I just finished reading a fascinating book -'The Kite Runner' by Khaled Hosseini. In the book, when the author talks about Afghanisthan and the cruelty of the Taliban, it reminded me of our short stay in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. 15 years ago. A bad dream, but worth penning about.
At the outset, Riyadh appeared to be a beautiful garden city, with well-maintained roads, glamorous malls and people literally rolling in money everywhere. All this wealth in exchange for one birthright - your freedom. That's the skeleton that was taking rap lessons in the closet. Yes, I'm talking about the terrible human, especially womens' rights that would go on in a country that's stinking rich with its oil money. Being the capital city, Riyadh was trying to implement the Shariat Law to the maximum at that time. Hope things are better now.
Saudi women had to wear a full burkha covering their faces and we, the foreign women had to wear an 'abhaya' or a veil that could show only the face. Thank God. We had the privelege to at least breathe. That's for starters. Women cannot go out of the house without an accompanying male. Also, in buses, women have to travel in the back and the men in the front (where's Rosa Parks when we need her?). Most shops, women cannot go inside. Women cannot drive cars, the only jobs they can hold were as teachers or nurses.
Taliban could find kindred souls in Saudi in the form of 'Muttawas' or the religious police who would roam around everywhere on the streets and literally beat people with canes. I'm serious. Guilt? For men, if you don't stop wherever you are, even in the middle of the road and pray. For women, if your hair peeks out of the veil or you're exposing the hands. Men had few rules too. In offices, everyone has to keep the Ramadan fast, irrespective of their religion. No one can sip even a drop of water for fear of getting fired (and it can really happen). The worst of it all, there was a mosque nearby our house, where every Friday you could hear loud cheering, football match stadium-style. Except that this was live human execution, or stoning to death that would be going on.
I was always complaining about the repression in India, my homeland, but not any more. I came to my senses and understood what freedom truly meant when I saw the veiled women in Saudi Arabia. In fact, I vividly remember almost kissing the soil on my first trip back home. Liberty is all relative, isn't it?
At the outset, Riyadh appeared to be a beautiful garden city, with well-maintained roads, glamorous malls and people literally rolling in money everywhere. All this wealth in exchange for one birthright - your freedom. That's the skeleton that was taking rap lessons in the closet. Yes, I'm talking about the terrible human, especially womens' rights that would go on in a country that's stinking rich with its oil money. Being the capital city, Riyadh was trying to implement the Shariat Law to the maximum at that time. Hope things are better now.
Saudi women had to wear a full burkha covering their faces and we, the foreign women had to wear an 'abhaya' or a veil that could show only the face. Thank God. We had the privelege to at least breathe. That's for starters. Women cannot go out of the house without an accompanying male. Also, in buses, women have to travel in the back and the men in the front (where's Rosa Parks when we need her?). Most shops, women cannot go inside. Women cannot drive cars, the only jobs they can hold were as teachers or nurses.
Taliban could find kindred souls in Saudi in the form of 'Muttawas' or the religious police who would roam around everywhere on the streets and literally beat people with canes. I'm serious. Guilt? For men, if you don't stop wherever you are, even in the middle of the road and pray. For women, if your hair peeks out of the veil or you're exposing the hands. Men had few rules too. In offices, everyone has to keep the Ramadan fast, irrespective of their religion. No one can sip even a drop of water for fear of getting fired (and it can really happen). The worst of it all, there was a mosque nearby our house, where every Friday you could hear loud cheering, football match stadium-style. Except that this was live human execution, or stoning to death that would be going on.
I was always complaining about the repression in India, my homeland, but not any more. I came to my senses and understood what freedom truly meant when I saw the veiled women in Saudi Arabia. In fact, I vividly remember almost kissing the soil on my first trip back home. Liberty is all relative, isn't it?