A Night At Abu Jifan Fort

Abu Jifan Fort came on to my radar earlier last year, in March to be exact, via a random conversation with a random person - there are a lot of random people in Saudi, so such conversations are not that surprising really.  He mentioned there was a fort down near Al Kharj, though he had no idea where.  So I turned to Google to see if, maybe, it was a known landmark, though not too hopeful of a result as Saudi was still largely under-mapped.  But to my surprise, there it was in the middle of the desert, literally, with no access to it at all.

A closer inspection of Google maps identified a road part way and a run of power lines passing nearby.  Where there are power lines there must be a track, of sorts.  So Hubster was advised to load the hired 4WD and some firewood while I stocked the chilly bin with food and the back seat with our sleeping bags because we intended to camp the night.

We drove down toward Al Kharj and turned eastwards after refuelling with gas. Having earlier identified two possible options for reaching our destination it was time to figure out which route would work best for us.  Waiting till we got closer to the desert to make this decision was done for two reasons.

One, given the amount of development that is taking place in this country, Google cannot always be completely relied on for route planning.  Sometimes you turn up and there's a road where the written instuctions say there shouldn't be.  Other times where there should be a road you actually find yourself at the edge of the desert with car tracks angling off in all directions into the distance.  It can be a bit freaky leaving the saftey of solid tarmac for the unkown desert.  Some days you turn up and find someone has built an apartment block.  Laying eyes is alwasys best when heading off exploring in Saudi, especially when you don't really know where you're going.

And Two, the man I married had, yet again, been paying absolutely no attention to any route suggestions I had been passing on to him previous to leaving home.  This fact was borne out when, as we passed through our compound gate he said, 'Which way?'  I sighed, somewhat exasperated, knowing it was going to be one of those days when he wasn't really looking forward to this trip, he was simply humouring me.  I also knew that if this fort visit turned out to be worthwhile, he'd be singng it's praises for weeks. My fingers were crossed for praise singing and my exasperation was put on the back burner as he was pointed in the right direction, but honestly, there are times when I think that if I didn't need him to drive, I wouldn't take him at all!

We decided sticking to the ashphalt for as long as possible was the best idea so headed off to the road with the power lines.  We followed that till it came to the end, then we were on our own.  The wadi that greeted us was a little rocky, and we set about finding a way through it in the general direction of the Fort.  This was definitely a four wheel drive expedition as the route became rougher the further we went and did not always follow an obviously marked trail - at least we couldn't find it.  Hubster had to get out of the vehicle a couple of times to assess whether we would make it over a rocky incline or two.  I was grateful he came along for some driving, when it comes to navigating through rough terrain he has more balls than me, (figuratively that is...OK, and literally).

We eventually came across a graded track of sorts that seemed to start in the middle of nowhere for no particular reason.  Although it was graded, it was also steep, narrow - the vehicle just fit through - and rock-strewn, so a bit of care was required as we wormed our way up it.

Once through this escarpment the land leveled out and was much easier to drive.  We checked our bearings and set off, once again, in the general direction of the fort.   Finding a relatively well used track we followed it and found ourselves at the base of some low lying hillocks with the depressions of old wells.  The faded track split in two and we decided to take the one that disappeared into a nearby wadi.  As we rounded the bend we were greeted by the sight of the fort sitting solitary above the wadi bed.

As we drove nearer we were quiet with our own thoughts - mostly questions on my part.  Why had the fort been abandoned? Who uses it now?  Who used it then?  What was it like to live here?

The afternoon was late and Hubster was hankering for food so we decided to set up a permanent camp in the wadi  near the wells and get a fire started with tea on the boil.  There was plenty of greenery (I prefer a bit of foliage for toileting purposes - we might be married but there are some things you just don't want to know, right?) and we could fossick for extra firewood.  Tomorrow we would get an early start to explore the fort.



Our camps are very basic setups.  Chairs to sit on, carpets to rest on and, later in the night, to spread our sleeping bags on and a fire to cook our steak over.  What more do you need?  As we don't own a tent, there is not much option for any other kind of set up.  We did try sleeping in the back of a vehicle once, but really, hailing from the 'a bit large' brigade, there is only room for one of us comfortably.

To make the ground more comfortable we also have an extra sleeping blanket that we lay on top of the carpets, under our sleeping bags.  To date we have not been hassled by dust storms, wildlife or rabid dogs, although we did find a scorpion nestled under our sleeping blanket once.  Hubster got such a shock he shooed it off quick smart into nearby desert grasses....I was like, 'What did you do that for? I wanted to take a photo of it'.  He realized that maybe he had over-reacted.  'We could go look for it', he says.  'Yeah right, lets search for a scared critter in long grass, away you go, mug' (Kiwi word for blockhead).  Mr Scorpion did not become photographic famous that day.

Word is that the name Abu Jifan refers to this very wadi, above which the fort sits, and the wells dug into it that have offered travellers a respite from the long days of traversing the desert in both Islamic and pre-Islamic periods.  The wells still have water in them today.

In 1864, foreign explorers wrote about two routes that passed by Abu Jifan -  one that connected Riyadh to Hofuf, a major east-west thoroughfare to the gulf apparently, and one that linked Wadi Dawasir and Sulayal to Hofuf.  It is possible there were more routes from this spot that locals used but were not confirmed by early European visitors, which sounds reasonable given it is thought that the wells date back to the Bronze Age, as judged, so I read, by the masonry lining them - which means the wells are quite old.

Rumour has it that when the modern Saudi Arabian road network was initially being drawn up there were plans to maintain this historic route as a main highway, so part the cutting we came up was one of the first pieces of road construction in Saudi Arabia.   But a change of plans meant that the road went nowhere near the fort, hence it sitting all alone in the middle of the desert.

From the main entrance the fort looked a little forlorn and worse for wear. The gate was broken, the old trespass sign was almost unreadable, though on the otherside of the driveway was what looked to be a perfectly new sign declaring Abu Jifan to be a palace.

An guard post and in the distance a lookout

View to the fort from a lookout, with a guard post visible in front of the fort.

The fort is not as old as the wells that serve it.  Apparently the official purpose of the fort was to protect the travel route, and remnants of old guard outposts can be found at each end of the track that runs in front of the fort, while further out are what appear to be lookout posts.  Before the discovery of oil, the only money coming in for the country was through charges to pilgrims and traveling caravans and, as this was a main route and watering hole to and from Mecca and the Gulf, it seems reasonable to build a collection point along it, though how long ago, and whether or not this fort was erected specifically for that purpose, I can't say.

I read somewhere that the fort was used in the 1950's by the National Guard, though I can't confirm that either.  About the only thing I do know is that the sign out front claims the fort was protected as an archeological site by which ever King was on the throne in 1972. Abu Jifan became famous in the history of modern Saudi because the original King, Abdulaziz, stopped at the wells on his way to Riyadh in 1902 to claim back his heritage.                                            

Abu Jifan is apparently admininstered by the Ministry of Antiquities and Museums who rebuilt it around 2007, presumably to be used as a tourist spot.  It has subsequently been abandoned for reasons unknown, which I have to say actually makes it look kind of cool for we romantics or highly imaginative types.  You know what I mean, imagine telling camp fire stories around a lonely, hard to reach abandoned fort next to ancient wells - the tales you could tell and the visions you could conjure up in the minds of the impressionable of camels and dust weary travelers, the sounds and the smells of pulling up water and setting up camp and preparing for battle - that kind of thing.

