Welcome to Saudi

A long while back (April 2012, to be precise), I posted a blog called 'Welcome to Riyadh Airport'.  One thing I mentioned was the lack of welcoming signs at Riyadh airport.

Well, things have changed, just a little.  There are now big screens above the baggage scanners in arrivals, declaring in a number of languages, a welcome to Riyadh.  And this morning on my way out I saw this...

Saudi is changing.  Who knows, maybe next month women will be driving!

Yours in moblogging joy

Kiwi

Little Green Men At Riyadh Airport.

Ok, so tonight I take back anything I may have said about Little Green Men. Tonight I'm at the Riyadh airport and being the first day of Eid, it's bedlam!

The Little Green Men now have a lemony yellow uniform and the price of their service (10SAR) is embroidered on their shirt front. Though don't rely on it. The guy who approached us asked for 50 SAR. Hubster waved him away.

As we inched toward the scanner and viewed the queues squished beyond it in front of the check-in counters another Green Man came by and said 20 Riyal to carry our bag to the Emirates counter. Hubster, surprisingly, said Ok.

And so it was that the little green man in the yellow shirt hoisted our single suitcase off the rack after it had been scanned and held it aloft, over his head, while fighting a track through the crowded, hectic, snaking queues to the shorter, though still busy business class line with us following single file behind. (We don't actually fly business class but we are Silver Skywards members which means we get to stand in the business class queue).

Without him we would have wondered where the business class check-in counter was located - signage isn't obvious. And we would have had to fight our suitcase through people and baggage already hoha, (kiwi word for annoyed), with the wait and not looking too friendly at anyone attempting to cross through their long held spot in the queue, because holding our luggage over our heads isn't something we've ever done before and I would hazard a guess that we aren't very good at it being aging, unfit and not blessed with tall genes!

While waiting patiently in our queue we marveled at how Riyadh airport is always chaos at busy times yet it seems to work.  Sure, it could be better and we are all looking forward to the Riyadh airport upgrade. I wonder if they will still employ Little Green Men.

Written on Kiwi's iPhone while waiting for our plane, though sent some days later as data roaming hadn't kicked in!

Riyadh Airport Taxi Shinanigans

Have you heard the latest taxi shinanigans at the Riyadh airport?
An Irish friend who recently flew in told us this one.

Basically, a Saudi Taxi driver will, upon capturing an unsuspecting traveler in the car, ask for a ridiculous amount of fare to be paid in advance.  The passenger will likely hand over the cash (unless he's averse to being ripped off, in which case he will go find another taxi).

The Saudi will then drive about two miles down the road and pull over where another taxi, driven by a non-Saudi is waiting.  The passenger will then be transferred, whether he wants to or not, to the waiting taxi.
The Saudi driver will hand a few SAR to the new driver, pocket the rest of the cash, then turn around and return to the airport.

Why, you may ask, does the non-Saudi driver wait down the road?  Why not just pick up a passenger at the airport?  Because non-Saudi drivers are not allowed to pick up passengers at the airport, that is only the realm of Saudi drivers which means that any trips non-Saudi taxi's make out to the airport are dry runs back to the city.

I guess someone figured this latest idea was a win-win for all concerned.
- Saudi taxi driver does least work and gets reasonable pay.
- Non-Saudi does most work, gets paid.
- Passenger gets delivered.

Do you think this entrepreneurial?
Or is this yet another good reason to regulate taxi companies in Saudi Arabia?


Ka Kite,
Kiwi

Airport Farewell

It's 7a.m. The taxi pulls in beside the path and I take a deep breath to prepare for the chaos so common at the international terminal that makes up Riyadh airport.

Sweet wrappers litter the curb and men of South Asian extraction lie about on a number of boxes piled atop the pavement.  It occurs to me, in that fleeting half thought lost in the mists of time sort of way, that there aren't as many people or boxes as usual, perhaps because of the time of day.  I pay the driver and the men stare at the western woman exiting the taxi, then turn away when her husband jumps out of the car too and grabs the bags out of the boot.

