When the Whanau visits.... Arabic Falcons

Shortly after we’d arrived in Saudi, I made a list of the three things I wanted to do most before we returned to New Zealand. The first was visiting the ancient Nabatean trading post of Madain Saleh. Done. The second was seeing a traditional Arabic falconry display. The third, and probably most simple, was spending an evening in the desert enjoying a traditional Arabic meal around an open fire under a starry night sky. I decided that the second of these would be an ideal activity to organise while my son was visiting. 

What to do When the Whanau visits Riyadh: the Familiar, the Exciting and the Unexpected

First up was the familiar, well for me at least, not so much for my son who’s been the visiting whanau. Our destination was Al Musmak, the old fort beside Diera Souk that overlooks Riyadh’s infamous Chop Chop Square. Historically the fort's important because it represents the creation of Saudi Arabia. In 1902 the young Abdul Aziz bin Abdul Rahman Al Saud returned from exile in Kuwait and in a fierce and heroic battle reclaimed the fort from the occupying rival Al Rashid family. It's just outside the fort's entry gate that the battle took place. This gate is a very imposing 3.6 by 2.7 metres and as we walked through I pointed out to my son the spear tip embedded in the door, thrown by one of Al Saud's men. The fort's a traditional Najd mud brick construction with four conical towers and very thick walls. The walls are a deliberate design feature, they keep the fort cool in summer and warm in winter. The tall ceilings allow the hot air to rise to where small windows pull the air out. 

Inside we stopped by the Diwan, the King’s sitting room. This is a large rectangular room with traditional seating. It was here that we were greeted by two impeccably dressed Saudi gentlemen in traditional white thobes and red guthra. “Are you part of the visiting Finnish delegation?” they asked. I looked at my son’s black hair and tanned olive complexion and smiled. “No,” I said and then explained that we were not Finnish but rather New Zealanders: I was living here and my son visiting. 

It was quiet and pleasantly cool as we wandered through the labyrinth of rooms and passage ways. Al Musmak’s as much museum as fort, and we constantly stopped to take in both the displays and the architecture. I liked the sparse geometric designs along walls, the pattern of shadows across stone floors, and the old wooden doors, each one  different. 

We stopped for a photo beside the Be Careful Well. “How could you not with a name like that,” my son said to me, smiling. I discovered a photo of Gertrude Bell taken in 1916 with King Abdul Aziz and Sir Percy Cox. We saw photos of Riyadh in the late nineteen forties when it was little more than a large village, all mud streets and ramshackle dwellings. So many changes and so much progress in such a short time. 

Engrossed in conversation, we stopped by the Diwan on our way out for one last glance. One of the men who’d greeted us earlier came over. It seemed the Finnish delegation had still not arrived. “You can go in,” he said pushing the cordon preventing tourist access, to one side.  We smiled and entered cautiously, wishing to make the most of the experience but not wanting to overstep his generosity. However the hospitality continued, with Arabic tea arriving and being served as we reclined comfortably. “Just wait, “ I said to my son, “there’ll be dates coming next.” We accepted the first cup and a second. However when the third arrived we politely declined, knowing, as we walked back to our bus, that we had an hour long trip ahead of us back to our compound, and in this country, comfort stops were not an option. 

Finding New Zealand in Ethiopia: Hudad Lodge meets Ponui Island

Wordsworth spoke about “emotions recollected in tranquility” as the basis of writing. I’ve been doing quite a bit of this lately, seated on my patio enjoying the early morning shade of oleander, date palm and bougainvillea. Here’s what today’s tranquility threw back at me.  A little bit of New Zealand in Ethiopia.  Hudad Lodge meets Ponui Island.

“You have to be careful,” a friend had said before we’d left Riyadh, “ Don’t walk around at night. You’ll fall off the edge.”  I didn’t fully appreciate the truth of her words until we arrived. Hudad Lodge is perched on a small plateau at the very top of Abuna Yosef Mountain in the Northern Ethiopian Highlands.

Graffiti Rock - Picnics and Petroglyphs

The last time we saw ancient graffiti was at Madain Saleh. There it was traders and camel caravans telling the story of first century BC Nabatean traders bringing incense and myrrh from Southern Arabia to the Mediterranean.

Today we saw rock art that was even more ancient, dating possibly as far back as 3000 BC. Although graffiti perfectly describes the random jumble of scribbled figures, the correct term is petroglyphs. Today’s story was quite different from that of Madain Saleh. We saw hunters, pastoralists and the animals that would have lived alongside them: the backward horned ibex, ostriches, camels, hyenas, antelopes and strange long bodied creatures with tails waving in the air.

Just A Coffee - From Riyadh to Ethiopia

Before sitting I wipe something white and viscous off the seat. I’ve chosen the best of the available family section eating booths. This one doesn't have vinyl ripped off the arms of the chairs, the table is wobble-free and the screens have fewer chips and peeling laminate than others. I’m out shopping with a friend in one of Riyadh’s malls and we thought we’d stop for a coffee. Somewhere different today we decided, not Starbucks. However the reality is that any cafe here is the same. Drab, tatty and dirty. The windows are sealed with an opaque sheen that’s peeling at the corners - there’s neither view out nor in. The poster above the counter says in bold red lettering, “Coffee roasted fresh every day.” It's the only splash of colour anywhere and I just don’t believe it.