A Camel At Bahrain Airport

My year in Saudi Arabia was arranged in haste. Brian Palmer, the CEO of the Saudi Arabian Swimming Federation (SASF), and ex-CEO of Auckland Swimming, made me the offer in a phone call and a week later an annual contract had been signed and I was on the airplane. I knew almost nothing about the countries I was about to visit. Bahrain, Kuwait, United Arab Emirates, Qatar and Saudi Arabia meant only oil, sand and war. Brian had told me my destination was the Red Sea city of Jeddah. But even my knowledge of the location of the Red Sea was limited to, “Somewhere over there.”   

I did read one or two internet articles and noted one that said, “The Middle East is a diverse, challenging, infuriating and ultimately fascinating environment. It’s not for the squeamish or the fainthearted.” The problems it said were:

Heat: This is obvious.

Noise: Many cities have horrendous traffic problems and there are the mosques with loudspeakers.

Pollution: Sandstorms leave dust in the atmosphere for days.

Bureaucracy: What you encounter will do your blood pressure no favours.

Rights and Equality: Abuses of human rights and discrimination on grounds of race and sex might offend you.

Customer Service: Expect to be delighted one day, and pitched into a stupor of disbelief the next.

Safety: The important thing to consider is how you cope with fear of the unknown.

I dismissed these warnings. After all, for two years I coached swimming in the US Virgin Islands where the local black population frequently, and with some justification, referred to Europeans as “complaining white people”. I was sure that problems in the Middle East were also being exaggerated by “complaining white people”. Besides here I was on a Middle Eastern airplane half way to Dubai and the service was as good as, probably better than, any western airline.

Brian had told me I would be met in Bahrain by a SASF agent who would take me to my hotel. Brian would arrive later that day and would spend two days with me in Bahrain collecting my Saudi Arabian visa and discussing my work in Jeddah. An efficient workable plan, I thought, and took another sip of my Emirates dry white wine.

Getting through customs in Bahrain further boosted my confidence. The queue was short, the officer was efficient and friendly and for $30 I had an instant six month visa. At 10.00am I walked into the reception hall looking for a sign with my name on it. But there was none. An hour later the reception hall was empty and there was still no SASF agent. Never mind, I thought, buy a Bahrain sim card, get a coffee and call Brian. Six hours later I was on first name terms with the friendly concrete camel protecting the entrance to Bahrain’s international arrivals terminal. Finally I got a text message from Brian. He was sorry. The SASF agent had not gone to the airport. I resisted the temptation to say I already knew that. I should, Brian said, get a taxi to take me to the hotel booked for me by the SASF. An hour later I arrived at the hotel but there was no booking. I paid and checked in.

Perhaps I thought there was something in the internet view – “Customer Service: Expect to be delighted one day, and pitched into a stupor of disbelief the next.”

Brian arrived late that night and we agreed to meet the next day. And I was delighted. For $175 a Saudi Arabian visa was secured and Brian explained my role in Jeddah swimming. I would, he said, be the CEO of swimming in the Mecca Province that includes the city of Jeddah. Although Mecca Swimming did not exist just yet “next week” a contract would be signed by the provincial Governor that would establish Mecca as a stand-alone swimming entity. And best of all he said “I’ve booked you into a “lovely boutique” hotel not far from the pool and your Jeddah office.”

Perfect, I thought, a new stand-alone swimming business of my own to look after, a copy of the Munich Olympic Pool to work in, a couple of Saudi Arabia’s best swimmers to coach and through it all living in a “lovely boutique” hotel.

I’ve been in Jeddah ten months now. The Mecca Governor did not sign the swimming contract next week, or next month or in the nine months since then. It just did not happen. The pool is fantastic but there is no office. And my “lovely boutique” hotel is a slum. Rooms are cleaned once a month, there is no hotel food and the reception staff clearly resent English speaking foreigners.

The only promise kept was the quality and character of the swimmers. They were and are exceptional. Some are refugees from war-destroyed Syria. They are humble, sincere people. One of them I am delighted to report has been provided with a visa to swim in the New Zealand Open Championships beginning at the Millennium Institute on 4 April. His name is Eyad and he will swim the 50 fly and the 100 and 50 freestyle.  

The Syrian swimmers visited me shortly after I moved into Brian’s “lovely boutique” hotel and were so appalled they disappeared down stairs and demanded that a cleaning squad immediately move into my room and make it fit for human occupation. To ensure the cleaning was done to their standard they purchased some serious disinfectant at a local supermarket and commanded that the hotel staff use only this product in their cleaning duties.                     

And now I know for sure that in Saudi Arabia there is a mountain of truth in the internet view – “Customer Service: Expect to be delighted one day, and pitched into a stupor of disbelief the next.”

MY FRIEND A CAMEL AT BAHRAIN AIRPORT