CULTURE
Saudi Arabia: The Blog
By Stump Connolly and Maps Apley
PART ONE: Flying In
Maps
Thursday, Sep. 12, 2002
11:42:29 AM
Two weeks from today, we’re getting on an airplane and heading out for a whirlwind, three-week tour of the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. The purpose of our journey is to make a two-hour documentary special for A & E featuring our host, Bill Kurtis -- also known as “The Football.”
Here's a map with a rough estimate of where we're going to be and in what order.(Click HERE for a larger map.)
1. Riyadh
2. The Train to Dammam passing Hufhuf, the world's largest Oasis
3. Dammam/Dahran
4. Jubail
5. Somewhere in the desert
6. Jeddah
7. Yanbu
8. Madain Salih
9. Najran
10. Abha
And, then we go home. Simple, eh?
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Stump
Thursday, Sep. 12, 2002
3:54:22 PM
Maps --
I'm packing for the trip. Is it still true over there -- no white shoes after
Labor Day?
-- Stump
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Maps
Tuesday, September 17, 2002
2:15:39 PM
Stump--
I've been looking through a couple of Arabic dictionaries and have found a
few helpful phrases you might want to memorize:
Hi -- 'As-salaam Alaykum'
I can't speak Arabic -- 'ma aqdar atakalam Arabee'
I don't understand -- 'ma afham'
I'm really sorry -- 'aasef jeddan'
Can you help me? -- 'min faDlak, momken tosaAednee?'
There is something wrong with the engine -- 'fee khalal feel-moHarrek'
Do you do repairs? -- 'hal tosaleHoon sayaaraat?'
How long will it take? -- 'qad aysh waqt be-taakhoz?'
We're slightly behind schedule -- 'neHna mota'akhareen qaleelan'
I do not feel well -- 'ashAor be-taAb'
I feel dizzy -- 'ashAor be-dawkhah'
Excuse me, please -- 'min faDlak, law samaHt'
Thank you -- 'Shokran'
Good bye -- MaA as-salaamah'
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April
Thursday, September 19, 2002
3:45:50 PM
Other suggested phrases you should translate and memorize:
Where is the bathroom?
What are these red spots on my arm/leg/face/hoo-hah, etc?
How much does that cost?
I don't know nothin' about no alcohol, drugs, or women.
and the ever popular "What do you mean 'rabid?' "
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Stump
Thursday, September 19, 2002
8:50:46 PM
I called my dad last night to allay his fears about
our upcoming trip.
"Yeah, I'm thinking about taking my clubs and calling the show 'Golfing
Across Saudi Arabia'," I said.
"You're crazy. Don't take your clubs," he said. "Rent 'em."
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Stump
Wednesday, September 25, 2002
9:29:05 AM
Shopping For Arabia
Koop went shopping yesterday for a few Saudi "essentials" she thinks we ought to take along. Among the things she brought back:
* cotton balls
* make-up kit (two shades of blushes)
* snakebite medicine
* "Wet Ones"
* Imodium AD
* Nature Valley Banana Nut Granola Bars
* DEET mosquito spray
* Advil
Looks like we're in for a rockin' good time. Pass
the banana nut bars. I'm starving.
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April
Thursday, September 26, 2002
5:17:38 PM
The travelers have not yet unpacked their electronic communication devices (in fact, they have not yet unpacked their first package of airline peanuts), but Mitch has already given me the first report -- from the VIP lounge at O’Hare.
After a grueling 3 1/2 hours, our brave, valiant
travelers have made it through the harrowing customs line to reach the promised
land of the Air France gate. No incidents so far.
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Koop
Friday, September 27, 2002
11:18:06 AM
As I sit here at my computer in Chicago, it’s just after 11am on Friday, and I’m wondering: "Where are my travelers now?"
If all went well, they should have arrived in Riyadh an hour and a half ago. Perhaps they are talking to the lovely authorities in customs, verifying their equipment, their personal artifacts ... their identities. Or maybe (as my phone rings loudly) they are calling me right now!! Or maybe not.
Guys, please call me when you get in. And ask Greg and Joel if they are available to shoot stand-ups with Bill on Oct. 21?
