This Global Walk Outside | Day 4: Saudi Arabia
Marhaba! I’m Jamienne, a midwestern gal currently living and loving the (very hot) Saudi life. My job teaching English brought me and my husband here 4 years ago, but now I spend my days wrangling my two toddler boys and studying Arabic. We live about 2 km from the Red Sea in the city of Jeddah.
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In our tan and grey concrete city, yards and grass are nearly nonexistent. Since most people live in apartment buildings, balconies are a family's only hope of an outdoor haven, and we are lucky enough to claim a large one as our own. Apartments with outdoor space are hard to find because, if they don’t already belong to the owner or their family, they are usually snatched up by a current tenant of the building as soon as they become available.
We spent our first 2 years in Saudi in apartments without outdoor space (or at least usable space), and in that span of time we had 2 little boys… thus finding a home with a large balcony became a pressing priority. After months of searching (and very nearly giving up hope) of finding a balcony-clad apartment, we stumbled upon the perfect place. And by “stumbled” I mean found the place on a housing app, sent my husband multiple times to scout it out, and bent our budget to make it work.
Our outdoor space isn’t the lush paradise one dreams about (hello, Saudi Arabia) but it’s the closest version we could get – just a little pricklier and dustier. A roll of turf is our stand-in for grass and, though I relentlessly attempt to coax colorful, flowery things to life, cacti are the only steadfast presence.
The balcony is surrounded by 8 ft walls, indicative of this culture’s extreme practice of privacy, but we have four little 1-foot windows we can use to catch a glimpse of the city below and the Red Sea in the distance. The tile floor becomes comically slick with a few drops of water but our lack of rain ensures that is rarely an issue.
A nice layer of dust usually coats everything to humbly remind us where we live. Dust upkeep is the most annoying aspect of outdoor space here (in addition to the deafening blare of the call to prayer by the mosque loudspeakers level with our balcony, five times a day), but we refuse to let that prevent us from taking full advantage of the space.
The balcony is actually a U-shape with two skinny parts running the length of our house on each side. We mostly stay in the bottom of the U, while the sides are reserved for AC compressors, bicycle races, and a graveyard for withered plants. We can access the balcony many ways - from two sliding doors on opposite ends of our house, a door in the middle that leads from the elevator hallway, and a staircase up one side that connects to the top level of our apartment. So accessible.
Most other balcony and roof apartments in our neighborhood are barren compared to ours. On weekend evenings, families in neighboring buildings will drag out pieces of wicker furniture and children’s bikes, and we’ll catch whiffs of double-apple hookah smoke in the air, but by Sunday morning everything has magically disappeared. Often their outdoor space is used for practical purposes, like hanging laundry, or it’s completely covered by canvas tents. We’re the crazy expats who fill our space with primary-colored playground equipment and splash around in our swimming pool at 9am on weekdays.
In the summer, our balcony doesn’t see much action because the tile is a blazing-hot hazard and there’s nothing pleasant about sitting outside at 9pm when it’s STILL 104 degrees. But in the winter when it’s not a sun-scorched, dust-whipped wasteland we love to grill and eat meals outside, have swimming parties, project movies on the wall, and let our kids bike and scooter to their hearts’ delight. I also enjoy the challenge of figuring out which plants can survive the elements. Upon the advice of a Saudi friend, I recently bought bougainvillea and adenium obesum (desert rose) - wish me luck!
When the confines of our balcony space become too much, there are a couple parks within walking distance of our apartment. There’s also a beautiful corniche area for strolls by the sea, beach resorts for expats, and of course the desert outside the city. However, a dress code still exists in the country (although it’s easing up), so if we’re at a local park or walking by the sea, I have to wear an abaya or “modest” clothing aka fully-covering and flowy. In the winter that’s not a big deal, but the other ¾ of the year, I love that I have a private outdoor space where I can relax in shorts and a tank top.
2020 made us even more grateful to have our space because our country enforced strict COVID lockdowns and there were several weeks when we were prohibited from going outside our home, even on walks. Our balcony saved us from becoming too stir-crazy. It has saved me on other fronts too. Spending time in nature is one of the best ways I experience God’s presence and, though I have to adjust my expectations of “nature” here – in the middle of a massive city, surrounded by poky foliage and treated to a scenic view of concrete and sky – our balcony has become a sacred place for our family.