Denied by One, Embraced by Another

I often dream of going back to Saudi [Arabia]. And one year it almost happened while I was working on the environmental permitting of an international underground fiber optic cable project. The cable was designed to snake from port to port through the waters of the Middle East. One of the cable landings would be Jeddah, Saudi Arabia. A site visit was needed and therefore a visa to enter the country.

Despite that it would not at all be like returning “home” (Jeddah is by the Red Sea; I lived along the Persian Gulf), I got excited about the prospect of returning to a country that had monumentally changed everything about me and my life.

I wanted to again feel the intense desert heat. To hear the guttural sound of the Arabic language spoken all around me. To sink my teeth into authentic Arabic cuisine. To lay eyes on the shimmering of gold bangles and chains dangling in the windows of the souqs, if any still existed perhaps in the “old city”. To feel the magic of how the senses can transport you back in time to great memories.

But the flames of enthusiasm were quickly stamped out, and my heart sank as my eyes read the words that comprised an email about my visa application.

“You must be accompanied by your brother or your father to enter the country.”

Now, technically, that was not a denied application. But would my boss shell out the cash for my dad to chaperone me on a business trip to the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia? Me thinks not!

Disappointed but not surprised, given the rules for women in the most conservative Muslim country in the world, I carried on. I shared what had happened with a colleague who had once gone herself. She sneered as she recounted how her freedom to move about was highly restricted, how weird and scary it felt, and that she never wanted to go back. Somehow she got passed the rules, which in Saudi (and truthfully, anywhere), can often depend on who happens to be the decision maker.

I shrugged and didn’t bother to share how much I longed to go. Other friends had told me they have little desire to return because of how women are treated. And of course, September 11th happened and didn’t help Saudi’s image. I can understand and respect others’ choices. But me? I just wanted to go.

It’s not that I condone the restrictive policies for females in Saudi. It’s just that I had already lived in the country for three years. And as strange as it was to adjust to the unique local norms and rules, the discomfort was always well overshadowed by the abundance of adventures and interesting experiences I had otherwise, while living in Saudi as a kid.

As an adult, I just wanted to reconnect to my past. And because in the bigger picture for me, it’s about engaging with the world, including with those with vastly differing ways of life.

Not long after my dreams were shot, the Saudi project manager had been switched out. I had to start fresh and build a new relationship. Delightedly, things clicked much easier. More engaging than the previous PM, the new PM was perhaps a man more of the [modern] times. It just felt easier to chat and share stories. So that’s what I did.

I told him of the years I had spent as an adolescent in his country. That I loved the food and the beauty of the desert landscape and the aqua blue color of the Persian Gulf. How I cherish the experience and revered my memories. That I share my fondness of those years with dozens of friends. And of course, how I dreamed all the time of going back.

Next thing I knew, he extended an invitation to come and visit the project. And in less than two weeks, an approved visa arrived in my email inbox.

YES!

I couldn’t help but smile about what had happened. Denied by one, embraced by another, it taught me the power of engagement. That a mutual willingness to connect on a personal level, even with those who are different than us, can make what seemed impossible, possible. It was also a great reminder that despite the broad-brushing of people and cultures, there will always be those who rise above the stereotype with the desire to simply share in our common humanity.

Post-script: Sadly, I never made the trip due a change in job circumstance.

Photo: One of many reunions with my Saudi friends

#1world1people