Let Me Tell You about this World

Entry Two & Three

Dear Diary…

So the flight ended and we entered the world of Saudi Arabia. The first thing I noticed wasn't how huge the airport was but what the men over there were wearing. I saw them on TV, but I never really thought they wore stuff like this everyday…

What were the men wearing you say?

Dresses.

They were wearing dresses. Long, white dresses.

Well, they aren't called dresses, they're really called Thobes. I know I shouldn't make fun of people's traditions, but they kind of look…strange. I remember Sally saying something about that, she also said that I would take a long time to get used to looking at men in Thobes because it's something new to me.

Anyways, we collected our things and went outside. There, we found a car with "Saudi Aramco" written on the right side so we knew that was our car. The driver, a middle-aged man with graying hair was leaning on the car wearing sun glasses. He was not wearing a Thobe, thank god. Just as he saw us, he smiled, took off his glasses and walked over to my father. He shook his hands and said, "Mr. Samuel Taylor?" My father nodded, "Welcome to Saudi Arabia. My name is Hussain Al-Mousa." He turned to my brother James and shook his hands, "And you must be James, right? How are you?" My brother smiled and said, "I am fine." Mr. Al-Mousa's gaze turned to me and I smiled, "And I'm Lisa!" I said excitedly, I extended my hand in hope that he might shake it, but he withdrew his hands from James and put it on his chest then bowed slightly, "Nice to meet you, Lisa."

Now that was when I became slightly confused, how come he shook my father's and James's hand but he didn't shake mine? Was something wrong with my hands? Is he a sexist? I became angry afterwards and stayed silent throughout the whole trip.

"My wife has cooked a great dinner in your honor. She hopes that you would join us." Mr. Al-Mousa said.

My father quickly beamed, "That is very nice and considerate of her. We would love to join you!"

I stayed silent and James thanked Mr. Al-Mousa.

30 minutes passed and we finally arrived at their house.

"This is it." Mr. Al-Mousa said and I found myself gazing at a huge three story house. I blinked several times before finally saying, "This is your house? Are you rich?"

Mr. Al-Mousa laughed and looked at me, "No, I'm not 'rich' as the rest around here who have 5 maids and 10 drivers, but I do have a maid and a driver and a big house, so you could call me 'rich'. My wife is a doctor and I'm an engineer, so…"

I wasn't really listening to what he said, but I think those were his words…

Anyways, he opened the garage door and we got inside the house. I quickly opened the door and jumped out. Not caring about my things I walked to the front yard where I froze at the sight of a magnificent garden with beautiful red, yellow, purple and white flowers, grass growing everywhere and a single tree that stood beside a small water fountain. The sight took my breath away, aside from the heat, this place seemed amazing. I looked around for a few more minutes until my eyes met a…chicken cage. A green chicken cage that didn't quite work well with the sight. I shrugged my shoulders and turned to the car in the garage where Mr. Al-Mousa was waiting with my father and brother. Totally forgetting about the previous events, I practically ran into my father's truck loaded arms and took half of the luggage from him. He smiled and said, "You seem awfully happy." I beamed at him and Mr. Al-Mousa lead the way into the house.

Just as he opened the doors leading to the main hallway, the smell of gravy reached my nose. It smelled oh so delicious! "Smells nice!" I said, a bit too excited that Mr. Al-Mousa laughed.

"This is the main hallway…" He said, "And that over there is the guest room." He pointed to a well-furnished small room. "You will not be staying there for tonight, but instead, Lisa will stay with my daughter, Zainab – if you don't mind that is…"

"Oh, not at all!"

"Good, Zainab will be very delighted, I'm sure. And you Samuel, you will be staying in the other guest room with James. We don't have many guest rooms unfortunately…"

"Oh, it's quite all right."

"Ok, if you would leave your luggage over there...yes, now follow me to the kitchen where we will dine!"

My father smiled at Mr. Al-Mousa, "You don't have to be formal with us Mr. Al-Mousa…"

"Oh don't be silly, call me Hussain."

"Ok, Hussain."

"And I'll stop being formal right now if you want me to."

"Oh please do…"

"Great, then follow me. I'm starving!"

He led us through the hall until we finally reached an elegant looking room with a single wooden table with 8 seats. I stood, dazzled by the sight and stared.

“This is our dining room.” Mr. Al-Mousa said. From behind him, a smiling face emerged. She was a lot shorter than Mr. Al-Mousa and wore a long dress. She covered her hair and neck with a colored veil. To me, she appeared like an angel holding a plate full of rice.

“Hello! You must be the Americans.” She had a strange yet cute accent. She smiled at us all and laid the plate gently on the dining table. Afterwards, she turned to our direction and bowed her head. “Hello Mr. Samuel. Hello James.” And then to me, she opened her arms and embraced me. That was strange. Her husband refused to shake my extended hand, while here I am being embraced by her. I’m not complaining. I kind of liked being hugged. “Hello Elizabeth. I am very pleasant to meet you.”

I returned the hug and then withdrew, “It’s my pleasure Mrs. Al-Mousa. Please, call me Lisa.”

Her smile grew, “As you like. Please sit down. Dinner is ready. Hussain habibi, could you call the kids?”

