This past week marked the passing of Saudi Arabia’s all-time favorite American, Captain Joseph Wade Grant.  The first pilot to fly to the Kingdom, Grant ended up staying as the personal pilot to the infamous King Abdul Aziz for two years, and was key in helping Saudi Arabia start the national Saudi Airlines.

The amount of attention Grant’s passing received was nothing short of impressive.  Making front page headlines on all of the major newspapers, with memorable quotes from the King and Crown Prince themselves, there was no room for doubt that Captain Grant was a man of honor.

In the article, two points of interest stood out to me above the rest.  The first was that the Royal family suggested that Grant’s service helped foster the deep relations that the Kingdom would establish with America over the years.  The second was that Grant was born in Stockton, CA.  Wait, what? Yes, the same Stockton, California!

(For my unacquainted readers, I was born and raised in Stockton, California and owe any street cred that I carry with me whatsoever due solely to that fact.)

I’m not sure how many opportunities I’m going to get to impress people in this country with the “small world” coincidences that continue to fall in my favor, (first Santa Barbara, now Stockton) but leave no doubt in your minds that I will be the second most favorite Stocktonian in the Kingdom by the time I say my goodbyes! (Now I just have to get used to telling people I’m from Stockton and holding my head high at the same time.)

Upon further research, and without a hint of his disappearance in any Stockton newspapers, I learned that Grant was in fact merely born in Stockton; and grew up elsewhere, but the shoes to fill are still massive.

Fortunately, he too made his mark on the Kingdom in only two years time… giving me just over a year now to bask in the glory and high esteem that is, coming from “the City of Stockton, California.”

In other news, Jack FM in Jeddah is still playing old Korean War Propaganda narrations on the US Military Forces radio station.  A small price to pay for all of the quality Classic Rock hits that you want.

In an event of unprecedented hype and magnitude, ten of KAUST’s fiercest athletes took to the open waters in the first annual Bay to Beacon 1K swim at 9am this morning.  Followed closely by Coastlines Search and Rescue and members of the undercover KAUST Security team, the event was a huge success.

With calm waters and high spirits, all ten swimmers took to the sea, not knowing what hurdles lay ahead.

Nearly two-thirds into the race, four of the swimmers were forced to exit due to deceivingly warm water temperatures; and just moments later, the remaining swimmers received an onslaught of advice and proper insight from the undercover KAUST Security team, warning them of jellyfish and the foul taste of saltwater.  Heeding their warning, the six remaining swimmers courageously pushed forward towards the Beacon (of knowledge).

Upon arrival, the six finishers were greeted by the Search and Rescue boat, only to be escorted to the Yacht Club for celebratory Aquafinas and a formal congrats from the KAUST Security shift manager (signatures and photos all around).

Back on the mainland, there have been talks of making the swim part of the first KAUST sprint triathlon, or maybe just a hazing ritual for new coming students… either way, next year’s Bay to Beacon is sure to bring more excitement and vigor to the KAUST daily grind.

(Please kindly note that the actual events that transpired during the second half of the swim were given a ‘happy ending’ by myself to bring light to the ludicrous fact that swimming in the KAUST Bay is supposedly illegal; as we were rudely made aware of by KAUST Security this morning in our interrupted efforts to sneak in some fun, healthy exercise…but the happy ending sounded better didn’t it?)

Still recovering from a spring break for the ages (Romania, Bulgaria, and Turkey), I opened the Arab News yesterday to find this…

2 erring young men ask to punished

By ARAB NEWS

Published: Apr 19, 2010 21:31 Updated: Apr 19, 2010 22:25

JEDDAH: In what is described as an unprecedented occurrence, two young men arrived at a local court in Jeddah, pleaded guilty to consuming alcohol and then asked the court to lash them for their wrongdoing, Al-Madinah newspaper reported.

Court officials tried to convince the young men to leave by telling them that it was enough that they had repented. They, however, refused and so a judge sentenced them to 80 lashes in public. The men expressed their satisfaction at the verdict.

… In other news, an Iranian cleric is now blaming earthquakes on promiscuous women.

From the moment that I signed the two-year contract to go to KAUST, I told everyone who asked, that “Yes I will meet the King.”  I honestly thought that I would, but I had no clue it would happen in the manner that it did…

Last night, at the 25^th anniversary opening of Janadriyah (imagine a State Fair in the USA, but for an entire country) in the capital city of Riyadh, the magic unfolded… like a mosh pit at a Bad Brains concert with mascara-lined punks replaced by live TV cameramen, heavily clad militia, and a collective swarm of the richest, most powerful men in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia.

From what knowledge I have of the event, every year, the festival is patronized by the King, who proceeds to visit a specific exhibit.  This year, with his treasure, KAUST, making its debut; it was only fitting that he visit the school’s extravagant display.

