Posts in Letters from Jeddah

Far away from Mecca there is no adhan,

call to prayer gets lost in the distance.

Right before the sun sinks into the sea,

black bird sings his final song.

Together we wait for the day to end,

for me to break my fast.

And then, silence. At last.

In honor of World hijab day: thank you for supporting the right to choose. Thank you, for also not being silent when witnessing discrimination of women, who wish to cover.

Wearing a hijab in Saudi Arabia can be so easy. It presents a much bigger challenge elsewhere around the globe.

“Land for sale.” Not the building, the actual plot of land! Whatever plans our former landlord had last summer, something must have gone terribly wrong.

Tamer says that our old apartment building will most likely be razed to the ground with the arrival of a new owner. Who knows if that is smarter and more profitable.

I don’t feel nothing knowing this. Of course, I already said goodbye to the apartment which was our home from November 2019 to October 2022. However, another kind of goodbye came to greet me. Farewell, bright windows and the balcony on the second floor to the right. Farewell to the tree that still persists in a small concrete pool of earth. Farewell, dear stairs and so long to the flower pot that provided bedding for nobody’s kitties to nap.

Farewell.

Last summer we found a home for Maki, an abandoned house cat that we rescued from the street. Maki conquered a couch, a cat tree, a king sized bed and more from an expat teacher from England who, like many others, came to Saudi Arabia looking for new challenges and better earnings. It turned out we really clicked from the start, and we continued meeting up, not just for the occasional visits to Maki.

Janey mentioned to us that she wants to furnish a guest room, as she is expecting another family member or friends every now and then in addition to her husband’s visits. Her villa in a so called compound or a gated community for school employees, is fully furnished, except for one extra room next to the master bedroom. Although Ikea is also very popular in Jeddah, we proposed a better option: let’s all go to the well-known furniture district, where local carpenters make and sell beautiful pieces at two or three times cheaper (than Ikea and similar stores).

And so we went. We waited to pick up Janey first in front of her compound. “Oh no,” we muttered in unison when our new friend was walking to the car. No abaya, but a dress with a considerable neckline. No scarf. Before anyone gets upset, saying “yeah, SO WHAT,” take it easy. Saudi Arabia is changing, and Jeddah has been in the forefront for some time now, where the dress code is being “less restrictive.” But sometimes it’s still good to think twice about where you’re going.

Our mission was clear: to buy furniture at the best bargain price. With our female passenger in clothes that scream “I’m a foreigner,” the challenge was made a little more difficult. I don’t know why, it didn’t feel right to mention anything to her, not before or after. If we might have known each other for a longer time, I would have hinted to her in advance.

We attracted quite a bit of attention at the “Mahmoud Saeed” Market. A tall Sudanese man with long hair in a bun with a pale-faced woman under his arm and an Englishwoman with the widest smile next to them. An extravagant scene for all mustachioed and bearded furniture sellers from Saudi Arabia, Yemen and Afghanistan.

“Don’t look so excited. You have to seem completely uninterested,” I kept reminding Janey at every other store. She couldn’t help it. This is Jeddah, the real deal when it comes to Arabian markets, uncontaminated by global trends of uniform minimalism. It dawned on me. Janey is me three years ago. Janey is Misha in the first months after arriving to Saudi Arabia. Misha, who wanted to see, hear, smell everything that such authentic places in Jeddah have to offer.

Bargaining in an Arab market is a form of art, and my husband is an artist. Despite all our challenges, with a tenacious negotiating spirit, he bargained his way to a bed, two nightstands and a dresser with a mirror, as well as a mattress and all the bedding for outrageously low prices. Janey was practically skipping after each successful deal. She especially had fun at the dealer from Azerbaijan, from whom Tamer and I also bought a mattress and pillows back in 2019. Tamer has known the man for quite a few years, and the gray bearded Azerbaijani has a special regard for him, as they can chitchat in Turkish, which my husband is also fluent in. So Janey got a damn good discount from him too.

All is well that the guest room is furnished well. As a thank you, Janey invited us for dinner again soon.

Have you ever stopped and thought to yourself, how you are currently at a completely different point in life, in a completely different environment than you imagined you would be, for example, 5 years ago?

Your life’s story goes it’s own way. Whether it’s by chance, some divine plan, or fate, whichever you want to call it.