I'm prepared to wave off the men in green who usually run up too close for my comfort, jabbering and pointing in the direction of my suitcase wanting to take it from me and wheel it into the terminal.  Their presence is only useful for people who are too pathetic to wheel their own luggage, or those who have packed their bags to over-bulging, overweight and can't lift them onto the scanner.  Today though, there are no Green Men and it starts to sink in, as I look up and down the terminal entrance exhaling a pent up breath, that the airport is unusually quiet this morning.

The doors to the terminal stand closed, uninviting, their frosted panes covered in tattered, aging stickers warning non-travelers to stay outside.  Another deep breath is consciously taken before heading through the doors that, for all their visual unpleasantness, slide quietly and smoothly open.

Inside I stop and look around in surprise.  The airport is empty.  No lines of worker expats waiting to be allowed to check in, their plastic wrapped or rope tied belongings piled high beside them.  No throngs of black abaya's clustered around white thobes.  I look at my husband who, still in his own 'Riyadh Airport Attack' mode, is striding over toward the baggage scanning.  I quick march to keep up.

I thought there would be hordes of illegal expats trying to get home - that's the impression all the newspaper reports have been giving of late. Perhaps the new extension to 'The Grace Period' has eased their panicked exit from the country.  Or perhaps the early days of Ramadan has kept everyone at home.

With so few people traveling, check-in is quick and easy before lining up in front of the customs booths.   An Indonesian maid is being handed her tickets by a bearded Saudi man and is directed to follow us in the queue.  Her Bearded Saudi then stands by one of the large silver pillars disappearing into the high terminal ceiling, watching as the line inches towards the customs desk and, every now and then, rearranging his headware.

I point him out to my husband.  Whispering in hushed, manly tones he tells me that Saudi Sponsors must make sure their charge leaves the country without any issues when on Final Exit, which requires personally delivering them to the airport and watching till they are gone.  A thin smile tugs at one corner of my mouth as I lose myself in imagining Saudi Sponsors as comic characters running to and from the airport to farewell the thousands of expats who have decided to leave recently.

 The line moves forcing me out of my own head and, once we have shuffled forward, I turn to take another look at  theBearded Saudi waiting patiently.  He doesn't look like the Saudi Sponsor in my imagination.  His demeanor is quiet, calm.  He makes me wonder when our Final Exit day will come and who will escort us.

Two more maids are soon ushered into the queue, their Saudi's not as as reserved as the first, making a rowdy show of handing over tickets and papers.  The newly arrived Saudi's then speak to one of the airport security men who are directing passengers, pointing out the two maids and obviously asking the guard to keep an eye on the women who are looking lost and overwhelmed from too much fuss and too many instructions in an unfamiliar place.

Then the Saudi's disappear. I search the near empty terminal to see where they have positioned themselves, like the first Saudi, but they are nowhere to be seen.  'Perhaps these women aren't on final exit', my husband responds to the question in my raised eyebrows.  Or perhaps the Saudi still standing by the terminal pillar takes his role more seriously than the showy two who are not seen again.

A conversation comes to mind between myself and a friend, a Muslim woman, who, on her husband accepting a job in what they believed to be the exalted home of Islam, was so excited.  Once they arrived, however, their excitement was replaced with a disappointed at the reality of the place.  People are people, I remember telling her.  Everywhere.  Including Saudi Arabia.  It didn't help her.  She remained disappointed and, hardly surprising, her husband soon found another job, in another country.

At the customs counter our visa's are checked and our passports stamped.  I load my hand luggage onto the second baggage scanner and walk through the thick curtains that hide the area for scanning ladies, where I'm wanded and directed out the other side.  My husband has his satchel over his shoulder and is waiting for me.  As I pick up my belongings, the  Indonesian maid who was behind us in the queue is loading her bags on to the scanner.  I look over toward the silver pillar.  Her Bearded Saudi has gone.

