Naeem's Blog

I don't posit the question in the existentially philosophical way. I'm referring to the more mundane question that I hear all too often from my better half since moving to Saudi Arabia nearly 4 years ago.

We have gone through quite a few challenges and adjustments since me moved to Riyadh from Baltimore. Needless to say, life here is very different and sometimes very difficult.

And I'll be the first to admit that these challenges are magnified for my wife. So whenever these Saudi-style obstacles rear their ugly heads, I end up hearing the dreaded question, 'Why are we here?'

So I figured it would save me countless hours of frustration if I simply documented all the reasons for coming here (and staying here) and then when she feels the need to ask the question, I can conveniently refer her to my blog.

Yes, I know, I'm very thoughtful and considerate. I hear that a lot.

THE MOVE

Lets talk about our original reasons for making the move. I've never bought into the school of thought that says that Muslims must make Hijrah to a Muslim land. I don't believe that Muslims living in the West are sinning. So that was not a factor in our move.

At the time, we had been married for almost 10 years and had two young children (ages 6 and 4 at the time). Basically, we felt a need for a change of scenery. We both felt that our lives had become stagnant enough that a change would do us both some good. Fortunately, my company had a branch in Riyadh and so an opportune opportunity sprung up.

Personally, I had been longing to make a jump overseas for the purpose of studying Islam. Syria, Pakistan, and Jordan were options that I had realistically pondered. But I was just too afraid to make the jump.

So when this chance to go to Riyadh came, I was very excited.

Additionally, the thought of raising our kids in America also concerned us as Maryam was about to start kindergarten. We thought since our kids weren't in school yet, this would be a good time to check out Riyadh and see if it’s a better place for raising children.

Of course, the tax-free money didn't hurt, but in comparison to what I was making after-taxes in the US, I was fairing only slightly better in the transition (and that slight benefit of 4 years ago is now long gone as I haven't received a single pay raise since I came).

THE CHALLENGES

The greatest challenge of living here has been the lack of a social life. I was raised in Baltimore where I have life-long friends. My brother and sister both live in Baltimore. Most of my wife's family had moved down from Upstate NY to the Baltimore suburbs. So all this presence of family and friends was a source of great happiness.

Plus, we lived walking distance from our local Masjid and that allowed us to be regularly in touch with the 'heart' of the community. Due to our proximity to the Masjid, our house was often a convenient meeting place for family and friends.

All that came to an abrupt end when we moved away. And its not like we moved to a different city on the East Coast where other like-minded Muslims could be found. The move to Riyadh was an entirely different universe. As American-born Muslims, we found a very, very tiny community of American Muslims that we got along with.

This social isolation has been accentuated by the fact that Saudis, in general, do not socialize with non-Saudis. It is extremely rare to see that line crossed. And when it does occur, its in the context of marriage in which a non-Saudi marries into a Saudi family. The non-Saudi partner then introduces other non-Saudis to the Saudi family.

On a slightly contradictory note, I must mention that part of our need for change was founded in our socially active lifestyle. We both agreed that we needed a breather. We needed some time to ourselves. We needed to grow together and strengthen the triangle of faith between us and Allah (swt).

And in all honesty, I believe that we have made great strides towards that goal, especially through our regular trips to Mecca and Madina, as well as our joint Hajj two years ago.

In addition to the social void, there are the more local headaches. My wife doesn't mind the forced abaya since she covers anyways. Nor is the driving a big issue since we have a full-time driver. The greater challenges for her involve the overall abruptness of Saudi society. General manners aren't high on their list of priorities.

Overall she's gotten used to the pushing and shoving in the public bathrooms, the dirty stares in the shopping malls, the line-jumping at the grocery stores, and so on. But every once in a while, things will just pile up and everything will explode. That's when I hear the 'Why are we here?' routine.

For me personally the greatest challenge (besides the aforementioned social void) has been the lack of Islamic activities. The American Masjid is a different monster than the masjid found in the Muslim world. While the former is the heart and soul of the struggling American Muslim minority, the latter is strictly a place of worship – pray and leave. No youth activities, no guest lectures, no fund-raising dinners, no summer festivals. Just pray and leave.

