3 arabian nights - foul medames

my companions on the riyadh trip were a odd bunch. in addition to tony, there was a dame, a baroness, and a woman who tony teasingly referred to as the “cunning bitch.” in a society where females were not even educated until 30 years ago, these powerful women found themselves having to recalibrate their behavior to conform to saudi customs, including showing deference to men (with moderate success) and wearing abaya (with style).

interestingly, most of the key positions at the research center are held by confident, well-educated, and highly competent women. some hailed from places like egypt or jordan while others are of mixed heritages, often with one parent from the west. many were raised in the states, including an egyptian who grew up in illinois. “egyptian-american,” she corrected me.

just as striking i suppose, is the fact that the highest-ranking woman at the center is pure Saudi, and the big knaafeh, the center director, is a man from the royal family. regardless, the ambition is palpable. they very much want to be a player, not just in the middle east, but the world.

from my room in the intercontinental i can see some of the most impressive buildings of the riyadh skyline, like the kingdom tower, the tallest in town with a stylized crescent stretched across the top floors, and the interior ministry, a diamond-shaped structure that glows like an ufo at night.

the hotel restaurants cater to the cosmopolitan tastes of its mainly business traveler cliental. my companions took refuge in “british tea,” as one of them explained to an attendant, and other familiar fares. but i didn’t fly half way around the world to eat spaghetti or salad from a nyc deli-style salad bar. i felt obliged to stuff my face with favorites like al-motubug and sambousik (meat & nuts-filled pastries), fakhitha bel laban (leg of lamb with yogurt), and stuffed kousa (marrow squash). for breakfast, i would indulge in a divine mix of labneh (cream cheese), foul medames (broad beans), chopped tomato, cucumber, pickles, cumin, and a squirt of lime, all served with warm pita and hot green mint tea.

walking the streets of riyadh feels like straddling two worlds: one bathed in the neon glow of international trade and western materialism, and just below the surface, the sepia-toned desert and codes and rituals shaped by family and faith. this tension made even shopping an elaborate ritual, nothing like the impulsive, primal game it is in the west.

“walk away if you want something,” one of my hosts coached me. “i’ll do the bargaining and get a good price for you.” he took another look at me and added, “just make sure he doesn’t think you want it.”

Posted by cellpharmer at May 1, 2006 04:46 PM