Showing posts with label Saudi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Saudi. Show all posts

Sunday, 7 August 2011

Help - The Beginning

I can't believe I haven't written for so long. I certainly do have things to write about. I went back into my old posts and saw some drafts, things I had written but had never gotten around to editing or publishing. I realised that to write about what I would like to fill you in on next, this old post would have to be published, just to give you some background. I had to laugh when I read this again, there was a time when I was so clueless. Hard to imagine, two years on and I see myself as a seasoned professional. It is long but hopefully entertaining and an eye opener in a city where hired help is a part of daily life. The saga takes place within the compound I live in in Riyadh, a guarded community where expats can imitate life at home as far as that is possible. This was written in about February last year, the beginning of our posting here, we are now already nearing the end.

It all started when Husband informed me that a housekeeper is nothing to raise an eyebrow at here. There are many women making a living this way in Saudi Arabia and many more people making use of their services. You can just imagine how excited I was. Except for stuff to do with the kitchen, I HATE cleaning. I thought everybody did, but not so, there are some women, some good friends of mine even, who love it. They find it therapeutic and rewarding. I on the other hand turn into a resentful beast when I have to clean. There have been times when after a hard day scrubbing, dusting and tidying, I've sat down in front of the computer to write Husband a strongly worded email about his domestic habits.

I am clearly a danger to myself and to others when I have to clean and therefore shouldn't be doing it at all. What I didn't realise is that finding good help is not easy and I am fast discovering that I am almost as bad at finding someone, as I am at the actual cleaning.

It all started with Daisy. Daisy was recommended to us by her cousin and was supposed to come over and take a look at the house to see if she could help us out with a bit of cleaning. The arranged day came and the doorbell did not ring. We arranged a second appointment. Two hours later than scheduled, I answered the door and there was a lady who introduced herself as Sally. Sally also worked at the DVD store but seemed somehow to have the time to help me out around the house for a few hours a week. Naturally, I asked her why her name wasn't Daisy but she didn't seem to know what I was talking about and since someone finally showed up, be it Sally or Daisy or Bill I was happy to share the chores. Sally, seemed nice. Her English was good, she looked the house over and offered to start in a few days. She also told me she was married to the guy who fixes the air-conditioning, so if I had problems I could just call her. Things were looking up.

Sally's first day arrived. I hovered around the door, waiting for the doorbell to ring. It didn't. In my excitement I had totally forgotten to take Sally's number so I couldn't call her to find out if she'd had some sort of mishap on the way to my place. It was around mid-afternoon when I happened to stroll past my front door and find a note in it. The note read:
'Sorry Madam, I am not feeling well today. I cannot come.'

And that was it. No future appointment or phone number. I never saw her again. I wasn't exactly going to stalk her at the DVD store, so I continued with the household alone.

One morning Husband rang me from work and told me to go and ring the doorbell of a nearby home. Colleagues were sharing there and were very happy with their housekeeper. I should just ring the doorbell and introduce myself to Mercy, he said. I rang the doorbell, no answer. I decided to try again, ringing the doorbell persistently. I circled the back and saw that the terrace had been freshly washed, I went back to ringing the doorbell, determined to meet Mercy. No such luck. Answering the door was clearly not part of her job description.

I went back home a little wearier than before, wondering how on earth I was going to find someone and then the telephone rang. It was a lady I had just met on the compound. She had a full-time house keeper, Violet, who had a cousin Ruby, who would be happy to help me out. I arranged a time to meet Ruby, a little less trusting this time that anyone would turn up at all. When the doorbell rang on the arranged day at the arranged time, it was difficult not to get just a little bit excited. I opened the door and there she was. She looked serious. We discussed money and what she would do. She was eager. Could she start now? Yes, she could. She had a few hours before her next job. Wonderful. Pretty soon, she was busying herself around the house making my attempt at house cleaning look pretty miserable.

Ruby came twice a week after that. She wasn't always on time, once she promised a morning time and sauntered in early afternoon. Her explanation? 'I'm just late Madam.' Hmmm... Ok. I accepted. It's not like I had any pressing engagements. She helped with  unpacking our shipment which had just arrived, with preparing the baby's things, she vacuumed very well and then... she asked for taxi money. If my pregnant self remembers correctly, this was on her third visit. Now, just think a minute about how fresh and new I am to all this. The request didn't sound right, but how was I to know? Perhaps transportation was part of the fee? The crazy thing was, the taxi money was more than her hourly rate. She was so bold in the way she asked I thought that maybe it was the done thing. So what did I do? I gave it to her.

It was around this time that I started venturing out more. Like I mentioned in my previous post, there were many new women to meet and I decided, with the house in good hands that I would go out and try to make a friend or two. That was fun and terribly informative. After a few questions, my uncertainty was proven correct. Not only was Ruby charging me more than others charged as an hourly rate, the taxi money was unheard of. People gasped when I mentioned what I was paying weekly.

