The Arab

Chapter 2.-1

I need some air, so I open the window in my room. It’s the beginning of October, the air is fresh and crisp. This is the one thing I like about foreign countries. In the kingdom it’s almost always terribly hot, you can barely breathe, let alone open your windows. Air conditioning is a must in every building, all day, every day. That’s the desert for you. Nights are cooler, but I can tell you this: in the Arabian Peninsula we are ruled by sand.

I remember Amir’s remark about the pilgrimage, so I get my phone and I’m about to dial my father. I want to tell him well in advance to plan his journey without me. He always goes on pilgrimage with his sons, all of them if possible. Not that he wants his sons by different wives to be best friends, but he considers this his fatherly duty. Cousins usually come along too, which gets rather uncomfortable. Everyone wants the latest gossip about everyone else. We must steer clear of all worldly distractions during Hajj, no s*x and no alcohol, so there is really nothing else to do but pray and chat.

I put down my phone and gather my strength.

The usual fruit basket was waiting for me, so I decide to tip the staff generously when I leave. I nibble on a date, then I eat a few more.

The flavor of home!

There are several other things especially for me in the living room. A red and blue Persian rug is rolled up next to the sofa in case I wish to pray.

Of course I do.

A Koran is placed in the middle of the table, but I carry mine with me everywhere I go. I appreciate these brownnosing little favors.

I take off my suit and take a quick shower. I like the skill of these Americans in adapting to our requirements. They provided Bvlgari cosmetics instead of Hilton ones, and there are tons of clean towels too.

Okay… I’m rich, but why so many towels, when I have only one ass to wipe?

I lather the soap on my body and wash my hair too. Luckily, I’m less wiry-haired than Amir. My body hair and beard are strong, but women seem to like it. Whenever I shower before s*x I wonder what Western women think of my circumcision.

I’ve been thinking about it ever since an American w***e grabbed my d**k and told me she wanted nothing more than to see a circumcised c**k. So I showed her mine.

It’s nothing special really, just that my foreskin had been removed. Ignorant people used to think of this tradition as something brutal and cruel, but that’s not true. You don’t feel a thing when it is done, and there are certain advantages. I wasn’t circumcised in infancy, but later, when I was seven. This meant that I was rewarded with special gifts. I got my very first gold Rolex, but I only started wearing it later. At the time I appreciated the other gifts more: toys and some jewelry. The actual circumcision didn’t hurt, as the area was anaesthetized. It was over before I realized what was going on. My older brother was also circumcised at age seven, but my younger brother’s procedure was done in infancy. The advantages are very distinct: a circumcised p***s is much easier to keep clean, and s*x is better too. This is not only an advantage for me; I don’t suffer from premature ejaculation, I can go all night if I want to. When I talked about it with my twenty-year-old brother, Hakim, he just laughed and said, “Mine was messed up then.”

Circumcision signifies our appreciation of cleanliness, as it is connected to personal hygiene. There is a misconception that our people circumcise girls too. Islam does not command this at all. There are native tribes who do it, but mainly in African countries. I prefer intact genitalia on women; in fact, I insist on this. Not for her enjoyment, but for my enjoyment in f*****g women as nature intended, not only a hole. In my opinion c******l mutilation takes something away from a woman, and not only physically but mentally too. I have no idea why anyone would want that. Of course I understand the need to guard her chastity, which is a religious obligation for us, but I believe there are better ways to do it. Neither my mother, nor my father considered female circumcision necessary for their daughters. They firmly refused; in fact, this is not an issue in the royal family at all. Learned, enlightened people recognize the downside of their culture by gaining insight into other cultures.

Yes. The way we treat women might be a downside to our culture. But I can’t say it concerns me.

So this little blonde, Sarah—or whatever her name is—will soon see an Arab p***s.

I towel myself dry and brush my teeth. I glance at my full lips and I grin, because I know women find my mouth attractive. Nearly all of them want to kiss me, but I won’t let them. My male relatives have quite strong features: strong stubble, thick brows, full lips.

I brush my hair and put on fresh clothes. I choose jeans, which doesn’t happen very often, but I don’t feel like wearing a suit for a woman I don’t even want too much. I use moisturizer on my face and tidy my strong eyebrows. I like what I see in the mirror. I’ve always been grateful to my father for passing on his best genes to me. Of course it’s not all down to genetics; I look after myself too. I like experimenting; sometimes I shave my head, sometimes I let my hair grow to my shoulders. Right now I need a haircut but I didn’t get one before I traveled. I occasionally shave my face smooth too, but not often. I like my stubble and so do women. Those waxed, hairless male models totally disgust me. Appalling! Arab men would never deny their masculinity, that’s why we usually have beards. Our men only shave their underarms and their private parts.