The visions that met us as we walked beneath the entry arch to the fort proper spoke of glorious plans that had come to a halt. Tagging decorated the walls and the doorways were dark, almost pleading to be lit up again with life and love.  We went from room to room wondering what it would have been like to be posted here.  The recent refurbhisment meant that along with the traditional fire hearth in each room, there were also power points.  The central courtyard is dominated by a concrete base that was obviously some unfinished designer vision.

The mosque with it's traditionally built ceiling was lit only by the sunlight as it half heartedly crossed the threshold through the door we had opened, preferring to shine its full brilliance outside.  Other people had obviously found the place quite intriguing and had stayed for a lengthy period judging by the cold ash of a fire in the middle of the mosque.

The silence at the fort was deafening as we looked out between the rooftop parapets to the wadi beyond.  I did wonder who will maintain this fort into the future.  Apart from the fact it doesn't seem to be a tourist stop, the skills required to upkeep an adobe structure are fast disappearing in this country as ongoing construction favours concrete.  Historic adobe buildings deteriorate - that is their nature.  The only blessing Saudi has is that it doesn't rain here much. But even slow decay will eventually lead to collapse for this abandoned palace unless there is a maintainence plan in place.

We left the fort to take a look at the surrounding hills and didn't have to go far to find what looked to be the remnants of an old village forged out of desert rocks.  The stones were piled into squares that could only be dwellings - in some it was easy to identify what appeared to be entry ways and fireplaces (to my non-archeologically trained, possibly imaginative eye).  We spent a bit of time pcituring how harsh it would have been living here.  Makes me glad of my brick and mortared home.  Oh the quandries of balancing the love of modern life with the desire to not forget history.

We spent a bit of time exploring the area and then it was time to figure out how to get home.  It is not necessary to retrace our steps driving out the way we came in.  This took a bit of explaining to The One Wth No Ears for reasons mentioned at the beginning of this post.  We headed toward the row of power lines and simply followed them all the way out to Khurais Road.  It was easy peesy.  I have to say, I'm glad we chose the exciting way in to Abu Jifan and, because it was getting late, I was just as grateful there was an easy way out.  And by the way, praise singing is long and loud when our trip to Abu Jifan is mentioned.

Location of Abu Jifan



For a little more detail:

Red is the way we went in, Blue is the way we came out.

I hope you enjoy your trek to Abu Jifan Fort if you chose to take it.



Ka Kite,
Kiwi

Please, Signpost The Toilets.

This post is a plea.
Someone, please, erect signage that indicates the existence and location of back street parks with  toilets in Riyadh.  Such signposts to be clearly visible, preferably, from the main roads.

I know there are a number of parks with toilets dotted about this city because I've cycled by, and utilised, a few of them on my morning bike rides.   Most are in OK condition for park toilets - as in, there is no toilet paper but the hoses work, the smell isn't too ripe, and they flush on completion of squat job.  Oh yes, they are all squat toilets, which doesn't bother me at all because when the urge strikes in the middle of the city I don't care what kind of toilet I'm in, just so long as I'm in one!

Lovely park.  Toilet in the back right corner.

Most toilets I've come across in the city center are open for use in the morning, however, let me just clarify that statement a little - the toilet marked "Mens" is usually open, the one marked "Womens" can sometimes be locked which is exasperating to say the least.  In such instances a few seconds can be wasted shaking, and, I admit, on bad days, kicking, at the door (with a curse word possibly hurled that way too) before I dash into the mens side where I release my issues to the drain.  Finding a toilet available is, as you can imagine, a great relief .   It has also proven a bit of a surprse to those wonderful men whose job it is to clean up Riyadh while the residents sleep -  women schreeching their bicycles to a halt outside park toilets is not a typical feature of the city's early morning landscape.

Mr Noor used to clue himself up on parks with toilets because he gets uncomfortable at the discomfort of we women who can often be caught desperately short of bathroom avaialability due to prayer time closing restaurants (the usual place to visit the loo) five times a day and Malls being just a tad too far away.

Mall toilets are the other favoured location for Dunny On The Run occasions in Riyadh but with the traffic often snarled and congested due to the Metro work going on these days, there is always a danger that the taxi will not reach a mall quickly enough - and trust me, that thought is absolutely horrifying .  And even when the taxi does get to a Mall, finding the toilet is another panicky dash through shiny hallways trying to find the convenience, which you can gaurantee is upstairs somewhere and nowhere near the Mall entrance.

Hotels in Riyadh have also proven helpful in providing easy access to a bathroom.  In fact, I have to say, that people in Riyadh seem to be generally more understanding of the human need to pee and go number twos than many places in the Western world.  I have run through a closed and darkened Mall on Riyadhs outskirts thanks to security understanding a convenience was required quick smart.  And I do appreciate that in Saudi Arabia you can rock up to a dining establishment just to use the loo, no questions asked.  Such is not the case in other parts of the world where lots of effort is made to not let people near the toilet.  There are the diners and gas stations where you need to get the guy behind the counter to give you a key ( and he almost always lookes harrassed and tosses the key in the general direction of outstretched hand), hotels where you need a swipe card to access toilets in the public areas or cafes, and diners where you are are simply told No, if you don't eat, sleep or otherwise contribute here, you don't toilet here - obviously all the above are rules made up by people who've never suffered the indignity of being caught short.  So big ups to you for being a lot more understanding Saudi Arabia.



There is always room for improvement though, case in point being that occasionally, when I can get the husband up early enough to join me because he's got to drive me there, I cycle along Wadi Hanifah.  So that said husband doesn't feel completely unhappy about his weekened sleep-in being cut short, we also take along coffee and a snack for a post ride picnic.  Our route generally ends at one of the park areas set up specifically for locals to enjoy their evening picnics.  And there-in lies the problem.  The toilets at these picnic sites don't usually open until 4pm, or so we have been told by the blokes cleaning up the rubbish strewn about the place by the previous nights desert revelers.  These same men also do not have a key to the toilets, so can't open them for morning cyclists on a toilet break.  So we early risers have to wander about till we can find suitable cover for toileting issues before 4pm which is not ideal because, on the weekends especially, other people start turning up to these sites just after midday prayer.  Empty space for defecation purposes gets hard to find once the masses begin to arrive, and you can gaurantee it's a good plan to watch where you're going, because someone else has already been.  If the hierarchy could give the cleaning crew a key or unlock these particlular toilets early, that would be much appreciated.



When I first started my early morning cycles around the city a few years back I relied on Google Maps to highlight the nearest green patch that may, or may not, indicate a park.  Not a highly reliable source I have to say, as Saudi seemed to have this aversion to being geo-located back then, so not all indicators were parks, not all such parks had toilets, and not all toilets were open.