Other nuisances and annoyances that I’ve gotten used to include the inefficiency of the bureaucracy found in all institutions from governments to banks to stores to hospitals. Anything which would have taken me less than an hour will now take more than a day. At first, I would get very upset and flustered, but over the years I have learned to approach these simple tasks with the expectation of delay, interruption, and disorganization.

Another adjustment that I’ve made is accepting the restrictions to my freedoms. For many Westerners this is an extremely foreign concept, but I consider it a trade-off that I’m willing to concede for the benefits gained (as listed below).

The prime example is the travel restrictions. As a non-Saudi under the sponsorship of my company, neither I nor my family are able to leave the country without the company’s permission. Same goes for opening a bank account or buying a vehicle. Another restriction is that only my parents or my wife’s parents can ever come to visit us – no siblings or other relatives.

Finally, the injustices and racial prejudices and oppressions that exist and are well-documented for all to read and see do in fact cause me consternation and alarm. It’s hard to turn a blind eye to the blatant classist racism that exists here. It’s hard to ignore the male chauvinism and the religious hypocrisy and the ineffective justice system and so on. I can never justify or defend such institutions, no matter where they exist. But I rationalize my residence here by the simple reasoning that problems exist everywhere – just in different forms and representations. KSA is no different.

THE BENEFITS

Having said all that, why do I believe that we are still here after nearly four years? Do I need to even mention the Haramain (Mecca and Madina)?

First of all, I can't emphasize enough the spiritual benefit of living in a city that closes down during prayer times. Countless times I have been 'caught' outside a store during prayer time, 'forcing' me to pray at the nearest masjid. What a beautiful 'inconvenience'! I mean, what is the dollar value of a prayer in congregation?

The freedom of not having to stare at the ground when I go to the local shopping mall (you brothers know what I'm talking about) is also a great benefit. The fitnah of the eyes is greatly reduced here in Riyadh. My inner struggle for spiritual purity is made so much more easier with the absence of these unhealthy images.

Overall security is another great advantage. I'm not afraid for my personal safety or that of my family's no matter where we are or what time of day (or night) it is. I have never once felt concerned with a group of young guys standing at a corner street. The worst they have done is shoot glances at my wife. But physical or verbal harm has never been a thought.

I've already posted on the Brown Man Benefit.

Although we haven't taken full advantage of it (we traveled to Turkey and UAE two years ago), but Riyadh's geographical location is very nice especially for American Muslims who are so far away from the rest of the world. We're driving distance from UAE and Bahrain. We're right in the middle of the Middle East. Turkey isn't very far away. Neither is North Africa. Europe is closer to us than to the US. Pakistan is a mere 4 hour flight.

The Internet is filtered. Overall, I don't mind the censoring since many of the nonsense sites are filtered. But sometimes it gets annoying. For some unknown reason Technorati is filtered. So are photos hosted on Blogger.com meaning that many of the pics on Blogspot blogs don't show up. However, the pros outweigh the cons as I'm a bit less concerned for my children when they will eventually start using the Web.

Labor is cheap. So hiring a driver and a maid is very common. Having had this ‘luxury’ for the past several years makes me wonder how I can ever return to a life without them. Man, I know I just came off as a real diva, but I’m just laying it all out for you, my dear reader.

But of all the reasons for us staying here, the greatest reason and the one for which I have yet to find an adequate counter-response is this: On the Day of Judgment when my miserable self will be presented to my Creator and I will be asked about what I did to raise my children properly, I can now answer 'Ya Allah, I searched the world for a proper place for them and in my humble assessment, the best of all the worst places I found was the land of your Prophet (saw) and I acted upon that judgment."

And if, God forbid, my children end up deviating from the straight path, my choice of society in which to raise them cannot be questioned, Insha'Allah – or more importantly, my *intention* behind settling in said society cannot be questioned.

In the end, I hope to answer to Allah that I turned away from the money, the freedoms, the luxuries, the friends and family, the local Masjid and everything else positive that America has to offer (and that my nafs so dearly wants) just to be in a society that I hope and pray is better for my children.

So that is why we are (still) here.