LIFE IN SAUDI ARABIA – PART 4

BOBBIN AND A WEAVIN

So it has been a while since my last post, which chronicled a glorious return to water polo, my favorite sport.  I am sure that previous post propelled people to wonder, “If he’s going to make his run for the Olympic Water Polo team in 2012, how is he going to stay in swim shape?” Well that is a great question my friends. If you’ll remember from my earliest posts, I have been blessed with two training pools in my compound. One pool is in the main residential area, and the second is inside the Al Hada neighborhood of the compound.  Yep, swimming is my ticket to glory road.

Swimming had taken a back seat to water polo the past 3 months, but with the Ras Tanura Team off competing at the World FINA Championships in Sweden, I had to admit that swimming needed to come back into my life (tear).

About 2 weeks ago I started heading back to the main complex swim pool, committed to keeping in shape.  I swim at this pool for a number of reasons. First, it is the closest of the two lap swim pools, and when the temperature is holding steady at a sweet 112 degrees, you don’t walk any farther than you have to in any given stretch. Secondly, being in the main compound, the pool is next to the main office and the supermarket. At the main office I can drop off my dry cleaning and pick-up a few movies (free rentals on the compound!). If the swim practice is tough I can grab a jug of water for a measly .80 cents – one of the big waters, not those whimpy little personal bottles. Finally, the main pool is used by the Oasis Swim Team to practice, so lane ropes will often be set-up and, if lucky, the flags for backstroke (not that those matter because I’m going so slow into the wall anyway).

So off to the pool I go and to give you an idea of the trip I’ve provided some live point of view shots.

Here is the view while still walking in my compound, Al Sanad. This is our pool, a weak pool for those of us training for gold medals. There is usually a couple of local guys gagging some laps out here…I just wave and walk on by…I have no time for the pleasures of “cooling off”!

Out of my compound and into the main compound I go. There is a long cement stretch before I turn into area where the pool resides.  On the weekend, when the sun lights this puppy up, it is about the longest 100 yards in memory. My sweat glands have their own sweat glands just for this walk.

Into the compound and towards the pool I march. My inner self has tried to produce reasons for “passing on the swim just this day.” Nope. My will is too strong. Like the light at the end of the tunnel, my fitness awaits…THE POOL ENTRANCE…

Then a small stair climb and AAAAAHHHHHHH…(background angels singing). The pool in all its majesty presents itself.

A changing room, air conditioned, provides some relief from the brutal heat.  I actually have to walk the back of my t-shirt up over my head when changing because so much stickiness has invaded me. It’s awful. But no worries; I hit some basic stretches (arm swings, neck rotations touch my knees with my fingertips) and then into the pool I go.

2 weeks ago I followed this routine on a particularly hot day. 5 minutes of stretching and I was ready to go. I dipped my toe in the water and felt nauseous. The pool was warm! I slithered into the bathtub-like water and felt sick. It was warmer in the water than it was outside! Well warm water wasn’t going to stop me, so I headed off on my 1,000 meter warm-up; that is until my face was ready to melt-off at 500 meters. I could hardly breathe, and I felt like taking a nap right there in the water. At 500 meters I popped-up and let the fresh 112 degree air cool me off. This wasn’t going to work. For 4 more days I tried the pool, hoping, praying that the water chiller would be turned-on…but to no avail. The pool was getting warmer everyday as the sun beat down on it. After day five I was defeated. I had to find another place to train.

My old friend Dennis Bell (Dennis introduced me to the water polo team at Aramco) had once mentioned to me that the Al Hada complex had a nice pool that was cool. I had to try. So the next day I committed myself to the extra 1/4 mile walk to the Al Hada complex.

Like the initial phase of the walk from my compound, the Al Hada just entails an additional stretch of cement. I was trucking down the middle of the street because traffic is light in the compound.

As I approached the turn into the Al Hada complex I noticed some ducks and geese in a little pool alongside the road. Just as I was marvelling at God’s loving creatures, the big papa goose looked at me and lowered his head down like a raging bull. Hm, that’s a little freaky; then this jerk takes a few aggressive steps towards me, but now he’s hissing like a snake and bobbing his head back and forth slowly. Why so much anger and aggression my webbed-foot friend. These big daddy geese can pack a mean bite, so I whip out my towel (with swimsuit and goggles wrapped inside) and stomp 2 unconvincing steps towards the feathered bully while waving my towel weakly above my head; I am positive that I looked like I was engaged in a new rain dance.  At this point, frozen by my darting moves, he stops, raises his head, tilts it slightly away from me, beak pointing up, all the while keeping his eyes on me. Then his mouth opens and he lets out and even greater hiss. So I stomp back at him and swing my towel. This finally gets him to back-up off the microphone, but he’s still strutting and watching me as I pass along to the compound. When I pull up to the security gate at the Al Hada complex I see the security guard smiling and waving at me. Yep, he was watching the whole heavy weight bout, and I am pretty sure he wasn’t impressed. In fact, it must have brought some needed joy to an otherwise boring day in the security booth. I made my way to the pool at Al Hada and jumped into very cool water. I wasn’t going back to my other pool until they fixed the water chiller in it. This pool was it, but I’d have to figure out how to contend with the Guarders of the Gate.

