The loneliness of being away from home

VISITING a new furniture shop on Tahlia Street in Jeddah recently one night I noticed that all of the Filipino salesmen were smiling politely and saying "good evening sir" to me and other customers. If one were in a hurry or insensitive it might seem like everything was okay, but it wasn't.

There was a tinge of sadness and quiet desperation in their voices and facial expressions. It looked like they were fighting with all of their might to put a brave face on it, to show the world that despite all odds they were okay and were going to make it. After walking around the store for a few minutes, followed by one of the Filipino salesmen who diligently quoted the prices of all of the items I inquired about, I asked him how long they had been in the Kingdom.

"Three months" was his answer. "First time to go abroad?" I inquired. "Yes," he replied.

In that simple conversation I tried to convey the message that there were nice people in this country, that not all people would scream at them or treat them badly.

Looking for something to buy, I found an interesting copper-colored metal photo frame and handed it to him. "I'll take this," I said, not wanting to seem rude after having inquired about the price of everything and then walking out empty-handed. That just wouldn't do.

I know from personal experience that the first six months in the Kingdom are the worst ones; if you can survive them then you can practically survive anything else. Although I am Saudi, I didn't grow up here, and with my mother being American, the difference of Saudi society also shocked me in the beginning.

I don't think many Saudis stop and think about how different and alien their culture and society can seem to foreigners who come to live here. Even Arab workers in the Kingdom find it hard to adjust. "I'm leaving after my contract is finished in four months and never coming back," a Moroccan waiter told me recently in a coffee shop. "Why?" I inquired. "Because it's too closed here. I can't bear it."

So you see, it's not only Filipinos who find it hard to adjust to life here.

I really think that all Saudi employers should be required by law to provide certain benefits to their workers to keep them happy. For Filipinos, access to The Filipino Channel should be guaranteed. I have a friend, Lito, who works for a fast-food chain in Dammam and his company doesn't provide him and his co-workers with any satellite television at all, not even with CNN or MBC Channel 2, which are free.

After 10 hours of tiring work, wouldn't the small investment in satellite television be worth it to provide one's workers with a means of relaxation? It goes without saying that happy workers are better workers, but that is unfortunately is hardly paid attention to here. Which is too bad, because not so long ago, before the oil boom, we Saudis were also quite a poor nation.

In our newfound oil wealth, we Saudis should thank God for all of our blessings and try and show some appreciation by treating our foreign workers with the respect and kindness they deserve. Just providing them with a job and accommodation is not enough. We must empathize with them as human beings, not just as employees carrying out their work duties.

When we import millions of foreign workers to help build and run our nation, isn't it our responsibility to also absorb and accommodate some of their culture? We cannot expect to force foreigners to adapt to some of the harsher local ways, and expect them to be happy. Human interactions are two-way streets, and just as we expect them to absorb some Saudi ways, we must absorb some of their ways.

An Indian friend told me recently the story of a Christian maid from Kerala who was tricked by an agent in Kerala to accept a job in Jeddah working for a Saudi family. I say tricked because the family wanted a Muslim maid. The agent promised them that the woman was indeed Muslim, without telling the woman about this. She went off to Jeddah and was shocked when the family badgered her constantly to pray. When the maid finally blurted out that she was in fact Christian and not Muslim, the wife of the employer began verbally abusing her. Her only way out was to run away from the house and be sent home.

When I recounted this story to a Saudi friend recently, he said, "Why do so many foreigners keep coming here if they are supposedly being treated so badly?" I replied that they came because it was still worth taking the risk of being treated badly and making a living than staying back home and wallowing in poverty.

My answer didn't seem to convince my friend. Of course, most Saudis do not abuse their workers, but most also do not empathize enough with their human condition. The Saudi family had the right to be angry when they found out their maid wasn't Muslim, but they should have vented their anger on the agent who tricked them, not the poor maid.

If more Saudis took it upon themselves to truly befriend foreigners and bring them into their homes to show them how they live, then I think many more foreigners would go away with happier memories of their stay here rather than with the rancor and bad feelings that some foreigners have when they leave. But in the end, I must admit that it is also up to each individual worker to make an effort at being happy here. Being away from your home and family is hard for anyone to bear, but by building a new life here, with new friends and activities can help dull the ache of being
homesick and lonely.

Comments or questions? E-mail the author at rasheed@arabnews.com.