Security to the nth degree

I had occasion to meet with some new friends who happen to be all expat Anglicans to share a meal together at one of the larger expat compounds. I want to discuss the security issue since my experience last evening is arguably a microcosm of the Saudi expat experience in this regard. After securing a reliable NGHA driver (in effect my employer's taxi service), we left the hospital grounds for a 30-minute drive to the far outskirts of Riyadh. Given that we were just past rush hour and beyond central city Riyadh, the traffic was less than hair-raising. In fact it was a peaceful  drive and in the dark could enjoy the horizon of lights off the highway, including a mile or two of what in the US might have appeared to be large and numerous Christmas Tree lots outlined in lights. This was the Camel Souk or market for this popular commodity - and fortunately was able to make out several of the animals on display... At various points the darkness along the highway was interrupted by the garish lights of a block or two of contiguous shops (imagine the Monroeville business district strip in miniature) proclaiming their wares in Arabic. I could identify coffee shops, a pharmacy, and a dry cleaner but the rest were a blur of Arabic script and harsh lighting.

Once we reached the compound, I realized the immmensity of it, easily 3 x the size of my home compound which has about 250 units. The security procedures were correspondingly impressive and daunting. As in my compound, all cars are stopped, the driver and passengers show their IDs and the hood and trunk are opened for a cursory check for explosive devices. In Yamama III this is done with regularity but with perhaps less than high enthusiasm, performed as a necessary routine. Well, the whole process was ratcheted up several notches at the mega-compound, I'll call Happy Acres. Once the auto inspection was completed both the driver, an amicable Pakistani who was one of the more cautious drivers to whom I entrusted my fate, and I were ushered into a Security Guard office where we emptied our pockets and  each went through an airport security inspection device. My driver was also manually frisked but I was spared that indignity, presumably since I was so obviously Western and perhaps since I had worn my suit and best tie for the occasion... Having passed this scrutiny, we the drove the gauntlet of jersey barriers and blockades into the compound interior. To complete the image, the outer compound walls are topped with rolls of barbed wire that would have deterred Steve McQueen, if not Rambo or the former governor of California...

Once inside I went into the Guest Office, where I had my photo taken - glad that I wore that tie! - surrendered my Iqema card (the universally required residence ID for all Saudis and expats), and was given a compound pass. Then I realized that I had no clue as to the location of the meeting other than the generic "Admin Building". To my relief and surprise a shuttle bus was waiting for some other guests who were attending a live theatre performance in the Auditorium... Well the friendly confines of Yamama III were beginning to pale in comparison in terms of cultural opportunities and infrastructure thoughI actually prefer the smaller scale, intimacy and more relaxed climate at YIII.

Our hosts, a British couple who were expat lifers informed us that the population at Happy Acres included officers of the British military (RAF and Royal Navy, though the nearest shoreline is about a two-hour drive). This accounts for the higher level of security as well as certain amenities including a non-alcoholic bar (BYOB, apparently) and the occasional entertainment in the auditorium ... whereas I'm grateful to be able to get clear reception (black & white not color) on my villa TV of MLB, NFL and NHL games via the US Army station broadcasting to Europe, Africa and the Gulf Region...

The meeting included a typically diverse group of expats with folks from Germany, New Zealand, the UK and the US. Our presider was an ARAMCO employee who with his wife is also from the States. The fact that she was wearing a deep yellow jacket with a scarf with black accents led to the inevitable Stiller references though they were not genetically 'Burghers.

So in summary, my take home messages from this experience are (a) that it is crucial to have a dependable driver who speaks your language, (b) regardless of nationality the bonding among expats is usually quick and genuine even if not deep and (c) never leave home without your Iqema ID!

I never found out the title of the performance (though it certainly was not King Lear nor Rent!) but understand that the production was created and enacted by a troupe within the compound... so the arts are alive and well even in the remotest of outposts - the 4th take home message.