That night I spoke with my parents. I told my Dad about my bird encounter and he just laughed. “Yeah, those big honkers are territorial (laugh again). Just run after him and he should back off.” Ok Dad, you got it. Plus, the pool is so nice; I have to make it work. This time, prior to my heading out, I am religious about towel preparation. My defensive weapon has to be ready to go.

Pre-wrap.  Focusing on a tight roll.

Post-wrap.  Ready to swing.

I head out for the pool, towel in hand. On my way I see a cat in the compound. The cat stops for a photo.

This cat just stared at me. It didn’t move in fear or angst whatsoever. Am I sending off some chemical signal that the impending second round with my feathery orange-beak enemy has me slightly nervous? Apparently this cat felt so.


Off to Al Hada.  Here I need to make sure everyone gets the full lowdown on the layout.  First is the pre-approach.  I make sure my towel is ready to go.  In the distance, the honkers are brewing for a fight.  You can see him on the road to the right of my towel in the picture.  Look at that little guy.  He's in the road!  Stay in the water area please.  The little white guard shack, serving as the VIP box seats is in the background.

I walk closer, slowly.  This time it’s a different honker, but lo and behold he goes through the same motions! But I am ready this time and take some manly steps towards him and swing my towel. The difference this time is that the bout was then interrupted by a few people. First, a local maintenance worker pedals on by, right as I’m popping my weave moves. “Hi sir” he waves to me. The goose doesn’t even break stride, but the bicycle had allowed me to get outside of Daffy's territory somewhat. Thinking blog entertainment, I stop for a photo. The honker starts to hiss again. That is when I realize that a car has pulled up on the road and is watching this whole dance while waiting to proceed. I guess he thought I was taking some professional pictures with my phone and didn’t want to interrupt. Maybe I was...I got the whole lot of them in this shot.

Either way, the driver also saw the bobbin and weaving, but instead of a “Hi sir” wave, he gives me the old two finger hello while hands are on the steering wheel. Too cool for school I guess. Once again, the show for the security office must have been amazing. Another smile and a wave and into Al Hada I go.

The last 100 yards of the walk to the pool are long, but peaceful because no animals are trying to attack me.

Once inside the pool, the water temperature more than makes up for the treacherous journey I have just completed. Ah, the things we athletes do to train….

WATER POLO IN SAUDI ARABIA?

PART 1
OLYMPICS HERE WE COME!!

One of my primary goals in Saudi Arabia was to get back into shape. It has been a long, long, long time since I felt like I was really in physical shape. I wanted to lose weight in Saudi Arabia to be sure, but I also wanted to be in real shape, not just 30 minute work-out shape. So when I started looking at compounds to live in I always checked to see if they had a good swimming pool. Yep, swimming would take the cake any day over running, biking, walking, weights, etc. Well the Oasis has a magnificent pool that is actually used by the compound swim team to train – more to follow on the Oasis in posts to come.

From my first weekend in Saudi I hit the pool. I’ll never forget those first 5 days. A 200 (8 laps) swim felt like a sick form of torture…sloppier and sloppier strokes each lap, huge breaths like toddlers when they’re learning to swim and breathe, hips sinking quickly towards the vertical state, and massive lactic acid build-up. At the end of 8 Iaps I would lunge for the wall like a drowning man, pop my head up like a Contra Costa Free-Swimmer, suck in a huge breath of O2, and there would be the pool cleaning guy, smiling and waving, “Hi sir.” Take that stupid pool cleaner and shove it!!!! It was awful, but I committed to add four laps a day to my swim work-out every day and I stuck with it. Pretty soon I was kicking off with a 1,000 meter warm-up and working in real sets. Each week I felt lighter and stronger in the water. I started adding sets of 100s (4 laps) and 200s (8 laps) in combination, IM sets, sprint sets…Matt Biondi is my name and swimming is my game! OK, not quite. There is still lunging going on and big, gasping breaths, but with much more justification now.

Well it took about 4 months of Oasis swimming for me to get to a place where I remembered why I always struggled with swim work-outs –I finally hit a place where I didn’t want to add any more yards. I would hit the 50 minute mark pretty tired and just didn’t want to swim anymore. It takes incredible personal discipline and drive to be a swimmer (shout out Lincan) and I just don’t have that kind of drive. You have to be willing to push through the pain, and alone in my case; it is usually easier to push along with other people swimming. Nope, I had hit the wall and wasn’t going to push much further. This was compounded by the fact that the Oasis ownership didn’t see a real reason to keep the chiller on as we moved into summer. A couple of times I got into the pool and the temperature was 88 degrees! It felt like swimming in a bathtub and just totally drained any energy I had; not good when extra yardage is already being questioned (On a side note, it gets so hot here in Saudi that they actually have to cool the water!).

