This piece is a reflection I did on a school trip to Saudi Arabia that occurred last year over Spring Break and I thought I would post it here as well:
I am not the typical world traveler. My greatest adventure, up until this trip, was a cross country journey from New York to Seattle, by train. I was 8 years old, and the beauty and majesty of the world that passed by my train window was something I thought could never be duplicated. The sheer fact that I was 3000 miles from my Brooklyn, New York home, on the West Coast of these United States, made me feel accomplished, and cool, in an 8 year old sort of way. I always thought that would be the farthest I would ever go from home; until I was chosen for the Saudi trip during my last Spring Break as a Lawrenceville student.
The trip had a lot of firsts for me. Before the trip even began I got my first passport, filled out my first visa and exchanged American currency for the first time. Just getting to Saudi itself had more firsts for me. My first time on a twin aisle jet, my first time on a flight over 6 hours, my first time flying over Europe and Africa, my first time seeing the Red Sea, my first time landing on foreign soil (which was the smoothest landing I’ve ever had), my first time using air stairs, my first time taking a bus to a terminal…the list keeps going. I was new to this entirely, so everything was something new to me.
Once we arrived at the terminal, we were greeted by Mr. Nazer and his men. They were all in thobes, and while I had seen them before in New York, there was something different about seeing them in their “natural” setting. Mr. Nazer especially impressed me; he seemed to command attention just in his presence. Walking through the airport behind him, and Lana who had dutifully attached herself to Daddy’s arm, I felt like a visiting dignitary being swept through by a top diplomat. With a word or two to the guards we bypassed a long line of people with green and blue passports waiting for entry. We only stopped to run our carryon luggage through a detector, and were promptly swept into three cars waiting on the curb.
I procured the front seat of Mr. Nazer’s Porsche Cayenne S and within 20 minutes of landing, we were weaving through traffic on wide boulevards lined with recognizable chains, and boutiques that would have easily melded into the upscale landscape of Midtown 5th Avenue. The car brands that whizzed by were all familiar, the Golden arches shone brightly in the Saudi morning sun, the palm trees that lined the big streets were perfectly in a row, and I had to ask myself ‘did I miss the flight and go home?’
Even now as I reflect back on the trip 10 months later, I cannot explain the feeling of familiarity that engulfed me as we drove down that boulevard. The signs may have been in Arabic, but from its typeface or from some other recognizable feature I could more or less tell which brand or store I was looking at. Now, after having completed one semester of Arabic, I can go back and look at the pictures I took and make word some of the words like “Mercury” and “Starbucks” and cross check myself to make sure I was correct in my assumptions 10 months ago.
Still as a think about the trip there were three aspects of Saudi life and culture that have stayed with me, life at the beach, the importance of the Muslim faith in everyday life and the hospitality of the people.
The first official day of our trip was spent at the private beach that the Nazer’s belong too. After everyone got settled in their rooms with their respective luggage, except mine which seemed to have gotten lost in translation back in New York, we got back into the cars to head to the beach. Being in a country that revolves around religious practices and rituals I assumed the beach would be a rather PG affair with old school swimsuits reminiscent of the ones I see in black and white photos from the 1920’s and 30’s. So when I exited the beach house and saw women in bikinis I almost felt disappointed, as if I once again hadn’t left the States at all. But then I came to grips with reality and realized that the time spent at this private beach was probably one of the few releases from the abayas, the thin robe like garment women must wear daily, that so often clothed them.
The wearing of the abaya of course is something related to Muslim tradition and law upon which Saudi Arabia is based. Coming from a society that professes to separate religion from the state, being in a place that freely combines the two can be a little unsettling at first. To have a sales transaction interrupted by a distant voice over a loudspeaker saying “Allah Akbar” or “God is Great” is not a concept I am used to. To then see the streets empty of people as they try to make their way to their respective masjids, or mosques, as you become one of a few people still standing once the prayer actually starts. As you look around you realize that not everyone has made it to masjid and instead those people descend as one to their knees and touch their heads to the ground. It is then that I began to realize that people were doing the same thing all over the world, and the thought utterly humbled me. In that moment I realized the importance of Islam, not just to Saudis, but to the Muslim community as a whole.
The last point that has stuck with me was the overall feeling of being welcomed and appreciated. Perhaps the best example that was the Nazers themselves, including Mr. Nazer’s brothers. The generosity to offer to us their homes, their beds, their food, all without asking us to help out in anyway than to just be on time wherever we went. To the whole Nazer family, especially Loay and Dina, we are all indebted. And yet the kindness did not stop once we left their compound. A Saudi Princess, presumably with the blessing of her father, allowed us into her world as we visited a family farm in the city of Ta’if. We were given a tour a state of the art hospital, a personal house turned into an elegant art museum, a modern home built in the classical style to allow for fresh air to circulate at will, and each person involved ushered as with the utmost grace, care and respect. The ability to open up one’s life to others is a quality that Saudis seem to exude.
If I could go back Saudi Arabia, I would in a heartbeat. I thoroughly enjoyed my time there and I feel that I learned so much, and yet I feel there is so much more to learn and experience. No matter how many, if any, times I get the chance to go back, I think I will always have a longing to know more. The Kingdom of Saudi Arabia is a special place steeped in a way of life very foreign to us Americans, perhaps that is what interests me so much.