Riyadh is much more on the map these days (thank goodness) but back then lack of a facility resulted in two things - firstly a furiously epic cycle to the next green patch indicated on Google Maps in the hope of better luck.  And two, I started plotting back street toilets on a Riyadh Toilets map on my phone.  My map has proven exremely useful over the years and as I continue to traipse the city it is always being added to.  Oft is the time I've considered turning it into an app.  I'd call it Oh Poop!

Toilet locating apps are not a new idea.  Browse through Google Play and you'll find plenty of dunny locating apps.  I've even downloaded a couple - and deleted them soon after.  They have, sadly, fallen short of useful information about the presence of toilets in Riyadh.  There is not much point telling me there are toilets at the gas station down the road when it is only for men, or of highlighting all the restauants in the vicinity, because at Salat they are closed.  Seriously.  Riyadh needs its own toilet app, specifically for Riyadhians.    I think other peeps whose muscular control of their nether regions for whatever reason, would love it.

Or, alternatively, please, whoever is in charge of signposting Riyadh, sign post the existence of parks with toilets.

Thank you.



Ka Kite,
Kiwi

Safe Havens and Semi-Adoptions.

Numerous cats hawk the streets of Riyadh and spill over into compounds.  And in every compound is someone who feeds the cats which is all well and good till That Someone leaves the compound and the cats come to the neighbours, or the cat averse new tenant, looking for their free meal of the day - then they can become annoying.  I have shooed away a cat or three from our doorstep toward the guy in a big villa on the corner who has a reputation for feeding strays because we aren't really cat lovers -  although I say that with a cat currently snoozing on the couch next to me.  I never thought the day would come when I would admit that we have, through cat stealth, semi-adopted one of Riyadh's strays.   This does not mean we have become cat lovers in the plural sense of 'cats', we are simply 'single cat' appreciators.

Every now and then, when cat numbers got a bit large and numerous cat fights or cat couplings, (which I learned from Miss Louise, a woman with a wealth of information, is a noisy affair), disturb residents' sleep, compound management would do a cat cull.   For some obscure reason security used to get tasked with the job of cat catching and could be spotted running around the coffee shop (because cats are naturally drawn to where the food is) with sacks.  They didn't look particularly happy about their job, I'm fairly certain cat scratches were many, but what can you do when the boss says cull time?

Suggestions from tenants that they get a net or a trap to make the job more effective and safe for all critters concerned fell on deaf ears because everybody is well aware that managment wouldn't actually spend a cent on proper equipment for this job!  If you live here just for a short while you quickly figure out that Saudi hierarchy are, by and large, cheapskates. (Actually, let me clarify - the Egyptian guy hired to oversee operations probably has a deal with the Indian bloke in charge of the books and together they figure out ways to skim money off the top, which doesn't really bother the Saudi owner provided lots of cash is still coming his way while all complaints are being curbed at the door by the Lebanese office bloke who is also on the take.  Which pretty much sums up the way the Arab world works, in this country anyways, and still makes the Saudi hierarchy cheapskates but with an added attitude of zero responsibility for anything - after all, it wasn't me, it was them!  Which all results in no left over cash for, or interest in, purchasing proper equipment for trivial things like cat trapping).

Rumour has it the captured critters were taken somewhere else (eg - to the desert) and let go.  Survival is then up to 'The One Who Knows All', you know, that big Kahuna who supposedly created everything.  Apparently the general consensus here in Saudi is that killing cats would make the The One very unhappy with humans but dumping furry creations in the desert where survival is questionable is perfectly OK.  It would be nice if cat culls happened in winter when the lowered desert temps gave the released felines a fighting chance, but in the past that was rarely the case on our compound.  Probably because much like people, cats like to be out and about on a balmy summer evening.

When a cat cull was underway it paid to keep your friendly cats locked up indoors so they weren't mistaken for cat riff raff and caught up in the cat crowd. (I had images of The Boy In The Striped Pajamas as I was typing that sentence - a fantastic, terrible movie!)

I'm speaking in past tense about Cat Culls because they used to happen on our compound before we found out about the Open Paws Trap, Neuter and Release program and informed management, which you can read about on my post Turf Wars - as with anything in Saudi, this was not a straight forward exercise!

Anyway, one warm summer evening soon after a cat cull we were moon bathing by the pool eating our dinner (we find the heat of a summer day far to hot to be lying by the pool, so wait till the sun has set to get comfy in the sun loungers), when this tiny ginger and white head peeped out from behind a sun lounger nearby.  It looked so forlorn.  And nervous.  And cautious.  Yet hunger was making it sit nearby where it could smell our roast chicken just waiting for a tidbit to drop to the ground. Obviously, we decided, its mother had been 'relocated' because she was nowhere to be seen and this kitten was very young.
It sat there. Silent. Wretched. Watching.
Hubster tossed a tidbit.

The kitten lifted its head.  Sniffed.  Looked at us looking at him.  Looked at the little piece of meat, then raced out grabbed it and scuttled back behind the chair.  It never made a sound but kept on peeking.  He eventually got another morsel which, I have to say, was a surprise.  The Hubster is not renowned in the family for his Cat Love.  But this little thing had struck a chord with his quiet, non-annoying, persistence.

The next night the kitten was back and he did the same thing.  Just lay behind the chair, watched, waited and eventually got rewarded.  The kitten must have followed us home because the next evening he was laying low in the impatiens plants beside our apartment door.  He looked so tiny peeping out from under his attempted camouflage.  "Look at that", I said to Hubster.  And we started putting a little plate out at night by the flower bed to feed the kitten.  We always watched him eat because although this kitten may have gotten under Hubsters tough Cat Armour, we had no intention of leaving food lying around for the rest of the felines hawking about the place.  Plus we didn't want one of the big boys coming along and beating this little guy up.  Once he was done our guard duty was over and the dish was removed.

Just to be clear - we only semi-adopted this kitten who we have called Cat because we aren't very imaginative and (quite frankly, it suits him) because we will not be taking him with us when we go and he has to learn to survive in Riyadh's Cat World without us.  To that end, we never feed cat a lot of food nor, since he has grown up quite a bit, do we put a bowl out for him every day.  "He's a stray" I would say, "and he needs to know how to fend for himself not rely on us because we often go away and one day we will leave".  So when we are in town he gets enough to keep him going but not so much he'll get fat and lazy.

I think it extremely mean of expats to adopt cats while here, to take them in, feed them, love them, keep them in-doors treated like one of the family and then turf the animal into the wilds of the street with their final exit.  Just the other week we found one of those cats, a pure white lady who had recently birthed and she looked like life on the street had put her through the Hard Cat Life wringer.  She was scraggy.  Her long white hair, matted all over her body, was filthy and she was looking malnourished and dejected.  But when a hand was reached out to stroke her she hesitated only for a moment, craving a love she used to know.  A truly wild street cat would definitely not do that.  Our cat loving neighbour has taken her in to get her, and her offspring, back to health.

Our Cat was eventually enticed out from under the flowers to the doorstep if we sat quietly enough next to his dish.  It took a long while before he deigned to let us stoke him out on the doorstep, though he never really looked comfortable with that, so we never pushed it.

One day while Hubster was on the couch and I was in the kitchen and our door was open, the growing kitten ventured inside the apartment, ever so slowly edging his way along the wall, cautiously sniffing here and there.  I still remember him skating on the tiled floor his legs racing on the spot like some cartoon character in his rush to get back out the door when one of us moved and frightened the daylights out of him.