It was about this time that I ran into a Monday night swim group at the Oasis. I was usually finishing my workout at 7pm, right when they were arriving to start their swim. For the most part, they were average swimmers just getting in a nice workout alongside friends, but there was one gentleman who seemed out of place. He jumped in without goggles on and swam a loping head-up style. It was a water polo player’s stroke. I didn’t think much of it past that evening, but the next weekend I was finishing my set when this gentleman arrived at the pool to work-out alone. Out of nowhere, as I heaved in gobs of oxygen after my toughest set, he introduced himself as Dennis Bell. Then he asked the greatest question I’ve heard in years. “Do you by chance play water polo?” What? Excuse me? “Of course…well I played water polo, but haven’t for 8 years.” “Well we have a team at Aramco and you just struck me as a guy who probably played water polo.” “Well, I know I’m pretty dynamic in the water, “lightning fast” if you want to call it that…” OK, just kidding. I just sat there in the water with a dopey grin on my face. He continued on, “If you want to play with us we practice on Tuesday evenings, Thursday and Friday mornings. In fact if you want to go tomorrow I’ll pick you up at the gate around 7:15am.” I was giddy as a school girl and couldn’t wait. Only God could plant this type of scenario in Saudi Arabia…what would make this guy just come out and ask, after showing up at the pool on a weekend night at the same time I was there!

The following morning I went to my first practice at the Aramco pool and met an amazing group of guys. Turns out that this Aramco team competes in the 50+ age group at the World FINA Masters Tournament every two years; in 2008 they headed to Australia to play, and this year they are heading to Sweden. This wasn’t some fly by night outfit of guys hacking through the pool. No these guys knew the game pretty well.

Thursday and Friday (my weekends) we practice early AM at Aramco. We usually get 12-14 guys at practice so we can actually full-court scrimmage. On Tuesday nights from 8-10pm we play a local club team named Etifat. We play at their pool, which is about 5 minutes from my apartment. Those games are usually pretty even. They’re a younger team (17-24) that swims like crazy, and we’re the slimy veterans who grab and hold all the time.

Our team is an awesome mix of nationalities. We have one guy from Iran who played on the 1976 Iranian National Team, one guy who played for Brazil, our Goalie (and best player) went to Cal in 1974 and played there, six guys from the United States (including yours truly), one from the UK, one guy from Australia, one from Saudi Arabia, our youngest player was on the Egyptian Junior National Team (he’s 26 now), and another player from Greece. It is a blast to play again, and perfect timing. Now I can mix in the water polo workouts with the swim workouts - the swimming has become much more enjoyable.

Top Row (L to R): Chuck Crew (USA), Jim Findley (USA), Me, Anthony Sawaya (USA-Ex Cal Hoorah!), Abdi Majdpour (Iran), Kostas Tsingas (Greece), Chris Heine (USA), Raul Murillo (Brazil), Haider Haj (Saudi Arabia)

Bottom Row: Dennis Bell (UK), Austin Brell (Australia)

This past weekend we played a game up at Ras Tanura, which is about 45 miles northeast of Khobar. I finally took some pictures of the team because they were all in one place. The action shot is a stinker – it’s actually not a real action shot at all, but you can see Anthony (goalie) pointing, slightly upset with someone - but more will be coming. The guys are in their final stages for training before their trip to Sweden and the FINA Championships. Two years ago they came in 9th place out of 11 teams, but they lost 3 games by a goal and were winning all three of those games at one point. This year there are 12 teams and they’re shooting for a top 6 finish. I wish I could play with them. Wish them luck!

After Sweden they come back to Saudi and we start over again for the fall season…yes, fall season. We have a tournament in late September in Qatar where we play against teams from Dubai (1 team), Kuwait (1 team) and 3 teams from Qatar, including their National Team (we lost 7-4 to them last year). That tournament is in a regulation men’s pool (30m x 20m) which will be a gagger. Most senior men’s tournaments are in 25m pools these days unless it’s International competition, 20-35 age group, or NCAA. We’ll struggle with the swimming in that tournament but we’ll weasel our way through it. More importantly we all get to play together in Qatar as it is not age-based. There is also a big tournament in Saudi in November with some really good teams from the Western Province. We’ll see how that goes. I feel like I’m back in summer water polo again…

I can’t express how blessed God has made me. I gained 10 friends in a span of two weeks, and I’m playing my favorite sport of all time. Awesome, just awesome. As we cruise along the next season there will be plenty of updates on this adventure.

A TALE OF TWO CITIES

This past week I was able to get out of Saudi Arabia and travel to a couple of countries in the region; nothing too exciting, just a wrinkle in the standard routine. My first stop was Dubai, to be followed by a trip to Muscat, Oman. As I trudged through airports and sat in traffic, I was struck again by how different the landscape in the Middle East can change from city to city. So this entry there are no high speed car chases or barb wire, but just a little glimmer into the different styles life can offer here.

