Somehow I missed this. In my blurry jet lagged state of mind I suddenly saw on Instagram that I had received 399 Likes to one of my responses. That is huge, gigantic even. A black man spoke poignantly of the founder of Mecca, a black woman, Hagar.
Me: Thank you for this!! I just came from Mecca. My first visit. I became a Muslim at the age of 77. Better late than never.
This is the link: https://www.instagram.com/reel/CmrxooVrlOB/?igshid=MTc4MmM1YmI2Ng==
I can only speculate that this was written several months ago because my Mecca Umrah was in December of 2022. I did return to Mecca in July of 2023, passing through, but not for worship.
399 is my all time record for Likes to my Instagram responses. My MBS Like tally is now at 382. This counting game is starting to resemble an Arab horse race – perhaps one of those endurance races made through the desert. Gambling is forbidden in the Islamic faith, therefore I cannot place a bet on which Response will win.
Yesterday I was so proud of myself as I did not seem to be suffering from jet lag. Waiting in the hotel lobby, I met and spoke to a fascinating Muslim woman who worked for Saudi Airlines. She marveled at my energy, following our conversation went on to enjoy fantastic Armenian food at the hotel’s Mayrig Restaurant. I had made plans to begin research the King Fahad National Library in the morning. Woke up at 3 am with the realization I was going nowhere – fast. Jet lag caught up to me. It was problematic because I was to meet AK and one of his esteemed colleagues, we were going to ‘catch up’ and perhaps have dinner. Napped in the afternoon, allowing me to be conscious for the evening’s festivities.
The two arrived, it was almost like magic. AK arrived dressed in a thoeb. I had so missed seeing Arab men so handsomely clad. Canadian guys in their shorts, jeans, T-shirts and fat bellies were not a pleasant sight to behold. A thoeb is so elegant, always pristinely white, pressed, impeccable. In the past conversed with a young married Muslim couple.
Me: If I were to wed again, my Muslim marriage contract would specify that I would not be responsible for any washing, starching or ironing. That would be far too much work and not worth it. I would agree to cook, set the table, put dishes in the dish washer etc. I would even let my husband take a second wife, as long as I got out of laundry responsibilities.
They: Oh, that’s nice.
I do not think they were taking me seriously. AK has been negotiating my dowry contracts, he can be enlisted for further work. A Muslim woman’s father is usually responsible for dowry negotiations but my father is most probably dead. AK was a natural, we spoke of his performan over dinner.
Me: AK did a great job, with the older esteemed museum owner. We had agreed to a million dollars.
AK: Yes, but we got into problems with currency exchange. Alexis was asking for American dollars and he was offering Saudi money.
Me: It was a deal breaker as it would have only been about $325,000. We were open to further offers but the deal feel through. Oh well, easy come, easy go.
This expression, used especially in spoken English indicates that a relationship or possession acquired without effort may be abandoned or lost without regret. It means that something that is achieved easily is also lost as easily. It was my first visit to his famed museum about two and a half hours drive from Riyadh. He just happened to be there and we fell into conversation. Well not exactly, as he only spoke Arabic and I only speak English. However, there were many translators present for the ‘negotiations’. I will write more of the museum and the antiquities surrounding it at a later time.
My career as a lawyer required many contract negotiations in the past, but this is a ‘horse of a different color’. The phrase “horse of a different color” means an unrelated or only incidentally related matter with distinctly different significance.
However, should such negotiations continue I hope that it is like riding on a bike – it just comes back to you. The phrase riding a bike is a (simile) Said of skill that, once learned, is never forgotten. it’s a skill, or a learned pattern of movement that neurologists refer to as ‘procedural memory’, more commonly known as ‘muscle memory’. This is a type of unconscious, long-term memory, where a person can recollect something without having to think; they have no direct, conscious awareness.Albert Einstein once said, “Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving.”
Goodness knows I keep moving, back now In Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. AK and his esteemed colleague brought a bouquet of flowers, white and yellow roses with a welcoming card attached. I feel so blessed to be with people who are kind, thoughtful, caring and appreciative. This was not my recent experience in Canada where my interactions with many people filled me with trepidation. The synonyms for trepidation will give you an idea about how I am feeling about the situation: dread, fearfulness, apprehensiveness, anxiety, worry, nervousness, tension, misgivings, unease, uneasiness, foreboding, disquiet, disquietude dismay, consternation, alarm, panic, trembling, jumpiness, jitteriness, the jitters, a cold sweat, a blue funk, the heebie-jeebies, the willies. This afternoon thought in Middle Eastern terminology that Edmonton, by and large, felt like a desert, Saudi Arabia feels like an oasis.
Here excitement is palpable, as the September 23 Saudi National Day approaches. I am so lucky to be here for the festivities. Attached is a reel, taken from the window of my Riyadh hotel room. The adjacent building is not usually green, but has been bathed in green light. It is lovely
Also attached is a photograph of the scene, the welcoming card and the flowers, taken out of their wrapping and placed in water to protect their freshness. Presenting me with flowers is a welcome custom. I was given flowers to take on my return flight to Canada. They were allowed on the Air Qatar flight. Reached the Montreal airport hubbub, met a Muslim family returning to Edmonton. Impulsively gave my bouquet to their pre-adolescent daughter, receiving a look of gratitude. However, upon arrival in Edmonton I was forced to wait near the exit door waiting for my wheelchair. Everyone hurried past me. Neither the girl, nor her family said goodbye, nor express gratitude.
My Saudi people: Oh no!! That is awful!
Me: Yes, it was! I was heartbroken, as that is the attitude of Canadian Muslims toward those new in the faith. You can see why I am SO incredibly happy to be back here. Saudi Arabia, not Canada, seems like home.
