Day 40 - Oh by the way, on Sunday, I'm meeting a Prince

2.6.09 - This morning I had an exciting outing planed.  I was to meet a very interesting lady, an American, married to a Saudi, who runs her own business here. And she kindly agreed to have coffee with me at the famous Kingdom Mall, an exciting destination in itself. There are hundreds of malls here, but this one is special. First it is located at the base of a stunning awe-inspiring building, the tallest in the country and an architectural masterpiece (if I may say so myself – but see photo and decide for yourself). Second, it is, to my knowledge, the most luxurious mall in the country (think Chanel, Moschino, Armani, so not for the faint hearted or light weight spenders) and thirdly it is the only mall to have a women’s only floor. This is the bit I was particularly interested in. It’s quite a big deal because it means that no men whatsoever are allowed on this floor. All the workers therefore are female (I hadn’t seen any women work outside a compound in the whole of the 6 weeks we’ve been here, even frilly lingerie stores and glamorous beauty counters are attended by manly men. Weird.)

Kingdom Tower

Add to all that, the excitement of leaving the compound for reasons not involving school or going to the supermarket and you can see why this was no ordinary day.

So I decided to get an early start, and gave myself plenty of time for traffic, road side accidents, taxi not turning up, getting lost, getting stopped by the Muttawah, etc.

Well as it turned out, everything went smoothly and I arrived fresh as a daisy. But only to find everything shut. Well the mall was open, but none of the shops were. I’m quite used to that now. I’ve lost track of the number of times I’ve turned up somewhere only to find that everything was shut. 

I have figured out that the opening hours here are GENERALLY 9am to 12pm, and 4 to 11ish pm. HOWEVER, there are 6 big daily prayers which means everything shuts for about 20 minutes, 6 times a day. And to add to the confusion, the prayer times change slightly every day. The advice is: wherever you go, bring a good book.

Coffee shop in a mall

As it turns out, the shops in this mall open slightly later than other malls so I decide to go and look for the ‘Ladies Floor’, locate the coffee shop we’re meeting at and generally have a bit of a nose around. I find a lift that says ‘Women Only’, and figure that has to be a good start. I press the button that says ‘Women Only Floor’ which ends up being just one level up. The doors open and I see a sign saying that all face should be uncovered for ‘security reasons’ and I also see a couple of female security attendants, NOT wearing an Abaya (first time I see a woman wearing normal clothes outside of a compound). Their job is to prevent men from sneaking in. A man was arrested recently for disguising himself as a woman! He was wearing an abaya and niqab (face cover) and was trying to get into a mall (single men are not allowed in malls).

I do a little tour, past Saks, past Debenhams, past the woman’s only bank, and notice there is no view downwards, and the floor is well shielded from prying eyes from the lower floors. But I’m surprised to see that all women (apart from the workers) keep their abaya on, and some even wear their niqab. I don’t understand why. This is a completely safe environment without a man in sight. But I’m told that they are worried that someone might secretly take photos (there is indeed a sign that states no photography, specifically with mobile phones).

Nevertheless I try not to stare at the few women that have taken off their niqab. So far, all I’ve seen of Saudi women were eyes (if lucky, many cover themselves completely, and wear black gloves and socks, literally there is not a micro millimeter of flesh showing). The only women I’ve seen out of an abaya are the ones on the compound, at school or on this floor. But they are not Saudis. They are all foreigners. So it’s quite weird to have been here six weeks and not seen a single female Saudi face. I notice that the women (looking discretely sideways) wear quite a lot of make up but it’s not ostentatious, and it’s done in good taste.  But I do also see a Saudi woman walk past who looks a bit like a punk (my first female Saudi rebel), and another that looks like a boy (very short hair – perhaps another rebel). But overall the women I see are good looking, elegant and very well groomed. Just like me then, hum… With my un-manicured hands, al fresco dried hair, 10 second morning make up ritual, cheap sunglasses and gem-free earlobes. I feel like a granola bar type. Natural in an unattractive way! But as I said before, I am NOT VAIN, so I focus instead on my impending chat with my interesting lady.

She arrives a little while later and we start talking about life here, how to find out about what’s on (very little is published for fear it will be visited/closed down by the Muttawah) and her business (she organises children’s parties, on a big scale, and sells party accessories). She set up her business 15 years ago because she wanted to remain independent, both financially and emotionally, and she tells me about the challenges of running a business here (all her 25 staff are male, and strictly speaking she is not allowed to go into HER office or HER shop, but she still does of course). The problems with customs. Sometimes her shipment gets through, other times not. They recently confiscated an entire container of party accessories because they had “Happy Birthday” written on them. Islam doesn’t recognise Birthdays and they are not generally celebrated. Even though she speaks fluent Arabic, is married to a Saudi and has lived here for over 30 years, she still finds it hard to run a business.

I tell her how I hope to start another business one day, but in the meantime think I should use my skills and find some internet related work, in an advisory or consulting capacity. That’s when she mentions ‘THE PRINCE’. He’s been looking for someone like me! And before I know it, there is a meeting set-up. It all happens in the space of a few hours. Things happen either very slowly or very quickly here (or not at all), but nothing much in between.

So it’s confirmed, I am to meet HRH Prince ‘A’ (name abbreviated just in case the Muttawah are following my blog!) whom I have been assured is a true gentleman. He sounds particularly interesting because he has launched a new initiative called Women’s Skills Bank. A project which aims to bring together employers and skilled women, often expats, seeking work. I am quite fascinated that a Saudi man should initiate such a project and it certainly challenges my preconceptions that men here prefer women to stay at home. I am being introduced because he is looking for someone to help them launch a website and apparently I have the right credentials.

I’m trying to be cool about it but I’m actually VERY EXCITED. I know there are many royals here, but nevertheless, a private meeting with a Prince is no small matter, and whilst I strive to be modest in my endeavours, this is not something I intend to keep to myself!

I now have some preparations to make prior to the meeting. I have no idea about royal etiquette here (being only acquainted with British etiquette – yeah right), I’m not sure how to address him, do’s and don’t’s etc. It’s not exactly easy information to come by and my contact is not forthcoming. Yikes.

I do know some of the basic rules: it’s rude to show the soles of your feet (that shouldn’t be a problem!), to point, and to take things in your left hand. I’m pretty sure that I won’t have to leave the room walking backwards… But beyond that…

Also, I have childcare problems, I’ve heard that Saudis are not exactly punctual, and royals well, they are in a different league and so I have no idea if the meeting will start on time (probably not) and when it will finish. I have to plan to be gone the whole day just in case. But don’t have anyone to look after Rosalie after she finishes nursery. And I haven’t been given the meeting place yet. (hopefully his palace!). At least I won’t have to worry about what to wear (Abaya is the only dress code here). And I know I won’t be expected to wear the Niqab (I don’t have one anyway). I’ll need to buy some new shoes (my £10 black pumps have seen better days). And my trainers, well, let’s not go there.

My next posting will no doubt be after the meeting. Wish me luck. 

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