As I’m sure most of you know, I have just returned to the KSA after my first trip back to the UK.
I have to say, being back in the UK seemed very strange at first. I already feel a bit of an outsider. Still it was wonderful to take in the lush green landscape (had plenty of rain have you???) and meet up with family and friends.
On my flight back to Riyadh I was seated behind two Saudi gentlemen whose behaviour astonished me. It's an example of one of the cultural differences between me and some of the Saudi men that I'm still struggling to get used to. I'm tentatively calling it the "Prince Complex".
When they arrived they rammed their hand luggage into the overhead locker, carelessly throwing around the bags that were already there. Why care about those next to you?
As soon as they sat down they immediately reclined their seats all the way back. Or at least they tried to. The seat in front of me was mysteriously broken and wouldn't recline (I have strong knees.) Why care about those behind you?
Their ghutras came off and were draped carelessly over the seat in front of them. Why care about those in front of you?
Every few minutes they called for the flight attendants because this wasn't right and that wasn't right. I could see the attendant's eyes roll every time they walked away. No one else is as important as me.
When they tried to purchase some duty free goods and the attendant explained that the airline didn't accept Riyals (Saudi currency) they believed that complaining about it constantly would suddenly change the airline's policy. Don't you know who I am?
Their behaviour cast a cloud over me and the mixed feelings I had regarding my return to Riyadh. I was looking forward to being back on the compound, looking forward to serene Thursday morning shopping, dreading driving on the roads, wondering when I'd next have a nice glass of wine, and finally of course dreading immigration and customs.
I don't really know why I dread them so much. They've never once treated me badly. In fact my experiences with American and French customs and immigration have been far, far worse than my experiences in KSA. Oh and did I mention Eygpt? It’s the only place in the world where the immigration official has asked me for a bribe!!!!
By the time I reached immigration in Riyadh I had been travelling for about 17 hrs in total. I was wondering what they'd do with the DVDs I had with me. They were all mainstream movies and TV series and I assumed they contained nothing that would offend. Of course, having not watched them and knowing a little about what can be deemed offensive here I couldn't be absolutely sure.
After the traditional jockeying, elbowing and wrestling at the luggage carousel I picked up my bags and joined the queue for the X-Ray machines. My mouth went dry.
I was so tired and we just wanted to go to bed. The last thing I wanted was to have to sit with the customs guys whilst they watched all of my DVDs. I made a mental note to pack some popcorn on my next trip back to Riyadh, just in case.
I hoisted my suitcase onto the belt and watched nervously as it made its tiny but crucial journey.
Customs: You! Open that suitcase!
My mouth went even drier. My tongue seemed to be sticking to the roof of my mouth. I started mentally counting how many DVDs I had brought with me.
Customs: Show me the bottle!
Customs: The bottle! The bottle! Show me the bottle!
I calmly searched for the bottle of Oman Honey I’d picked up at Bahrain airport as its the only bottle Ive packed.
Despite the fact that customs was very busy he was actually polite and he even cracked some jokes.
Mr Saudi Customs Man, whose name I do not know, I salute you.It's good to be back in the KSA.
I have to say, being back in the UK seemed very strange at first. I already feel a bit of an outsider. Still it was wonderful to take in the lush green landscape (had plenty of rain have you???) and meet up with family and friends.
On my flight back to Riyadh I was seated behind two Saudi gentlemen whose behaviour astonished me. It's an example of one of the cultural differences between me and some of the Saudi men that I'm still struggling to get used to. I'm tentatively calling it the "Prince Complex".
When they arrived they rammed their hand luggage into the overhead locker, carelessly throwing around the bags that were already there. Why care about those next to you?
As soon as they sat down they immediately reclined their seats all the way back. Or at least they tried to. The seat in front of me was mysteriously broken and wouldn't recline (I have strong knees.) Why care about those behind you?
When they tried to purchase some duty free goods and the attendant explained that the airline didn't accept Riyals (Saudi currency) they believed that complaining about it constantly would suddenly change the airline's policy. Don't you know who I am?
I don't really know why I dread them so much. They've never once treated me badly. In fact my experiences with American and French customs and immigration have been far, far worse than my experiences in KSA. Oh and did I mention Eygpt? It’s the only place in the world where the immigration official has asked me for a bribe!!!!
By the time I reached immigration in Riyadh I had been travelling for about 17 hrs in total. I was wondering what they'd do with the DVDs I had with me. They were all mainstream movies and TV series and I assumed they contained nothing that would offend. Of course, having not watched them and knowing a little about what can be deemed offensive here I couldn't be absolutely sure.
After the traditional jockeying, elbowing and wrestling at the luggage carousel I picked up my bags and joined the queue for the X-Ray machines. My mouth went dry.
I was so tired and we just wanted to go to bed. The last thing I wanted was to have to sit with the customs guys whilst they watched all of my DVDs. I made a mental note to pack some popcorn on my next trip back to Riyadh, just in case.
I hoisted my suitcase onto the belt and watched nervously as it made its tiny but crucial journey.
Customs: You! Open that suitcase!
Ahh bollocks!
My mouth went even drier. My tongue seemed to be sticking to the roof of my mouth. I started mentally counting how many DVDs I had brought with me.
Customs: Show me the bottle!
Me: *mouth stuck shut* Gnunf?
Customs: The bottle! The bottle! Show me the bottle!
Me: Umm?..
I calmly searched for the bottle of Oman Honey I’d picked up at Bahrain airport as its the only bottle Ive packed.
Me: It's just cooking honey
Customs: *hears* It's just blah blah blah.
Customs: *hears* It's just blah blah blah.
I showed him the bottle.
Customs: *reads* blah blah blah.
Me: *pointing at the "Honey" label* H-o-n-e-y……
Customs: *hears* B-l-a-h……
Customs: “Ok”
He wasn't in the least bit interested in my DVDs. They were on top inside the suitcase but the only thing that concerned him was the slightly beer-shaped bottle of honey. I was very surprised and now assume that they aren't concerned with single guy’s taste in movies. Perhaps next time ill try and smuggle some porn in…..maybe not!
Despite the fact that customs was very busy he was actually polite and he even cracked some jokes.
Mr Saudi Customs Man, whose name I do not know, I salute you.It's good to be back in the KSA.
Bloody hell! It's a bit hot, isn't it?!
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