SYON PARK, London, 7 August 2004 — There just had to be camels. Beautifully groomed and well-behaved, they gazed at the crowds of onlookers and the unfamiliar landscape created by Capability Brown with its lush grass with equal tolerance. The visitors they stared at in that endlessly patient and slightly superior way camels do; the grass they ate.
For most of the many thousands of families that visited Syon Park in Middlesex — the London home of the Duke of Northumberland— on a gloriously sunny summer weekend, camels were not a new experience thought they were the most instantly recognizable icon of Saudi Arabia. For most, the rest of the experience was new. Hawks, salukis and a magnificent bevy of Arabian horses with a four week-old foal completed the animal contingent and became centers of attention.
Even though Britain has had a long association with the Arabian Peninsula through such towering figures as Gertrude Bell, Thesiger, Burton, Philby, Capt. Shakespear and Lawrence, the British public’s general knowledge of Saudi Arabia is scanty. With a view to demystifying the Kingdom and bringing some of its culture and people into direct contact with the British, this event originated from an idea by the Saudi ambassador in London, Prince Turki Al-Faisal. It grew from a horse show featuring the Arabian horse and it soon became apparent that an outdoor show with cultural content would work.
County shows and outdoor events are a tradition in England. There is a pioneering spirit in the British character that encourages sturdy families to look for outdoor events and go clad in summer frocks and floppy hats but with a pair of stout wellington boots and raincoats in the car.
Over a year or so, Prince Turki made it his personal project to combine this spirit with an opportunity to introduce the Kingdom’s cultural richness to the British public. Thus, he pulled a team together and made the show a reality. Outside events in the UK are notoriously difficult to stage, not least because of the fickleness of the weather. With the Saudi festival, extra challenges had to be met. Where does one find palm trees in sufficient quantity to give an atmosphere? Where in Brentford does one get a decent kapsa chef? The first one who turned up only knew couscous — but from the polyglot world that is modern London, a chef soon emerged and his skills, tested by a local Saudi, were deemed excellent. “How do you eat this?” Ann Harriman — trailing two scampering children chirruping “Camels” — enquired of the beaming Saudi student offering her a plate of Kapsa. With great good grace, Abdul Moshen, a Saudi IT student at a London university who had been co-opted to help at the event, demonstrated and explained the significance of using the right hand to eat.
“I never knew that,” Ann said, and tried to ball the rice with one hand. Her reaction to the show was typical of many of the visitors. “You hear so much about Saudi Arabia and for me it was all oil and trouble. I never realized that there was so much to the country.” While her children wanted to see the camels — for the third time — Ann was struck by the display of traditional costumes and weaving in one of the large black Bedouin tents that housed the displays. “The colors and the complexity of the decorations are quite amazing. What really struck me was that every part of the embroidery and applique either has a tradition behind it or expresses some part of the culture. They are textile history books.”
Simpler traditions also attracted attention, from the old spinning-top seller to the sandal maker who was quietly selling his production as fast as he could make it. “What’s Arabic for size four?” wafted across the arena. One of the ever attentive translators came to the rescue and Prince Turki himself checked the size chart. “We came prepared,” he winked broadly.
The traditional dancing, energetically performed by a group of Saudi musicians and a similar group of resident and visiting Saudis was a magnet for the crowds. The compelling rhythms and huge smiles of the dancers encouraged members of the audience to join in, much to the obvious delight of the performers. It was that sort of day, simple and welcoming emphasizing, if that was ever necessary to the average citizen, that face-to-face contact is often easy between widely different cultures and that political posturing and policy is remote from the realities of everyday life for most people. When you see slightly embarrassed middle-aged accountants losing their inhibitions and swinging a mock sword, clearly enjoying themselves in the dance and being encouraged by the other dancers, the truth of that is easy to see.
English show-grounds are notoriously policed by stuffy officials in bowler hats who have a great tendency to use their ex-military titles and officiousness. The Saudi festival very wisely had no admission charge to either Syon House or the event and neither was there a bowler hat in sight. It was billed as being held through the hospitality of the Saudi embassy, and hospitable it was. These details surely contributed to the immensely relaxed and welcoming atmosphere that pervaded the showground. “A little bit of Saudi Arabia,” was how Prince Turki had described the event when he welcomed the visitors. The relaxed atmosphere, the abundance of smiles and hospitality and the consideration shown to the visitors showed all that was best in Saudi culture. Thobes and ghutras mingled with miniskirts with no apparent friction, abbaya-wearing ladies sat under the old oak trees picnicking, alongside families dressed in little more than shorts and suntan. Even tiny details had been covered — free water stations located at convenient points and suggestions over the public address stations to the public to use them. Free? In the UK? Yes, free. The show attracted some weathered looking British couples with clipped accents and distant gazes. Fiona had taught for a decade or so in Saudi Arabia while her husband Peter flew for Saudi Airlines. “We left the Kingdom eight years ago,” said Fiona. “This has brought all the good bits back and there were so many of them. Sure, there were challenges; there are for any expatriate in any culture other than their own. I hated leaving when I think about it. It was the warmth of the people I remember most.”
Sharon French, a teacher from Hertfordshire, commented on the value of the event from her teaching perspective. “I would just love to have brought my class of nine year-olds here for the day,” she said. “They need just this sort of hands-on contact with people and cultures outside their ordinary experience. It is so easy to adopt an insular view of the world and accept the stereotypes that are often portrayed as real.”Clutching a handful of leaflets, she said that this had inspired her to follow up the experience and badger the embassy for education packs for schools. She may well have some success. Bidding his guests farewell, Prince Turki told the crowds that there would be another festival next year in a different part of the country. “Bring your children; enjoy some time with us. If you have trouble getting there, tell me. We’ll get you there!” he said. “Call me, if you need any information, I am always happy to talk about Saudi Arabia.” Such was the warmth of the hospitality that the guests were entirely convinced.