Welcome to Riyadh Airport

'Welcome to Riyadh Airport'.
If there is such a sign welcoming visitors to Riyadh's King Khalid International Airport, it must be blending into the surrounds as recollection of seeing it evades me.

The sign for 'Have a Nice Flight, Come Back Soon' is equally elusive. 

The Riyadh International Airport tends to get a lot of bad raps from peeps and admittedly it has some failings but once you know the in's and out's, and if you're a Saudi, other Arab or obvious westerner, it ain't so bad.  For everyone else, the aiport or more specifically, the attitude with which you are treated, can seriously suck.

Departing Riyadh
There are three departure terminals at Riyadh airport - Saudi Airlines international flights, most other international airlines and Saudi domestic flights.  We have used all three.

The first time that most precious of documents, The Exit and Re-entry Visa, was garnered so I could travel to destinations afar, I stood inside the international terminal thinking "Holy Guacamole". 

Having dispensed with the man in green overalls who approached the second I exited the taxi to ask if he could assist (Hubster had advised me to decline their service) the validity of that decision was being seriously questioned given how crowded the airport was.

There were queue's of men and women, mostly from the Asian continent and Filipines, with their luggage stacked closely beside them.  The queues were not moving.  In fact, closer observation showed security were holding up the lines of people and only letting one or two at a time over to the baggage scanner that must be transitted prior to reaching check-in. 

Two things were clear - not a Saudi or white face was in the queue and joining the queue was going to get me nowhere fast, but what else could I do?  Then a Saudi couple walked straight past the queue to the luggage scanner and on to the check-in counters.  Shortly after, a man in business attire headed for the front of the queue. 

I decided to follow The Suit.  Security asked, 'What airline?' I responded. They waved me to continue loading my bag and on through the single scan gate.  One does feel a bit guilty jumping the queue like that, but not guilty enough not to do it!  

If the foyer was crowded, the check-in counter area was bedlam. 

Boxes bound with rope to keep them from flying apart pile up along with the lines of people and plastic wrapped suitcases.  Which counter to use?  If you get the wrong one, regardless of how long you may have waited to reach the man smiling behind it (yes I'm wearing my rose colored glasses making that comment)...

Rose Coloured Glasses - $10 on TradeMe

...you will be sent to the back of the correct line to wait again.  Tempers flare in such situations.  Patience is a definite virtue at this airport.

One can look at a Saudi couple waltzing up to the counter and expecting attention even though you have been waiting for ages and think 'Why can't they wait in line?'  It pays to remember you just jumped ahead of umpteen workers, desparate to get home and, I'm guessing, scared of being denied that pleasure at any point in the going home process.  Bite your tongue, count your blessings!

Once checked in, head back out the same scan gate and over to the customs area, which often requires skirting the still waiting queues of workers.  Looking them in the eye is avoided. 

The customs guys at Riyadh airport have been criticized for being unfriendly.  They're Customs Guys - what do you expect, a cup of tea and a cheery, 'Hope you're having a fab day!'   Customs Guys in lots of countries are unfriendly.   Before leaving the Customs Guy make sure he has returned the precious Entry - Exit visa with your passport (unless of course you have no intention what-so-ever of coming back).  It is easy to leave that separate, yet essential, A4 page behind if you aren't paying attention to proceedings.  Then it's on to another scanner for your hand luggage.

If your of feminine gender ...

Feminine Gender is usually wrapped in black in KSA

...and there is a queue of men at this scanner, jump straight to the front to load your hand luggage.  Off to the side is a room 'Ladies Only', that's our scanning area.  There are usually two security ladies behind the thick curtains covering the entrance to Lady Scanning and food is often spread about the small table inside in various states of unfinishedness.   We get scan wanded and occasionally felt over, back and front, in this room.

If security have an issue with what's in your hand luggage they wait till you're through Lady Scanning  before asking you to reveal its contents.   On more than one occasion I have seen them ask travellers to remove nail scissors from their bag.

