I am in a central London street and people are walking along talking to each other, some looking straight ahead and others window-shopping. Being a true Saudi woman, I look around, searching for eyes fixed on me as has become my habit in Jeddah. To my surprise and relief, people are not looking at me; they have too many other things to do. Strange feelings creep in, mainly of relaxation and also joy. I can walk here for as long as my feet can support me and I can breathe the air with my head held high. I can look up at the sky or down at the earth without feeling menaced by stares.
Why don’t I feel this way in a street in Jeddah, my beautiful hometown? It is a city which my father is in love with because it holds his happiest memories. The Jeddah my father talks about seems to me a dream, a small, simple city, filled with people who basically cared for their neighbors, paid attention to the elderly and respected and protected women in simple but very humane ways. The following questions haunt me. What is happening exactly in Jeddah? Why are those simple joys denied us today? What has changed in the past 50 or 60 years that has made us listen to our fathers as if they had known a utopia which we cannot even imagine? The picture of a modern Saudi woman’s life as she goes about her daily routine contrasts sharply with the bold but somehow indistinct one drawn from my father’s memory. Imagine, however, what happens in modern Jeddah. The moment a woman walks out of her car — or her house for that matter — she becomes a target for comments, stares and lingering looks that make her feel so uncomfortable that she has to seek refuge either in a shop, a car or a house. I know that this conduct has become the norm and I have to admit that, most of the time, it is just a fact of life like traffic accidents. As much as we hate the idea of an accident, we have to consider the possibility and this makes us alert. This very alertness often translates into our being nervous, edgy and uncomfortable.
Yes, life in Jeddah for the street savvy has turned into a game of hide-and-seek. Some men enjoy the game and obviously some women do too. After all, it takes two to tango. But for those who do not enjoy the dance, it has become an annoying and stifling way of life. Is it really so difficult for men to find something to look at in the street? What about traffic lights? Paying attention to them would at least be useful in helping to avoid traffic accidents.
But to look at the situation from another angle, which does not in any way justify the staring, maybe people just need more to do. The basic elements of our lives are work, home and shopping. Which are not really enough for releasing energy or developing either good intellects or good habits.
Being an old fashioned type, I instantly think of bookstores, art galleries, theaters, cinemas and parks. How many of those do we have? Defensive attitudes aside, we really don’t have any. We have some attempts at a cultural life but they are rather moribund and restricted. Our bookstores lack a wide range of titles. As for cinemas, theaters, big and varied art galleries or museums — forget them! There goes the cultural scene, leaving behind coffee shops, department stores and some major flirting scenes. People stare at each other instead of looking at books, movies or works of art. From simple and exploring looks to piercing stares, the joy of being outside the house soon dissipates.
At least I can be thankful for having the option of traveling abroad where I can feel free of staring eyes and enjoy what I miss at home.
Arab News Opinion 11 March 2003