Dubai an Emirate located in the United Arab Emirates (UAE). This is often confusing to people because Dubai is so well known, but when a discussion deepens with a person they ultimately realize they aren’t sure if Dubai is a city, a country, a county, an area or whatever. Well Dubai is one of the seven Emirates that make-up the United Arab Emirates. The other six are Abu Dhabi, Ajman, Sharjah, Fujairah, Umm al-Qaiwain and Ras al-Khaimah. Abu Dhabi and Dubai are the most well known of the group. These seven emirates make-up a single government that oversees the politics and policies of the UAE, with Abu Dhabi ultimately having veto power over the body. Abu Dhabi is also the wealthiest emirate, with large natural gas and oil reserves off its shores in the Persian Gulf.

Dubai came to fame over the past 10-15 years through a massive and rapid expansion. The Al Maktoum family, rulers of Dubai, undertook an intensive plan to make Dubai the new hub for business in the 21st century. Investment rules were loosened and a huge free-trade port and area was established known as the Jebel Ali Free Trade Zone. Companies by the 1,000s flocked to Dubai and set-up warehousing, offices and manufacturing facilities as a launching point to ship product to the rest of the region: Saudi Arabia, Qatar, Kuwait, etc. Along with the free trade zone came investment banks and other financial institutions, media centers and technology companies. The final touch was the creation of an almost legendary tourism business. Seven star hotels, exotic housing neighborhoods, indoor skiing, gigantic malls, and now the tallest building in the world, all sprung-up in Dubai. It is a playground for the wealthy.

As I got off the plane and walked into Dubai International Airport I was reminded why I am not a particular fan of traveling there. The airport is huge. I have had to walk from one side to the other and it is not pleasurable. The duty free area alone is as big as the average US mall. Two stories with all the major brands. Like a casino, the airport never sleeps. It is a major transit point for the world traveling east to west or vice versa. Flights leave at 2am to Singapore, 10am to Houston, and at all times of the day to London and the rest of Europe. Walking from one end to the other takes almost 45 minutes!

Once out of the airport it’s immediate heat. Dubai is a concrete jungle and can be very humid. Tommy Broussard, our Director of Eastern Hemisphere Operations picked me up and we headed to a lunch meeting with V&M pipes. Along the way I was able to capture some of the amazing sites.

Here is the Burj Khalifa, the tallest building in the world. This first picture doesn’t do justice to its height or massive base, needed to support the upper stories.  But this photo might put the height into perspective! This building is 2,717 feet tall…almost ½ a mile up! You can take a $50 tour up to the 110th floor if you want. I’ll stay down here on the ground thank you very much.

And if that still isn’t enough, here’s a professional photo taken of the massive building. Look at those itty-bitty skyscrapers around the base!

Check out the indoor skiing slope. That silver tube stretches back up the “mountain”. We’re talking chair lifts folks!

In Dubai there is no shortage of places to eat so we decided on Mexican food (yep, you start to miss burritos when in Saudi!). The food was excellent and our meeting was productive. We said our goodbyes and headed to Tommy’s house for some R&R before my 7pm flight to Muscat. I took one photo out of Tommy’s apartment. You can see another apartment building going up with a cool twisting architecture. The marina is down below. I'd say that Tommy’s home is quite different from the Oasis.

That evening I was back to the airport, trudging miles to my gate, and then catching a flight to Muscat. As a parting shot, here is an inside view of the airport in Dubai…this is one side of the luggage area, just for Dubai Airlines. If you’re flying another airline, you’re in a totally different area.

Muscat is located in the country of Oman. Oman is renowned for its peaceful, loving population and wise leadership. Muscat is very different from Dubai. It has carefully planned its growth by limiting building heights and colors. As I woke-up the morning after my flight, I took these photos from my window.

Muscat was my first adventure to the Middle East back in 2008. I took a load of photos on that first trip. Here are some of the more memorable ones.

Check out the Shanri-La Hotel - 7 wonderful stars without all the glitz and glamour.

Check out the beach in Muscat.  Very serene.  The water is very clear and people are swimming and fishing all through the summer.  This is right down the beach from the Shangri La Hotel.

Like night and day from the Burj Khalifa, Muscat is a sleepy little town in comparison. Unni Kizhake (our Project Manager in the region) and I headed to meetings with our local partners, a local pipe company, as well as some customers. It was a very productive trip that we capped off with some Turkish seafood. Here is Unni in a nice Valentine’s Day photo that Jack Mason made at lunch last year…ok, sorry, but there has to be some pranks and fun in every blog.

The next morning, heading back to the airport, I snapped another photo. Look how hard it is to get the buildings in the photo!

Also notice the backdrop of mountains. Oman is bordered by a mountain range which gives the country a totally different feel from the flat desert of Saudi Arabia and Dubai. It is very pretty, although it holds heat in like a microwave. Saudi Arabia has been around 106 the past week. Oman was running at about 111! You would think the difference was negligible at those levels, but trust me, it’s noticeable in a big way.

Oman is a wonderful place. I know the Middle East is not the garden spot choice for people’s vacation, but I highly recommend Oman, especially if you can tie-it to another week in a place like Thailand or somewhere in Asia. The people are wonderful and there is a lot to do in Oman, from hiking to lounging on the beach to shopping in the markets. I prefer Oman to the large cement jungle of Dubai, but either way it sure was nice to get away to another country for a few days.

Life in Saudi Arabia Part 3

WATCH OUT!!!!