A friend who heard about the kitten very kindly gave us a cat stand.  (Hubster was horrified - that was going too far, but I thought it may prove interesting).  We introduced the kitten to the stand and he loved it.  He would make a game of creeping into the apartment, jumping on the cat stand, then leaping off and racing out the door, skidding and sliding on the floor tiles all the way saving his final vault out onto the welcome mat at front our door to send it careening down the steps with him surfing on top.  The mat would be returned to its place because we used to like watching his antics.

Cat is a bit big for the cat stand now, though will still jump onto it for a scratch or to sleep when he is banished from the furniture - which is often when The Hubster is around.  He is quite at home in the apartment when he comes strolling in these days.  In fact, this is cat as I type...

How he has managed to wheedle his way from his cat stand to the couch with me in situ has been a long and slow process, but wheedle he has.  It has helped his cause that he is quite a bright cat.  He doesn't push his luck while in house.  No pulling rubbish out of the kitchen bin (like his mate The Black Cat who has, on occasion without us knowing until we hear plastic bag fossicking, followed cat indoors), no jumping on the bench in search of food (Black Cat again - varmint!), he tries very hard not to scratch and claw at the furnishings saving that activity for the pole on the cat stand, and should he forget a light tap on his paws stops him in his tracks.  And if he turns up while we are having dinner (we tend to leave our door open when at home in the evenings for the breeze)  he does now what he did when he first arrived on the scene.  He'll sit a little distance off, looking hopeful.  He also understands the word 'Out', and out he'll go.

To this day I have never picked cat up.  A visitor tried one day and is wearing the scratch marks for his effort.  He does, however, after five years, quite like a scratch under the chin and will curl up beside me on the couch on those evenings he just needs someone nearby while he sleeps.

Cat has only spent a few full nights inside our apartment, but those were special occasions - each night, even as that tiny kitten with an obviously well tuned survival instinct, he gets turfed back outside when we go to bed.

Very early on in our relationship Cat went AWOL.  He was gone for almost a week.  I figured he'd found someone else to feed him or come to an untimely end in a fight.  Then one morning we woke to a pounding on the door - 'Bang, bang, bang. Bang bang bang', in quick succession and a desperate crying.  I opened the door and in shot Cat - straight under the couch.  He stayed there all day.  When I finally enticed him out he looked a mess.  Dirty, bedraggled and with two huge patches of bare flesh around his shoulder and neck where fur should have been.  He got to spend that night in the apartment, hidden in the the little dark cubby at the base of the cat stand, with cat biscuits and a warm blanket.

Quite often cat will simply sit on our doorstep without coming in at all.  Our neighbor thought I'd trained him that way.  But no.  I guess he just feels relatively safe there surveying the neighborhood as it does offer quite a good view of the path where he can easily spot any approaching feline that should be avoided like nasty Ginger Tom on his nightly prowl or the mean White Mess looking for an extra meal.

Ginger Tom likes to beat up other cats.  He is afraid of people so tends to sit in the shadows till he thinks the way is clear to come a steal Cats food.  The White Mess also likes to beat up other cats (even Ginger Tom) and is not afraid of humans and will boldly head up the steps, hissing and growling his way to the bowl as Cat backs off.  Anyone who thinks being a stray is fun needs to spend more time watching the cats in their neighborhood.  It's a tough street life.

Cat used to run inside and hide under the couch when the big boys were patrolling the grounds and our door was open, now he tends to stand his ground, just for a bit because he knows nasty cat visits on our doorstep are not tolerated and something with clout is usually thrown out the open door at offenders. Our neighborly cat lover thinks we should just let all the visiting cats eat.  She's crazy.

Cat, after he's sufficiently fed, will curl up next to me when I sit on the front steps strumming on my guitar, just chillin'.  (He obviously doesn't have an ear for good music otherwise he'd find someplace else to sit).  These days Cat feels brave enough to stay beside me when Ginger Tom passes by, taking a wide berth because Ginger and Hubster do not see eye to eye and many a thing has been biffed in Ginger Toms direction to let him know how unwelcome he is.  (As I mentioned earlier, the Husband has this lack of other Cat Love).

When we put Cat out he usually sits about on the door mat for a awhile (I've seen him through the curtains) and then skedaddles to places unknown, occasionally not coming back for days.

A few evenings it is obvious Cat has had a hard time out in Riyadh's Cat World because he will turn up at the apartment early, sometimes looking dirty and ruffled, occasionally carrying an injury,  and he'll jump on the cat stand, sprawl himself out and crash.  I can walk past, lift his paws, twiddle his ears or pull back his lips and he won't flinch.  He is out for the count.  On a couple of those occasions I haven't had the heart to throw him out because, clearly, cat needs a rest, so he has got to spend those nights indoors.  It's nice to know he feels safe enough to completely zonk out in the apartment.  Around 4am he will walk into the bedroom and make a few mewling sounds to wake us so we can put him out.  Cat has never gone to the toilet in the house.  Not even when he was little.

Waving goodbye to Cat when we leave will be a time of mixed emotions, I'm sure.  We have, after all, deliberately only semi-adopted him knowing our life here is temporary (though that 2 years has extended to quite a healthy 7 at last count) and that he needed to be left outdoors to learn street smarts, only coming to us for a safe or quiet haven.  Cat has worked out a Compound Snack Route to keep himself amply fed.  Our place, Ahmed's place, Theresa's place, Euan's place, the security office and, just recently, Nathalie's place.  And of course the Bar-b-cue area when a group meal is on.  Those, as far as I know, are the Free Cat Food zones available in the compound.  I have no idea  if cat ever ventures out of the compound, though there are a few cats who have ventured in and stayed - Nasty Mess was one of those.  And I know Cat can hunt.  I've seen him chase down a bird and run off over the back fence to devour it.  So I shouldn't be worried about his ability to find food.  It's just I know he needs a refuge, a retreat, a safe house now and then to recharge before heading back out to face the many dangers and challenges of the Stray Cat World in Riyadh.  Where is he going to find that if we aren't here?




Ka Kite,
Kiwi

Change is In The Future

"When the oil runs out, Saudi Arabia will be history...everybody will up and leave, including the rich Saudi who have homes and investments all over the world".  That's the common rhetoric you hear around the expat traps.  Even I admit to thinking along those lines every now and then.
Well, the oil hasn't exactly run out but the downturn in prices has meant that the Saudi government has, for the past many months, been thinking about their future.  As Saudi's future affects a number of expats, I started a blog post on what I thought should be part of those changes.  The Husband, bless his worried heart, told me not to post it and every now and then because, lets face it, he pays the bills, I heed his advice but given how things seem to be panning out, here's what I wrote all those months ago.

***************************

The Deputy Crown Prince made an announcement the other day that wasn't exactly a surprise given all the debate going on in expat circles - well the ones I move in anyway.  I'm sure there was debate in Saudi circles too, but not so anyone else could hear it because peeps in this part of the world are cautious about exactly what they express and to whom.