This is probably a good time to explain that housekeepers do not cost a fortune here. That is how I tried to justify things to myself for a while but then I realised, this really isn't about the money. It is the feeling of being cheated. I was being taken advantage of. I talked to more ladies over lunch. The general consensus seemed to be to find someone new. It would be too strange, everyone agreed, to renegotiate her rate with her now. Then one of the ladies told a story about trying not to upset the housekeeper, as they might take revenge. She had recently found an expensive sweater folded ever so neatly in her wardrobe - burnt!

So, heeding advice, and not wanting to be taken for a fool anymore, I went about trying to find someone new. The new lady turned up on the same day I made the enquiry, promising to clean my house just as she cleans hers. I had made up my mind. Eventually, I made the call to Ruby. I explained myself clearly, I was finding her too expensive. She didn't argue. I thanked her for her work but told her I would need to find someone else. It was a short call but I made myself clear.

A few hours later the lady who had recommended Ruby to me rang. She sounded alarmed and wanted to know if anything had happened. What had gone wrong, why didn't I want Ruby anymore? I explained to her that she was too expensive, that I wasn't willing to pay taxi money. She asked if I would be willing to take Ruby back if I didn't have to pay for her taxi. But that was just confirmation for me that she was wrong to have asked for it in the first place.

I didn't take Ruby back, I would have felt too awkward.

It was at lunch a few days later that the phone rang and Ruby's familiar name came up on my phone. I answered without hesitation, not really sure what to expect.  Ruby was mad and this time she had a thing or two to say to me. She started off very nicely, How is Madam? She wanted to know. Was everything OK? Was I happy with her work? Did she steal anything from me? Had she done anything bad? Clearly, she was not over it.  Now, I didn't want to be having this discussion. It would have been a fruitless argument of her word against mine. I somehow ended the conversation with the clear message that she was not to call me again. There was nothing else for us to discuss. All the while though, I have to say, I was impressed with this lady's feistiness. She is definitely in the wrong line of work. Nobody wants an aggressive housekeeper, otherwise I would have hired myself.

Meanwhile, the new lady is OK. At first, because in some bizarre way, I missed Ruby, I noticed all the things that the new lady didn't do or did differently. But, now, I have become used to her. She comes on time and works hard. I do have a feeling that she broke the toilet seat, it was just the two of us at home and only her in said bathroom. Who else could it have been?  Maybe she stood on it to clean the windows? I suggested. But no. She was certain. It wasn't her. I won't worry too much about that though as long as my floors are shiny, I'm in this relationship for the long haul.

Friday, 9 July 2010

Camels in a ute

Literally. Just one of the many interesting sights you might see, driving the streets of Riyadh on the weekend.

Tuesday, 16 March 2010

Ladies Who Lunch or Fitting In

A lady who lunches. As most retail outlets close between 12pm and 4pm and most food outlets remain open, this is what I guess I will become. I accept my fate willingly. I like lunch. But first, one must have ladies with whom to lunch. Being new in town, it is up to me to go about finding these ladies and so far, the process has been rewarding. Firstly, there seem to be plenty of ladies around and luckily there are plenty of events organised in order to come into contact with them. One of these organised events are 'coffee mornings'. Usually held at the compound restaurant, this is a chance to find out who's new and catch up with the old. Sometimes, there are goods being sold at these events, giving the ladies an opportunity to spend. Another organised activity is the  'shopping bus'. The bus leave twice daily from my compound, providing yet another opportunity to spend but also giving women a chance to shop independently of their husbands and to visit a different mall everyday of the week. Of course, it is possible to get around with a driver but these shopping busses are well planned, in between prayer time and this make sense, seeing as everything shuts down for a good half hour during prayer time. There are many activities to get involved in. Cooking classes, reading clubs, sports and craft style activities are advertised constantly on a TV channel dedicated to telling people what's on. What I find that I am liking, is being presented with opportunities to do new things. I didn't do so many new things in Ulm so I didn't really know this about myself. A couple of days ago, I got together with a bunch of ladies and made my own beaded keyring.  Something I probably would never have thought to do on my own, but it was fun to be creative, to meet new people and led to me signing up for future crafty events. One of which involves ceramics and what did I tell you? Lunch. I tried not to make my keyring too girly, as I intended it as a gift for Husband, but it remains attached to my keys. Oh well.
The pressure is on to look good in Riyadh, which might surprise some of you, because women are cloaked in an abaya and headscarf when in public. This puts a whole lot of emphasis on the parts that people can see. The sizing up of who you are, lies in the type abaya, shoes, handbag and sunglasses you wear. The abaya is something I am clueless about but locals  are discerning. As an example, my current abaya cost about 150 SAR which is about 30 Euro. I have seen abayas that cost 2000 SAR (about 390 Euro) and have been told about ones that cost 6000 SAR (about 1,168 Euro) so, I guess the sky is the limit. I spoke to a lady the other day who confessed to wearing more make up here in Riyadh then she ever did at home. Somehow, covering your hair and clothes can leave your face feeling strangely exposed. There is an urge to make this one part of you that people can see clearly, look its best. When people can't be distracted from that huge pimple by that funky hairdo you are sporting, concealer becomes your best friend. I too must confess to regular manicures and pedicures since arriving. God forbid you step out in open footwear with an unpumiced heel or less than polished toenails. 
Fortunately for me, I (think) I can tick off the handbag box. Husband (ain't he sweet?) bought me one that should score some points (I hope) on the Saudi scene. I am however, still rebelling with the shoes and the sunglasses. I know that the 10 Euro H&M slip-ons are not going to cut it for long nor will the two pound fifty Primark sunglasses but I will hold out for as long as I can. 
Which probably won't be for very long  at all. Sigh.  The changes one must make to assimilate. What I am hoping, is that I will get lucky and won't have to pay full price for what I am quite sure will become a habit. My justification? Well, I have noticed designer goods are heavily discounted here when new season stuff comes in AND seeing as clothes remain hidden under the abaya, technically I don't really need to shop for clothes for the next two years. Right?

