There is something I have never quite figured out. As I look around me to find answers, I find the problem exists mostly in the Gulf and in Saudi Arabia in particular.
The problem lies in the fact that foreigners make up a third of our country’s 21 million population, according to the last census. Yet, for some reason, though many have lived here for years — even decades — they are never really part of the system, or the culture.
Worst yet, throughout the years living in Saudi Arabia as a citizen, I have come to realize the sad reality that almost all foreigners who come and work here and live here and then leave or even remain to stay, do not speak Arabic!
Some have lived here as long as two decades and still do not know how to speak or read the language.
Unfortunately, if someone asked me how many foreigners I have come across in my life who spoke fluent Arabic in Saudi Arabia, my answer would be one.
Ripley’s “Believe it or Not” — and with a sad feeling in your stomach, as I would say.
One day, I imagined myself moving to India to work there in a company. I requested in the contract that I wanted to live in a compound so I could enjoy privately my culture, life and play sports and do pretty much what I wanted. The contract was signed and I was off. There I lived in Bombay working in a computer software company from 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. as a foreigner. After I would return home, I would enjoy the evenings behind the big walls of the compound with my fellow Saudis and Gulf citizens living there. We would play sports, gossip about the things happening in India, complaining about the crowded streets, the living conditions, and about things we did not like. We would more or less, chatter and talk the night away.
The following day I would return to my work again. I would speak to my colleagues and my superiors in English. And once again I would return home to my compound at the end of the day.
A year passes by and I still live in Bombay. I only go out when I drive to work or need to buy something from the supermarket or the mall. And I try to avoid the hours where most locals go out so I do not bump into them.
Living there for five years now, I have formed my own circle of Saudi friends who I meet on and off.
I still have not made any friends with any of the locals. And I still do not know how to read or write in Hindi or Urdu. I did not even bother to ask people in the company if they know of any Hindi language tutors or institutes where I could learn the language in my leisure time.
During those five years, I leave on my yearly one-month vacation back to Saudi Arabia to spend time there with my family and buddies.
After my contract finishes, I return to Saudi Arabia. My family and friends throw me a huge party on the occasion of my arrival. There I meet with everyone who loves me. At the gathering, a friend asks me: “So how was life in India?”
“I loved India. It has such a beautiful and rich culture. The people there are really welcoming and friendly. The food is also great,” I reply.
“Really?” answers my friend. “You must have at least dozens of friends by now. Lucky you. The next time you go there you don’t need to even check in a hotel.”
“Actually, I don’t. There are a couple of nice Indians I met there over the years, but I used to hang out with my Saudi buddies at the compound. We’d have fun together.”
My friend, already puzzled, asks me again, “But after living there for five years, you must be a fluent speaker in Hindi or Urdu. You could be my tour guide when I plan to go there in the near future.”
I gulp, and reply with a low voice: “Actually, to be honest, I don’t speak their language. I was speaking English at my work place so I didn’t really need to learn Hindi or Urdu.”
Now my friend’s face has changed. He doesn’t seem to quite understand how I actually lived there for five years and not spoken their language, or even had made local friends. He drops the final bomb on me, “So where would you recommend I go if I went there?”
My vocal cords for some reason freeze. I want to try to change the topic, but I could see my friend’s eyes fixed on me waiting for an answer. My previous answers have already got other people to look at me, and suddenly, the entire room was waiting to hear what I had to say.
I pulled myself together and said, “Well, as you know Abdullah, I lived in Bombay for five years. It’s a beautiful coastal city. I also went to Delhi a couple of times, but only on a business trip. I hadn’t really been to any other place inside the country for vacation.”
“And you claim to have lived in India for five years? Who are you trying to kid here?” he answers.
Luckily, this was all a daydream.
But in reality, this daydream is the conditions of hundreds of thousands, if not millions of foreigners who have lived and continue to live in Saudi Arabia today.
The moral of the story?
You’re not really living somewhere if you do not speak the language of the host country, avoid mingling with locals, do not see other parts of the country, and do not make local friends.
