Eating out and other Puzzles

During my first weeks in Saudi Arabia I was baffled how deserted towns and public places are.
Playgrounds were unattended—where were the children? And the women? I could not understand how, in such a wealthy country, all the shops seemed closed, no bazaars open, apart from the occasional shop here or there. Only larger supermarkets and petrol stations would be operating, unless it was prayer time. The five daily prayers are strictly observed, and during those times you must wait until the prayer is finished before continuing with your business.
During and after Covid, I learned and experienced many facets of Saudi life, and finally realised: there are people living in this country after all. They simply follow a different rhythm of life, dictated by the harsh environmental conditions.
I mostly camped in the desert, far from civilisation, beginning my daily travels around 10am and calling it a day between 4 and 5pm to ensure I found a night spot and walked the dog before darkness fell. Saudi life, however, follows a very different pattern. The day begins early, after the morning prayer at sunrise. Shops open, bakers sell their bread, children go to school, and people head to work. As temperatures climb to 50°C, the safest place is indoors. Saudi truly comes alive after the evening prayer at sunset. Roads, bazaars, and playgrounds fill with people, and life buzzes after the final prayer of the day, when night falls. With cooler temperatures, business continues without interruption, and shops remain open until 2am. When I needed a root canal in Riyadh, my appointment was at 10pm—I left around midnight. With my unusual traveller’s rhythm, I had completely misinterpreted the situation and missed out on all the action.
At first, I was annoyed when a car overtook me, then slowed down sharply, forcing me to overtake again, only for the game to repeat. Eventually, I realised they weren’t inattentive drivers or trying to irritate me. They wanted me to pull over, share coffee on the car bonnet, enjoy dates, or even invite me to their home.
While driving, I rarely feel like preparing lunch, so I often stop at one of the many Pakistani food stalls or restaurants offering delicious curries and local specialties. Yet the gender separation can make this tedious. Men sit in one area, usually overlooking the street where all the action happens, while women and families are ushered through separate entrances into family sections. There, each family sits in a cubicle where women can remove their niqabs and eat without being exposed to the gazes of men. Occasionally, I am allowed to eat in the men’s area—perhaps because I am such a novelty—but often room dividers are erected around me, or I am denied access altogether. My dining experience is therefore a matter of chance, and I often retreat to my trusty two-minute noodles before hitting the road again.
As a woman—and especially as a foreign woman—I never had to wait in queues. I would line up neatly, only to be ushered to the front and served immediately. That is something you can get used to!
Often, when I sat outside my van, people would drive past, park behind Lola, and honk their horn to signal they wanted to see me. At first, I found this annoying—why not get out of the car and come over? But I later learned the reason. It is not considered decent for a woman to be seen unveiled by a man. By parking behind my van, they gave me the opportunity to save face by putting on my headscarf before being seen.
Travelling—and especially my time in Saudi Arabia—is teaching me a valuable lesson: don’t be so judgmental. There is always a reason behind behaviours that may seem strange or difficult to comprehend. We Westerners often assume that our view of the world is the only correct one. Yet the more you are exposed to different perspectives and cultures, the more you realise there are countless ways a situation can be interpreted, a task completed, or social patterns understood.
If we could simply accept others for who they are, there would be far fewer conflicts. The world is a kaleidoscope of perspectives and traditions, and it is this diversity that makes our planet such a wonderful place.Read more