She still couldn’t get used to the wave of heat that overwhelmed her when she stepped outside. The transition from the cold air condition to the 120 F August air was one of the things she had to adjust to for the next three years of her life. It had only been a week sense the move to Dhahran, Saudi Arabia and she was already homesick.
After a few nights of getting over jetlag, the family decided it was time for a trip to Al-Rashid Mall. The three-story shopping center was filled with bustling international families all enjoying the last few days of summer. As she was browsing the shops she noticed several things.
Everyone was staring at her. She looked down at herself to see why, and noticed the difference immediately. She wasn’t wearing an Abiya, the long black robe that covered all the other women up. Men were giving her looks she’d never gotten before, and women were shaking their heads as if she should be ashamed of herself. She noticed that most of the women wore a hijab too, and realized her own blonde hair was standing out far too much. All she could do was tie it back, in hopes that people would stop starring.
A few men in long white thobes waved and smiled at her. She innocently smiled back, but soon realized that it was the wrong thing to do. The custom there was to never look men in the eye, or acknowledge them at all. Her father quickly told her this information. As she walked away, she felt their eyes burning on the back of her head. Feeling uncomfortable was an understatement for the 15 year-old girl. She wanted to leave the spotlight in the new foreign country as soon as possible.
Her new phone started ringing, she answered it and heard an unfamiliar voice on the other end. “Hello! I love you!” said the strange accent. She quickly hung up. How did they get my number? She wondered. A few moments later it began to ring again, and the same thing happened. She kept walking and tried to ignore the vibrations from her pocket. After it stopped she saved the number as “Don’t Answer!” for future reference.
She and her family continued walking to the different stories. Little kids were running around screaming, some of the little girls wearing frilly princess outfits, with the parents lagging behind talking in fast Arabic. Some young boys on roller skates nearly crashed into her as she was walking out of Zara, a big department clothing store. She felt weary of being on the look out, and wanted to sit down at the food court. Her family agreed and they glided up the escalator to the top level where it was located.
They decided to eat Subway, she got in line and people kept starring. She realized she was in the men only line, and quickly switched over to the women one. She waited, and ordered her sub for 12 Riyals. When the family had all their food they looked for a place to sit. She soon realized only men were sitting at the tables, the red and white-checkered gutras everywhere. She asked an Indian man at the counter where women sat, and he pointed to the “Family Section”. It was a walled in section, so no one could see the people there. She finally sat down with the rest of her family for some peace and quiet.
Workers in grey jumpsuits went around sweeping lazily, and weren’t ashamed to stare at the girl either. She couldn’t take it anymore, and the family decided to leave. They came out of the family section and the same men who smiled and waved before were there, they began to follow the girl, all the way through the mall. As they exited the building into the humid night, they men were still following.
Her father flagged down a taxi, and they began arguing about the price to take the family home. The driver managed, in his broken English to say 25 Riyals. The girls’ father wanted 20. Finally, they agreed and they began to drive home.
She just wanted to get to her house, despite how unfamiliar it felt, it was better than the exotic-smelling backseat of the taxi. Her phone began to vibrate again: Don’t Answer. A wave of weariness crept through her whole body. She didn’t remember walking from the taxi to her house, or getting into bed.
All she remembered was waking up. It was all a dream, and there was nothing to worry about, she thought as she opened her eyes, smiling. Let the first 5 minutes of her morning feel safe and happy, before she realizes it wasn’t a dream, and that she actually just spent her first week in the desert metropolis.