I was fortunate to be chosen as one of six KAUST students to participate in the opening ceremony that was nothing more than a scaled-down version (but no less spectacular) of the inauguration last September here at KAUST.

As with everything that involves the King, there’s no way that anyone can make plans, because everything is done on the King’s clock (and rightfully so!).  This being said, while you might not ever know WHEN exactly he’s coming, you ALWAYS KNOW if he’s coming or not.

The preparations that go into every event involving the King would make for an Oscar-winning documentary.  From the millions of dollars spent by event planners to the hours and man power displayed by the Royal Guard to make sure that every venue is safe and secured; you’re constantly reminded of the significance of this single human-being.  Last night was no exception.

Running on very little sleep and an empty stomach (except for the dozens of dates and cups of coffee that Saudis from around the entire Kingdom generously offered us)  and without access to a sanitary bathroom, I need not describe the physical and mental state that of each of us when “the moment” came.

Leading up to the King’s entrance, we had been forewarned that there would be a number of cameramen, militia, and “important” people with him; but that was a gross understatement.  We had also rehearsed the exhibit walk-through countless times (if it’s possible to rehearse standing in one spot and hoping for a handshake) in hopes of a peaceful 5-10 minutes where the King could meet and greet some living products of his vision; but even the rehearsals went for naught.

On his golf cart accompanied by younger brother and Crown Prince, Sultan, and the King of Bahrain, the King eventually made a loop through the exhibit as the ‘eye of the storm.’  Fatigue completely washed away by adrenaline and “star power” that emanated from the King’s cart, it took a few swim maneuvers over stray guests for me to finally step out and greet him when he reached my section of the exhibit (fortunately I had good basketball coaches in high school and can get through a screen!).

Standing just a foot away from the man who is the reason or my being in the Kingdom, I couldn’t help but smile like his spoiled grandchild.  After being formally introduced by the KAUST VP and another staff member, I greeted him in Arabic, which he responded by offering his hand.

A moment frozen in time, I was praying someone was catching this handshake with a camera and that his response would be nothing more than a formal reciprocal welcome.  In a classic case of freezing in the limelight, he asked how I was doing (in Arabic) and what little Arabic I did know immediately left my mind; leaving me smiling like a foreigner begging for forgiveness for not being able to respond in this foreign tongue (but wanting to SO BADLY).  So with a bow of the head and a thumbs up, I gave a hearty “shookran” (thank you) and off went the first TRUE KING (and Head of State) that I’d ever met… phew, awesome.

What took place in the next instant though, is something that I NEVER EVER could’ve foreseen happening, and will surely never forget.  All of those beautiful years that I spent living the dream in Santa Barbara, at a school that I’d grown to love after being politely rejected by the likes of UCLA and USC (a pride point for most Gauchos) paid themselves off with the single shake of a hand.

On the second golf cart were another two VERY IMPORTANT Princes.  To be completely fair, I only remember ONE of them.  After being introduced as an American (by possibly the politest Saudi I have ever met, Mr. Al-Thunayan) the Prince closest to me asked what part of the USA I was from.  Before I could finish saying “California” he was telling me that he had gone to school at “UCS” (followed by the longest pause of my life, probably 1 second, not even kidding!) “B.  UCSB!”

Still partially blacked out from just meeting the King, all shields were instantly removed and I was completely taken aback.  As if suddenly talking to yet another fellow Gaucho, I jumped back, made an announcement for everyone around us to hear and demanded a second handshake from this “Good Man” (as I called him).  It’s always fun meeting someone who’s been to California here in Saudi, but this connection took my excitement to new heights.  For the next few minutes, walking with his cart as it was exiting the exhibit, we spoke as fellow Gauchos might about the physical beauty of Santa Barbara and how much we both enjoyed our time there.

Now completely blacked out, I must’ve looked like a crazed man who’d just won an NCAA Championship but hadn’t slept in a week and was seeing stars (at least that’s how I felt).

Coming to my senses soon thereafter with the rest of the students, I could only think to myself, Damn!  With a Gaucho at the helm, maybe the Kingdom IS the place to be after all…

(photos to come soon, Inshallah.  KAUST wasn’t permitted photographers who some reason, but official pics come in next week)

I’m not well-versed in the subject of hosting a concert by any means, but I like to think that I have a fair estimation of what can be expected by performers ready to take people to another place through their music before the show.

Besides what I’ve learned through movies and during my brief stint as a drummer in a punk-pop band back in the ‘90’s, the last personal experience I had with an artist performing on my bill (relatively speaking) was with the overrated, uninspiring Shwayze… until this last weekend that is.

With the (financial) backing of the KAUST Administration, we brought the Jeddah Legends to Thuwal for a show of unprecedented proportions.