Mr. Al-Mousa then called the kids and down they came running. First came a chubby boy with face as red as a tomato, obviously, he was angry. The second he was in view of his mother he started complaining,

“Mama, Mohammed tagni!”

Whatever that meant… Then his mother just shook her head and told him something in Arabic. It was too long so I really couldn’t comprehend it. Later on came another boy. This boy was much larger than the previous one. Tall and VERY broad shouldered, but still, he seemed young. As in, younger than me of course… Anyways, so when he was in view he started talking in Arabic to his mother and brother while the three of us, me, my father and brother, just started with confused looks on our faces. Finally, Mr. Al-Mousa yelled at them.

“Kalas! I’m so sick of you two always fighting! It’s either that you shut up and learn to respect each other, or no dinner for you!”

That made them shut up. Afterwards, Mr. Al-Mousa turned to us and smiled.

“I’m so sorry you had to see that. My sons could be very loud. My daughter on the other hand is an angel. Mohammed, where’s your sister?”

Mohammed, the larger boy, only shrugged.

“This is Mohammed,” Mr. Al-Mousa inquired pointing to the larger boy. “He’s my eldest son. And this is Mahdi.” He turned his attention to the chubby red-faced boy, “My youngest.” At that exact moment, a tall slim girl, wearing jeans, long sleeved shirt and a colorful veil that covered her head and neck came downstairs. She walked slowly and elegantly. Queens looked like amateurs compared to her. Her father beamed as he saw her and quickly went to her side, “And this,” He said, in a very proud tone, “Is Zainab, my first child and only daughter. Zainab dear, these are Samuel Taylor, his son James and his daughter Lisa. Say hi.”

She smiled at us sweetly, bowed her head slightly and said in a very clear American accent, “Pleasure to meet you.”

We exchanged greetings then sat to eat dinner. Dinner was wonderful. Mrs. Al-Mousa was certainly a great cook! I must ask her to teach me how to cook sometime. Wow! Seriously, what a meal! No offense to my father or anything, but his cooking skills sucked. No wonder we were skinny and the Al-Mousa boys were not. They were certainly not. Yet, the girl, Zainab, was very thin. I wonder what she does to keep fit with all the good food. Well, she hardly ate today, but maybe she just doesn’t like pasta. Who knows?

I’m now in Zainab’s room. It’s big and pretty and the AC is COLD! Oh, here comes Zainab. I’ll write in you before I go to sleep telling you all I get to know from Zainab. My second impression, that is. My first impression was that she was an elegant, quiet and sophisticated young lady who might be very self-centered. I don’t know we’ll see…

-Signed,

Elizabeth Veronica Taylor

Dear Diary,

Zainab is asleep right now. We talked a bit and I found out that she very FAR away from selfishness as being far away could be. She very modest and kept on saying, “No, I’m not.” When I told her she looked very elegant in her veil. So what else did we talk about?

Well, first when she entered the room, she quickly ran to her closet, complaining about the hot weather, and changed in PJs. She then sat on her bed and motioned for me to come join her. She smiled at me excitedly and asked,

“So what do you think of Saudi Arabia so far?”

To which I replied,

“A VERY hot country in the summer…”

She threw her head back and laughed,

“Yeah, Saudi Arabia does tend to get hot in the summer, and in the beginning of autumn, and throughout spring…”

My eyes widened,

“It’s hot throughout the WHOLE YEAR!?”

“Kind of … we do get a few weeks of cold weather. We call it ‘winter’ around here.”

I laughed a bit, she was funny.

“What else do you think of this place?”

I thought for a moment,

“Well, the boys dress funny.”

She laughed at me,

“You mean the Thobes? Come on! They look nice in Thobes. You should see them when they’re NOT wearing them…”

“Why? How do they look?”

“Worse that Nelly.”

I looked at her in shock,

“You know Nelly!”

“Yeah, he’s an astronaut, right?”

I stared blankly at her …

She grinned,

“I’m kidding. Of course we know Nelly! We don’t live under a rock, you know. Sure women don’t drive her, sure we’re very retarded when it comes to people’s (especially female’s) rights, but we do know Nelly. I hate him though…”

I nodded my head slowly and looked away.

“Lisa? Is something wrong? Did I say something? Did I offend you? I didn’t mean to, I just-”

I shook my head,

“Oh no, it’s nothing. I’m just … I don’t know. I never thought you were, you know, like this. I thought you were … different.”

“You thought I was a very obedient daughter who doesn’t talk about guys at all, who would spend most of her time in the kitchen or cleaning the house, taking care of her brothers and the rest of the household and doesn’t know a thing about western music?”

“Well … yeah.”

She laughed. I thought she would be offended, but all she did was laugh.

“Oh GOD, Lisa, you are so funny! I like you already!” She patted me on the head, “All right. Sleep time. It’s already 11 PM and we’re supposed to wake up early tomorrow.”

I got up and opened my sleeping bag,

“Why?”

She lay down on her bed and closing her eyes she said,

“I have work tomorrow and you need to get settled in your new house.”

And off the lights went and off she went leaving me all alone, lying on my sleeping bag with a flashlight in my mouth, writing this wish much difficulty in a complete stranger’s bedroom, in a house that belongs to someone else in a foreign country a continent and a whole ocean and another continent away from my home land…

You know what else?

I am very happy about it …

-Signed,

Elizabeth Veronica Taylor