Incident at Tabuk

John got the call as we were packing up and getting ready to catch our flight to Tabuk. There were no details as of yet, only that there had been “an incident” in Tabuk and that said incident could thoroughly mess up our next site investigation. All we knew for certain was that we would no longer have local transportation provided for us. We were on our own.

Once on the ground, I needed to get a car – something big and fast would be my first choice. We were learning more about the incident itself, and the phrase “revenge squads” kept coming up in conversation. My choice was the fastest car on the lot, a Lexus ES 350. It had an annoying turbo lag, but seemed quick enough and stout enough to get us out of trouble with alacrity. It was also a shiny black Lexus, which made us look like big shots, and hopefully, the big shots weren’t going to get harassed.

The incident, as it was eventually revealed, was a traffic accident between an American in a large SUV and an unhelmeted Saudi motorcyclist. The motorcyclist didn’t survive the encounter. Enshallah.
On occasion, this sort of incident can get the people riled. Just imagine that you’re the mob, and one of your own has just been offed by an infidel. Would you accept the decision of your god to take this pilgrim’s life, or would you thrash out at anyone who believes differently than you? From my point of view, this was a matter of expecting the best, but planning for the worst.

Ultimately, there were no incidental issues, and we got to tool around Tabuk in a flash car for a couple of days. There were other issues, of course. There are always other issues.

Typically, expatriates in Saudi Arabia are housed in western compounds, where we have a lesser chance of subverting the pious. In the north, this was a group of single story villas within three perimeters and also within the base perimeter – they really didn’t want us sullying the people there. The villas were constructed by the Corps of Engineers in the 1960s to house their people while constructing the adjacent Military City, and it showed. Each villa was equivalent – an old, dirt colored concrete building with fifty year old dirty finishes on dirt lots barren of practically all vegetation. The neighborhood looked like those fake cities that the Department of Energy set up to test nuclear weapons – the empty towns with scattered toys and clotheslines. Sort of depressing, but we did get local fare within a few miles, so we ate well.

In Tabuk, I think the villa complex was originally built by Aramco. It was encircled by a couple of four meter concrete and razor wire walls. Here we had a nice two story villa with regular internet access and irrigated, fruited grounds. The problem was the camp restaurant. Not that the food was bad, but the service sure was. Our last night there, one of us ordered the special, baked lasagna. Now, you’d think that serving the special lasagna would be a matter of spatula-ing a hunk out of the pan, tossing it on a plate with the vegetable du jour and bringing it to the table, but you’d be wrong.

Who knows what they were doing, but they eventually served a stone cold corner section, and only after our other two diners had finished their meals entirely. We swore we’d never return which, in all likelihood, is exactly what will not happen. Not much of a threat since the project doesn’t require we come back.

Back in Riyadh, we’ve been staying at Eskan Village, a very large complex of single and two story villas with multistory, multifamily structures at one end of the compound. There’s room for a few thousand residents. Back in the middle of the last century, the Saudi government thought that they should bring the camel herding nomads in from the desert and set them up all civilized like. It didn’t stick. The American armed forces (and flunkies, sycophants, and hangers on), however, seem to like it here, and for good reason. The villas are nice.

Ours have been single storied, three bedroom places, with modern kitchens and baths. The entire roof is accessible and under shade (a nice spot for one of the Cuban cigars they sell at the haji store). There’s cable TV and daily towel service. Plus, the restaurant has well trained servers, a varied and fresh menu, and they serve bacon. Tasty, tasty bacon. Upstairs, they serve beer. Tasty, tasty beer. It’s not like I’m an addict, but when someone tells me that their god arbitrarily says I can’t have something, I want that something.

We haven’t tried the pool, or the driving range, the spa or the gym, but I’m sure they’re very nice, too.

We’ll hit the final western compound for my last couple of nights in country. Word is that it’s the best one of all.