I take very good care of my body. I’m lucky enough to be really tall; most men in my family are around 190 cm{3} in height. I’m even taller. But height is not enough reason for vanity; sports also play a major role in my life. I like water sports best, but that’s not really an option in Riyadh, so I adopted something truly American: I have a treadmill in my gym and I also employ a personal trainer.

My eyes are the greatest gift I got from my father. My brothers have dark eyes, like our mother, but I take after my father and have greenish hazel eyes; the border of my iris is almost yellow. Truly shiny eyes. I have noticed that most people who glance at me end up staring into my eyes for a long time. Or look away and look back again. Of course I mean women. When we were younger Amir once jokingly told me at a reception that he would gouge my eyes out. He was upset about the difference in our looks, although this never damaged his self-confidence. Nothing would. Arab men practically worship themselves; nothing can ruin their self-confidence, especially not something as superficial as looks. The Koran declares that men were created to dominate.

So let’s dominate that blonde tonight.

I dab on some perfume and put on the TV. The hotel staff scores another brownie point as it’s set to Al-Jazeera. I watch the news for a little while, and I’m reminded of the approaching date of the pilgrimage. I remember my duty and get my phone, which I throw on the bed.

I dial my father. It rings. It’s seven p.m. in New York, but two a.m. in Riyadh. I don’t mind, my father never resents me for such calls. I get very irritated whenever I receive late night or early morning calls. I differ from the head of my family in this matter.

It rings for a while, I’m just about to hang up when he picks up.

“Peace be upon you, son,” he says sarcastically, but I return the greeting instinctively.

“Aleikum salam, Father.”

I hear him sigh, so I wait for him to fully wake up. I glance at my watch; my girl will be here in two hours.

“Don’t even start. I hope you’re not calling to say you wouldn’t make it home in time for the pilgrimage. Hajj is starting soon and you must come back.”

I feel ashamed for a moment; he makes it sound like I’m a bad Muslim. There are five pillars of Islam, which are similar to the Ten Commandments of Judaism and Christianity. One of these pillars (the fifth) is the pilgrimage to Mecca called Hajj. Our religion was founded there, which makes Mecca a holy city for all Muslims. Hajj is a pillar that doesn’t have to be practiced regularly. We don’t need to go every year; once in a lifetime is enough. But of course, it’s in the best interest of Muslims to take part as often as they can. The second pillar, the Salat is the recital of the five daily prayers. A Muslim must observe this duty on a daily basis. At least he must try. Shops close at prayer times and believers go to the mosques or pray wherever they are. This is how it works in all of Saudi Arabia. Shops close even the modern malls for the twenty or thirty minutes of prayer time. There are exceptions though: the Shiite minority observes three daily prayers, but luckily there is no Shiite minority in the kingdom. I think there are certain masses Christians are supposed to attend regularly. We just have a bit more.

The first and foremost pillar is the Shahada, or declaration of faith. As the name shows, this means our belief in one God and the Prophet. We don’t recognize any other god but Allah, and we consider the Prophet Muhammad his messenger.

The third pillar has its equivalent in the Christian world: people make donations to the Church. We call this Zakat. All Muslims donate a certain percentage of their income to charity. Of course there is a difference between people’s obligations based on their wealth. A rich Muslim will not pay the same amount as a poor Muslim, and the Koran even specifies that anyone who has difficulties in providing for his family is exempt from the duty of Zakat payment.

The fourth pillar is what non-Muslims know as Ramadan. This is the fast, or Sawm. There are three kinds of Sawm, and the Ramadan fast is the most important, because this is a religious ritual that lasts through the month of Ramadan, from sunrise to sunset. Eating, drinking and s*x are forbidden during this time, but as soon as the sun sets, everything is allowed. This pillar is not a day-to-day duty, but it is observed for an entire month each year. Ramadan is a hard challenge, but Muslims kind of like it, because it represents purification, although it requires a lot of willpower.

So as I was saying, Hajj is very important for Muslims. My father raised us with strict religious values. He never demanded anything from me but unshakeable faith. And I do have that.

My eyes instinctively wander to the Koran and I decide to pray as soon as I hang up.

A prayer before s*x.

“I am really sorry, Father, but I can’t. Please take someone on my behalf to do my sacrifice.”

He says nothing but I hear him sigh. I think he is asking Allah to forgive me already.

“You said you would finish this business in New York on time.”