Chapter 6
The Compound
May 2008
Sitting at the pool with Nizam, relaxing and watching my daughter enjoying herself in the water, was pretty cool for a Wednesday afternoon. It's about 5.30 and this of course marks the start of our weekend.
"The time really flew the last five years right? It feels like the other day, we were sitting here on our first night in the compound." Nizam obviously brought this up because at this point everyone knew I had resigned. "Yah, can't believe it myself," I had to concur. "Do you remember that night?"
He wanted to take me down memory lane, because it's obviously what we all like to do, isn't it? Reminiscing is what fuels us, keeping the torch burning so to speak, for whatever we've done in the past.
"Like it was last night," I said with a half smile, almost as if I was the only one there.
24 September 2003
I remember the drive from the airport was a long and tedious one. I was exhausted, both mentally and physically and longed for 4 simple things-a cup of decent coffee, a cigarette-make it two, a hot shower and a bed. I could deal with the world tomorrow. One of our Irish managers, Sean, met us at the airport with the school driver. As we were driving, he was going on endlessly about the ethos of the school and how fortunate we were to receive compound accommodation. My head like in the plane, was once again just leaning against the glass of the window. I closed my eyes for a while, but the bumpy roads caused me to jerk awake every time. "Any of you guys need cash?" Sean asked. While some of us were liquid, one or two had no money. Most of us resigned more than a month before we actually travelled, so money was bit of an issue. All of us out of principal agreed to take a loan from Sean. He gave us each a crisp 200 riyal note. So at least we were off to a good start. A 200 riyal might as well have been a 1000 riyal if you look at the purchasing power it had back then.
As we pulled into the long driveway of Rania Compound, we came across a few soldiers with automatic firearms. This was the first checkpoint. They were dressed to kill. With prying eyes and inquisitive minds they wanted to know exactly who we were. Although our arrival was pre-arranged with management of the compound, the soldiers still found the need to overstate their authority. I must admit it was very intimidating. It was a usual occurrence for compounds to hire the army to protect its citizens from any outside forces and in the absence of war, these soldiers took their jobs very seriously. They mostly interrogated Sean, and he was of course less than impressed.
Our school, rented about 7 villas and 8 apartments in this compound, at an average of 50k a pop. So one would expect that the kind of revenue generated for Rania. we would be treated like VIPs. Needless to say Sean was completely livid at the treatment he was getting, as he was a resident as well. After numerous explanations to justify our presence, we moved on to the second check point. These security guards worked for a private company contracted to the compound. After about five minutes or so, sorting out the villa or apartment numbers, we were finally cleared.
As we were slowly cruising the short streets of the compound, I noticed a lively, almost energetic atmosphere-kids playing outside, teenagers parading or modeling looking for attention, and men and women walking and exercising. It felt almost normal, eerie even, especially coming from the airport.
It felt like we were guests artists in an episode of The Twilight Zone. During my previous stay in KSA, I was invited to a compound barbecue once, but never lived the experience first hand. The rest of the guys were very pleasantly surprised as well.
We stopped at the first villa. Sean called out, "101-that's you Joe." I got out of the bus and starred at a square shaped prefabbed little house, with a porch, a carport, and a front door with a big brass number plate. The place looked like it was transported by a massive truck and just placed on this spot. Anyway, the location was good as it was close to the front entrance, making for easy comings and goings. As I entered, I noticed an open plan lounge-dining room to my left and a kitchen on my right. Straight down the passage I faced the main bathroom, with bedrooms flanked on either side. Just before the bedrooms, I found another little bathroom, which was equipped with an automatic washing machine. The place was fully furnished, including a dishwasher, and satellite television. For a dry-walled prefabbed building, it was amazingly finished. Plumbing and electricity was contemporary enough to fit into any home. I just wasn't used to seeing walls made of wood or cardboard-couldn't quite put my finger on it.
Anyway after taking it all in, I went to the kitchen to find something to drink and found a little goody pack on the kitchen counter. It was filled with everything from tea, coffee and bread, to biscuits, juice and cereal. Sean seemed to have gone out of his way to make sure that we were settled in and sorted with the essentials. It was nice of him to have done that. After the 200, I didn't expect anything else.
I immediately boiled the water, and made me a strong cup of Nescafe. Just leaving my bags in the passage, I flopped down onto the sofa, a brightly colored floral one, but it was comfortable all the same. I lit a cigarette and just sat there, with my thoughts keeping me company. As I dragged one puff after the other, I noticed something peculiar. There were cigarette markings everywhere. It looked as if someone, didn't like using ashtrays. Cigarettes were put out on the coffee table, the side tables, and even the dining room table. I could understand the multiple layers of dust everywhere, but the place was extremely filthy.
