American Chick in Saudi Arabia by Jean Sasson Read Free Book Online Page A

only three places where they are likely to feel comfortable enough to mingle with foreign visitors. Restraints are loosened in the Bedouin's own desert encampments, which can be found in various desert areas throughout the kingdom, at the camel souk, located on the outskirts of Saudi cities, and at the Bedouin souk, where Peter and I are now entering.

Chapter Eight: Bedouin Chick Malaak

    Just as Peter and I enter the souk, an old Bedouin woman beckons to me. Like the other women, she is selling homemade wares, but she seems to be quite the businesswoman and is sitting slightly apart from the others. In front of her is a display of handmade silver jewelry and cans of orange soda, which is the favored beverage of the Bedouin.
    Thirsty, I stop and dig through my small handbag for two riyals, which I offer to her.
    When she hands me the soda, I notice that her fingers are worn and that her thumbs are huge and out of shape.
    I've been told that the Bedouin women are responsible for much of the routine work of Bedouin life, including caring for and setting up the goat-hair tents. Such difficult work would certainly disfigure fingers and thumbs.
    I accept the soda and lift the hem of my veil slightly to sip the warm liquid.
    Her Bedouin veil style is unlike my own. While my entire face, including my eyes, is covered by black cloth, her eyes are revealed. Her black eyes flash character.
    Her cloak is old and frayed along the edges. She is a true Bedouin woman, with hennaed hands and calloused feet that show from below her floor-length abaaya . The country's oil wealth has not trickled down to her.
    I am eager to ask this woman many questions. Once again I silently berate myself for not speaking Arabic.
    She and I exchange long stares of curiosity. I know with an unexplained certainty that she senses I am not who I pretend to be. She knows that I am an impostor. Is it the manner in which I drape my scarf or veil? Is it the way I hold my cloak?
    Accustomed from puberty to the complete veil, Saudi women exhibit a distinct grace, holding their cloaks firmly in place with poise and style.
    I feel a surge of joy as I see the wrinkles tighten around her eyes, the only part of her face I can see.
    She is smiling.
    With her encouraging smile, I am moved to recklessness. I must talk to this woman! I motion for Peter to come forward. He will translate.
    Peter Sasson is a rare man who has mastered his emotions, taking every man and woman as he finds them, without attaching his expectations to their beliefs and behavior. While he often claims I am more emotional and melodramatic than even the dramatic Italians he knows, he appears to enjoy our dissimilarities.
    He watches my swathed face as if he can see it.
    I catch a small flicker of amusement as I explain. "Peter, I've got to talk to this woman. Tell her who I am, and..." I pause. I must think of a credible reason for veiling. The truth might offend her. My words come in a rush. "Tell her that I veiled out of respect. Tell her that I wish to speak with her."
    I can see Peter's big grin. He dips his head in agreement. "All right, then."
    Peter squats to the ground. He bunches his thobe under his legs and stares at the woman for brief moment. He then speaks slowly in Arabic.
    I'm happy to see that he carries his Saudi prayer beads in his right hand.
    Peter explains the situation to the woman, asking if she will talk with me.
    The Bedouin woman looks from Peter to me. I am a veiled woman in a souk in Saudi Arabia. She is most likely questioning why I need a translator.
    The lines around her eyes loosen and I know she is no longer smiling.
    The barriers of custom and religion threaten the encounter before it begins.
    "Is she a Muslim?" she asks in a demanding tone.
    " La. La. " (No. No.) He then puts forth the argument all good Muslims understand. "She believes in the same God, and your God is one God for the Muslims and the Christians."
    She gives a slight nod at Peter's words. She continues to