Leaving the Kingdom

Sophie and I likened our last few weeks in Saudi to the development of Stockholm Syndrome. Which Wiki defines as the following:

Stockholm syndrome, or capture–bonding, is a psychological phenomenon in which hostages express empathy and sympathy and have positive feelings toward their captors, sometimes to the point of defending them. These feelings are generally considered irrational in light of the danger or risk endured by the victims, who essentially mistake a lack of abuse from their captors for an act of kindness.

After a very challenging year, I kept hearing myself say, ole Saudi, she’s not so bad. We could hammer out another year here and be fine. Fact of the matter is, we could. We committed to two years, that’s what we thought we were in for and that’s what I’d geared up for. But come early June, we were presented with another option, to move to Dubai. And frankly, it’s the better option, so we’re taking it. That being said, I found myself a bit teary as we were driving down airport road with Helal at the wheel. I knew that the odds of coming back to Saudi in this life were slim to none, it’s a country that very few get inside to see, let alone live and experience. And it had been a life altering experience in many ways and those are always difficult to bid farewell too, regardless of the level of challenge. Since arriving in Dubai 10 days ago, I’ve been reflective of our time there and I wanted to record a few things I learned in my year in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia.

1. Contrary to the media we receive in the United States of America, Arabs, Saudi’s in particular in this case, do not hate us. We were treated well. I was asked often where we were from. When I responded the United States, the response was ALWAYS warm. “Ah, Americi, you are welcome here.” “America great country.” “Americi, very nice.” I never had a negative or derogatory remark and those that had visited or spent time in the States wanted to tell me about it and let me know that they enjoyed their time there. Many Saudi’s have been educated in America’s university systems, are familiar with our culture and have benefited from our way of life. They take those skills, that knowledge with them back to their own country and in large part use it to move forward Saudi Arabia’s infrastructure, efficiency and economy. Where they can of course within the framework of the monarchy. They like us and if they don’t understand our way of life, they are interested in learning more about it.

2. I knew this prior to going to the Kingdom…perhaps because as I have mentioned before, I have a soft spot for this part of the world, perhaps because I had studied Islam and the culture of the Middle East, or perhaps it is just because I am a reasonable human being. But not all Saudi’s are terrorists. Nor do all Saudi’s support or condone terrorism. And yet, still I am baffled by people’s questions and reactions when we say we live in Saudi Arabia or when we originally told people we were moving there. I am amazed at the level of ignorance surrounding Islam and it’s accompanying culture. All Muslim’s are no more terrorists than all Mormon’s are polygamists or Catholic priests all pedophiles. I never felt unsafe, threatened or nervous while in the Kingdom. I felt very much like I could move about, go where I needed and wanted to go without security being an issue.

3. Islam and the Muslims who practice it are worthy of our respect and admiration. I have told a few people recently that Saudi Arabia is undoubtedly the easiest place I have ever lived to be a Mormon. While I was not able to worship openly, I exercised my beliefs on a daily basis without being ostracized or thought to be peculiar. As a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, we are asked to fast once a month and donate the cost of those meals fasted to those who might be in greater need of them than we are. The Muslims do the same thing, except they do it every day, for 30 days in a row. We just recently wrapped up Ramadan in the Arab world and Wade tells me he had to hide his snacks at work so not to be insensitive to his co-workers who hadn’t eaten since 6 o’clock in the morning. Prayer is a large part of our religious practice. In Saudi Arabia, the entire country stops 5 times a day when Muslims are called to prayer. Stores close and meetings stop and everyone prays. It’s remarkable and in a lot of ways, beautiful. The sound of the call coming from every minaret in the city will always warm my heart. Even at 5:00 in the morning. We don’t drink alcohol, they don’t even let it into their country. They believe in being chaste and modest. I’m hoping for extra blessings as I wore garments, clothes AND an abaya when it was over 100 degrees outside. They preach peace, kindness and goodwill to their neighbors. Family values are as strong as I have seen anywhere in the United States and it is tradition to gather as a large extended family every Thursday night. Their religion is their culture and it is as ingrained in their identity as Mormonism is in mine. I first become intrigued with the Arab world, their culture, politics and religion when I was studying International Politics in college. But my admiration for their devotion to their God and to their faith has deepened. I believe that our Heavenly Father loves all his children without condition. His love, admiration and commitment to helping us through this mortal experience is not based on our color, our culture, our religion or even our decisions. His tolerance extends through all these mortal barriers and experiences and so should ours.

4. We are instruments in his hands and where we end up, the circumstances we find ourselves in, who we end up getting to know are rarely circumstantial. We are given experiences in this life that are intended to refine us and define us. A little over a year ago, just prior to leaving our home in Southern California, 11 of my girlfriends and I went for one last weekend hurrah. We signed up for a 200 mile relay race from Laguna Beach down to Coronado Island in San Diego. It was about 2:00 AM, I was trying desperately and failing miserably to get a smidgen of shut eye before I was slated to run 5 miles, nearly straight uphill in the next hour. I was so tired, but every time I closed my eyes, all I could think was, “You’re just going to have put your head down Katelyn and go. Just put your head down.” I had just come off a 9 mile leg 8 hours earlier in 105 degree heat, it had been brutal and I was stressed about another brutal leg. “Just put it down Katelyn, plow through, you’ll be fine.” My time came, something about the night sky, the cool air, maybe it was the dark and I couldn’t see the hills, whatever it was, it was brilliant. I started out with my head down, prepared to suffer and a mile or two in had lifted my head and was feeling great. Strong, fresh and great. I passed my baton to my team mate renewed with confidence that I still had it, that in another 7 hours, I could finish my last 7 mile leg strong. Little did I know that a few months down the road, telling myself to “put my head down” would become a mantra of sorts. Living as an expatriate in Saudi Arabia is a rich and adventurous life. But like all rewarding life experiences, it was not without it’s challenges. I was a single parent 75% of most weeks. Spontaneity and independence was largely removed from my life and my vocabulary. I felt very isolated, very much of the time. I was ‘stuck’ at home with my children almost everyday from 3:00 in the afternoon until 7:00 the next morning. I was exhausted.  The mornings were sometimes greeted with a “Katelyn, just put your head down.” And the nights once in awhile with tears and the supplication to my Father in Heaven, for sometimes, just the strength to go another day. But I have found, that the response from my Heavenly Father to that supplication and the plea was often times the same. “Keep that head down Katelyn. I have not failed you yet and I will not fail you this time”. I have come to understand that regardless of where we are in the world, that the daily frustrations, the heartaches, the challenges are not what define us, instead it is the courage and faith we exhibit in responding to them. If we can fall in bed at night totally defeated, the only hope lying in our Heavenly Father’s mercy and wake up to fight the battle again the next day, we’re going to eventually come out on top. And coming out on top will have defined us in a way that failure, quitting or daring not to take on the challenge in the first place never could have.

I don’t know that I will miss my day to day life in the Kingdom. Life is easier in so many ways for me here in Dubai. But I might miss her crazy ways, her insensibility, her provocation to make me find a another way, even her hard knocks. She defined me in a way no other country or experience could have. And for that I will always love her and remember her fondly.