Musings and Maunderings (2)

Yeah, I know, it's been a week since I last posted. I didn't find any topic that really inspired me this past week although I've got half a dozen interesting things going on at the moment that might end up as good blog stories.

Here's another collection of musings about the oddities of life here in KSA.

The commissary sells nearly every major brand of shampoo that you might want...but they don't sell any conditioner. Not a single bottle. They do have "hair oil replacement" products. Even with the harsh salt water that we shower in, the idea of adding oil to my hair is kind of off putting.

Most Saudi women wear their hair very long and tuck it, roll it, braid it, and otherwise confine it most of the time since they cover their heads if not their faces too when out in public (I've even seen some women who are fully veiled driving on camp--YIKES!). I know they wear their hair long because when they use public restrooms they often remove their abayyahs, scarves, and veils. All of the women's restrooms I've been in are thoroughly festooned with hooks on all the walls and stalls for these purposes. Nearly all expat women, perhaps in some conscious or even unconscious protest, wear their hair short. I am not sure what to make of this.

I was told several stories, surely apocryphal but they are all of a theme, about women and their veils and how ingrained the behavior has become. Here are two such stories. Take them with a grain of salt but you will get the idea.

A guy is driving along the street when he suddenly notices a small child dart out into the road, mother in hot pursuit. She looks up, sees the strange male in the car bearing down on her child, turns and runs into the house to grab a dishtowel to cover her face before running back outside to grab her child. First priority: prevent strange male from seeing her face. Saving her child ranks a distant second.

A male doctor in the hospital is going to visit an elderly female patient for a post-surgical follow up. He enters her room where she is in a wheelchair dressed in the typical backless hospital gown. She is alone in the room (her husband is not present). When she sees the doctor, she proceeds to throw her gown over her head, thus exposing her naked body. First priority: prevent strange male from seeing her face. Protecting the rest of her aged but undoubtedly wily feminine charms ranks a distant second.

Next to the hair oils in the commissary is an entire section, top to floor, of skin lightening products. It took me a while to figure out what they were. Saudis have a wide variance in skin color but I suppose those bad messages about lighter skin being better (whitesome and delightsome, to paraphrase the Mormons) have crept in.

Not too surprising, on the other side of the skin lightener shelves is an entire section of acne treatment. If they put oil on their hair and grease their skin up to bleach it, it's not a stretch to predict that they are going to have some skin problems. I mention this because I have oily skin and use acne products daily. In the US, acne products are often tucked away in lower shelves or odd corners. Instead, the displays there are dominated by moisturizers and age-defying products. Those are notably absent here, along with hair conditioner.

There are three gyms on camp. One is for men only. One is for women only. The other has fixed times for men and women but most of the times are for men. I went to the women only gym today. It was filled with very clean, modern equipment and plenty of it. Stationary bikes, treadmills, stairclimbers, a full complement of weight machines, a full set of free weight equipment, yoga mats and balls. There's a sauna and a women only pool (of a size suitable for lap swimming) staffed by female lifeguards. The sign on the outside even says "no men allowed".

I like working out in gyms. I have been a sporadic weight lifter for 15+ years. I've been in some pretty grotty places as well as brand new 24Hour facilities. But I've never been in a women only gym. It was....well, it was different. I don't want to incite you folks too much but working out with men has always created some stress for me. I have always felt a tiny bit judged and deemed lacking when I go to regular gyms. Not that this stopped me but that feeling was always there. So you go in a place where there are no men present, no men expected to show up later, and frankly it did feel different.

It rained here three days last week and again this morning. I decided to put a weather gizmo on the blog--click on it and you should get the Dhahran camp forecast. Also, when it is 50deg C here come July, I want independent verification of this fact. I'll post more on weather later.

P. S. I got my care package with pepto-bismol and dog treats! Thanks!! DSL sent THE MOST ANNOYING squeaky toy--a frightful chicken-elf. Mimi is in love with it to the point that I have to take it away from her after a while. She does this odd chattering motion with her teeth so that she can make it squeak/squawk pretty much endlessly. Then she'll grab it by its elf-hatted head and start shaking vigorously. It truly sounds like a dying chicken. She is enchanted! Oh, and the plastic ball with Santa faces on it? Mimi has already surgically removed one of the Santa faces, apparently agreeing with conservative Muslims about the sinfulness of representative art. Or else she just hates Santa.

Now that I've got enough dog treats to last me for a while, I can start doing some training again!