First two Weeks in Jeddah

Iv now been in Jeddah for two weeks, and already I’m finding it difficult to keep the boredom demon off my back, especially at work. My schedule is two-day shifts, two-night shifts and six days off. The aircraft are piloted by an amazing group of gentlemen from all over the world that work for Abu Dhabi Aviation. The aircraft are antiquated bell 412 with about a billion hours on them but are meticulously maintained by a fleet of very capably mechanics. So far I’ve had one 12-hour shift in Riyadh and four 12-hour shifts in Jeddah. The shifts in Jeddah have been a tumultuous combination of channel surfing with the inevitable thumb cramp, close calls with falling off the couch while napping, and hunting mosquito’s with an electric fly swatter like a super secret service ninja ranger seal. Luckily I think my training is nearly over as I haven’t fallen off the couch in two shifts and IV been able to keep the mosquitoes at bay, now if I could only avoid thumb cramps. When we actually did get activated for a call in Jeddah the pilot looked at the map and realizing that it was 300 kilometers away and in Mekkah he refused the call based on the fact that our crew of four (pilot, co pilot, doctor, and I) had 3 non Muslims and are unable to fly in or around the holy city.  Then we were grounded on account of weather, the weather ill talk about later. SO yes for those of you keeping track that’s 4 shifts with a grand total of zero calls!! Now when I was in Riyadh the ship is crazy busy we had 2 calls in 12 hours, I know painful right?

              Let me tell you about my EMS experience in Saudi so far. We are flying into unsecured landing zones, that are being bum rushed by locals that have never seen a helicopter before. Iv been told stories by other medics that have been working “pin in” car accidents that have had to stop treating there patient to get bystander’s that are holding there kid in one arm and a camera in the other hand out of the car that there trying to extricate the patient from. In other words patient care really doesn’t start until you get into the helicopter and have lifted off. Once your in the ship the doctor (well more of a med student than a doc) is the only one that speaks to the patient given the language barrier, but you cant help but laugh at the “Abbot and Costello” routine going on with there communication. For those of you that have never been in a helicopter they are extremely loud. Those headsets you see actors wear in movies aren’t just there to make us look like total badass’s, that’s the only way we can talk. Now picture this, we have two English speaking pilots, one English speaking medic and an Arabic speaking doctor and patient, but for some reason, I just cant get across to the doctor that no matter how loud he yells at the patient he wont hear him either because of the sound of the jet engine or because the doctor is wearing a headset and a the patient is not.  Once we get to the hospital the fun really begins, we land and a trauma surgeon meets us at the helipad, which I thought was pretty cool until he started yelling at us for bringing in a patient that didn’t require his specific services, so we are then handed off to the poor ER doc who looks like he hasn’t slept in a year. He’s a nice guy, given that he works in a hospital that has the appearance, technological ability, and intelligence level of the old “Scenic circle care center.” Upon exciting the ER doors back to the helipad there are about 75 people all standing in front of the ship taking pictures and posing like they’re at Disneyland. Will it be like this in Jeddah? I guess ill have to run a call to find out.

            Ah the weather, well I was told I was arriving in Jeddah during the rainy season, and that there typical rainy season is about two weeks long and consists of about two good storms. This time last year that information was entirely inaccurate. A city of 3.5 million people was flooded to the point where 143 people died. At first I thought this was crazy but after seeing how this country drives in the rain, it’s suddenly clear as to how they all perished.  One of the local news articles warned people not to drive into standing water, as you never know how deep it will be. Laughing out loud at the headline I asked the hotel manager about the article, His response was a rather interesting story. Apparently last year a large number of the flash flood related deaths were due to people driving through an underpass that had filled with water potentially up to 20 feet deep, and they drowned, as most people don’t know how to swim. This information was discovered after the water had evaporated or been drained out and they found cars with body’s in them. As outlandish a story this is IV been told it several times by multiple people. I’m looking for news articles to confirm it but the government censor’s every thing, and I’m wondering if I ever will. So upon arrival in Jeddah I meet the rain and with desert rain comes flash floods. I have never in my life seen rain like this. The night at the bases when I as grounded due to weather, it rained so hard  for 4 hours that I put a standard drinking glass out side and it filled to the point of overflowing in 15 minutes.  The buildings we stay in at the base are made out of metal and normally the slow smooth chant of rain on a metal roof is one of the most amazing and soothing sounds I can think of. This sound however was not soothing; it started abruptly and loud and only progressed in volume causing an ominous uneasy feeling, one causing a subtle fear to rise up inside you. Making you want to look out the door every so often to check for biblical type flooding.  Then it simply stopped raining and thunderstorms rolled in to the north and flooded the mountain cities with torrential downpour. The next morning the news said that 75% of the city’s roads were flooded and closed but that didn’t stop people form driving on them and our typical 20 minute ride from the base to the hotel took an hour and a half to navigate through the city’s least flooded roads.

