the sun.  I am afraid of what creatures might indulge themselves.

I've been told that Saudi Arabia has the best variety of dates.  I don't really know what to believe since it comes from the mouth of Saudi's, and from their own farms.  But I have received several varieties of dates.  I was also told that they are very nutritious and when you aren't really hunger just eat some dates and fresh Laban (which would be like buttermilk) to make yourself a very healthy and tasty meal.  Hmmm...not so sure.

Ablutions

I’ve heard a few people make comments about how disgusting the public bathrooms are around here.  I was out at IKEA when I first came here, I had mentioned that previously but this event wasn’t noteworthy at the time.  We arrived there slightly before asr, or afternoon prayer.  (The names of the prayer are ‘fair’ near dawn, ‘dhuhr’ close to midday, ‘asr’ in the afternoon, ‘maghrib’ just after sunset, and ‘isha’ around nightfall).  During special times of the year there is an additional prayer at the end of the day combined with isha making it exceptional long, and planning to go out before 10pm would be pointless.  Anyway, Sergeant Falcon left to use the bathroom before we sat down to eat, but came back saying it was crowded and dirty. The men were washing to head, hands, and feet or performing their ablutions before saying their prayers.  Can you imagine what any public bathroom would look like if you had people washing their dusty feet in the sinks?  Not sanitary, and very filthy.  I hadn’t experienced that, because the women aren’t required to pray like the men.  (As if women don’t have a relationship with God or something, not sure why it is obligatory for men but not women).

 Recently at work I went to use the public bathroom quickly for a bit more privacy (our employee bathroom also happens to be our locker room and a bit cramped which gives little or no privacy if you really have to do your business).  When I walked in the bathroom the floor was glistening from the reflection of light on the water all over the floor.  At first I thought someone had flooded the toilet but they were all working. Then it finally dawned on me, there was a women’s mosque in the hospital near to this bathroom.  Yep, I had become a victim to the ablutions mess finally.  I tip-toed across the wet floor to use the toilet.  Not only was the floor all wet but the room was exceptional humid.  Things like bathrooms, elevators, stairwells don’t get circulation or air conditioning like the rest of the buildings.  I found that to be accurate in the numerous stores, buildings in which I have used their facilities.  This can be a bit uncomfortable considering the temperature at which they can rise. I think maybe it would be in the best interest of Saudi, as it is claiming not to be 3^rd World, to designate a specific basin near to the floor, and maybe it own cubicle where people can perform their ablutions instead of making a mess of all the bathrooms.  I am just saying.

Although the pictures below you can not see the wet floor, I have a photo-less blog at this point so I just added the pictures I took from Spencer's iphone.  I wish I could have captures it better

Ladies Tea September 5^th

I am hardly good with names and when it comes to my patients I use their medical record numbers or their room numbers. A name like Mohammed and Faisal are quite common that by using just first names we would easily be mixed up but then you combine their other 4 names and get really confused because you can’t pronounce them.  So I justify my lack of recognition to the lack of variation.  I am prefacing my very bad use of names in this story I am about to tell.

I was at work and had received a missed call.  Most of the time I leave my phone at my home, which is a 6 minute walk from my job, another justification.  Well, I brought it today because the bike lock Spencer ordered finally arrived, which is what was holding me back from taking up a more permanent residence with Spencer.  Yes, we live separate in case I hadn’t mentioned or made that clear earlier and what is worse is for safety and security Spencer cannot drive off his compound without a companion.  I didn’t recognize the number so I called it back, which I don’t normally do.  It was Ali’s wife (I cannot recall her name even though she spelled it out to me later), and I also learned that Ali really isn’t Ali but Fahad. Well there you go, Fahad, Abdul… are all very common names.  She wanted to invite me over tonight for a light dinner with some of her friends.   I wanted to see Spencer but I thought this might be a fun experience and get to see more the home life of Saudi’s and get to know these women more.