Friday, 2 October 2009

Plenty of personal growth ahead

Wow. No entries at all for the month of September. Which really has been worse for me than it has been for you. Believe me. It isn't like I haven't had anything to write about, I find sometimes strange being that I am, that I avoid Chilli Walter precisely at these times. So after a one month hiatus, I am back with some new realisations. One of them being, it doesn't matter how many times I check my own page. It is NOT going to magically update itself. So what's been going down? Well, the biggest news is that we are moving, leaving Ulm that is and going somewhere other. Not Sydney because that would be going home. Not Paris because that would just be way too perfect and of course, how can a person grow when life is just so all round perfect? One can't is the answer and obviously, I have lots of growing to do. And how does one accomplish all this growing? So that one day, when one is older, one can also guarantee (because we all know these two things don't go hand in hand) that one is wiser? Challenges, of course! Now, seriously speaking, I thought I had met and conquered challenges enough by moving to Ulm. By even entertaining the possibility that I could spend the rest of my life here. When I had accepted that, I thought I had achieved some pretty major personal growth. Clearly not. Clearly, the powers that be feel that I need to be cultivated even more. Perhaps and yes, I see things much more clearly now, I have been an ungrateful twat, living here, complaining about the fog and the lack of good Asian food. So much so that life thought, hmmm... why don't we send her to the desert? See how she finds that. And so, yes people, we are moving to Saudi Arabia, to Riyadh. Right in the middle of the desert. Yay! I can't tell you how much I am looking forward to doing it all again. Meeting new people, learning a new culture and a new language and trying to feel at home enough at least for the next two years. Husband has a new job and he is pretty excited about the whole thing and of course being the good woman that I am my first priority is to support him. Goodness knows he has always supported me in my ventures. But it is still difficult not to feel sometimes, just some occasional times, like throwing a shoe at him just because he is so chirpy about it all. I know it is important and that Husband's half full and my half empty make a very good balance but nevertheless there are times when my hands are just itching, my brain using all its powers of self-control to control that urge to throw. What am I worried about you may ask? Why not just lighten up and see what Riyadh holds for me? Yes, quite right this is the attitude I am working toward and I am sure I will get there. I am after all a highly adaptable person, I say Grüss Gott now for Pete's sake! It's just the things I have been reading I guess, and I have been doing quite a bit of reading to prepare myself for my time over there. Alcohol is banned in Saudi Arabia, and I do think this is terribly unfair as I can't imagine a quick shot of something would make the new surroundings just that teensy weensy bit more bearable. No pork either which doesn't bother me all that much really. One of the things I am obviously looking forward to is all the new food I will get to try. Foreign women must also cover up when out in public, which I have to say, strangely enough, is also on the list of things that don't bother me all that much. I mean, don't you have those days when you wish you didn't have to think of what to wear? Now, I'll be able to throw anything on and have bad hair days galore and no one will be able to tell because I will be all cloaked and veiled. Among the things that bother me is that society is totally gender segregated. I have read a bit about this but I think I won't really get the full idea of what this means till I am there and that is a wee bit scary for me. I am moving to a country that I have never visited, do normal people do stuff like this? There was an option for a weekend trip where Husband and I would get to look around and get an impression of Riyadh, but there were some issues with me obtaining a visa and we don't know if this can happen now. I think I would feel much better if I had some sort of first hand impression of where I am going to be living rather than going only with information that I have gathered from the internet. I am doing a German course at the moment though, and really enjoying all the contact I have with other foreigners trying to learn the language. There are quite a few Muslim guys in my course and it has been great talking to them about my move. When you tell a German person or any westerner that you are moving to Saudi Arabia it is almost like someone died. There is the downward glance that suggests they are very sorry to hear this most alarming news and then the quick cover up and a positive smile, 'think of all the things you will learn. How interesting!' One of my students, when I told her that I was moving to Saudi Arabia because of my husband's job, busted out with 'now that is love!' She could never do it. The guys in my class on the other hand are really excited for me. I have been able to tell them that I am pretty scared about the culture shock and they totally get it. But most of them are totally jealous of me. I am after all going to be living in the land of Mecca, where they dream of visiting at least once in their life. They keep telling me what a wonderful culture it is and how warm the people are and have already offered to help with my first Arabic words. I guess if these guys are anything to go by, I haven't got all that much to worry about.