I am following a few blogs these days and I’m always amazed at how funny my friends and family are when describing the oddities of their daily lives. I walk out my door every morning and wish for the same sort of high adventure: Novacaine, amazing home stories, moving, etc. Life provides some hilarious episodes and we only have to step out of our bodies for a minute to see them.


Here in Saudi Arabia, those situations tend to be more difficult to capture, not because they don’t exist, but because they are happening at hyper speed. Driving is the best example of this reality. So this is my first tribute-blog to the men and streets who make the dream of adventure come alive here in Saudi Arabia.

First, the rules of the road:

1. Do not endanger other people with your driving style.

That’s it...honestly.  More than one person have told me that this is the Golden Rule. Follow this rule and you won't get pulled over by the police.  OK, there are obvious traffic laws, but they all pretty much fall under THE rule of the road listed above. Basic traffic laws would consist of:

1. Don’t drive on the wrong side of the road.

2. Red lights mean stop, Green lights mean go.

3. Don’t exceed the speed limit posted.

4. Stop at signs that say STOP.

5. Wear your seatbelts.

6. No talking on the phone while driving.

7. Park in designated areas.

All sounds pretty simple until you actually climb into Blue Lightning and make your first go of driving.  Here's my stallion in this Thunderdome adventure.  A very blue Toyota Camry.

Once actually underway, the basic traffic laws start to unveil their true nature:

1. Don’t drive on the wrong side of the road – Unless you have to get somewhere easily attainable and no cars are coming from the opposite direction…at least not too closely on the horizon.  If it’s possible, make a quick stab at the parking spot from the wrong side so you don’t have to u-turn further up the road.  After all, less driving means less chance of an accident right?

2. Red lights mean stop, Green lights mean go – Well, red lights only mean stop when you’re heading straight. If you’re making a right turn, it actually means accelerate, pedestrians beware. If a light is red and you’re exceeding the speed limit (see rule #3 below) by at least 30 km/hr then better to accelerate even more to make sure you only miss the green light by 4-5 seconds instead of 10 seconds.

3. Don’t exceed the speed limit posted – This is actually just a suggestion. It’s highly recommended that you try and race everyone around you. There are awards for the fastest driver to nowhere and slowest driver ever, with the all time record being sub 10 km/hr on a freeway onramp.

4. Stop at signs that say STOP – Well only if you have to. If stopping means you’ll miss a break in the traffic to cross an intersection, better to coast through it. If a 4-way stop is encountered, the game of Chicken is automatically instituted.

5. Wear your seatbelts – Only if the PINGING sound in the car gets too annoying to stand. Otherwise, do what feels comfortable.

6. No talking on the phone while driving – That’s absurd. Nobody can find out where they’re going if they aren’t on the phone getting directions. Call as you will, but try and keep at least one hand on the steering wheel in case #1, #2, or #4 occur around you.

7. Park in designated areas – Well you just don’t want your car to get hit as a result of #1, #2, #4, or #6. Park where you can avoid any damage.

As I drive around these days, thinking about friends and family blog-moments I read about every day, I am saddened as one situation after another passes me by knowingly; see I can’t snap photos fast enough to capture the madness, and trust me, without a photo 99.9% of the planet is not going to believe the stories I tell. That doesn’t mean that I’ve failed in my efforts to pass a slice of Saudi driving back to friends and family though. Take heart followers, a basket of pictures awaits you.

First of all, the parking situation; I took this photo while heading to my car after work. See, in the morning I passed right by that car, almost sharing some paint because it was sticking out in the road so far. It might not look like much, but when the left turn is blind because of a big truck, having a car half in the road when you make the turn is a BIG SURPRISE! Just a note: This picture was snapped 2 weeks ago and that car is still sitting like that. Permanent parking spot I think.

Along the same lines, in front of me yesterday was this car. A couple of bothersome issues here: First of all, this car is probably 3 feet from the curb…at least.  I think he wanted to keep his car out of the sand so it wouldn’t get dirty. It’s not like sand is blowing all around us, all the time, right? This car isn’t parked sideways, partly in the road, like our runner-up in the previous example. Nope, this car is completely in the road. Second, you’ll notice the sand build-up to the curb. That’s what we call a natural driveway here in Saudi Arabia. The lot to the right is a parking area for cars, so most drivers try to keep the sand area open so cars can drive in and out of the lot without scraping the bottom of their car on the curb. Our Parking Champion however just decided to block the whole entrance. He’s the winner in my parking area for sure.

So let’s hit the road a little bit. The vast majority of streets feel like the log ride at an amusement park. There’s just that feeling that you can’t get outside of the track or you’ll bang into something. Most of the streets are one-way, like this one. There is not a sign telling you that; just the large truck coming at you when you make the turn. So if you don’t hit a car or person, because people are always wandering around in the lesser streets, you still need to make sure you’re going in the right direction. About people, you’ll notice about halfway down the street, on the right, is a mosque. After prayer time this street will have people everywhere, so best to avoid those busy moments and stay on the main roads if possible.