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Stump
Friday, September 27, 2002
Somewhere Over Europe
Flying In
I am flying in to Riyadh on an Air France Airbus 320. Not a Concorde or a plush Boeing 747, this transport vehicle is the sardine can of the airline industry. Slim and fuel-efficient, the airbus holds 220 passengers packed in rows eight across, each passenger’s feet stacked under the seat ahead, offering all the amenities of your average luge sled. My seat dimensions measure 18 inches across and 24 inches deep -- seatback to seatback.
When my tray table is extended out for a meal, I cannot actually eat over my plate because of the reclined seat ahead of me. I am traveling for 17 hours in this position, partaking around the 16th hour in a video exercise class showing me how to rotate my feet and arms for relaxation, because the roundtrip fare for this journey of 14,000 miles is $1450 not the $2600 fee usually charged for a Chicago-to-Riyadh roundtrip.
In the heady days when the airline industry took off in the 1960’s, American airplane manufacturers fell all over themselves to produce bigger, more spacious, more luxurious airplanes. The Boeing 747 introduced in 1968 came with pre-packaged commercials touting a second level bar and lounge staffed by stewardesses asking passengers to “Just Fly Me.”
Then oil prices began to rise. In 1973, the Arab oil boycott started in response to the Egypt-Israeli War drove prices from $3 a barrel to $40 a barrel by the end of the decade. Most of the luxuries in the old 747 were stripped away in favor of seating. The average 747 today holds up to 500 passengers, but it still consumes a gallon of fuel per second. When it was introduced in 1981, the Airbus 320 took aim at its fuel economy target with dead accuracy. Like it’s namesake -- The Bus -- it gladly sacrificed comfort for utility and flies the same number of miles and passengers as the original 747 at 40% less cost per passenger.
What happened to the airline industry is happening to the rest of the world today, an ever-fiercer competition for a dwindling resource that is the lifeblood of industrial nations.
With 264 billion barrels of untapped oil under its desert sand, Saudi Arabia is the world’s largest oil nation. It has 26% of the world’s known oil reserves. Its neighbor Iraq is a distant second with 115 billion barrels, followed by Kuwait with 98 billion barrels and Iran with another 97 billion barrels. Add in the miscellaneous reserves of Bahrain, Qatar and the U.A.E and I am traveling to a part of the world with 65% of all the earth’s known oil deposits -- that we don’t know dick about.
The United States, by contrast, even if you add up the combined reserves of Texas, Oklahoma, Alaska and the offshore wells in the Gulf of Mexico, only accounts for 2.2% of the world’s supply. But we consume 20% of everything on the market, every day, about 20 million barrels a day.
Whatever President Bush may say about his desire to rein in the terrorists, extend democracy in the Middle East or rid the world of weapons of mass destruction, it’s hard to believe that preserving this vital link to the oil fields in not the central calculation in America’s Middle East policy.
And yet, what do we know about Saudi Arabia? After 9/11, everyone knows that 15 of the 19 hijackers who flew jets into the World Trade Center were Saudis. But where did they grow up, what schools did they attend, how do their tribal and religious beliefs shape the Saudi worldview? For most of the last quarter century, Saudi Arabia has been a closed society to the western media. Now we have a rare chance to peek under the burka.
My family is worried whether I will be safe in Saudi Arabia. So is the American TV network that is financing the program. Will you have security with you at all times, I have been asked. I don’t know. Do I need it?
The reporter in me says the story lies in following the oil. Oil is muscle in today’s economy. The price on the world market last week was $29.75 a barrel. But former Saudi oil minister Yamani warns that if the Arabs decide to stage another boycott in response to the U.S. policy on Israel that could easily go to $100 a barrel. A potential war with Iraq only compounds the issue.
It will be a tough story to dig out. It has taken nine months just to get permission to bring in a television crew. Who will we be allowed to talk to? What will we be allowed to shoot? And once the cameras are rolling, what the hell are we going to find out about a country more in control of our destiny than we are?
It’s going to be an interesting three weeks.
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Maps
Friday, September 27, 2002
3:58:34 PM
Chill, Koop!
We made it in fine. I would have contacted you sooner, but they’re having an Australia Night buffet here at the Al Khozama hotel so we went straight to the courtyard for prime rib and lobster, a nice array of pastas, Sushi cart and a killer dessert table . . . and I sort of forgot.
