How hot was it in Al-Qatif yesterday? It was terribly, horribly hot. At 7 o’clock in the morning the temperature was 38 degrees Celsius (100 F) and the humidity was 44 percent, which meant that it felt like it was 46 degrees C (115 F). So why were we all indulging in an open air sauna? Because it’s the shrimping season, the time to follow your nose to Al-Qatif, the best place in the Kingdom to buy these tasty crustaceans.
“The large buyers actually come here to the outdoor seafood market at 5 a.m,” said Mustafa Al-Khamis, a Saudi who’s been selling in Al-Qatif’s retail fish market for the last decade. “The shrimping season is six months long and ends on the first of Muharram, so we’re about two months into it. On good days, Al-Qatif sees the sale of about 3,000 ‘men’ of shrimp.”
For those who might not be familiar with the local terminology, the measure of a “men” is 16 kilos of shrimp and no one from the local area would consider buying anything less than that at one time. One “men” of shrimp is currently about SR200 — compare that price to what the local supermarket is charging per kilo, and weep.
“At 5 a.m., we’ve got buyers from all over the Eastern Province here, and there are even people who come from Riyadh and Bahrain to buy in quantity,” said Al-Khamis. “At that hour, I buy a few ‘men’ of shrimp and some varieties of fish and that is what I sell by the kilo from my stall here in the fish market.”
At the retail fish market, the mark-up is about 30 percent, but even at that rate, the prices are extremely reasonable. The cost of fish varies — Hamour is SR25 per kilo, Hamam is SR12. Shrimp is sold at six kilos for SR100. All the seafood is purchased with heads and tails intact.
No husband who hopes to live happily should turn up at home with kilos of uncleaned shrimp. So that’s when it’s time to call on the crews of Saudi youngsters who perform an essential service at the fish market.
“We get here at six in the morning and we work till about two in the afternoon,” said Hussein Abdul Aziz Al-Dhamen. “We earn SR2 for every kilo of shrimp we clean. One ‘men’ we peel for SR30. Thursday is the best day for us. On average we peel six ‘men’ daily.”
Hussein is about to enter King Fahd University of Petroleum & Minerals. His crew is made up of his brother, Ali, his pal, Hussam Nasser Bazroun, and another friend. The four young men wear rubber boots to protect their feet and cotton work gloves over plastic gloves to protect their hands. The customers pay cash for their services and at the end of each day the four lads split the earnings equally.
When asked if they’d been forced to work in the fish market out of need, Hussein replied with a laugh, “No way. My parents hated it that I came to work here, but now they’re okay with it. I like working here with my friends. It gives me some cash to spend as I like.” His friend Hussam chimed in: “My father will tell me that SR15 is enough, but what I want needs SR50, so I come here and earn it. Then I can buy what I like.” Ali added: “Sitting at home is useless. You’re not a man if you don’t work.”
And work these teenagers do quite willingly. Ignoring the heat, the odors and the piles of shrimp shells at their feet, their young hands move rapidly. They chat and joke while they peel the shrimp, but their eyes are on the task at hand. The customers appreciate the quick, cheerful service and nearly everyone tips the cleaning crew a few riyals extra.
With a smile, Hussein hands over the plastic bags filled with peeled shrimp, tucks the money carefully away and gets back to business. Time is short. In a few weeks, the youngsters will exchange the fish market for the classroom. Until then, hurry up and bring on the “men.”
