Dhahran to Hofuf 1953


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Middle East » Saudi Arabia » Dhahran
January 26th 2007
Published: January 26th 2007
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Saudi Arabia did not want tourists. Foreigners were restricted to the area near the Persian Gulf where ARAMCO’s settlements and areas of operation were. Relatives of employees could visit for a limited time, but others needed to be requested by ARAMCO for specific reasons. Christian clergy serving our community lived in Bahrain and were admitted as “consultants” on Fridays only. When Lowell Thomas visited, he was called an entertainer, which he fulfilled by having a slide showing for the residents of Dhahran. Only those who had business in Riyadh were allowed to go there. A woman doctor from our clinic went to Riyadh to treat a female member of the royal family and returned with the king’s gift - a brocade sari, made with real gold, which she put on display one day for us to see. The exploration teams, and men constructing piers, pipelines, and other essential facilities traveled further along the coast or into the desert, but most of us must remain within an area which included Dhahran, Abqaiq, Ras Tanura, Al Khobar, Jubail, Qatif, and furthest of all, Hofuf and the surrounding oasis. There was a beach within Ras Tanura, where we could swim in turquoise-colored water so salty that one could float without effort, and there were other beaches only a short drive from Dhahran. Half Moon Bay was a particularly lovely one, except during spring when the water would be filled with stinging jellyfish or even poisonous sea snakes. Swimming was not a sport in which the Arabs indulged and few were seen around these beaches, so we could don swimsuits and enjoy the water when the sea life was less hostile and there was at least one man in the group to drive us there. Everyone who passed through the gate signed in or out. This was a precaution because the desert could be dangerous. If anyone failed to sign in within the estimated time of return, a rescue team would be sent out to search.

ARAMCO offered free tours for employees and their families. When I learned of this, I wasted no time signing up. The first tour offered was one to Hofuf, said to be the third oldest continually inhabited city in the world. I did not learn until after I returned that this was the first time women were permitted to go on this particular tour. No veils were required, but emphasis was placed upon appropriate clothing. Everyone carried a bag lunch. Large containers of drinking water were brought along. Salt pills were also carried in case they were needed to prevent heat exhaustion. We left early in the morning before daylight. A couple of Saudi soldiers accompanied us. Our first stop was at Abqaiq, 50 miles from Dhahran, for breakfast in the ARAMCO dining hall. Then the bus, equipped with large sand tires, left the paved road and headed out over the desert sands, driving for hours. At one point we made a rest room stop. “Rest room” was inaccurate as there was nothing resembling a room. The leader of the tour pointed to two dunes and said, “Women that way and men that way.” Afterward we drove on until the walls of Hofuf came into sight in the distance. A few black Bedouin tents could be seen spread out over the sand nearby, and as we approached, we saw a number of camels outside the city walls with their Arab keepers. The gate was open. Here was an ancient walled city straight out of the Arabian Nights. The only modern thing in sight was our bus. I felt as though I had time traveled into a thousand or so years BC. There were no motorized vehicles of any kind, no sign of electricity, nothing like a bike. Donkeys or camels carried goods or pulled carts. Goats wandered about among the mass of people. Most men wore the usual ankle-length white garment that resembles a nightgown. Some wore a flowing black cape over this. The gutra or head cloth was often wrapped around the head and over the nose and mouth to protect the face from the dust in the air. The women were covered from head to foot with a black veil, held together in front. They appeared to be walking tents.

This was the suq, the Arab Friday market. Another wall enclosed the mosque. All we could see of the mosque were the minarets rising above the wall beyond which no infidels were permitted to go. Against the wall and stretching back from the large open area into long alleys shaded by thatch roofs, were the stalls offering many things for sale. There were goldsmiths and silversmiths who fashioned jewelry between customers. Purchases were placed on a scale, and charged by the ounce. Leather camel saddles and bags, copper containers and gracefully shaped brass coffeepots were among the things offered for sale. Arabs crowded around the food stalls, where the fragrance of spices mingled with less pleasant animal and outhouse odors. Displayed in bins were cinnamon, cardamom, thyme, sesame seeds, many spices, herbs, and seeds I could not identify, olives, dates, dried fruits. Raw meat hung from ropes. It and the people sitting nearby were covered with flies. One young boy sat beside this display, ignoring the fact that flies crawled all over his face, lips, nostrils, ears. Another boy carried off a hunk of meat hanging from a cord. There was a special section where candies and cakes were for sale. Bargaining was expected and seemed to be an entertaining game, with crowds accumulating around the excitement of a buyer and seller engaged in hearty dickering.
With a small group of the other women on our tour, I maneuvered through this amazing hubbub of exotic sights, sounds, and smells. We stopped to examine a display of brass objects, and soon discovered that we were the center of attention from a group of Arab women who crowded close around us, chatting excitedly, feeling of the material of our clothing. We could see through the opening in their veils to a thin black veil that covered the face. Some had a black mask with holes for the eyes and mouth. A veil under a veil. No wonder we were such a curiosity. One of our group knew enough Arabic to communicate. They had never seen an unveiled western woman.

Attendance at the mosque on Friday noon is compulsory for Arabs. When that time came, many of the venders were in the midst of very intense and exciting bargaining. Neither buyer nor seller wished to interrupt the exchange, so they delayed. Soldiers went through the suq with sticks, literally driving men toward the mosque, with the stick often striking a back or shoulder. This ended our visit. It was time to leave.

We ate lunch in a nearby oasis shaded by date trees. Our guide called it Hofuf Gardens. Water from a spring had been contained in a large pond, which did not appear to be very clean. Rest room facilities were a trough through which a small stream of water had been diverted. The pool provided the only water for washing up. Someone said the date palm likes its feet in water and its head in hell. It was very hot with an abundance of flies, but we had already learned to tolerate these conditions in Hofuf. The pleasantly appealing scenery was a restful place.

We stopped again in Abqaiq for supper. On the trip to Dhahran, we saw the sun set over the desert. The dunes turned red and cast deep shadows. Then we drove through blackness until we could see the flickering glow of oil well flares miles away in the distance. We were late, and found they were waiting for us at the gate with some suspense. Most of us had not been told in Abqaiq that while we were on our tour, a strike, more exactly a rebellion, had been started. There was considerable concern for our group, but we had found no indication of hostility. Our encounters with Arabs had all been friendly. The strike was over the next day, put down quickly by undoubtedly harsh measures.

I took advantage of time off during Christmas and the Muslim holiday of Id al Adha, which happened close together, and made my first trip out of Arabia to visit Egypt. I will tell about this next.



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