I had my doubts about attending and asked several co-workers what they would do in my situation.  Maybe I didn’t give them complete information but even a Saudi Respiratory Therapy eavesdropping on the conversation chimed in saying she wouldn’t go.  It is a patient’s family, you don’t want to get yourself in a sticky situation, and/or give them the wrong impression since your husband isn’t invited.   At that point I wasn’t so sure.  I got home from work and called up Spencer to consult and get his opinion on what I should do in this situation.  We discussed it and decided this time.  I just felt maybe I was using them to get the insider view, which didn’t feel fair, because I didn’t feel I had much in common with them to have a true friendship.

I took a taxi there which was about 15/20 minutes one-way.  The taxi driver promised to pick me up at 10:15 about 1 hr and 45 minutes from when he dropped me off.  There was a ‘guard’ at the entrance that let me pass through the gated wall.  I was greeted by wife (I will call her that until I get clarification as to her name) and directed into the same sitting room by which I have a picture from a previous entry.  The coffee table had small bowls filled with an assortment of nuts, and one other woman was sitting there as well. She was Lebanese and taught French/English translation at the ‘Largest Women’s University’ in the world.  Which it most likely is the largest Women’s University and they probably have the largest men’s ONLY university as well, not many Universities segregate their students and would probably go bankrupt anywhere but in Saudi Arabia. 

Nouf entered the room, and chatted with Lebanon in Arabic. I listened to the garbled Arabic and couldn’t get a word out of it.  When you are learning a language people have to speak at a rate probably 10 times a slow as they normally would.  So maybe I just watched them converse as I popped the tasty nuts into my mouth. Wife came in and we chatted. She claims not to have good English and says Fahad and her brother’s make fun of her mistakes.  But I told her you have to keep talking even if it is hard, and you want to speak Arabic and everyone says something silly in another language when they are learning it.  As a matter of my own opinion she speaks English quite well, I mean she can understand and converse…that is huge. She is quite nice to me and I enjoy speaking with her.  They all appear a bit more normal and not so done up which is nice.  She talked about her farm, the animals, and camping out at the farm.  She said I would have to come with them.  I would love to see how they camp and see the farm and take a trip into the dessert with them.  Do the men ever get to come?  I know Spencer would love to experience some of this stuff.

That really was the course of the evening.  An Aunt, friend, and pregnant sister came eventually.  I worked up the gumption to ask Nouf it was culturally acceptable to get a tour of other’s homes.  Nouf said usually when they have a new house people given tours, so it is okay and she would give me a tour.  It seemed that Lebanon was also glad I spoke because she jumped up to join the tour and said she would like to come along.   We received a tour of the main/entrance floor only.  The upper floor was the families’ residence including their dining room, living rooms, and bedrooms. The lower floor was the servants’ quarters and the kitchen.  So my tour was the main floor only.  Men and Women have separate entrances to the house, and separate entertaining quarters.   This family rarely has men guests and Nouf demonstrated the fact when she patted the arm of the couch and dust billowed into the air.  I guess Fahad isn’t very sociable, at least in his own home.  The Women side is a large open spacious high ceiling entrance.  A beautiful spiral staircase was straight ahead leading to the family quarters.  The ceiling above the staircase was a huge-dome of stained glass.  From the entrance you have a sitting room, which is the room Spencer and I sat during my first visit. There is also a visitor’s room and bathroom nearby.  On the other side of the Entrance Hall is another living room which had long couches on the floor lining all the walls and a big mantle and fireplace at the far end. Nouf said when it gets cool they come into this room and drink warm drinks and have fires.   We walked through a hallway with doors on either side and a huge dining room which could probably sit over 20 people. These doors separated the men and the women’s house.  The men’s side also had a large entrance hall a sitting room of yellow hues, a study-like room, and a large green columned marble sink.  It would be the kind of bathroom you might find at an exclusive hotel or fancy restaurant.  The sink, walls and around the mirrors was all made from this green marble. It was stunning.

Back to the Purple sitting room, Arabic coffee, chocolates, and mint tea was passed around the room by the hired help.  Wife left and came back saying to me she knew I was going to leave early so she told the help to bring in the food early.  Eating at 10 o’clock isn’t early for me.   But it was a nice gesture.  There was an assortment of sandwiches, grilled eggplant hors d’oeurves, stuffed mushrooms, and stuffed grape-leaves.  It was all very nice.  When I was on my way out Nouf had said next week they are going to have a get-together outdoors.