The only real excitement of the trip came at Charles de Gaulle airport in Paris when our bus dropped us off into the escalator to Hell. Passengers from various incoming flights converged at the top, but worse, a locked security door at the bottom created an even bigger bottleneck. Of course, yelling at the French in English got me little more than looks of scorn. So we just crawled over the other passengers into a back corner until a new bus arrived -- and the guards opened the door.
Stump’s been pretty nervous all the way over, being the producer. He carries the cash and the tickets. So once we are on the plane again for the last leg from Paris to Riyadh, Stump opens this little packet of accessories they give you that includes an eyeshade you can slip on to nap. "What is this?" Stump asks. "Bring your own blindfold?"
I see trouble ahead.
After another seven hours, we arrived. Two minders from the Ministry of Information -- Mohammed and Mohammed – met us at the gate and took us in to a special diplomatic lounge area, where we were served tea while they checked our papers.
All of our luggage has arrived -- except two bags which are apparently still in Paris. One has the tripod. The other has our back-up stash of videotape and batteries.
Now with full stomachs, the rest of the crew has
made its way to comfortable beds to sleep off the travel haze. And, I'm right
on their heels. But I thought you ought to know: we’re in.
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Koop
Friday, September 27, 2002
4:06:43 PM
Glad you made it. I am very happy to hear from
you.
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Maps
Saturday, September 28, 2002
5:08:34 PM
First
day of actual shooting today and overall it was a success.
Stump and I met with the big-pants guy at the Ministry of Information this morning. We sat around with this reporter from Japan -- now in his third week waiting for an interview with Crown Prince Abdullah -- drinking tea and listening to Al-Ateeq bitch about how all the TV crews -- Nightline, Frontline, Dateline, and some 300 others -- suddenly all want to come to Saudi Arabia.
Since we weren’t asking to see The Crown Prince, we got out of there in what must be a record hour and 45 minutes. Al-Ateeq seemed especially grateful for Stump’s Certificate of Appreciation, thanking him for contributing to a better understanding of our world, and wouldn’t let us leave without taking a picture. We went back out through the parking lot, with me thinking this whole thing would be a breeze.
That’s when Stump, in his excitement, pulled out the PD150 DVcam and began running it through its paces--right next to the front gate guard. With a gun in my ribs, we waited another 30 minutes while the guard called up to the Ministry to see whether he should shoot us. Stump was nonchalant. “Well, you have to know just how far you can go,” he said. The parking lot was not apparently on anyone’s top secret list because they let us go.
Most Saudis hide indoors between the noon and 3:30 prayers – when the temperature regularly exceeds 100 degrees -- so we decided to start our journey in the ancient ruins of Diryadh, the first home of the House of Saud on the outskirts of Riyadh.
Not
a bad set of ruins, as ruins go, dating back to the 1700’s when the
first permanent settlements were established in the desert. Because it is
also the first ancestral home of the Saud tribe, the government is making
Diryadh into a tourist attraction with a museum devoted to, you guessed it,
the history of the royal family.
Back in Riyadh, we went next to the two tallest structures in the city, both enormous shopping malls called The Faisaliah Center and The Kingdom Center.
Faisaliah was first, and we were struck by the
number of recognizable shops--Guess, Armani, Levis, Swatch, JC Penny's, McDonald's,
Dunkin Donuts and on and on. The view from the top of the building was astounding,
though the sunset, shrouded in flying sand dust, left a little to be desired.
The Kingdom Center is newer, bigger and even more spectacular inside and out.
It was there that we really became aware of the segregation of males and females
in this society.
Every restaurant not only has "single" and "family" sections, but separate windows to place food orders. Even the MacDonalds has a little wall perpendicular to the counter so the men can order on one side, while the women order on the other.
Nobody seems upset by this, and it actually seems to be a very efficient system. It's certainly interesting to see the way western influences are integrated into this culture, having a huge impact in some ways but not making a dent in others.
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Maps
Sunday, September 29, 2002
4:15:32 PM
Embassy Bingo.
Day Two. Driving around seems to consume most of our production day so far. With our two Ford Explorers, and two guides from the Ministry of Information, we make elaborate plans to get to our next location then spend hours driving around trying to find it.
Has anyone here ever heard of a map?
Yesterday, on our way to The King Faisal School, the Exeter of Saudi Arabia, we found ourselves circling around Riyadh in what is known as The Embassy District.
