Sand Bogging

Yesterday, I had the awesome opportunity to experience some genuine Saudi culture with some genuine Saudis.

Earlier in the week, I was looking around, trying to find a bank that would exchange some Canadian cash into riyals. Not yet having acquired my residency card (iqama), I wasn't able to open a bank account and exchange my money. I did, however meet a friendly Saudi who worked at one of the banks, and who had spent some time in Canada. After chatting for a while, he offered to take me into the Jebel mountains on the weekend, which I accepted, with only a little hesitation.

So, when the weekend came, I gave my friend a call, and half an hour later he pulled up in a Lexus SUV. I got in and we zoomed out of town towards a small town in the direction of Yanbu. It took about half an hour to get there--but keep in mind that this is half an hour of Saudi driving, so it might have taken me forty-five minutes. This was the first time I had been outside of Rabigh since arriving three weeks ago, so I was very happy to get out.

My Saudi friend's home was a small village, of modest looking, single-story houses. My friend told be that its inhabitants were mostly Bedouins. There, we dropped the Lexus and got into my friend's pick-up truck, and headed farther north. After some time, we slowed down, and turned east off the road, at a place which seemed to me totally lacking in distinction from any other place a kilometer up or down  the road. By my Saudi compatriot, told me he came out this way every weekend, and in fact, only a few generations ago, his family had lived out in the mountains, where we were headed. After a few hundred meters, we stopped the truck to let air out of the tires because with the tires full, the truck would get stuck in the sand.

I'm a bit embarrassed to say, but I did have some small worry that I wasbeing lulled out into the desert on false pretenses only to be chopped up with scimitars for the crime of being a white devil and infidel. Then again, I was going quite far out into the wilderness with someone I had had only just met. Perhaps it's only natural to be a little bit on edge in those circumstances, regardless of what country you are in!

As we got closer the mountains, I got to enjoy a range of ecological features. The ground changed from earthy to rock to sandy and back again. Here there were grasses and shrubs, there there were trees, and in another place there was no vegetation to speak of. As we got higher up, the sand eroded and gave way to pile of huge rocks. There was one gigantic granite boulder that that had been cleanly split in half. According to my friend, it had been struck by lighting, a few years before. We drove around and took pictures for a while, and eventually came back to the main camping grounds.

At the main area, I met some of my host's friends and relatives.  Instead of chopping me into pieces, they offered me coffee. A few of them spoke English nearly as well as me. We had polite conversation, while their children ran around playing. Not far off, you could see vehicles climbing a giant sand-dude and after I while we decided to go to the top. I got a ride on a ATV, and some other when in an SUV.

From the top, there was a landing area and on either side, there were two huge bowls, in which several people were driving their pickups, SUVs and ATVs, racing up the sides and drifting along the lips. It was impressive. It made me think of my home town of Grand Forks, and people riding their snowmobiles in the winter time.

After a while we went down, and had tea and more conversation. After that I got another ATV, ride and before I knew it, the sun was setting and it was time to go. It had an excellent time thank to my excellent hosts. Perhaps saying so sounds a bit contrite, but this was an experience that reminded me that the differences between people from different cultures are for the most part superficial, and that where it counts, human beings are the same, wherever you go.