Al Bahah

After many long and partially painful deliberations my german friends decided it best to leave for Germany. So nearly 4 weeks ago now they took a flight organised by the Austrian embassy from Jeddah. For me flying anywhere is unfortunately not an option: Europe doesn't allow me in as I neither have an European passport nor a residency Permit. Back to Australia is not an option due to the quarantine restrictions for dogs. I cannot import a dog from Saudi full stop. I have to bring him in from a third country but all borders are closed.
So I have to stay behind.
I wave them off early morning in the 22nd April. Black Wednesday!! It was so hard to see them go, leaving me behind!!!
So for the last nearly 4 weeks I have been by myself. Kept myself busy, had still a myriad of car repairs to complete, some more successful than others. That it is Ramadan does't help, people are tired, hungry, don't feel like it. The biggest job is my damaged crankshaft or parts thereof. Communication is of course a big problem. They cannot get the parts in all of Saudi, due to Corona they cannot order from abroad. My car is gone for a few days, which is quite hard, Rex and I miss Lola, and strangely enough, even though you think you are well prepared you always forget to take some essentials out of the car. I mean, she is my house, right?
When I go to pick her up, thinking they could not repair it, they tell me they have welded it all back together. The noise is gone, everything working and no Rial paid!!! Good on you guys!! Thanks so much!!
But there is still another big unresolved problem looming: a slipping"clutch". After a lot of deliberation, discussion with friends, by coincident I drop into a garage who specialises in gearboxes. The mechanic checks it out and his verdict is gearbox damage. I had feared that, so it didn't come as a big surprise. But here as well again, no parts in Saudi and no parts can be ordered in. Bugger!
In the mean time I am keeping busy, doing some other repairs, sewing, cleaning, washing, some gardening, the usual stuff, but unfortunately my neighbours and the gardener are thinking I am lonely and bored and being Arabs, being hospitable as they are, they cannot help themselves, and beleager me with invitations for dinner. That it is Ramadan doesn't help, I cannot go quickly for an afternoon tea, as they fast, and it is horrible for them not to be able to spoil me. UnsuccessfulIy I am trying hard to defend myself from too much neighborly love.
To make matters worse, I get smack in the middle of some neighbourly dispute. The gardener tells me, the other men was no good, ("Filistin! Filistinn!" Later I had to read up in google, i knew the Filistins were mentioned in the Bible; they are the modern day Palestinians) I should not let them in the garden. No good man. Not talk to him. So what am I to do?? Well, I can say I am sick, headache or something else.
I am unable to fully follow his recommendations, I mean, he just rocks up at the gate, brings food his wife has prepared etc. So I receive an email from my host telling me to keep my distance, not to let anyone in. They are worried about my safety. I was kind of set back to my teenage years! But, I am the guest , so no more open gate for this fellow and his family.
The gardeners family is really very lovely, but no word English is spoken, and as hard as I may try, my Arabic doesn't really stick, so our conversations are quite limited. Even though Awais has a cunning ability to mimic what he wants to express the conversation is exhausting. I am really sorry to say this, but I prefer to have my dinner by myself. At least most of the time.
But then workshops and waiting for my car to be repared introduces me to mainly young men who speak English. This gives me some time of verbal exchange, time with their families and I have their support when I AGAIN, run into problems.
But all of this is starting to grind me down. I am longing for conversations with friends, with people who know me, for whom I am not this exotic lady, but just me. I am longing to talk to people who I know, who at least have the same cultural background. Where I don't need to ponder, can I do this, can I say that, how shall I interpret that situation? When after dinner on my way out the door, the Lady of the house presses a 100 Rial note, around $40 in my hand, I resist and put it back into her pocket just to find this money in my bag when I get home. What am I going to make out of this? When I give it back to her, is this a great offence? Why is she doing this? What does it mean? How am I going to deal with this? Why are they not eating the food I bring over? Lots of questions and insecurities that under different circumstances would be very interesting but now are mainly tiring.
We people stranded in Saud have founded a WhatsApp support group. Only two of its members are still in the country. Apart from me a brave family with 3 children.
They are in Jeddah at the moment, just moved into a house in a compound with lots of expats. Would I have scoffed at the notion of moving in with a lot of foreigners like me instead of looking for contact with the locals, I am so starved for communication that I jump at Steffen's suggestions of getting a house for me there as well. Again, I never met this man, and he and the other Jeddah people are so helpful and supportive. The only problem I can see is a travel permit as travelbans still prevail due to Corona and that my car has the gearbox problem. So how to get there?
One of my Saudi contacts makes some enquiries. No problem, he says, the police will help. Yeah, but the car transport? Don't worry! This is what police is there for. But... Just go to the police!
So today I went into town to the police to get a travel permit to Jeddah. You can complete this permit application on line, but for one is it arabic, and two you need an Iqama number this is the national ID number. After some to and fro finally somebody arrived who speaks English. He is not one of the line police officers, but highly decorated. Still very young! And good looking!
He compliments me into his luxurious office. There I learn that he has been in Australia for one year, 10 years back. Lucky me! Well, I hope he has had a good time there! I need that now!
After some more nice small talk he starts completing the application, when he as well gets stuck on the Iqama number. But this problem can be solved as well, we just need to wait for the Captain. He will be there in an hour. So that I don't need to wait in the empty ante room, with possible strange men arriving which could make me feel uncomfortable, I am ushered into another big man's Office. I hope they don't forget me there. It's taking quite a long time, this hour. Enough to write this whole article so far. On the phone.
I'll send this off now, end of story to follow.Read more