And Yes, we all know if Saudi hierarchy had thought about their future years ago when the gravy train was so overloaded with cash that the handful of peeps at the top who had access to it all didn't really know what to do with it so wasted a boatload of it on themselves and their closest relatives, they would be in a much better position now to deal with this little economic hiccup.  But they didn't, so lets move on...

The general consensus is that the government is going to use this little downturn in the oil income to drag this country into the 21st century.  All of it.  All the way.  I'm guessing the young people love this idea. (I have to guess because I haven't actually asked that many young people their opinion, but the ones I know are waiting, expectantly, for things to happen - here's hoping they aren't disappointed).  The old conservative bunch may have to dragged kicking and screaming.

Here's a Bloomberg article on the man charged with guiding and directing the future of Saudi Arabia if you are interested:  The $2Trillion Project to Get Saudi Arabia's Economy Off Oil .

What Saudi don't want, and who can blame them, is a move toward change that will descend into chaos, as has happened with their neighbors.  Personally I don't think young Saudi are at the mass revolution stage.  Restless, yes.  Revolting, no.  The sector that needs to be watched are the old guard and any of their loopy loo friends.  The time is right to make a few adjustments to the way the populace thinks - the modernists will be looking ahead.  The loopy loos will be looking backwards.

Some indications of the changes are already published and if you want to read more about them just google: Future of Saudi Without Oil.

Personally I reckon we'll see:

• The sponsorship system eradicated.  It's nothing but a slave trading system full of exploitative kafeels and their equally unscrupulous agents.  Naturally there should be some other form of control for monitoring the comings and goings of people into and out of the country...just not that one.

• True reform of the public education system which most intelligent people recognize needs to change, the question is how.  Naturally I have formed an opinion on this subject even though I have close to nothing to do with the current educational institution.  I see there has to be a two fold approach.  First the curriculum needs a massive upgrade to better prepare youth for the modern world in terms of their ability to ask inquiring questions, to think critically and creatively and not be afraid of expressing an idea or opinion.  (You're thinking I'm barking up a tree with this, aren't you?)
  
  Perhaps instead of insisting on rote learning of the quran, which I gather through much discussion with people in the system is largely the current set up of public education, Saudi could set its brightest brains to creatively integrating quranic lessons into a more useful school curriculum.  You know, like real life word problems.
  
  Then of course you have to find someone who can teach such a curriculum and encourage participation and expression without getting their shemarghs tied in a twist.  I have mentioned before that you cannot possibly teach a student to think out of the box if you don't know how to think that way yourself.  Most local teachers in this country have definitely been programmed to live 'in the box'.  And the box sucks. 
  
  I have been the recipient of Saudi type lessons.  It was quite early in my residence in Saudi and fellow compound dweller and I decided to try and learn Arabic, spoken and written, so hired a woman who said she could teach us.  We thought learning from a local would give us an edge.  We had one lesson.
  
  There wasn't much structure to the session which wasn't so bad.  The disturbing things were when we struggled.  After teaching us 'Hello, How are you' and the response she asked us to have a conversation with each other - but she wouldn't let us have the conversation.  She would jump in and say the words for us...every time.  We're lucky if we got half a word out.  When we struggled with pronunciation she was less than complementary and, eventually, she gave up teaching us to talk, with a huff and a sigh, and moved on to writing the alphabet.  She shows us a few letters and asks us to write what she has.  While I am trying to do so she snatches the pencil out of my hand exclaiming 'No, no...like this', takes the paper from in front of me and writes the letter herself.
  
  Suffice to say my friend and I decided to relieve this woman of the language teaching position and then sat about expressing, with absolute astonishment and disbelief, how shit it must be to be a young student in her class with no recourse to removing her for from the role.
  
  A few years later, after many promises being made by the modernist hierarchy to revamp the national education curriculum not much was improving because, basically, they were being beaten back every step of the way by the conservative crew who didn't want to give away a second of Quranic Time.  (Gosh this reminds me of the American education problems.  If you ever get a chance to watch 'Waiting for Superman' you may see a lot of similarities to  the Saudi situation).
  
  My neighbor was hired to teach in a supposedly international but actually Saudi school and complained constantly about the ridiculousness of her workload.  Not the teaching workload - the additional stuff, like the marking of homework.   She had to go through every student book and mark every missing dot to the 'i', every crooked cross to the letter 't'.  Such activity is an absolute waste of a teachers time and is also not teaching, but it is a reflection of what the system thinks is important.  Trivialities.  Image.  She would watch my grand-children on the mat outside our door writing imperfectly shaped words and hear me saying well done - not for the imperfection, but for the effort -  and correcting every now and then as required and wondered why that type of teaching wasn't acceptable in her class.
  
  Here's hoping the new changes include real change to the education system, its' curriculum and delivery.  Those would be a good start.

• The government can't afford to keep employing their own so all those cushy government jobs need to be fewer and further between.  And seriously, I have heard numerous Saudi say they prefer to be hired by the government because its a cushy, non—demanding place to be.  Watching the reshuffles in those offices will be interesting.
  
• More foreign investment makes sense so people can be pushed out of their comfy government employment into real work.  PPP's (Public Private Partnerships) seem to be flavour of the month.  I'm guessing a Saudi influenced arrangement will see more risk put on, and more profit demanded by, the private P in that bunch
  
  The Private portion of the PPP's also has to be able to have more say on how to deal with unproductive workers because no company wants to come here if they have to pay people whose productivity is negligible, or pay two nationals to do the job of one expat and, whether Saudi likes it or not, that is the reality of the Saudi reputation on work ethic - it is sorely lacking.  If the Private Sector is going to be expected to take on more risk, it would not be impractical of them to push back on Saudization criteria because it will hugely affect their bottom line.
  
  Too much privatization isn't healthy either.  Often times the profit becomes more important than the people.  Saturating a country with large corporations only leads to the small business owner being pushed out.  With 20+million nationals, there's the potential for a lot of unhappy small folk if privatization by big corporations takes over willy nilly like it has the rest of the world.
  
  If Saudi is keeping their finger on the pulse of global trends, they will see the the little guy is beginning to re-emerge in various areas, mostly because the consumer, sick of the big guy, is asking for more community focused, user friendly, responsive and local entities.
  
  Balancing large and small business investment properly will be tricky given that the Regal Clique has a lot of their fingers in the big corporate pies.  That clique just stamp their stroppy feet and say NO to anyone else wanting to enter the market that looks like they might be either too much of a competitor to an existing regal owned entity or unwilling to pay the backhander to the Princely Type holding up the paperwork.  Ask around the traps and many a rumored tale will be told about that! 

• Training institutions, educational institutions and the workplace has to be able to emphasize reward for effort, not reward for existing which, unfortunately, is how the many Saudi view their place in the world.  At the top, regardless. Take for example a locally based firm that gives its Saudi workers raises and promotions for billing four hours a week.  Four hours.  A week.  And you get a promotion.  The amount you bill over the course of a year doesn't even pay your salary.  Nope, the expat slaving it in the office next door, billing 60 hours a week is covering for everybody else.  And his promotions get over looked.  If the idea is to replace all expats with Saudi's then stuff like that should not be happening.  A good hard look in the mirror and facing some home truth's about exactly what the Saudi employee is or is not producing is required.  