Ten years ago, this was another piece of nowhere in the vast nowhereness of a desert that surrounds Riyadh. Today, it is the new Palm Beach. Tree-lined boulevards lead from roundabout to roundabout connecting over 50 international embassies in a brand new “embassy district” that, for security purposes, can be sealed off in a Saudi minute.
The embassies rise from behind elaborate hedges, with angled walls designed to deflect terrorist attacks. And each roundabout houses a guard-station or security police car to monitor traffic in and out.
It was not always this way. After the bombing of the joint Saudi-American military operations center in Riyadh in 1995, and the tragic Al Khobar attack on a U.S. Residence hotel that killed 19 and injured 300 more, the United States decided it was wise to pull back on its public presence.
In 1998, the United States moved its main military operations to The Prince Sultan Airbase at Al Kharaj, a fenced-in base 70 kilometers south of Riyadh, and the Saudis created a new Embassy District for the American, British, French, Russian and other international embassies to work in a more secure environment. As a result, all the foreign embassy workers now live and work in this spectacular subdivision -- behind walls with no addresses or even street signs.
Looking for the Prince Faisal School, said to be just behind the American Embassy, our guides took us on an excursion we soon came to call Embassy Bingo.
We entered the district through a gate near the
Kuwait, Syrian and Egyptian embassies. We passed the French and British, spotted
a Turkish flag and thought we saw Japan – but the hedges were too high
to know for sure.
Making a turn at the next roundabout, we passed a United Nations mission,
then Ethiopia, and . . . once again . . . Kuwait.
“Bingo,” Joel shouted. “I feel like I’m in a bingo game where you see a flag you’ve seen before and make sure you’ve already checked it on your bingo card.”
We passed the United Nations Health Maintenance Center again – “I got this one twice. Do I get double points for that?” Greg asked.
After that, we just called traveling around The Embassy District “Embassy Bingo.”
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Stump
Sunday, September 29, 2002
8:44:35 PM
Magid
I found this guy at the front desk of the Al Khozama who’s really something. His name is Magid and, as far as I can tell, he’s a bellhop.
So anyway, I was standing around the desk tonight trying to get a couple cells phones with pre-paid phone cards. Mr. Sothie, the Indian concierge who can get anything for anybody, said he had no problem getting the phones, but, according to Saudi law, the GSM cards can only be purchased by a citizen with a valid Saudi Citizen ID. Even after 13 years in the kingdom, Mr. Sothie said, he could not get one.
Enter Magid.
“I have one,” Magid piped up from the back where he was sorting phone messages into keyboxes. “I can get you the phones for 500 riyals ($125) over on Al Keurezo street. And I can buy the GSM cards myself. How many minutes do you want?”
For the first time in three days, I felt like someone actually wanted to help me. A bellboy, sorting mail, not only understood the words, he understood the problem.
“You’ll do that?” I asked.
“No problem,” he said.
Heard that one before? Three hours later, I had the cell phones -- and my GSM phone cards. They were waiting for me in my keybox when I got home from dinner.
This Magid. Smart kid.
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Maps
Sunday, September 29, 2002
10:14:31 PM
Dinner with Al Malik
One of our goals here is to spend time in the homes of typical Saudi citizens without becoming the object of too much official attention. Tonight, we managed to accomplish the first half of our mission.
Before we left Chicago, we made the acquaintance of a member of Saudi Arabia’s consultative council, Saleh Al Malik. Al Malik happened to be in Chicago because his 15-year-old son, a boy with vast potential ahead of him, had suffered a debilitating sports injury. After seeking assistance at the finest institutions in Egypt and London, he brought his son to the world-renowned Rehabilitation Institute in Chicago and was living in an apartment here to watch over his progress.
His house is, in itself, something to behold: not one but two houses under one roof. There’s a living room, study, kitchen and reception hall on one side for the men, and pretty much the same arrangement on the other for the women.
Because Al Malik is worldly wise, an intellectual and a top official in the country’s only elective body, he mixed male and female guests freely. Although all of the women wore head coverings, none were veiled in the traditional abaya. The guest list was a carefully-selected mix of Saudi Arabia’s most progressive elements: two ministers in the King’s cabinet, three Islamic scholars from the university, the wife of the American ambassador, five or six other council representatives and a bunch of doctors, some medical and others in various fields, who seemed to constitute a Saudi intellectual elite. Who knew our old Michigan alum who exchanged high-fives with us in the Notre Dame football stadium was also a leading light in the new Saudi Arabia?