There is a shop past this point.  Never having looked at it I have no idea what's in it.  I usually head straight for the coffee shop.  If luck is shining upon me a comfortable seat will be available.  Otherwise, it's a long wait in a hard, butt numbing, plastic fantastic chair.

It's a good idea to be aware of your boarding time in Riyadh airport.  Don't count on announcements.  The PA system makes anything said over it complete echoed garble. 

Once the gate opens there is a rush to the queue.  This is partly from the excitement of going home.  Mostly though, it's wanting to get on the plane first because hand luggage space disappears fast.  The 'one piece of hand luggage per person' request is, like most rules in Saudi, ignored.  The size of some of the hand luggage is ridiculously large.

On a recent flight a man's hand luggage was obviously not going to fit into the overhead locker because it was actually a suitcase.  He lambasted the flight attended for her inability to find space for his bag in the lockers near his seat.  His comment,' This is your responsibility' made me laugh.  Was she also responsible for you packing your bag and calling it your hand luggage?

I chuckled to myself when she took the phrase to heart and said, 'I'm taking your bag and storing it below'.  Left hanging in the air was the rest of the sentence - 'Where your bloody bag should've been checked into anyway'.  He complained.  He wasn't happy.  He let her know.  His bag still went below.

Without fail on a flight there is the last minute 'We aren't happy with the seating arrangements' shuffle just before, or sometimes as, the plane is getting into runway position.

Some Saudi (and Yep it's always Saudi) has decided he doesn't like one of two things things - his seat or the seat His Woman (or Women) is in.   Most 'Plane Seat Shuffle' is due to the latter.  Hostesses have to ask people if they don't mind shifting seats so Woman is not sitting next to unrelated maleness. 

On one flight the hostess was desperately trying to get the Seat Shuffling Saudi's to sit down because the plane had started to taxi.  A call came over the intercom, "All steward staff please take your seats, now!"  Basically the head steward had decided if Saudi's where still standing when the plane took off, so be it, but his staff will be safely buckled in.

Arriving in Riyadh
Arriving in Riyadh is not difficult if all your paper work is in order and you are not one of the Asian labour force. 

Getting off the plane and down to customs is a piece of cake.  Just before the stairs there is a toilet for those western women who want to don the required black garb.  Although a lot of KSA expat forums say an abaya is not necessary at the airport, check whether such commentators are from Jeddah or Riyadh.  Riyadh airport has been known to have abaya spot checks - as in 'I spot you without an abaya - you don't leave here till you go put one on.'

The customs boothes in the arrival hall are divided into Saudi/GCC, business, and other.  Some days the arrival hall is absolutely chocka full of workers who are sent, without fail, to The Other lane.   Westerners fill Business.  I prefer the lane next to Saudi/GCC because once all the locals are through, security often invite women from the closest lane for processing.

Ramadan is not a good time to arrive in Riyadh. Not having eaten all day workers are on a go slow sometimes combined with bad mood. Arriving at Iftar is also a bad idea. This is when all Customs Guys will head off for their first meal of the day and if you're in the arrival hall queue be prepared to sit and wait for at least half an hour. It's funny watching westerners toe tapping, looking at their watches and getting edgy wondering 'what the hell?' All you can say at such times is "Welcome to Saudi".

Baggage claim is chaos.  Our bags have been concertinaed in the jam on the carousel.  Buying expensive luggage is a complete waste of time if you're coming to Riyadh.

What happens if you're paperwork is not is order on entering the country?  That depends on who you are or where you're from.  Most westerners have enough dosh, or a credit card, to get themselves to somewhere comfy, like Dubai, while they get whoever stuffed up their paperword to fix it.  Such repair can take from a few days to a couple of weeks depending on how connected your paperwork man is.

For anybody else, apparently there are cells rooms under the airport for those who turn up with the wrong paperwork and have no way of changing plans or are left 'unclaimed' by prospective sponsors (because no-one gets into the country without a sponsor) according to this article in the Arab News about Stranded Maids.    That must be a terrible situation to be in - What an awesome welcome to Riyadh Airport that would be :(



Ka Kite,
Kiwi