Re-think

I've tried my best to keep this light.
Nothing heavy; nothing controversial; nothing to get me or anyone else in trouble.

Today was shopping day again.
For the first time I really was loathe to put my abaya on.
I've had it a number of years now and the few times I've had to wear it, it was just another piece of clothing. It just happened to be black and polyester and apt to restrict my stride. I was respecting the custom of the country. It was no biggy.

Keep with me here! It may seem as if I lose the thread (pun intended, to lighten the mood) but it should all gather together by the time I get to the end.

White Rock City is hardly cosmopolitan now. Yes we have a handful of men from different countries but nothing moving but the tumble weed.
Al Jawa the small town down the road where we shop is not cosmopolitan. More tumble weed.

As we drive along the highway towards Al Jawa I must draw the veil up onto my head. I'm respecting the custom of the country again.

Are they respecting me?

I'm respecting the custom of the country as I constantly pull my veil forward and try to tuck as much of my blonde hair as possible out of sight.

Out of sight.

This is obviously where women are supposed to be.

I'm aware that I've forgotten to put my black longer length leggings on. As I climb in and out of the car I try to do so without showing too much bare leg. I have to wear slip on sandals or my feet swell in the heat and become really uncomfortable. I conciously try to take smaller strides to keep my bare feet under the abaya, out of sight.

As we enter the small supermarket I now keep my head down, my eyes not catching anyone elses. I try to keep up with Stephen as he pushes the trolley around the aisles. I don't want to embarrasse anyone by entering an aisle unaccompanied probably forcing them to skidaddle fast.

At the checkout I stand to one side of Stephen in the queue aware from the corner of my eyes of the men shoppers holding back. The usual push and shove on the roads seems to prevail in supermarket queues with the trolleys.

A man packs the shopping, in way too many plastic bags and pushes the trolley to the car for a tip.

I'm respecting the custom of the country in becoming a non-person. Mrs. Invisible.

Over the past 6 weeks I've been reading a book that researched into women in Muslim countries over the centuries. I'm a slow reader! I've trawled the internet devouring any blogs written by women of any nationality but based here in Saudi Arabia.

There are plenty of women, it seems, who are happy to keep the custom of the abaya and more! I drew the line, as soon as I got here, over the face veil, the niqab.

What I want to say is, each to his own.

Yes, I can remember as a child being expected to cover my head in church with a hat, mantilla or scarf as a sign of respect. This was a head covering not a means of blotting me out. Our society has moved on with the times and women no longer have to remember their hat, mantilla or scarf before entering church to pray.

Yes, I can hear at least one of you saying but what about that time in Rome when, Pol's I think, bare arms were giving offence. Old habits die hard with some old folk.

I'm looking forward to being respected as another human being, by the majority of people, as I walk down the street and push my trolley into Morrisons.

Idon't feel quite so sad having vented for a bit. I'm still looking to experience the culture and customs of Saudi Arabia while I have the opportunity.