The Saudi Diary: Columbus columbus

Columbus, Columbus
What Mahatma Gandhi is to India and Shivaji to Maharashtra, King Fahd is to Saudi Arabia. This piece of information we gathered last weekend, in a rather disgraceful manner. Here is what happened.
Like every mortal, all of us have a weakness (and unnatural attraction) towards “Sale”. And so when Carrefour ran a full page advert in the Arab News about a three-day sale, we were hooked. The smart guys had even given the map of the place. So come Thursday, the three of us set out to exploit this godsend opportunity in Jeddah.
It had three stores mentioned, all near King Fahd road. A road we travel everyday while going to office. So we were brimming with confidence that we would find it. Thursday evening (our weekend eve), the cabbie dropped us at a cool looking shopping mall but Carrefour was not to be seen. Here I have to dedicate a few words to the malls. These swanky, brightly (to the point of being garish) lit malls were mostly displaying revealing costumes for the fairer sex (The species does exist in this part of the world, I am told, though I haven’t seen yet). And like you, I was also wondering about the wisdom behind selling those skimpy evening gowns in such a conservative society. Then we hypothesized that females here would probably wear such stuff in an all-female setting (We are yet to come up with an explanation for this). And you would be hard pressed to find any menswear showroom. Wondering why? Well, keep guessing.
After that little digression, coming back to my story, this army of motivated sale-looters was not yet demoralized by a failure. Next day being the full day off, we left the hotel early and went to the other mall on King Fahd road. Now this turned out to a place where middle class Saudis (Saudis whose oil well just dried up on them) frequent. Naturally, Carrefour was not present.
Flustered, we asked the cab driver to look at the map and he said “Olaya Street? That street is in Riyadh”. Riyadh? I mean that was half world across. But hadn’t we seen a King Fahd road on the map of Jeddah. And then it struck us: Like every city in India has an MG Road, like every place worth its name in Maharashtra has a Shivaji Road (and a Shivaji Nagar, and a Shivaji Statue), every city in KSA has at least one King Fahd road. Hail the King! But who will tell us how sale in Riyadh had anything to do with the Jeddah newspaper?

The Saudi Diary: The beauties on the road

If somebody saw me stuck in a traffic jam in the rush hour in Jeddah, in the back seat of the cab, smiling ear-to-ear, he is sure to reach certain unflattering conclusions about my state of mind. And if it happened everyday, well, then I am surely going crazy. But what can a man do when faced with a situation where he is sharing the road with the cars that have been a staple diet for his day-dreams. I keep looking out and brands like Hummer, Audi TT, Porsche Carrera, Beetle (among countless other lesser marquees such as Toyota, Honda, Ford) keep me glued to the window. And I actually touched a Hummer (it was parked in the curb and I acted like I was accidentally falling). J I also have a mind to ask all those back home who criticize Tata Indica because it is now associated with being a taxi: would they buy a Toyota Camry. Almost all the taxis here are Toyota Camry.

The Saudi Diary: Of the Aspect Ratio

The reason mankind survives today is the fact that we were very fast in adapting to the new environment. Within a day of landing here, and after some 3 hours of cumulative car ride, my aspect ratio of life adapted itself to this country of Oil Sheikhs. And so when I suggested “that odd looking, bulbous small car” to someone, guy dutifully pointed out that “that odd looking, bulbous small car “, was in fact the Hyundai Accent, a car reasonably respected back home. And so I realized that my eyes had shifted to an aspect ratio of 16:9 from the earlier 4:3. Not that I can blame the sheikhs. They have never faced the rising fuel pricing bills. I am waiting for the day cars start running on water. That will be the day these spoilt fuel guzzlers will face the music. As of now, they are happy driving these expensive beauties on the smooth six-lanes. I am happy admiring them from the window of my cab, which generally, is Toyota Camry.

The Saudi Diary: The city

The city: Coming from the place (me, Mumbai-ite) where things don’t expand horizontally (well, except maybe one’s waistline), the bird’s eye view, quite literally, of Jeddah was a refreshing change. Things here seemed to be a little, shall I say, stretched. The drive from the airport to the hotel (Hotel Casablanca, no less) assured us that in this largest industrial port city of the kingdom, land was not a scarcity. The other assurance was that all of the humankind has had a common ancestor. Be it Bombay or Jeddah, driving habits are uncannily similar. Although the drivers here have the choice of giving you a mortal scare at 130-140kmph while Mumbai drivers, the unfortunate ones, do that at meager speed of 30-40kmph.