LAST week, I had a whirlwind tour of the First World — three countries in as many days. “What could you see in just three days?” was the most common question I was asked upon my return. “Look, I was in Germany because my flight from Jeddah was routed via Frankfurt. I was next in Switzerland because I flew to Geneva from where I crossed the border to a nearby French town.”
Three hours waiting at the impressive Frankfurt airport gave me a glimpse of the Germans in the new millennium and their lifestyle. The successful operation of the airport is something to crow about. I walked long distances searching for my boarding gate for the flight to Geneva. I kept reading the directions which were clearly indicated beside the escalators. “If you’re going to any of the B gates, then take the Skyline.”
A tall stocky German informed me, “It’s summer and the holiday season. We just get out wherever possible.” Then he introduced his family, “This is my wife. These two boys are my children and these two girls are my wife’s children.”
I didn’t have to be filled in on the rest of the story. I took the flight to Geneva where an official asked me, “Are you going by the French gate or the Swiss gate?”
Seeing that I was puzzled, he said: “I mean, if you are going on to France by road, you may go through the French gate.”
Then another person chimed in, “If you don’t have a Swiss visa and you’re going to Aix-Les-Bains, you may take the French gate.”
Since the Swiss visa was in my passport, I took the Swiss gate, passed through the customs green channel and was surprised to see two female representatives from my hosts waiting to welcome me with a bouquet and a copy of “Asharq Al-Awsat.” Even before I asked “Why this Arabic newspaper for me?” there came a comment from one of them: “You’re coming from Saudi Arabia and this is the newspaper everyone from the Arab world reads.”
We waited another two hours at the airport as guests from other countries arrived. During the conversations that ensued, one of the women was curious to learn about the Kingdom and what sort of lifestyle the people living there enjoyed.
“Muslims can have four wives, can’t they?” one of them asked. “What about you?” I asked. And she replied: “We don’t have that problem. My boyfriend and I are living together and we’ll get married if we decide to,” she said.
We then got into a luxury bus for the 90-minute ride to Aix-Les-Bains in France. The French border is only 10 km from Geneva and after a banquet in a mountain-top restaurant, I loitered to interview the host and in the process missed the bus. A French lady offered to drive me back to my hotel and as it was well past midnight, I struck up a conversation with her to make sure that she would not fall asleep during the drive.
“What’s your family like and how many children have you got?” I asked.
She answered, “I have a baby boy, six months old. I may marry my boyfriend by the end of the year.”
Later after arriving at my hotel as I was falling asleep, I wondered what kind of family values people in the First World have.