            Now I’m on my six days off, and I’m finding it difficult to find folks who want to leave the oasis of our hotel. Our hotel is another interesting topic, Its not a bad hotel, in fact in 1975 when it was built it was a five star beauty built on the edge of bustling down town Jeddea. Well as time affects most cities, there down town becomes a slum and five star hotels from the seventy’s aren’t five stares in the current market. To put it another way I’ve been told not to walk to far from the hotel at night, but the hotel has enough amenity’s to not need to. Plus my room has a pretty good view from the ninth floor of the seaport with amazing sunsets each night.

            As I’m having trouble finding, folks to go adventuring with me I figured id do the same thing did in Riyadh, go out to the, street find a cab, point to something in the distance and see where I end up. Well this time I pointed at the ocean with hopes of ending up at the beach, well I soon found out that the hotel is in southern Jeddah and all the beaches are in northern Jeddah about an hour or more away. So I didn’t end up at a beach, instead I found my self at the most amazing fish market I’ve have ever seen. Walking through the gate there were posters in every language about not taking any pictures, why? I have no idea I didn’t think fish were a national secret, but non the less one of the things Saudis don’t mess around about are there photography laws, the will take your camera and if you get caught taking pictures of government buildings they don’t deport you but instead you get to spend time in a Saudi jail, something I have no desire to do so I set my camera to auto and took pictures with it slung on my shoulder. Although a rather stupid a clever idea it did get me some great photos. Now the fish market covers probably an area the size of a football field and had hundreds of booths, all colorfully decorated with pictures of the king, selling every kind of sea food from blue crabs to grouper and lobster. Each booth consisted of a table covered in fresh fish and between one and eight sales men all yelling at the top of their lungs trying to get people to buy from there booth, or haggling over prices. So I decided to watch a sale go down, bare in mind it’s all in Arabic. The sale starts with a gentleman simply looking at a fish, the sales men will come over and pick up the fish and hold it up in the air. Proclaiming that his fish is the best in the market, he then slams it down on the table and states a price; the purchasing gentleman will then brush off the fact that this is the best fish in the market, pointing out its obvious flaws. The salesman offended, then slaps the fish ignoring the flaws and increasing his price for all the good points of the fish. The purchasing gentleman waves his hand and starts to walk away, desperately the sales man lowers his price and declares the quality of his fish over every other fish in the sea, this back and fourth mating dance go’s on for about ten minutes longer with both men progressively yelling louder until a price is meet. As if the sales man had just one a marathon he begins proclaiming his sale to the others in his booth, money is exchanged and the fish is wrapped up. All for the process to start again granted this all took place in Arabic, so for all I know they could have been talking about playmate of the month.

            After the fish market I asked another cab driver to take me to a shopping mall, so I could buy a pair of running shoes, I doubt he knew what I wanted as I found my self in the oldest souqe in Jeddah, Al balad. 

            Now this is what I had imagined a true open-air market to be like. As a little kid watching Indiana Jones walk through a bizarre in bally or some other strange country has always initiated my desire to travel and just see. This market was incredibly full of life stores and shops and carts with every thing you can think of. Walking the catacombs’ of streets and alleyway’s and temporary isle one could see any thing form beautifully colorful and handmade dress’s to shoes and handcrafted jewelry. One could easily become terribly lost and destine to wander the market for what would seem like eternity. Follow your nose and one will find the incredibly well stoked confectionary’s, with immense cakes and candy’s, or incredible baklava, Coffee shops with fresh ground Turkish coffee mixes, which if you have never had it try it you’ll hate it then love it. Follow your nose to far though and you’ll notice the street turns from brown bricks to bloody bricks and the sweet scent of cakes turns to wet stale smell that even if you had never had this scent cross you nose in your life you knew what it would be. The butcher shops of AL balad,  they are a site to see for only the strongest of stomachs. Livestock cages with every thing from chickens to goats are out in front of shops filled with stainless steel tables, band saw’s, and men wearing blood stained aprons, standing in fresh pools of warm blood and piles of entrails from what ever animal they just slaughtered. All armed to the hilt with knives of every size and type, and smiling calling you to come into there shop and to pick out a lamp or chicken from a cage like pulling a lobster from a tank, to have it killed butchered and packaged. Suddenly I wasn’t hungry anymore, but the wonderful smell of “shawarma” coming from one of the many restaurants’ changed my mind. Either that, or it was just a good reason to get out of that part of the market. With a full belly of freshly grilled lamb, I was back on the search for shoes.

            Each and every moment here I’m am learning something new, weather it be about religion or about ways in which not to offend my hosts, in the souqes you learn very quickly that finding a specific thing in a timely manor is about as possible as learning quantum physics in a 20 min conversation. Each moment in the market is filled with intriguing sites and smells, shop owners calling to you from every direction showing you rare spices and incense, or fine jewelry and electronics.  And as soon as something peaks your interest they pull you into their shop to show you more only to discover that there shop has the same meticulous catacombs as the market itself. Pulling away from each shop only to be found by yet another intriguing site that I had only dreamed about before I had come here. I found myself just content with wondering the endless walkways with a silly grin on my face that either initiated a response from the beggars or shopkeepers to strike up a conversation with a goofy looking white guy, or for them simply to smile back and nod somehow understanding that I was there for the experience and loving every second of it.