Exiting the freeway last week I noticed a taxi cab in front of me that looked like the rolling version of the challenge “How Many People Can You Fit In A Phone Booth.” It may be tough to count here, but there had to have been at least 4-5 people in the backseat and maybe another 1-2 in the front seat, driver excluded of course. I’m sure they were all wearing their seatbelts.

Still heading home I encountered another wonderful challenge: A lane that just ends so cars can merge into traffic. Take a look at the lane line on the road. “Well let’s just curve the line here and make this a shoulder! That way people exiting their offices can turn right, gain speed, and get into traffic…” Uh huh…and what about all the people going 50 mph when this lane ends? Oh, just honk and people will get out of the way. You’ll notice that the cars in this photo seem to be starting-in on their Drive Dance right when this picture was taken. The car on the right is truly driving about 15 mph while the car on the left is probably going 45mph. Everyone knows what is happening here, but the principle is incredible.

Finally I’m almost home. This is the side street that heads down to my complex. You’ll notice the large security door opening in the distance. This is the exit door for the larger portion of my complex. My home is to the right. Before I get to my security gate though, I get to zig zag down this street. You’ll notice the cement barriers. We get to veer side to side as we dodge each other down this road. The good thing is that everyone is driving very slowly for once. I actually took this picture from a stop.  Another quick note: That little white enclosure to the left of the security door is a military post.  An M-50 is propped up facing the road just in case someone tries to catapult their car over the wall like Lee Majors in the Fall Guy.

Finally it is home sweet home. My complex security door opens and I breathe a sigh of relief - another safe drive home. More from Mad Max in the weeks to come.  You can probably appreciate at this point that this photo was taken from my camera, not my phone...the glory of the color isn't just more pleasing to view, it represents the hallelujiah of all light when arriving home safely!

More to come in Saudi Arabia everyone...a call for water sports has been made!

Life in Saudi Arabia, Part 2

MMMMMMMM GOOD!


Part two of Life in Saudi Arabia! The food. I remember my first venture to the region: Oman in 2008. The last day of my visit our hosts took us to what amounted to a Lebanese casual diner named Automatic. Automatic is a chain that is located all throughout the Middle East. The food was incredible. Kababs, Tabouleh, Hummus, etc. Little did I know, but it was only the beginning…

I am going to dive into one restaurant here in Saudi because the description will take time. Just to curb any curious minds, we have everything here. Last week my neighbor knocked on my door and asked if he could borrow 50 riyals ($13.50). I panned my sight line past his head and noticed a Pizza Hut delivery man standing by his car waving at me. McDonald’s, Hardees, KFC, Domino’s Pizza, Pizza Hut, Subway, Starbucks, Applebees, Steakhouse, and many others adorn the strip malls, waiting to destroy another culture of its health. Indian and Pakistani restaurants are everywhere, and the food is amazing, although I am told that Dubai has better Indian food. Seafood is top notch here because all the fish is caught in the Arabian Sea (Just a note, but talking to my friend Nigel yesterday he said that you can see the bottom of the Arabian Sea when sailing! This is because it’s not only shallow, but also clear blue. I have yet to take on the Arabian Sea, but have been invited to partake of some wake boarding by a couple of guys at the Shoaibi Group. More to come on that…). So the point is that food is abounding here, but my Lebanese experience takes priority with this entry.

My first trip to Saudi Arabia was in the early part of 2009. Martin Pearson picked me up at the hotel at 8am and we drove together across the causeway and into Saudi Arabia. We met in his office for a while and then toured the building, meeting the people I would soon come to know as co-workers. Around lunch time he asked, “You hungry Matt…want to get a bite to eat? We just head to a little Lebanese restaurant down the street.” I was game, and thus began the love affair with the food at Wassan’s.

When you walk into the restaurant, the first thing that is striking is that it’s feels like a cafeteria. There are 3 rows of tables, 6-7 tables deep, and they are crammed together. People are in groups, chowing down on their meals, talking and laughing the whole time. To the immediate left as you enter Wassan’s is the cash register. No fancy exit/entry cash register; just a stand with a chair behind it and a guy working an old register. There are little containers of toothpicks and hand cleaner on the stand around the cash register. Behind the cash register is a raised counter that stands about 5 feet tall. This stretches all the way along the left wall of the restaraunt.  On top of this counter are huge natural juice mixers. The menu has about 25 types of juice available, from lemon and apple juice, to mixed drinks and ice drinks. About halfway down the counter top, the juice machines end their reign and an opening presents itself. This is where all juice exchange happens for both take-out customers and the wait staff helping tables. The counter top ends at the back of the store to a staircase that heads up to the family section of the restaurant – remember, only men eat in the main section. Women and families eat separately. The counter then starts up at the back of the restaurant and reaches around all the way to the right front of the restaurant. In the back right corner is a huge brick oven where the bread is cooked on the spot and the vegetable plates are prepared. Then the chicken and rice stands take over down the right wall, and finally immediately to the right as you walk into Wazzan’s is the shwarma meet; lamb on the left stake and chicken on the right stake. The counter here is lower – about 3 feet so the meat plates and sandwiches can be served to take-out customers and waiters.