Stump made a speech. Then I made a speech. Stump’s was better. But he’s more lard than meat, if you know what I mean. Then we adjourned to the courtyard where Al Malik and his ten servants served a meal fit for a king.
I understand that the drinking of hot tea and hot coffee here is a traditional practice. The effect is supposed to lower your body temperature -- which is helpful in the desert. But it had the reverse effect on me -- compounded by the heavy jacket and tie I was wearing.
There's nothing like having a heart-to-heart with the leading member of the Saudi elite while you are drenched in sweat to remind you how much humility is a virtue.
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Maps
Sunday, September 29, 2002
11:35:12 PM
Funny story
On the way back to the hotel, Greg noted that the freeways, even at midnight, are jammed and Saudi drivers seemed to be passing us on all sides, including the shoulders.
“I guess that’s the beauty of three-lane expressways,” Greg says, “On a good night, you can use all five lanes.”
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Maps
Tuesday, October 1, 2002
1:05:26 AM
The Train to Damman
Miss
me? I missed you. By a day. My excuse? I was on a train . . . riding from
Riyadh in the center of Saudi Arabia to Damman, the major city on the eastern
Persian Gulf, across 350 miles of nothing known as “The Empty Quarter.”
The train itself was really cool. We shot out the caboose door leaving the station then, about 2 hours later, we passed an oncoming train and shot it heading off into the desert sunset. And Greg got to ride up in the front with the engineer... how cool is that?
When we got to Damman, we had an Iranian meal with our new minder, Monseur, from the Eastern Province Ministry of Information. Greg, Joel and I all had non-alcoholic Budweisers. Somehow in making non-alcoholic beer, Budweiser has managed to retain the delightful overtones of rice and hops from the original; but, no matter how you cut it, warm NA beer is NFG no matter how thirsty you are.
When Joel threatened to have a second glass Greg
warned him off. "Careful there. You might become a non-alcoholic."
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Stump
Tuesday, October 1, 2002
2:15:56 PM
Thoughts Along the Rail
It is often said that Saudi Arabia’s transportation system was built backwards. The first priority was airports. The second was freeways. Railways fell somewhere just below camel watering stations and above public buses. How nice it must be to start fresh with too much money.
As early as 1948, Saudi Arabia began investing in major airport facilities in its three major cities -- Dahran, Riyadh and Jeddah. These were followed quickly, as the oil money started coming in, by an inter-city highway system, then water and power lines, and finally a sort of inside-out rebuilding of the urban infrastructure.
Railways were, in the history of the Arabian peninsula, almost a tainted means of transportation. Everyone is familiar with Lawrence of Arabia and his western-style attempts in World War I to disrupt German operations by blowing up the only railway that ran along the Red Sea from Jeddah to the Mediterranean capitals of Beirut and Damascus.
The rail system that Lawrence blew up was built in 1906 by Jeddah merchants looking to market their goods to Europe. It was, at the time, the pride of Arabia, so the very fact Lawrence could convince local tribes in 1916 to dynamite its bridges and rails was a tribute to his leadership -- or their desperation.
What historians sometimes forget -- given that Saudi Arabia's history comes to us largely through Hollywood producers -- is that Lawrence’s fight against the Germans and their Turkish (Ottoman) allies was waged on behalf of the Hashimite tribes of Arabia (not the currently ruling Sauds.)
After the Germans were defeated in World War I, the Ottoman Empire shrunk back into Turkey; the Hashimites established their rule over some key regions in the middle east, notably Jordan and Syria; But in their own Arabian peninsula, the Hashimites would soon fall to the surging power of the House of Saud.
One reason we know so little about the Sauds is that they were not a force in World War I. Neither the Germans or the Allies were much inclined to march 1200 miles east from the Red Sea into the desert to conquer their piddling capital in Riyadh – or court the first modern Saudi leader, King Abdul Aziz ibn Saud.
But Abdul Aziz ibn Saud was a force to be reckoned with in The Middle East as far back as 1902. The son of a tribal leader from the feared Al Murrah tribe, he spent his youth exiled in what is now known as Kuwait after Ottomans expelled his father from the desert capital of Riyadh.
At the age of 22, ibn Saud returned to rally his Al Murrah cohorts to take back his kingdom. That was the year when, in the dead of night, he took back the capital of Riyadh by over-running a garrison of 50 Ottoman soldiers and slaughtering them with ruthless abandon.
