The Second Conversation

My most recent conversation with Bandar was on Wednesday, one of those strangely warm days after a spree of cold weather. It was as though the sun decided that it had enough of this silly winter weather and was going to warm things up for at least a day. I started to perspire a bit just wandering over to Union Grounds to find Bandar but was nothing compared to the walk Bandar made from his place off campus. We chatted about the weather for a while and both agreed that it came from nowhere and was wholly unexpected. I moved here from a cold state and he from a warm country and it seems neither of us really understand the erratic Texas weather yet.

I asked about the weather in Saudi Arabia and learned that it was as I guessed: very hot. I've never actually stuck around in Texas for the summer and I'm frankly quite scared of the obscene temperatures I'd encounter if I did. Apparently it's no better in Saudi Arabia. Bandar didn't seem too partial to the heat of his home country. In fact, as we began discussing the differences between Saudi Arabia and the United States, Bandar was always straightforward and never seemed idealize or misrepresent his homeland.

He spoke of the influence of Islam on the laws and rules in Saudi Arabia. Islamic persons aren't allowed to either drink alcohol or eat ham and it's illegal to sell either as a result. Bandar seemed wholly unconcerned about the absence of ham but the alcohol was a different matter. The way around the rule, it seems, is to know people from other countries who had come to work in Saudi Arabia (there's good money for European and American workers there!). These workers bring alcoholic beverages into the country with them and might be convinced to share.

These Europeans and Americans also tend to bring their religions with them too and I wondered aloud how it was living as a Christian in an Islamic country. I half expected to hear that it was a big issue and it was rare to find a practicing Christian in the country. Bandar quickly banished my hasty assumption and told me that there were plenty of Christians in the country, and he knows quite a few himself. Plenty of Christians, but no churches. It was okay to be a Christian, but you have to keep it mostly to yourself, worshipping in your own home. There's no requirement to participate in the multiple prayer times during the day, but there's a stringent social code to adhere to in that regard. You can't keep a shop open during prayer time, even if you're not Islamic and not praying. That said, when you close your shop, you can't wander around the streets (because then you're rubbbing in the fact that you're not praying) and you can't just stay in your shop (because you could be helping a customer). It was an intruiging look at the state of religious freedom in a different country.

We moved on in topics, and talked for a while about what it was like getting out of the country. Bandar spent some time lamenting the difficulty of getting a visa to the United States, though it's fortunately much easier than it was after the September of 2001. He laughed and said it was very fortunate he wasn't named Osama or Muhammad, and though I hoped he was kidding, he wasn't - it's apparently very hard for persons with that name to be granted a visa to the US. I knew from our last conversation that Bandar had been to most every tourist location in the states, but I hadn't thought to ask him what other countries he had been to. I did this time and was treated to a bit of a shock. I was sitting across from a world traveler!

And when I say world traveler, I mean it. Bandar recently spent seven or eight months traveling across the world, staying for 20 or 25 days at each place he visited. I asked for descriptions of the places and he leaned back in his chair and looked off to the side and into the distance, clearly at ease and happy to reminisce about his months of travelling. I got to hear stories about the places - oh so many places! - that Bandar had been to and to say I was jealous doesn't do the feeling justice. Even the stories of muggings in other countries held a sort of allure. Bandar told a story about seeing a man get clubbed by a group of men, and that failed to dampen my excitement about the foreign countries. Besides, he said the police in Rio de Janiero were quick and were on the scene in a moment. To then have to admit that I had only been to three countries outside the United States (two of which are Canada and Mexico, and not even a warm sunny beach in Mexico, much to Bandar's dissappoinment) made me feel uncultured. Bandar treated me to a list of recommendations and insisted that if I ever go to the carnival in Rio that I would have to take him along. I don't know that I can ever take him up on that offer, but I sure want to now!

As we began wrapping up the conversation, the topic turned to schoolwork in the upcoming days and Bandar mentioned his frustrations with the English language. For him, reading, listening, and speaking came easily and all he has left to do is just expand his vocabulary. The issue arises with writing. In arabic, words are spelled just as the sound and that certainly isn't the case in English. He recounted the conversations he would have often with his teacher, going something like this:

Bandar: Why is there a k in the word "know"?
Teacher: Because there is.
Bandar: No, really, why?
Teacher: Just because.

And I had no answer for him either. What torture we inflict on those attempting to learn the English language! Why is it that so many words have silent letters, that t's often make the sound of d's (Bandar is baffled that we pronounce the word water as "wah-der"), and that so little in spelling actually makes sense?

It almost makes me wish that another language were the world-wide standar, but then I'd have to learn another language. Isle stik with Inglish, thank yew very much.

Er, I mean: "I'll stick with English, thank you very much."