At Wazzan’s, there is always a lot of activity; 5-6 waiters are always moving about the floor delivering fine food to the patrons. Upon entering, 2-3 of them wave their hands at you to sit in their area. No WAIT TO BE SEATED sign. You go with a waiter and he seats you, wipes down your table, and hands you a menu that opens left to right, back to front. English and Arabic are on the menu, but we’re definitely reading in Arabic direction. While pondering what to order, a plate of vegetables is brought out. Lettuce, cucumber cuts, tomatoes, carrots, olives, and peppers. These are finger food snacks that are a part of every meal.

About 1-1/2 minutes later your waiter is back, pen in hand, ready to take down your order. The menu has appetizers and main courses on it, as well as the long juice list. Any questions will be met with some stilted English, but you can manage as long as they don’t get frustrated with you. I go for the chicken shwarma plate every time. I used to hit up the kababs, but they got old and aren’t as awesome. The chicken shwarma plate is a plate of sliced chicken from the shwarma stake, which is basically a 20 pound slab of chicken meat rotating across a hot fire. The cook sharpens his knife and slices slabs of meat off the stake, pours it onto a plate, adds some onion slices, a little garlic dip and some tomatoe pieces, and presto, a shwarma plate. When my plate is delivered, I also get a few pieces of fresh dipping bread. These can be used to dip in Hummus or Muttabal (one has egg plant and the other peas as a base), or just to jam shwarma meat into and make little sandwiches. Finally my lemon juice and water appear to wash it all down. In total, this type of lunch that you see in the pictures below runs about $8, which isn’t cheap, but is a nice meal.

Nice chicken shwarma meat with some dipping sauce on the side

Check out those bread pieces...piping hot from the oven...and some nice olives (special treat that day)

In the evening, another delight awaits. A few nights a week I’ll treat myself to a take-out meal from Wazzan’s. I drive down to the back parking lot from home (about a 10 minute trip) and head into the same entrance, only this time I head right for the cash register. “Asalam alekum…marhaban. 3 chicken shwarma and 1 big juice. Shukrun.” For a whopping 17 riyals ($5) I get 3 nice wrap sandwiches and a large pomegranate juice. Again, not the cheapest meal in the world, but better than any fast food restaurant in the US, and healthier. When I turn over my moolah I am given two receipts: 1 for the three shwarmas, and 1 for the lemon juice. Then the wrestling starts. I take the shwarma receipt over to the counter where the meat is cut (remember that is on the right side of the room) and lay it down on the counter. Two cooks are working behind this counter, cutting and wrapping shwarmas: one cuts the lamb, the other cuts the chicken. Now when I head to this counter, it is highly likely that at least 4-5 other people, minimum, are waiting for their sandwiches as well. It is a madhouse. People come up and push into the front of the counter and start talking Arabic with their receipts. When that receipt is laid down, you keep track of it so you know when they’re looking at your order. Wait for eye contact and then raise your hand and tell them it’s your order. I have received my sandwiches before others in line, and I’ve been cut in front of criminally. All part of the cultural experience right? With sandwich in hand, it’s off to the juice counter and the same process again, although this can take even longer because they may have to squeeze fresh juice if they’re out. Once everything is in hand, it’s back to the car and onto home where I eat those sandwiches while watching some TV.

I’ve become a regular at Wazzan’s because it’s easy to get to and the food is healthy and affordable. The waiters know me and usually help expedite my take-out orders now, so I’m fighting less in line. It’s become a nice break from the workday. A couple of the waiters are talking to me in Arabic to try and help me learn. It’s like watching a snail race for them I’m sure. Eating is such a big part of life in this culture, so the restaurant is always full, especially late at night (10-11pm). People are with friends, eating and talking. It’s a really nice atmosphere to be perfectly honest. I took my neighbor, Mark, to Wazzan’s a few weeks ago and we had a blast talking about politics in Europe and the US. He’s looking to get me out to an Indian restaurant in the near future. I can hardly wait.


Stay tuned for the next phase of Life in Saudi Arabia…

LIVING IN SAUDI ARABIA - PART 1

HOME SWEET HOME

It was last August when I met with the company President and was asked if I would move to Saudi Arabia. For those of you that don’t know the story, I’ll give it to you short and sweet. By the start of 2009, I was the number one candidate to be the successor of our VP Industrial Sales. This position covers sales to refineries, power plants, chemical plants, etc. This is known as the downstream segment of the energy business (The upstream sector involves drilling and oil producing, and the midstream is the pipelines that transfer the oil to refineries and other plants…Ok, Energy 101 class is finished for today.). That’s was a pretty strong vote of confidence in me, unfortunately the opportunity did not feel right. You know that feeling you get when it becomes crystal clear that what’s in front of you is not a positive step? Well I had a swell gathering in me that was screaming just that: “STOP!” Problem was, I didn’t have a lot of options. The economy was already in a massive downward spiral, and I didn’t have an internal nudge to leave Wilson anyway. Inside the company there wasn’t a whole lot. Well it was about this time, that Wilson decided to expand seriously into the Eastern Hemisphere – basically Europe/Africa and east to China. We were going to start by hiring an Eastern Hemisphere Director. God set it on my heart that this was the avenue he wanted me to pursue. Each candidate (3 in total) had to put on a 2-hour presentation to the senior staff covering how we would approach the job expectations and develop the foundation for Wilson in the Eastern Hemisphere. In the end, I lost the job. This was May-June 2009.