As one of the major proponents of the show, I was invited to spend time with the Saudi hip hop pioneers before the performance.  Except for the lack of scantily-clad sorority girls, an over-abundance of Corralejo Tequila, and an under-sized rapper; the pre-game was exactly as I imagined it to be in the KSA.

Sipping green tea while nibbling on homemade cupcakes, the entourage and I made small talk in the living room of a staff home, talking about the craziest shows they’ve performed (including a Red Cross show in Florida less than two weeks after 9-11) and the logistics of being a musical performer in Saudi Arabia (which involves getting the blessing of the Ministry of Information, whose kids just happened to be fans of the JL).

The scene following the routine preparations was something that not even I could’ve foreseen in all of my enthusiasm.  In a moment, with lights flashing, the bass bumping, and EVERY student moving with the music, months of pent-up energy and frustration was immediately released into the room and all was right at KAUST.

Having become a “KAUST Legend” in a matter of hours, the best feeling of the night was the feedback from the Saudis, especially the women; who kindly challenged me to one-up myself and bring another performer to KAUST, ASAP!

Elissa, did you hear that?

(This piece is largely a generalization on my part, based on observations alone.  It also has nothing to do with my trip to ARAMCO last weekend, sorry Ernesto)

During the fourth and final week of the WEP, I was lucky enough to participate in a class titled “Leadership Training through Improvisation.”  Taught by three members of BATS Improv in San Francisco (including one Saudi national), the course enlisted Saudis, non-Saudis, men, and women.  No stranger to the limelight, I soaked up the class for all that it was worth and felt like a star (didn’t hurt that I was the only native English speaker in the class).

What I never could’ve foreseen was the enthusiasm and participation on the part of the Saudi students throughout this short course.

In a country where on-stage performances are entirely non-existent, there are no cinemas, and music is largely frowned upon; I was amazed by the un-tapped creativity of the future leaders of the Kingdom brought about by this simple course.  When everyday life only allows you to be as creative as the ingredients you put in your shawarma, it was obvious that these Saudi students were as eager as I was to take advantage of the opportunity to shine.

One stick that I continue to chew with the Kingdom and its ambitions to become a “knowledge-based” economy is the fact that creative outlets for the youth appear to be numbered.* When sport and videogames replace an appreciation for music and the arts, instead of complementing them, (if videogames can actually “complement” anything) I struggle to see ANY country producing a generation of “thinkers” that are as progressive as the economic investments that we see on a near-daily basis here in the Kingdom.

I can guarantee the future leaders of the Kingdom (college-aged and younger) don’t feel it yet, but the pressure to perform for their country is building (as in other emerging countries such as China and India).   It’s a blessing to be able to appreciate the simple things in life, as many of my Saudi friends do quite well; but it’s also a responsibility to perform to certain levels when the Kapsa is served to you on a silver platter.

The creative potential has been located.  So as they say in my home state of California, “drill baby drill!”

*I’m completely biased on this issue because of my upbringing, so forgive my ignorance.

In my first four months living in Saudi, I never associated the Kingdom as a “colorful” country.  In fact, I was starting to get concerned when by December, everything I saw took on the color white, black, or tan (a side effect of ‘Saudization’ maybe?).  Needless to say, my PADI Open Water certification training this past weekend couldn’t have come at a better time.

Setting out with five equally driven compadres, we headed to a private beach in North Obhur to get a taste of yet another piece of the Saudi ‘high life.’

As could only be expected given my past track record of scuba diving (a Discover Scuba course in Mozambique), the weather was freakishly off the beaten path during the entirety of the training.  It may have been poor timing on our end, but it was definitely ironic that in a country where we beg for cooler weather constantly, the only days that we wanted sun, we got wind and rain.

Putting all of the weather’s incongruencies aside, the class proved extremely enjoyable and almost mundane in terms of skills required.  Eager explore the depths of the ‘Sea’ (not to be mistaken with an ‘Ocean’), there’s no way any of us could have expected to see what we saw upon submersion.

Set against the back drop of a 110’ vertical coral wall teamed with visibility levels exceeding fifty feet, we found ourselves entering a new world.

After getting used to the routine equalizing and mask clearings (which doubled as sinus-clearing efforts for me), I was finally able to embrace the beauty before my eyes; living coral, fish EVERYWHERE (of all colors and sizes), and a sense of calm and adventure that I had yet to experience living in the Kingdom.

With a serious case of the travel bug and this new certificate in my wallet, there’s no telling where I’ll find myself next in this never-ending journey.  I can guarantee that if every private beach in Saudi provides this same deadly combination of clear waters, marine life, beach volleyball, and cold drinks; I won’t be leaving the country for my next vacation anytime soon.  (I say that now…)

(pics to come soon)