I never wanted a big wedding and all the stress that comes with it. I got married in a golden red dress in Sudan. Who would have thought? Certainly not me.

Then I moved to Saudi Arabia to be with my beloved. Just for a year or so, I thought. I’ve now been here for three.

I grew up in a home where we always had dogs for pets, now I can’t imagine my life without cats. It’s funny, when I look through my childhood photos, I notice how at least one kitty always found me on some trip or vacation.

I was not raised to believe in any god. Now I let the Creator guide me, and every day I am grateful for everything I have and what I can give to others.

Plan as much as you like. Many things can come your way accordingly. Be sure to put any so called failures into a folder labeled “it wasn’t meant to be.” You can do the same with ex-friends and unrequited crushes. It is reassuring to know that something better and more beautiful is coming your way, and that there is someone who is meant for you.

There are two green parks nearby, higher number of restaurants and small shops… There is also a bit more traffic on the busy road downstairs, and with it the honking, which cannot be drowned out even by the slightly better windows compared to those from our old apartment. Cats are everywhere of course, but we still drive to Cat Corner, as it is only 10 minutes away by car.

Luckily, we were able to take refuge at such a short notice in the apartment of Tamer’s boss, who has been away, abroad all this time.

Alhamdulillah for everything.

And so we were on our way. Packed everything, except for the furniture, which we successfully sold.

We did not decide to rent a van or any moving company. Every day we drove to the new temporary apartment, leaving our stuff there, bit by bit.

In our last week before handing over the keys, I noticed a puddle of water in the kitchen. And then a big wet stain on the ceiling. Perfect, we’re abandoning a sinking ship. Tamer immediately informed the owner about the flooding, which was the result of the now obviously ill-conceived renovation of the floor above us. Can you imagine, he had the audacity to almost double the rent?!

Observing what was happening in the building, we realized that two more families had moved out of the apartments. Not to be petty… But in this case, our greedy landlord got what he deserved. A whole lot of nothing.

I predicted to my ever-optimistic husband that we were going to have safety deposit issues. “He will find a thousand excuses why he shouldn’t give it back to us. He has no money!”

Little did he know, we had an ace up our sleeve. Three years ago, when Tamer was about to rent the apartment, he sent me a video tour for me to have a final say. It had potential, but it looked like someone had left it in an indescribable hurry, cluttered and in need of a thorough cleaning. Definitely in a much worse condition than when we left it.

And I was right. The owner had quite a few objections about the things we had no influence on. He made the excuse that he didn’t know in what kind of state the apartment was when we rented it, that he had a real estate agent for that. What a good landlord, Mashallah. After Tamer showed him the video, he went silent. We got the 1,000 Saudi Riyal deposit back. Alhamdulillah.

When I first realized that we had to move out, I felt terrible. But after everything we’ve been through in recent weeks, leaving was a kind of relief. It must have been the right thing. It was time to move on.

It started raining yesterday morning.

“Alhamdulillah,” we exclaimed. We haven’t seen any rain in months. In just a few hours, the premature romanticization of the desert city’s rainfall on social media turned into serious coverage of an oft-repeated nightmare that has plagued Jeddah for more than a decade.

The amount of rain exceeded that of 2009. It does not happen often, but in those rare cases, all the shortcomings of the infrastructure of the city of more than 4 million people materialize. After each such event, criticisms and calls for responsibility come to the fore, followed by assurances about solutions and investments so that the damage and victims would not be repeated.

At least two people lost their lives yesterday. They say that the rainfall and with it the floods reveal all the corruption and empty promises of the local authorities, who are still waiting and delaying anti-flood measures. Where is the Vision 2030, the residents of Jeddah and the surrounding region keep asking. Rain really does not visit often, but every few years it leaves too severe consequences for such an (self-proclaimed) advanced urban environment.

Our district was not nearly as affected as some of the other neighborhoods from where we could see videos of rushing water carrying a river of cars.

We can count ourselves lucky and grateful that we did not suffer the consequences of yesterday’s floods.

How many more times does this have to happen? I couldn’t care less about NEOM and all the other high-flying ambitions. Existing old cities, which provide a home for millions of Saudis and expats, need investments for greater safety. But the caravan goes on.