In July 2009 I took the longest business trip of my career – 22 days. I started in Oman with my buddy Unni and Mohammed Abu Salah (here Mohammed and I are having morning coffee outside).

 
Then onto Dubai with Peter O’Neill and Jack Muggli.  Check out the famous Burj Hotel.
 
 

 
 
Then the three of us headed to Jordan to meet with our partners, EDGO, where we were treated to the Dead Sea and Petra.  Here are some pictures with some of the management at EDGO, as well as the Dead Sea and Petra.
 

From L to R (Tommy Broussard - Director Wilson Eastern Hemisphere, Jack Muggli - Director Wilson Capital Projects, Peter O'Neill - GM Wilson London Projects, Adel Kanaan - Director EDGO Business Development, Basil Masri - GM EDGO Sales, Matt Etter - Different color pants than everyone else!)

 

The Dead Sea as the sun sets

Petra! Remember Indiana Jones III...

 
 
 

Finally I rounded out my time with 4 days in Singapore and our partners (Shown below is me, Peter O'Neill and Jack Muggli, all on the same trip still - getting tired of each other!)

 
 

 

 

During my time in Jordan I received a call from my then current boss, VP of Industrial Sales. He said that our president wanted to see me. Upon returning from my trip I set-up some time with the president. It was in this meeting that he told me our partners wanted me to move to Saudi Arabia to manage the start-up of the Wilson business. I accepted on the spot, and the rest is history….

So after a semi-long introduction, I fast forward to Saudi Arabia. The next few entries are going to cover life here. It’s not at all what people would expect. I myself had visions of grandeur when I accepted the position. “It has to be pretty nice living because the country has so much money.”

First and foremost, I live on a compound with probably 500-750 other foreign nationals who work in Saudi Arabia. Inside the compound are smaller compounds with various accommodations: villas for large families, apartments for single folk, dual room townhomes for companies with rotating staff, etc. I live in an apartment in the Al Sanad residence of the Oasis Garden Compound. Compounds are meant to provide security to expats and some of the amenities we’re used to back in our home countries, such as sporting facilities that might not be as popular in Saudi, grocery stores with similar food, schools for English/Asian children, etc. Unfortunately, while the compounds do provide amenities, it’s the security that is most memorable. I have an ID card to get in and out of my compound gate. We have a guard who checks this card and walks our car with a mirror underneath the car body to check for bombs, checks our motor compartment and our trunk, all while Saudi military personnel are stationed with machine guns around the outer walls. It’s a major military stronghold on first pass. The walls around the compound are high, with barb wire on top.

Check out how narrow the drive street is inside my compound.  These are all villas on the left...much larger than my apartment, but without the Matt-Feel of course.

Here is my apartment with my living room window. The next window is my neighbor's.

I have two neighbors that I’m friends with. My immediate neighbor’s name is Mark. He’s probably 30 years old. Mark is from Dublin, Ireland. He is working for GE Oil & Gas as a Project Procurement Manager, supporting GE’s construction of their new turbine machine facility in Dammam, their largest in the world. My second neighbor is Neil. Neil is from London and works for Aramco as a travel arranger for the executive staff. Neil moved to Saudi about 18 months ago to get away from London and earn some money. He’s the veteran.

My apartment isn’t large. I remember exchanging email with people in Saudi Arabia exclaiming how nice Al Sanad was and that I had to jump on this last open apartment. When I first visited, all visions of grandeur exited stage left. It is a very simple place. I had to buy a TV and DVD, bed sheets, and cooking utensils. The bottom half of the refrigerator doesn’t seem to cool real well, so everything is plowed into the freezer, which is just a bit cooler than a normal refrigerator, so all works well. The bathroom is clean and serviceable, but there are no windows. The furniture is utilitarian, but honestly I was happy to not have to ship my stuff from Houston. Finally, there is a wall-mount A/C in the living room and one in the bedroom. The apartment is very small, probably only covering 750 square feet.

Check out some of the pictures

Living Room with TV

 
 

 

Living Room from behind the TV

 

Dining Room with my itty bitty table and book shelves (Look at that big, bad Atlas on the rolling table!)

 
 
 

Looking into the kitchen from the Living Room

 

 

 
 
 

Marty, Marta and Aslan insisted on coming with me on my journey

 

Most nights I spend some time reading, having some Bible/prayer time, and watching movies. I grab a few shwarma sandwiches at a local Lebanese restaurant (more to come about those) because I don’t have my personal items yet (pots, pans, etc.). It is my home and I am happy. While I miss motorcycles and like a spacious home, as long as I am in the place God wants me, life is right and he will take care of everything I need. I can honestly say that I love kicking it around my abode…as long as that A/C works!