Building on that victory, he spread his kingdom north and east. Sometimes by the sword, but just as often by marrying the daughters of rival chieftains (ibn Saud left over 60 heirs by more than 17 wives), he consolidated his control over most of the Arabian Peninsula.
It was not until 1926, however, when he finally conquered Hashimite provinces along the Red Sea – including the holy Muslim cities of Mecca and Medinah – that his control was complete. By 1932, ibn Saud felt confident enough of his power to declare the Arabian peninsula would henceforth be called “Saudi Arabia” and he should hereafter be known as The Protector of the Two Holy Mosques in Mecca and Medinah.
His timing was impeccable because a year later the Standard Oil Company of California would send over a representative to begin negotiations for an oil concession in the eastern provinces, a concession that would eventually lead to the discovery of 264 billion barrels of oil.
Tomorrow, we begin our exploration of the Eastern Provinces and the vast holdings of Saudi Aramco, the American oil consortium that Saudi Arabia nationalized in 1988, but continues to operate with substantial cooperation from the world’s largest oil companies.
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Stump
Tuesday, October 1, 2002
6:15:56 PM
Abdul Aziz’s Toy Train
As World War II was coming to an end, American President Franklin D. Roosevelt was so concerned about the fate of Saudi oil, he left the 1944 conference with Churchill and Stalin in Yalta and went immediately to the Red Sea to court ibn Saud’s favor. One of the results of the visit was ibn Saud’s only visit to the United States before his death.
Impressed by the slick design of the American Zephyr train that ran from Denver to San Francisco, ibn Saud decided in 1948 to purchase the train – not a replica but the whole train in toto -- and demanded that the Bechtel Company in San Francisco, then heavily involved in oil field development in the eastern provinces, divert enough resources to lay 300 miles of track across the desert so it would have a place to run.
In 1993, the old Zephyr train was replaced by more modern European rail cars. But today’s railcars run less than half full. Women sit in front in special “family sections”. Men sleep, snore or read newspapers in the back. There is no scenery to be seen. Vast stretches of sand leading to vast stretches of sand are all that can be seen out the window. But the good news is that, after the ride is over, a hotel room awaits in Damman.
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Maps
Tuesday, October 1, 2002
4:41:06 PM
Another Funny Story
It’s a little hard to get internet access here in Damman – even in a 5-star hotel. I’m sitting here at the desk of one A.K. Shabeer, the director of marketing, and one thing I can tell you: A.K. wears a ton of cologne.
I have a funny story to tell you from yesterday – or whenever that was. Time flies when you’re having a good time.
Anyway, before we got on the train, we went to see an American lawyer, Vern Cassin, who has been practicing law in Saudi Arabia for the last 20 years.
Stump and Greg went around about whether to use lights and why we still didn’t have a tripod – because Air France lost it in Paris. Eventually, they agreed on a shot. When our was over, Stump got it in the van, eager for someone to tell him what a good job he did.
“What’d ya think? Pretty great, all that realistic clutter in the background on his desk. What do you think?” Stump asked.
“Sure, Pops, everyone has their own aesthetic,” Greg said. “Maybe in your day, that natural look was in. Me. I’d throw him in front of a blue screen . . . and put a camel back there.”
From here on in, we’re calling Stump “Pops.”
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Maps
Tuesday, October 1, 2002
5:02:33 PM
Golfing through Arabia
Today was a blast. We started out at the Saudi Aramco headquarters in Dahran, home base for the largest oil operation in the world. With 75,000 employees, they are by far the largest employer in Saudi Arabia and keeper of what our guide, Samar Badawi, calls “The Crown Jewels of the Kingdom” -- its eastern province oil fields.
Touring
the facility meant traveling across hundreds of miles pocketed by oil derricks,
refineries, gas processing centers and storage tanks. At every highway juncture,
there were security stations. The security force, in fact, is the largest
component of the Aramco operation. As Badawi says, “All it takes is
one Scud in the wrong place and this is all gone.”
The furthest north point on our trip was Ras Tanura, the huge oil tanker port along the Persian Gulf. On the docks, two small foreign vessels were loading crude. In the distance, along a sea island, larger tankers -- the so-called ULCC’s (ultra-large crude carriers) -- are loaded every day with as much as 3 million barrels of crude oil apiece. If all the ports were operating at full steam, Badawi says they can load 21 tankers at a time. With the current OPEC limits, however, Saudi Arabia only ships 6-8 million barrels a day. Still in all, it’s mighty impressive.
