Tariq A. Al-Maeena

The general Saudi perception of an expatriate rarely goes deeper than the external façade of that individual. Whether he has a personal life, family or offspring, or whether he deals with complex family issues does not come to mind. Yet such things do exist. And while perks and privileges often buffer the sacrifices of the Western expatriates, it is our friends from near and the east that suffer the most.



The decades of prosperity generated by the oil boom era created many opportunities and many Arabs and non-Arabs shifted their families to the region. Improved standard of living, uninterrupted water and electricity supply, safety and security and good health facilities motivated them to stay on. Also many Asian families chose to live in this country near the holy places and in an environment where Islam was visible in practice.



There were several advantages of living in the Gulf. Even the lesser skilled Asian workers were able to secure decent jobs and salaries. Many were able to erect nice bungalows in their home countries. They were able to help their kith and kin raise their standards of living. With money earned working in the Gulf, many were able to carry out the task of educating and marrying off their daughters and sisters, a considerable financial burden had they to do that while back in their home countries.



But there were also few problems attached to living here. In the early eighties for example, many expatriate communities had no schools. The ones that came up provided sub standard education. Bored housewives doubled up as teachers and administrators. The social interaction process of the children also suffered. They were virtually cut of from their extended families. The worst affected were those who sent their children to Arabic schools.



These children did not find complete acceptance with the locals because they were strangers. Sadly, the people in their home country rejected them too because they had picked up strange habits and tastes. They belonged neither here nor there. The unluckier ones among them ended up spending a good part of their lives in the hostels or boarding schools in distant lands, away from the warmth and comfort of a family atmosphere.



After high school they were not accepted in public universities of the host countries despite scoring well in the exams. In the home country, the whole system of education was different. Despite all these problems, these families held on. They hoped that some day the laws would change and they would get the nationality, something taken for granted in most of the developed nations. The complicated business laws and high risks ensured that the expatriate made no investment in the host countries. With little foresight, billions of dollars could have been stopped from draining out of the Gulf countries. The wise and the lucky ones adopted the go-West policy.



As each year neared its end, the heads of the families experienced extreme anxiety fearing that their contracts might not be renewed or they would be browbeaten to accept less desirable terms and conditions. This anxiety trickled down to the other members of the family, mainly their kids. Each year, hordes of families had to leave because their services were no longer required. The after service compensation being less, these families were left in the lurch. These people were too young to retire and too old to be hired again.



It might have been a bit easier for the Arab families because of a common set of cultural values. But, for the South Asians particularly, if it was difficult leaving it was worse settling down or rehabilitating themselves in their home countries. The men had become too weak to struggle in the mad business environment back home. The women too had become far removed from home.



Some men resorted to sending their families, to the home countries with disastrous results. Lack of guidance and a relatively easy access to money halted or constricted educational achievements of their wards. There were some children who did well and for others their parents had to pay hefty bribes to secure seats in the medical and engineering colleges in the homeland. But most suffered, destined to be forever lost.



These boys and girls, who had been born and brought up here; who spoke the local language; who fought over which soccer club would win; who could drive cars as recklessly as the locals could; who knew how to don a ghutra and a shimagh flawlessly, or flit about in a fancy abaya; these kids who preferred Arabic gahwa to tea, and whose mothers had developed the act of cooking local Kabsa into a fine art, the pain of leaving the only home they have known for the unknown is very distressing.



Most of these children were high achievers in the field of education, but unfortunately became victims to a system that did not have the foresight to use their presence effectively.

 

— The author can be reached at talmaeena@aol.com. Follow him on Twitter @talmaeena