I was nervous about visiting Saudi Arabia. As I sat on the
plane, I thought about all I’d read of the treatment of women there, in this society that was as strange to me as ours was to
them. When the flight purser announced we were starting our descent into
Riyadh, I put on my borrowed abaya and hijab and hoped for the best.
We were to be in Riyadh for just over a week. I was producing and
co-directing a documentary about Isadore Sharp, who started the Four Seasons
hotel chain. Saudi prince, HRH Alwaleed Bin Talal, had bought the chain with
Microsoft’s Bill Gates, and we were interviewing him about Mr Sharp and the
purchase of the Four Seasons brand.
As unofficial guests of HRH, we had our visas
fast-tracked, and were lucky to be staying at the Four Seasons Riyadh inside
the 99-storey Kingdom Tower, which oddly enough (given that alcohol is
forbidden here) resembles an enormous bottle opener.
As an woman, I wasn’t strictly allowed to work in
Saudi Arabia, nor was I allowed to travel with anyone who wasn’t my husband or close
relative. My male boss and co-director, should anyone ask, was my “father.” I’m not sure what would’ve happened had anyone asked about
the married cameraman or unmarried sound guy who were traveling with us.
We were met at the landing gate by one of HRH’s people, and as we
were escorted to customs, I became extremely conscious of my gender. The lines of men in traditional long white thobes were
long, (I didn't see one other woman,) and as we waited for our
passports to be stamped I felt their eyes on us – no doubt wondering why we
were jumping the queue. Even the guys felt it – they were wearing long pants
and long-sleeved shirts, and looked as western as could be.
Customs cleared, we walked out
into the still and humid air, climbed into two black SUVs, and were driven to
the Four Seasons Riyadh to begin our adventure.
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