• Women should be driving.  There are far too many unnecessary foreign men milling about in this country who don't actually need to be here.
  
• The government will be expected to assist while the local people get used to less money in pocket due to price rises of consumer goods.  And they will rise some more although I'm guessing expats will be expected to shoulder the brunt of those somehow.
  
• To make the locals more accepting of price increases and austerity measures The Regal Ones should start leading by example.  Everyone knows where all the money is.  If peace of the masses is to remain and vocal disapproval by them is to be kept to a minimum, I suggest the peeps up top take some of that cash they have stashed in their bank accounts and back their own country by plugging deficits with money they should have been sharing with their countrymen for years anyway.
  
  When the household budget gets tight the natives will get restless and risk being outspoken.  If things go that far and Saudi responds with a heavy 'Shut your trap or you will disappear' response, they will have lost the respect of their nation.  After all, only nasty dictators pick on their own.  But if the hierarchy can be seen doing the right thing and curbing that terribly bad habit they've developed of rewarding themselves with and from riches they basically siphoned away from the masses just because they have a certain blood line, then everyone might come out of this downturn relatively happy chappies. 

• Women should also be doing their own housework and childcare and Dad will have to start helping out more with both.   If families insist on the the 'need' for a maid cum–nanny cum–cook come–every flaming thing, an unfortunate side affect of price increases will be abuse of poorly paid maids and drivers (money stress always makes people crack and pick on the weakest link).
  
• Free health and education for nationals may be a thing of the past. (Such a shame.  This is the only country that actually does provide for nationals health and education.  We say health and education is free in NZ but we're always having to pay fees, books, uniforms, trips, medications, procedures,....it all gets very un–free very quickly.)

• Conservative fruitcakes will get all trigger happy because they prefer the country back in the dark ages.  Everybody, be on your guard.

• Naturally, such modernization has to be in agreement with the quran because, it just does.  However my take is that, though the contents of the quran can't, and will not, be changed, there may be some adaptations to current interpretation in the wind.

And those are just some of the things I think might be, could be, should be in Saudi's future if they want to come out on top.   Whatever happens, the future here is going to be an interesting ride.  Everybody, hold tight!



Ka Kite,
Kiwi 

Stunned Falcons, Layla Lakes and Water.

The picture is beautiful.  A blue water lake fringed with green grasses and a jet boat pulling a water skier.  If that is in Saudi we need to go find it, I said to Hubster. So Google was searched and searched again for the location of Layla Lakes.

We took Mr UK with us on this trip.  He was on a short stint back in Riyadh and loves road tripping with us.  Either that or he didn't have a better offer this particular weekend.

We set off quite early because our first stop was just south of Riyadh to watch a falcon display in the desert.  There were Ooooo's and Ahhh's as the birds were carried out on their perches and displayed.  Then Oooo's and Ohhhh's as the live bait was bought out and released into the air for a raptor type breakfast.

Mr UK and the rest of the group were impressed with all falcon related activity and the falcon handler was a wealth of information.  The birds displaying their speed, grace and aggression as they swooped in on their prey in the brilliant blue sky, a perfect backdrop to the brick red dunes on a crisp but clear autumn morning, was spectacular to watch.

The sight was only marred by all the rubbish sprinkled over the desert. If someone could please invent biodegradable plastic bags - and cheap ones because Saudi businesses won't buy them otherwise - that would be great.   (And I'm looking at SABIC here - you great massive corporation of plastic related inventiveness.  Take up the challenge for your country if not the world and create truly safe, biodegradable plastic bags!  Either that or sponsor nationwide education on how to put rubbish in bins, preferably in all languages of those who live in the country because, lets face it, its not just resident Arabs throwing their shit around the countryside. Or sponsor the supply of reusable canvas bags in supermarkets while training the grocery packers on the concept of ”Less plastic, Better Environment."  PS - I know someone happy to spread a Two Bag Rubbish Revolution message if you'd like to sign him up).

The ducks who made a dash from their open cage narrowly escaped becoming a mid-morning falcon snack.  We watched with mounting tension and nervous chuckles as one escapee waddled up the dune past a falcon resting in the sand seemingly oblivious to the imminent danger, while the falcon, looking on in total disbelief at the sight of the bird shuffling through the sand in front of him, seemed stunned into inaction.

We're out....RUUUUUNNNNN!

Falcon: What the......?
Duck:  Got to escape, got to escape...puff, puff, pant, pant.

Falcon:  Ya shittin me...

Falcon:  (Confused, stunned, falcon face)

Falcon:  (Doing a double take)  (Contemplating action)
Duck:  Got to escape, got to escape....I'm at the toooooppp!!!

Falcon:  *Sigh*...doing nothing is making me look bad.
I have to go check this idiot out.

Falcon:  Hey duck
Duck:  Got to escape, got to escape

Falcon: From? (raised eyebrow look)
Duck: (realizing this is a Falcon) ARRRRGGGGGGGHHH

Duck:  please don't kill me, please don't kill me

Falcon: Hmmmmmm...(pacing, thinking like)

Today's your lucky day duck.
Get outta here before the Falcon man sticks you back in the cage

.

The Falcon man caught the duck and put it back in the cage.  We asked why the Falcon didn't seem interested in ripping the duck to pieces.  Probably, he said, because the duck was too big.  The birds won't take on large prey if they don't have to because of the risk of damaging a wing.  Wing damage is not good for a hunting bird.

A sigh of relief was breathed for the duck that this Falcon had already eaten.  This group was not into totally unnecessary blood letting.


To top off the morning, everyone who felt inclined got to hold a falcon. Or rather, the Falcon got to hold them.  The claws on these birds are quite large and very sharp.  Leather gear is a necessary accessory for this photo opportunity, as is not minding holding bits of shredded pigeon - presumably an incentive to keep a falcon steady and quiet for the photo shoot.

After a spot of qahwah, a few more photos and a chinwag with fellow early morning Falcon watchers, it was time for us to head out of town, further south, to our intended destination of Layla.

Layla is about 300km's from Riyadh.  It wasn't so much to the township we were heading as to the lakes outside of it.  According to my research there were 15 lakes in all, some of a very large size.  Having unearthed a map on Google we headed toward the pin drop on my phone, and yes, having an almost direct route to our destination felt like I was cheating on this expedition.  We are so used to traversing this country almost mapless.

Although our early exploits in the desert had taken place in the cool of the morning, we arrived in Layla in the hottest part of the day.  Possibly not the best planned timing but then I was driven by this picture of water based sports...

Source

Yes this is Layla lakes only a few short decades ago.

On the other side of town we turned onto a side road at the end of which was a rather long fence, slightly old, and a gate, slightly ajar.  The vehicle was parked and we walked through to see what could be seen.

Topping the Saudi version of a country fence - sand piled into banks by a digger all along a boundary line - a squeal of excitement passed my lips. The boys clambered up to see what brought on such uncharacteristic behavior.  

Ummmm....errrrrr.  

Is that someone's house?

It looks a bit wrecked.

Where's the water? 

