Touchdown!

My first impression of Saudi Arabia was that they sure have one hell of an airline. The flight from London to Riyadh on Saudi Arabian Airlines was a lot more pleasant than the one from Boston to London on American. Bigger seats. Better food. Free headphones (okay, they were the type of headphones that were common around 1986, but still, they were free). They even passed out warm, moist towels at the end of the flight. I know that this is supposed to be a sign of ritzy service, but I have to admit that I’m never entirely sure what I’m supposed to do with it. Call me old fashioned, but I was raised to believe that the towel is only supposed to be wet after you use it.

The guy sitting beside me was a Saudi. He didn’t fit the image that I had in mind. He was dressed in trendy clothes that would not have looked out of place on the cover of GQ, and he had that slightly-tousled/slightly-spiky haircut favored by male models. The overall effect was sort of “Queer Eye For The Arab Guy.”

His name was Abdulrahman. He was a student in Scotland, and he was returning home for a holiday. I have to say that he was exceedingly pleasant and welcoming, and spent a long time telling me about his country. Some of what he said surprised me. For example, I had expected to encounter a strong, possibly even oppressive, air of religious strictness. Not so, according to Abdul (as he insisted I call him). In fact, he said, in recent years the authorities had come to regard anyone who was overly zealous in their display of religiosity with suspicion. Even the dreaded Mutawwa (religious police) had lost much of their authority.

As we approached Riyadh, Abdul gave me his phone number and email address and insisted that I get in touch with him so that he could give me a tour of the country. I had read that hospitality is a big part of Saudi culture, but even so I have to admit that his warmth and willingness to open up to a perfect stranger was something I didn’t expect. Granted, it’s entirely possible that it was all a ploy to lure me into some kind of weird sadomasochistic sex dungeon, but I don’t think so. Besides, what are the odds of that happening to someone twice?

As the plane banked down over King Khaled airport, I got my first glimpse of the place that was to be my home for the next year. Out of the blackness, the lights of Riyadh twinkled like stars as far as the eye could see, from horizon to horizon. The city appeared to stretch on forever like some gossamer blanket spread out over the desert.

The plane touched down with a thud, and Abdul reached over, shook my hand, and said, “Welcome to Saudi Arabia.”

This shit just got real.