The kitchen was a mess with calcified or 'fossilized' stains. I guess I was too tired to notice it before. The bathrooms were dressed in the same stains. The state of the main bedroom was unfathomable and the worst of all the rooms. The previous tenant didn't only hate ashtrays, it seems he hated bathrooms and toilets as well. I think he must've misunderstood the meaning of the word en-suite. I wished someone had just told him that it didn't mean doing your business right there where you slept. There were no bad odors though. He must've moved out long ago. Nevertheless it was just plain disgusting.
The other bedroom had other strange items lying in the middle of the room. There was this chandelier or lamp that belonged in a pub or pool club. There were also all kinds of signage, like "Merry Christmas," "Party Time," and of course "Club 101". The last sign put the pieces in place for me. The guy that lived here before, used his place as some kind of club and who knows what else.
Like I said I'll deal with the world tomorrow. So I just sat there, making it my permanent place for the night. The phone rang. I nearly jumped out of my skin. It was so loud and looked like it belonged in "That 70s Show". I didn't realize that people were still using these kind of handsets.
"Hello." "Joe?" "Yeah?" "What you're doing? Join us at the pool man." "Ok-Give me fifteen minutes, let me jump into the shower" "Oraait-alright, see you later." I of course didn't know where the pool was, but it wasn't a problem to find. Nizam just wanted to take in everything at once. He was excited about our new surroundings and wanted everyone to experience it with him.
It was Wednesday night and the pool area or commonly known as the recreational center (rec. center), was bustling with activity. Passing a tennis and basketball court, I walked through the center building before exiting into the pool facility. Loud teenagers were playing table tennis and shooting pool, creating the perfect holiday atmosphere. I found the guys sitting on patio chairs, beside the pool, savoring the aesthetics. "Guys, it looks like we made the right decision to sign this contract. It's looking good." Sam was of course more than happy with the first impression. "This is the life! I could get use to this," added Faiq. None of us expected our housing facilities to be this good. It was the total opposite to what my housing was like in 1995, so I was naturally happy. The guys then went on about each others' places, comparing items, furniture, structure and so on. Although tomorrow was officially a holiday, we had to go in and meet our employers. The school bus was going to pick us up at 10 the next morning. I was the first one to leave as my eyes were starting to deceive me. I had to get some rest. "Hello sofa." I flopped myself down again, this time out for the count.
Chapter 7
First Impressions
....to be continued
 |
| Main Swimming Pool at the Rec. |
May 2008
Sitting at the pool with Nizam, relaxing and watching my daughter enjoying herself in the water, was pretty cool for a Wednesday afternoon. It's about 5.30 and this of course marks the start of our weekend.
"The time really flew the last five years right? It feels like the other day, we were sitting here on our first night in the compound." Nizam obviously brought this up because at this point everyone knew I had resigned. "Yah, can't believe it myself," I had to concur. "Do you remember that night?"
He wanted to take me down memory lane, because it's obviously what we all like to do, isn't it? Reminiscing is what fuels us, keeping the torch burning so to speak, for whatever we've done in the past.
"Like it was last night," I said with a half smile, almost as if I was the only one there.
24 September 2003
 |
| Apartments at Rania |
As we pulled into the long driveway of Rania Compound, we came across a few soldiers with automatic firearms. This was the first checkpoint. They were dressed to kill. With prying eyes and inquisitive minds they wanted to know exactly who we were. Although our arrival was pre-arranged with management of the compound, the soldiers still found the need to overstate their authority. I must admit it was very intimidating. It was a usual occurrence for compounds to hire the army to protect its citizens from any outside forces and in the absence of war, these soldiers took their jobs very seriously. They mostly interrogated Sean, and he was of course less than impressed.
Our school, rented about 7 villas and 8 apartments in this compound, at an average of 50k a pop. So one would expect that the kind of revenue generated for Rania. we would be treated like VIPs. Needless to say Sean was completely livid at the treatment he was getting, as he was a resident as well. After numerous explanations to justify our presence, we moved on to the second check point. These security guards worked for a private company contracted to the compound. After about five minutes or so, sorting out the villa or apartment numbers, we were finally cleared.
As we were slowly cruising the short streets of the compound, I noticed a lively, almost energetic atmosphere-kids playing outside, teenagers parading or modeling looking for attention, and men and women walking and exercising. It felt almost normal, eerie even, especially coming from the airport.
