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The white man’s burden

By John R. Bradley, Arab News Staff

DAMMAM, 6 July — It was a Thursday night and I was in Al-Rashid Mall, the largest shopping complex in the Middle East. I had been walking around the various floors for half an hour when it suddenly dawned on me that I was the only white person among the thousands of visitors. The locals were nothing but friendly and hospitable. The only thing that seems to have confused them was that I was those things too.

Why was I the odd man out?

Earlier, I had been in the Chinese Grill restaurant in Dhahran Street in Alkhobar. I was having dinner with Asian friends and, again, I find myself a lone, representative figure of my race.

In Dammam itself in the afternoon, I was walking through the narrow downtown streets of the wonderful souk and I was told by a friend that I was almost certainly the only white guy in the whole area, if not indeed the city.

I have been told that there is a general sense of hostility among the locals with regard to Westerners, and that is why the latter keep to their compounds. However, the white expatriates’ policy of “splendid isolation” goes back much further than recent bomb attacks. It is grounded not in genuine security fears, but widespread ignorance.

Why do I say that?

Because experience must always triumph over prejudice and folly.

In Riyadh the day before I arrived in Alkhobar, two incidents left in me a deep and sincere feeling of being welcomed.

Lost on my way to the offices of Al-Watan Arabic daily for an interview with the Chairman of the Board, I asked a local Saudi sitting in his car the way. He casually told me to pay the limousine driver and then get in beside him. He drove me the rest of the way himself. We barely spoke to one another, and when we arrived he simply bid me ma’ salamah.

Later, in built-up traffic on Al-Olaya Street, my taxi pulled up parallel to a car full of Osama Bin Laden lookalikes, their heavily veiled women and a sprinkling of small children. I supposed most Westerners would have felt that they were suddenly starring in a horror movie. I instinctively smiled, and one of the women raised the hand of her infant son and showed him how to wave back at me.

I am not given to sentimentality, but it was a truly beautiful moment.

The question should not be why there is hostility among the locals, because it is practically non-existent. Rather, the question has always been and remains: Why are the Westerners nevertheless so intransigent in their misguided belief that it exists?

The only horror stories brought to my attention on my latest trip to the Eastern Province were of Westerners being bussed to town from their compounds for brief shopping expeditions, as though on a day trip to an alien environment. No doubt they will say they have legitimate security concerns. I can only say by way of reply that a bus full of white people makes a perfect terrorist target.

Why does any of this matter?

Well, for a number of reasons, the most important having to do with the triumph of misconceptions over reality. The whole world has got it into its head that this is a difficult, and largely unenjoyable, place for a Westerner to live. What the world does not understand is that if this is indeed the case it is the Westerners themselves who have brought such a lot upon themselves.

How many of them value, as I do, the inspiring friendship of a Saudi?

The isolation of Westerners matters as well because without new experiences personalities cannot grow and develop.

On Thursday I was invited by a friend to dinner in a restaurant in what I am told is perhaps the most exclusive compound in Riyadh. Rarely have I seen such a sterile and utterly false environment. It was truly a self-made prison. Now I understand better why I have come across so many Westerners who have been in the Kingdom for years and have absolutely nothing whatsoever to show for the experience but a few extra zeros at the end of their bank account statements. They have sold their soul to the dollar, and to somehow justify the terrible fact are forever pointing their fingers at the locals for having made their lives so miserable. In a word, they are in self-denial. After all, if they do not like it here, the plane flies both ways.

I have an idea.

If all the expatriates did just two things when they occasionally ventured out into the real world, the locals would be reassured that there is no hostility among the closed-off Western enclaves.

Firstly, whenever a Westerner encounters an Arab — say opening a door or sitting down at a table — he should say Assalaam Alaikum.

Secondly, at supermarkets Westerners should make a point of giving in a very obvious manner a small donation, perhaps once a week, to the bearded charity volunteer standing outside who invariably is collecting money to help poor young Saudis get married.

These two small gestures, if they became a part of the social fabric, would do more to break cultural barriers than a thousand political tones ever could.

-- Anonymous, July 05, 2002

Answers

Let's see him walk thru Harlem in the middle of the night well dressed.

-- Anonymous, July 06, 2002

Snort!

-- Anonymous, July 06, 2002

He's a guy. Now if I did that, walked all over town in my jeans and dirty boots and not even sunscreen over my face, I would have had a much different experience.

-- Anonymous, July 06, 2002