arabian peninsula

I´ve gotten used to a few things after traveling some months in the Middle East. Starting in Lebanon and moving south to the bottom of the Arabian Peninsula in Oman, I now find myself in Arabic Africa, and a lot of familiarities have remained the same.

Islam and the calls to prayer: Without fail, there is always a mosque within sight, a towering minaret hovering over a little village, or a humble little minaret peering between highrises. If you don’t see a mosque, then you most certainly will hear one, during one of their 5 calls to prayer every day, starting before dawn and ending after sunset. The mosques never seem to be in sync either, so during each prayer time the calls echo from street to street or in each neighbourhood a few minutes apart.
Lack of alcohol and pork: Depending on the conservatism of each country, alcohol is either completely illegal, only available with a personal purchasing license, or only sold through western hotels. Pork was just as rare, since its very haraam (forbidden) for Muslims. In Kuwait and Somaliland, you can get hefty fines or even jail time for having a drink. Only in Lebanon, Jordan and Bahrain was alcohol and pork available to anyone (or sometimes only non-Muslims), but still not easy to find.
Cheap gas: the price of gas was a fraction of what it is in Europe, and even more than half the price of North America’s cheap prices. You could fill a sports car with premium gas for $15, or pay only 32 euro cents for a liter of regular gas.
Car friendly, pedestrian hating mobility: Side walks are nearly non-existent, and walking anywhere is weird, since the cities have been built for car traffic or those moving without cars are assumed to be of lower class or less money. Even buses were rare, since public transport would also mean the same, and everyone who’s anyone should be able to afford a car and the cheap gas. This causes a lot of traffic, round-abouts, impassable highways and crazy drivers. And it doesn’t help that they like to drive oversized American SUV’s and Japanese Land Cruisers as if they were in an Aston Martin (this comment applies mainly to Saudi drivers).
Security, Security: The middle east is just as paranoid of terrorism as any European or North American place (if not more), and random searches, road blocks and checkpoints are a regularity. Passing through airport security as a woman was a little less hassling, since we don’t have to strip down to our socks and undershirts, but a handheld metal detector may still scans us before entering a mosque or supermarket. In Somaliland, you need to hire an armed military guard to accompany you on any trips outside of the city capital, Hargeisa.
Endless Construction: Oil money has poured into the Gulf countries, very recently, quickly, and heavily, and its like they don’t know what to do with it other than build and develop. In Kuwait they regularly build something just to rebuild or redesign it, and some can’t build without destroying something first so these places are in a constant dusty state of being torn down and built up. And I mean up, up, up into the sky, sky scrapers that compete to be the tallest in the world. And the places they tear down sometimes have to be cleared to prepare the lot, so rubble is driven out of the city and in Qatar, they’re literally building a mountain out of it.
Over-Perfuming: People literally cover themselves in perfume, and its not just eau de toilette, but ‘oud’, a kind of oil de toilette, so it lingers longer and stronger. It can be suffocating, for the entire time theyre near to you, and even if they’re walking past, a scent will linger, floating behind them for a few metres.
Socializing alone or at home: If it wasn’t for the shisha bars and Starbucks, people would probably just stay at home sending whatsapp messages, both texts and voice recordings, all day long. For those who don’t smoke or have had enough coffee for the day, alot of socialising happens in the privacy of peoples homes. You can order in food, stay comfortably dressed, and hang out with the gays or women that dont seem to show face in the public sphere alone. Since alcohol is a no go, board games are a sort of social elixir, the in thing to do with a bunch of nerds who prefer it to watching any more television (we watch a lot of flat screens and big screens around here).
Fashion: The men wear perfectly pressed, angelic white robes (dishdasha or thawb), with matching head scarves (gutra) crowned with a black rope thingy (ogal). The names change from place to place, as well as the colours (the robes can be shades of beige or grey and the scarves red or black checkered), but its always impressive to see how they flip and fold the ends of their traingular head scarf as if it were an extension of themself, like a head of hair to a woman. Then the women, wear a similar robe but more like a cloak, and usually black, called an abaya. Then they wrap their heads in a hijab, some cover their face below the eyes (a burka), some wear a sort of Zorro mask around their eyes (a nikab), and then there’s those who just drape their whole face with a sheer black sheet so they look like black ghosts floating around from far away. Things started to get a little bit more colourful for the women in the Emirates, and especially Oman, but nothing beats the African Muslim wear of a trillion bright colours adoring their dark, henna-tattooed skin.

I didn’t know what to expect of Kuwait, but everyone I spoke to before going seemed to expect something tough and dangerous. I didn’t do any research on tourism or traveling there, but I knew I was visiting a friend that would answer all my questions once I got there. I knew Nima from university days back in Canada, and though he’s Iranian, he’s lived half his life in Kuwait and lives there now with his American wife and son. I thought they’d be an exception, but there were dozens of international couples and even more North American raised or educated residents and ex-pats.

patriotic graffiti at the souk

The surprises started as soon as I landed. It was the middle of the night, but we drove to a neighbourhood of mansions where I was shown to their home’s guest bedroom, outfitted with a welcome package of toiletries, snacks, and my own pyjamas. Their house was more like a private apartment complex, with an elevator connecting the 4 floors. His family lived on the top floor, his brother below, his parents on the ground floor, and the driver, maid, nanny and cook in the basement, where they also had a gym, pool, and hottub. There was a library too, but it looked more like a museum of fine china, oriental ornaments and exotic collectables.

“I love Kuwait”

I soon learned that Kuwait is one of the safest and richest countries in the middle east, quickly rebuilding and developing itself since Iraq finally left them alone. They have one of the lowest unemployment rates in the world, and many jobs and even land are given by the government. They’ve also perfected a sort of modernized slavery, an economy of servants and workers imported to help the upperclass people avoid any undesirable or mundane tasks. Today Kuwait feels more like Southern California, with every American restaurant or coffee chain accessible from multi-lane highways filled with oversized Ford trucks or shiny Dodge sports cars. All the cars are shiny, since having a dusty car means you don’t have someone to clean it every day, which is an impressive feat in a desert country where dust falls constantly. There are also more Landcruisers and Toyota Landcruisers per capita than I’ve seen anywhere else, and just in our parking lot there were 5 cars, including a Bentley and Nima’s buttercup yellow BMW M3.

checking out the horses at the Kuwait Riding Club

But not all things are so modern in Kuwait, a country where some of the most conservative Muslims rule the country. There was even a call to prayer at the Kuwait International airport when I was flying out, a sound that’ s become all too familiar starting at 4 or 5 am and repeating itself throughout the day. Pork is illegal, and a luxury commodity for any ex-pats who manage to smuggle in some jamon Iberico. Alcohol is very illegal, for everyone except ambassadors, and those who manage to buy any off the black market pay an extraordinary premium. Other things, like gasoline, may as well be free, since the price for on liter of gas is more expensive than a liter of bottled water. I guess this helps people afford their gas-guzzling cars and other expensive hobbies, like horse-back riding which they do very well. I visited one riding club and don’t think I’ve ever seen so many beautiful, fit, well-groomed horses at one stable. I wanted to stay forever, but I don’t think the Indian or Pakistani grooms would have liked me trying to compete for a job.