We stopped for lunch at one of the Aramco compounds built in the 1950’s to house American workers when Standard Oil, Exxon and Texaco ran the oil fields. We could just as well have been in a suburb of Houston. Suburban tract housing, baseball diamonds, community bulletin boards announcing garden walks . . . and SUV’s in every driveway!
The American compound in Dahran, it turns out, is a perennial contender in the Little League World Series and placed 4th a few years ago. We watched as two coaches, one American, the other an American-trained doctor, put the boys through their paces. Then it was on to the golf course.
Golf
in Saudi Arabia? Yes, indeed. But with a twist. No grass. The fairways are
oil-slicked sand and the “greens” are a softer, white sand attended
by Pakistani caddies who sweep the greens smooth after every foursome. Stump
and Greg, being golfers, were ecstatic.
“Set up over here, boys,” Pops said, then he ran off to get a few willing subjects to hit balls off the practice range. “That’s one bumper in the can,” Greg said, after we caught our man making a chip shot and 20-foot putt.
While I watched the American jets take off and land at the nearby Dahran military base, Stump and Greg went out to play a few holes -- and take pictures of themselves.
But my favorite picture of the day was on the docks at Ras Tanura under a sign that said, “Photography strictly prohibited.”
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Maps
Tuesday, October 1, 2002
10:32:12 PM
Tonight, we ended our day having dinner in the home of two doctors from the Saudi Aramco hospital, Dr. Abdul Razack Amir and his wife, Dr. Salwa Sheikh.
Stump has been working hard to get us into “average” Saudi homes. The Sheikh and The Amir are as average as our Saudi Aramco hosts could find. Both were born in Saudi Arabia and met while in medical school at King Abdul Aziz University in Jeddah. But each has spent a six-year residency in the United States -- paid for by Saudi Aramco -- and they have returned to Saudi Arabia with their four children to serve the required compensatory time, with free housing and private education thrown in as benefits.
They put on another great spread. Another lamb w/ head attached (that they catered in), multiple desserts and wonderful company. They wanted us to see their home, Dr. Sheikh said, because they felt “demonized” after September 11 and wanted to show everyone how much the same family life is in Saudi Arabia and America.
Dr. Sheikh answered all our questions . . . Does she drive? Only in the compound. Wear the veil? Yes, but she does not cover her face and hands. There is no required in the Quaran other than that women “veil.” She interprets that as dressing modestly.
Under the “customs” of Saudi Arabia, which date back to the origins of Wahhabism in 1730, women strictly interpret the veil requirement as wearing a black abaya, black face covering and sleeves that cover the hands. “But I don’t buy that,” Dr. Sheikh said. All Mohammed said was that women should protect themselves from lurid gazes of horny men.
Does Dr. Sheikh feel, as a professional mother
working in Saudi Arabia, she is treated as a second-class citizen? No. She
just feels overworked.
Stump kept asking them about Osama bin Laden and Iraq. They kept answering
with questions about America’s policy toward Palestine. I think we’re
going to hear about this a lot. As Dr. Amir said, “Palestine is at the
center of the heart of every Arab in the world.”
--------------
Maps
Wednesday, October 2, 2002
4:13:34 AM
Goodbye Eastern Province, Hello Riyadh
Yesterday was sort of a mixed bag. We woke up and drove an hour to a town called Jubail. It's the land of petrochemical processing and represents the new economy of Saudi Arabia. Picture Gary, Indiana, only a little cleaner and a lot hotter. Lots of big buildings and thousands of miles of pipes connecting everything to everything.
Stump seems to have had an epiphany in Jubail. I’ll let him tell you about it. Me? I don’t get it. What’s so great about pipes and computers?
Anyway, from there we drove to the new Dhahran airport an hour away from anything that looks like civilization. We cleared security then Greg took the PD-150 to shoot prayer hour in the airport. Until the security police shut him down, of course.
So far everything's going well. Except that my wisdom tooth has chosen this moment to emerge from my gums, smashing the rest of my teeth together in the most uncomfortable way imaginable. Let's hear it for Tylenol.
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to PART TWO: The Football Arrives.
