Jeddah is possibly well on its way to garner the dubious distinction of having the most shopping malls per inhabitants of any urban city in the world. Perhaps the city planners deem it worthwhile to be considered for inclusion in the Guinness Book of World Records, an attestation, if you will, of a job well done by our dynamic and inventive municipal officials.
Forget the fact that our roads are in such a pitiful state that would send most vehicles and their occupants weekly to workshops or chiropractors. Or the fact that we do not have several decent and well-managed parks for our young ones to play in. Or a dismal lack of public libraries or cultural centers. Hey, who needs them when you’ve got a shopping mall springing up on practically every street corner? Besides, there are plenty of blocked roads and streets for the little ones to stretch their legs.
The mall madness is obviously a boon for its patrons, as it affords them an evening out in a temperature-controlled environment. With beachfronts inaccessible to most of the public, and no real fun driving in heavy and chaotic traffic around the city, malls today are transforming themselves into the oasis of the past.
Shops are of the same old tired chains from one shopping mall to the other, and judging by the lack of shopping bags being carried, it’s obvious that most mall patrons are in there not for purchasing but just for lack of something else to do.
A recent visit on a busy weekend night with my wife to an upscale mall in the city provided me with a glimpse into the social mores of our ever-changing society. Throngs of cars drove up to the mall entrance, unloading their occupants while their drivers moved on to locate a parking spot.
Just a few feet from the entrance, hordes of drivers sauntered into their ethnic gatherings, trading news and gossip from back home. In an assembly worthy of a UN mini summit for Asia, and Africa, these representatives from countries such as the Philippines, Indonesia, Nepal, Sri Lanka, Bangladesh, Pakistan, India, Egypt and the Sudan formed tight groups along national boundaries.
Inside the mall, the atmosphere bordered on the festive. There were the families in groups of six or more, more often than not with their children wild and unleashed; there were the teenagers from both sexes bursting with testosterone and in their full plume, and then there were those middle-aged men devoid of any family members and whose purpose in visiting such establishments is on its own a study in social sciences.
I found them staring unabashedly at any female who passes by, while gulping down endless cups of Turkish coffee, and puffing away on an infinite number of cigarettes with their three mobile phones spread on the table in front of them, undoubtedly in anticipation with their Bluetooth turned on. And then in one sudden moment, they all disappeared. It was only when I discovered the presence of the Mishleh-clad Virtue Commission members followed by the obligatory policeman that I understood the reason.
I wondered what went through the minds of these commission members, faced with the challenging and unstoppable waves of changing social mores visibly playing around them. My wife, on the other hand, was more concerned about being accused of being in a state of khulwa with me, since neither carried a copy of our marriage license with us, remembering well the case of Yara, the American businesswoman who was arrested by the Commission for the Promotion of Virtue and the Prevention of Vice last year for sitting with a male colleague at Starbucks. But fortunately, they just stared and moved on.
From our vantage point in such a coffee shop overlooking the mall center, my wife and I observed many a “peacock”, a term I have coined for those young boys out to impress, either with their sizable manes or their outlandish outfits. And the young girls matched them in dare, with some obviously just making their way to the mall from an appointment at the coiffure dazzling with their make-up and jewelry, and their inventiveness with the abaya. Yes indeed, a place to be seen and admired.
Shops loudly displayed their sale signs, some with up to 80 percent discounts, but there were only very few takers, as most of the throng just moved on, predictably looking but not plunking out the cash, as salesmen hovered about feverishly hoping for a sale. Perhaps the economy is not as robust yet. The busiest places observed where customers were indeed parting with their riyals where the hypermarket and the food court. One can hold off Gucci shoes or Guess sportswear for now, but one has to eat.
In the food court, families grabbed available tables and seating, frequently more than they required, while others wandered around desperately searching for a table to put their tray of food. Shades of territorial expansion with no thought for fellow beings. I suppose the only thing lacking in this complex was a multiplex movie theater that could have enticed these crowds to spend their money besides food.
But then I guess that is already being detailed by our industrious city planners in the next mall coming soon in your neighborhood.