Just a few of the comments being made by my weekend travel companions about the deserted buildings we were looking at.  They were confused.  I was excited.  We were in the right place.  This was the reputedly never opened Layla Lakes Resort, built when the lakes were a weekend respite destination from the heat of the desert.

Now the lakes are dry sinkholes -  geological marvels of little use to the man who spent a fortune erecting the nearby retreat.  The depleting of the country's water table sank the resort as the water in the nearby lakes disappeared before his eyes.

We stood at the edge of the now dry lake beds  They are rather large.  So large in fact, we didn't make our way around them - the heat beat us back.  We looked for ways to walk into the bottom of the deeper hole - the water must have bubbled up from some cavity in the ground and that would have been a great find - but there was no easy trail.  Part of a natural bridge between two of the deeper lake's had caved in as well, suggesting a search in that area might be a risky adventure.  The pigeons we disturbed were easily flying in circles in the shade of the deep wells, teasing us with our clumsy efforts. 

The small formations on the side of the big lake, shaped like cups that one could imagine making excellent cascades as water poured over them or making homes for fresh water critters, and the much larger ball and boulder shapes making up the sides of the deeper lakes are apparently of significant geological interest - a Saudi Caves article has more information for you geologically inclined readers who would like to find out more about this.  All I know is the formations are slowly, but surely, turning to dust.

Though this location can be marked off as something interesting we visited in Saudi, it was a sad sight not just because of the haunted looking buildings.  Saudi has a major water crisis that I'm not sure everyone in top positions has been appropriately addressing in their rush to build new homes and expand their cities.  And for people who hail from the desert the Gen Y and Z populous don't seem to have much of a water conservation mindset.  Water is wasted everywhere.  Drivers can be seen early in the morning washing sponsor cars every day, I've watched maids run water in the kitchens cleaning the dust from between the drupelets of blackberries till the fruit practically shines - a completely unnecessary exercise if you ask me.  And it is possible to stroll past water leaking on to the road from a hidden but obviously broken pipe for days in Riyadh.  In saying all that  though, I have to admit, as I look out at my well watered compound residence with its green trees, lovely swimming pool and quaint but unnecessary rockery water feature, my choice of home probably isn't helping the water situation much.

 

Rumour has it that the guys responsible for this country's watery plight are now playing a 'Steal from Peter to save Paul' strategy, which basically means locations in Saudi that still have sufficient underground water for their local population, like Al Ula for example, are being 'encouraged' with lots of wheeling and dealing, much to the disgust of the local residents, many of whom are small plot family farmers and gardeners, to send their precious resource to other areas of the country marked for rapid expansion.  Not exactly a long term strategy and one can easily envisage Al Ula winding up with sinkholes like Layla Lakes and Al Kharj (whose sinkholes you can read about in this post Al Kharj and the Eyes of Najma).

We left Layla Lakes contemplative of the future of this country and its drive to rapid modernization and growth wondering if it was all really worth it if such action is bleeding the country dry.  One day, perhaps like the falcon and the Layla Lakes resort owner, the country will be left stunned at how it buggered its water supplies up because of their early arrogant lack of concern for its limits.

Ka Kite,
Kiwi

Saudi Waiting For Change?

 

There is a Deputy Crown Prince in Saudi Arabia who, according to recent accounts, is wearing himself out because he wants to drag this country into the 21st Century.  There is also a huge youthful population who want to start living in that century in more ways than just buying the latest iPhone release. We were discussing the other day, a few peeps and I, how these same youth don't seem to have jumped on board the 2030 plan and shouted out, loudly and clearly....'Yes! At last!  Finally someone to get us ahead'. Why is that?

The majority of Saudi youth, so I gather, want social modernization more than economic reform.  As a bright, well traveled and well educated young Saudi man told me, he sees that many of the issues considered immoral in Saudi Arabia today are only a problem in this country.  The rest of the world seems to have moved on and he wonders what is it with his own countrymen that they are happy to remain behind in many ways.  His family question his attitude, asking why he is not happy with the norms that have sustained this country for centuries.

There are young women I know with degrees in the business sector who have been told they must stay behind their frosted glass office with no view out at all, ladies (and not all of them young) crowded into a hot, shared, noisy space while their counterpart males get spacious, individual offices with views of the street out in the main business area where all the high flying discussion takes place. And the young women wonder what is so special about them to get such treatment?  The answer from the Saudi man in charge of the office is 'That is the way it is'. Their question behind their glass cage is, 'Why?

The other question young people ask is "What are our people afraid of?"

The answer to that question is easy.  The old guard are afraid of change.   The young people know this already, though not all of them are sure what to do with that knowledge.  On the one hand this could highlight their immaturity or on the other is a reflection of the respect that most Saudi youth hold for their elders who they consider to be wise and worthy - even if on modernization issues they largely disagree with them.

The old guard fear has its own.  Those who have become powerful, whether in the business arena, the Mosque or the home from the entrenched norms aren't about to give up that power without, at the least, a personal internal struggle or, at most, voiced protest.  That voice usually comes in the form of stern words that generally say things along the lines of 'you're being un-Islamic, of not being Saudi, of chasing infidel values, of going to hell. Of do what I say or else... '

In the past such a dressing down may have instilled fear and doubt in the hearts of their intended target.  What the old guard have forgotten is that the youth of today are, for the most part, well educated, globally connected and influenced, large in number and looking for answers that gel with the modern age.  In other words, such tactics don't work so much any more.

What the conservatives of this country also seem to have missed, which isn't so obvious unless you know where to look, is that the youth have quietly gone about advancing their goal of social modernization despite efforts to prevent it.  And they have, either cunningly or unwittingly, used the economic, political and cultural situation of the country to their advantage.  While the focus of the world, media and general Saudi population in recent years has been on the state of the Saudi economy, Saudi politics, Saudi oil, terrorism, Middle East conflict, new kings, Ministerial reshuffles and the Deputy Crown Prince as he pushes ahead with economic reform, the youth have been implementing strategies, presumably developed in youth based digital media circles that the old guard are deliberately kept out of and ably assisted by forward thinkers within the government, to create centers that are, well, modern.

There is no frosted glass.  There is no gender favoritism of space.  And the world hasn't ended.  More importantly the young people in that space are positive, energetic, happy in their work environment and getting things done.  Prior to discovering these bastions of progress I did wonder why there seemed to be silence from the youth sector regarding the economic reform plans and rather pitied the Deputy Crown Prince as without voiced support from the sector who will most likely, fingers crossed, benefit from his plan because many of his ideas include improvement for youth, his seems an uphill battle.

It was only while out the other day, chatting and laughing with some young women at a cafe while some from the old guard frowned at the fun being had, that I was reminded that cheering in this country, that emotively driven act of shouting for joy or singing praises, has been so completely discouraged in the past that the population is cautious about such expression in the public sphere.  It's ironic how advantageous that forced impassiveness has been for youth who, I sense, prefer to keep their cheering regarding social modification of their spaces to a minimum else it attract unwanted attention.

Here's hoping some part of the 2030 reforms include promotion of the normal human emotion of expressing happiness.