It felt like we were guests artists in an episode of The Twilight Zone. During my previous stay in KSA, I was invited to a compound barbecue once, but never lived the experience first hand. The rest of the guys were very pleasantly surprised as well.
We stopped at the first villa. Sean called out, "101-that's you Joe." I got out of the bus and starred at a square shaped prefabbed little house, with a porch, a carport, and a front door with a big brass number plate. The place looked like it was transported by a massive truck and just placed on this spot. Anyway, the location was good as it was close to the front entrance, making for easy comings and goings. As I entered, I noticed an open plan lounge-dining room to my left and a kitchen on my right. Straight down the passage I faced the main bathroom, with bedrooms flanked on either side. Just before the bedrooms, I found another little bathroom, which was equipped with an automatic washing machine. The place was fully furnished, including a dishwasher, and satellite television. For a dry-walled prefabbed building, it was amazingly finished. Plumbing and electricity was contemporary enough to fit into any home. I just wasn't used to seeing walls made of wood or cardboard-couldn't quite put my finger on it.
Anyway after taking it all in, I went to the kitchen to find something to drink and found a little goody pack on the kitchen counter. It was filled with everything from tea, coffee and bread, to biscuits, juice and cereal. Sean seemed to have gone out of his way to make sure that we were settled in and sorted with the essentials. It was nice of him to have done that. After the 200, I didn't expect anything else.
I immediately boiled the water, and made me a strong cup of Nescafe. Just leaving my bags in the passage, I flopped down onto the sofa, a brightly colored floral one, but it was comfortable all the same. I lit a cigarette and just sat there, with my thoughts keeping me company. As I dragged one puff after the other, I noticed something peculiar. There were cigarette markings everywhere. It looked as if someone, didn't like using ashtrays. Cigarettes were put out on the coffee table, the side tables, and even the dining room table. I could understand the multiple layers of dust everywhere, but the place was extremely filthy.
The kitchen was a mess with calcified or 'fossilized' stains. I guess I was too tired to notice it before. The bathrooms were dressed in the same stains. The state of the main bedroom was unfathomable and the worst of all the rooms. The previous tenant didn't only hate ashtrays, it seems he hated bathrooms and toilets as well. I think he must've misunderstood the meaning of the word en-suite. I wished someone had just told him that it didn't mean doing your business right there where you slept. There were no bad odors though. He must've moved out long ago. Nevertheless it was just plain disgusting.
The other bedroom had other strange items lying in the middle of the room. There was this chandelier or lamp that belonged in a pub or pool club. There were also all kinds of signage, like "Merry Christmas," "Party Time," and of course "Club 101". The last sign put the pieces in place for me. The guy that lived here before, used his place as some kind of club and who knows what else.
Like I said I'll deal with the world tomorrow. So I just sat there, making it my permanent place for the night. The phone rang. I nearly jumped out of my skin. It was so loud and looked like it belonged in "That 70s Show". I didn't realize that people were still using these kind of handsets.
"Hello." "Joe?" "Yeah?" "What you're doing? Join us at the pool man." "Ok-Give me fifteen minutes, let me jump into the shower" "Oraait-alright, see you later." I of course didn't know where the pool was, but it wasn't a problem to find. Nizam just wanted to take in everything at once. He was excited about our new surroundings and wanted everyone to experience it with him.
 |
| The Second Pool at Rania |
 |
| Main Tennis Court at the Rec. Center |
 |
| Restaurant at the Rec. Center |
It was Wednesday night and the pool area or commonly known as the recreational center (rec. center), was bustling with activity. Passing a tennis and basketball court, I walked through the center building before exiting into the pool facility. Loud teenagers were playing table tennis and shooting pool, creating the perfect holiday atmosphere. I found the guys sitting on patio chairs, beside the pool, savoring the aesthetics. "Guys, it looks like we made the right decision to sign this contract. It's looking good." Sam was of course more than happy with the first impression. "This is the life! I could get use to this," added Faiq. None of us expected our housing facilities to be this good. It was the total opposite to what my housing was like in 1995, so I was naturally happy. The guys then went on about each others' places, comparing items, furniture, structure and so on. Although tomorrow was officially a holiday, we had to go in and meet our employers. The school bus was going to pick us up at 10 the next morning. I was the first one to leave as my eyes were starting to deceive me. I had to get some rest. "Hello sofa." I flopped myself down again, this time out for the count.
Chapter 7
First Impressions
....to be continued
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