Change is not an easy thing to implement or to face and it has been interesting noting the two different methods for creating change in Saudi - one very public, the other quiet and steady.  Recent reform policies, such as public sector pay cuts and various price increases, have thrown up consequences that the Saudi population had not bargained for and the youth probably had not even considered possible in the bright future they dream of.  Should the reform policies begin to adversely affect their comfortable lives the youth may start viewing the nations makeover more seriously and vocally.  For now, being born into a life of plenty and having not had to face economic downturn before, coupled with that natural youthful optimism we of more mature years remember having but cannot for the life of us figure out where it went, the youth are keeping themselves buoyant, seemingly relatively unperturbed and quite upbeat because their desire for changes in the social arena is bearing fruit.  Long may their happiness last.



Ka Kite,
Kiwi

The Hunt For Vege Seeds in Riyadh

While wandering the street during salah one day a year or two after my arrival in Riyadh, I came across a Sultan Gardens store on Takhasussi St and decided to hang about till it re-opened.  Not because I wanted gardening supplies.  Because I was missing a garden.  A vegetable garden, that is.

Riyadh is the only place we have lived where we have not, almost immediately, put in a vege patch.  Perhaps it's because we were new to apartment living, or perhaps it is because we were living in the Saudi Arabia, renowned for its quirky rules, but I remember looking at all the other apartments in our block the day I arrived and registering the complete lack of anything green or plant like in their windows or on their doorsteps.  Maybe, I recall thinking to myself, other than the beautifully landscaped patches of common grounds with their arty seating and rocky rook waterfalls, gardening isn't allowed here.

It was a fleeting thought, chased away with a shrug of the shoulders as my mind set itself to other things about this new life that needed attention.  Eventually though, this green grass, country girl, while sitting on her front stairs, started wondering what that common ground would look like planted out in spuds with a bean runner at one end.

The Husband and I hail from rural NZ.  We're used to space - the quarter acre section with someones paddock over the back fence.  And within that space has always been a vege patch.  My father dug up a garden whenever the whanau moved homes.  And with nine mouths to feed, Hubsters father found a large garden made economic sense too.  I guess vege gardening is in our genes hence the reason we like them, much more so than the flower gardens that beautify our compound.

Our compound is lovely, it really is, and I often tell people we reside in a pretty compound.  But that's just it.  It's pretty.  And someone else maintains it.  Gardeners turn up regularly to cut grass, trim trees, fix the watering system, tend to the flower beds, weed, take out plants and put in plants. Granted they've planted a couple of herb bushes about the place, specifically Thyme (aka Zataar) which, along with mint, seems to be a Saudi herb staple, and it all works to make the compound pleasant to look at.  But I doubt that taking a spade to our landscaped compound lawn to stick in some rows of silver beet would have been appreciated by fellow tenants or the manager.

One day I noticed tomato plants coming up in the beautifully maintained flower beds and thought 'Wow, tomatoes. Awesome'.  A few weeks went by and the spindly plants had started bending toward the ground due to lack of supports and tiny yellow flowers could be seen, 'Cool', I thought, 'tomatoes soon'.  Shortly after, the garden maintenance crew turned up and ripped out the young tomato plants. and replaced them with pansies (or something similarly flowery).  This vege patch kinda girl spent the day feeling somewhat deflated.

Though I think the pansies (or whatever flower it is that is flowering in our compound right now, because flowered plants are simply not my forfeit), look lovely, having someone else stick them in the ground, then remove them as per the management gardening plan doesn't really soothe the soul like do it yourself vegetable gardening.

It was time, I decided, to start growing vegetables.

Potted veges at our front door, because we don't have a back door, (our compound was built at a time when OSH was a money making twinkle in somebody's eye), I told the Hubster my plan.  He reminded me that the lack of shade at our doorstep at heat battered times of the day (which in summer is pretty much all day), would only result in shriveled plants and be akin to plant abuse!  No matter.  I was on a mission.

Two places were touted as the 'Go To' for gardening supplies in Riyadh as I headed off in search of vegetable seeds to soothe my gardening soul - Sultan Gardens or one of the roadside nurseries that seem to be placed at random spots along the main roads.

Sultan Gardens has lovely garden decor for landscaping purposes - rustic iron seats, huge fountains suitable for family palaces, ceramic pots of all sizes, artistic stone ornaments and, of course, the outdoor flowers and shrubbery to go in them.  But no vege seedlings.

The nurseries had bags of soil, loads of potted trees and flowers, but no veges.  Why, I asked Mr Noor, are there no vegetable seeds in the gardening shops?  We concluded that the home vege patch isn't really a Saudi urban thing.

Chats with Saudi's friends when describing my mission at that time backed up that assumption.  Patches of dirt for vege gardens isn't really factored into the typical modern Saudi urban home design.  That isn't to say they don't eat veges.  They do.  But the growing of vegetables is somebody else's concern or takes place out of the city on the farm.  One Saudi friend noted, with a hint of sarcasm, that if the modern Saudi home design did include a garden it is highly likely the maid or driver would be put in charge of its care!  Okey dokey, I'll wait a year or two while considering how to put that into print - and there it is...

Suggestions that we move to a farm out of town a little, or simply lease a patch of ground someplace  nearby so I can get my vege gardening fix fell then, and fall still, on deaf Hubster ears.  (After much meditation it has dawned on me I am probably grasping at rather large straws with those ideas).

Another option for my vege patch fix was making regular visits to an organic garden owned by a local Prince who, I understand, is an excellent chef that I mentioned in my previous post  Organic Garden in Wadi Hanifah.  Any excess from his garden is sold to expats.  Having never had to travel huge distances to my vege patch before, stubborn, pouty old me didn't want to have to start that kind of nonsense back then.   I have since figured out that living in Saudi requires adjusting your mind set to doing things differently, if you want to do anything at all.

As you can imagine, the day I found packets of vegetable seeds in Lulu's I was totally stoked and bought more than a few. So, though it has taken a while, over the Saudi winter I have a range of vegetable plants at our front door - tomatoes, capsicum, and lettuce with mustard and radish - and I love them.  My eyes search out the green and growing plants each time I return home and evenings are spent sitting on the stairs beside the pots thinking how lucky I am to have them.  Just looking at them brings me peace.

During the summer months, Hubster is right.  The summer sun glares relentlessly at our front door and, because we tend to leave the country for a week or three heading for cooler climates at that time of year, the plants don't stand a chance of surviving.  I have considered asking security to take up watering duties but, as they already look after Cat on our jaunts away, I don't think it fair to impose any more on their time.  So as the weather warms up, any remaining plants are turned into the soil until August when I can start my vege pot patch all over again.


Summer is drawing to a close now and I am eyeing my empty pots and planning another trip to Lulu's for seeds and the local roadside stalls for bags of soil and, wait for it....vege seedlings.  The roadside nurseries have got themselves up with the play and it is possible to find little pottles of tomatoe seedlings and one or two other vegetables.  I might pop into Sultan Gardens as well, just because.  Hubster has decided that perhaps my mission needs help, so he has managed to find a couple of guttering channels (a bit of a chore in a place that doesn't tack them on to building rooves because it rains so rarely) to put together a hydroponic system at our front door to complement the pot collection.  I knew he wouldn't stay out of the vege garden for too long.

Ka Kite,
Kiwi