Just a year after the terrorist attacks of 9/11, I was headed to Saudi Arabia on business. I was no stranger to the Kingdom, having visited it five times in the 1990s. But this sixth journey felt spooky. The United States had identified 15 of the 19 hijackers as being Saudi citizens. An American colleague who was accompanying me said that he had toured the southern province from where the 15 hailed. He said he had seen flags flying in their home towns celebrating their martyrdom. On this visit, I was going to visit Riyadh, the capital, Dammam in the eastern province, Jeddah in the western province and Abha in the southern province which abuts Yemen. On prior trips, I had visited all the cities except Abha. I spent the first day in Riyadh. When I withdrew some cash from the ATM, it flashed a message: Say No to Terrorism. The local paper carried a story about the annual camel race and reported that the camel that came in second was named, Say No to Terrorism. Change was taking place in the Kingdom. Attitudes were being shaped quite aggressively. The next day, we headed on an early morning flight to Abha. Our client greeted us at the airport. He said since you have come so early, I will show you a national park. That was a pleasant surprise. The second surprise was Abha’s 7,000 ft. elevation. He drove us to an even higher elevation in the national park. The 360 degree views were superb. A large body of water glistened in the distance. Perhaps it was the Red Sea. And then, out of nowhere, came the third surprise: a pack of baboons. He parked the car. The animals gathered in triangular formation on the right side of the car. The biggest animal positioned himself at the apex of the triangle, ready to pounce on us if the need arose. At some point they put their guard down. Two of the animals started to mate. Our client, with an impish smile, said they are making babies. Then he drove us to the head office. I met the CEO. We exchanged cards. I said this is my first visit to Abha and I am impressed with the scenery. It’s so different from the rest of the country. He smiled and said we also produce the largest number of Ph. D.’s in the Kingdom. I said: “Electrical Engineering?” He said no. “Mechanical engineer?” “No, Islamic Studies!” I was back in the Kingdom the following year. The Iraq War had concluded a few months earlier but the US forces were showing no signs of leaving. One of my cousins lived in Riyadh. He would often come by in the evenings to pick me up from the hotel. I was waiting by the main road for him to pull up when I noticed that the sun was striking the glass exterior of the Faisaliah Hotel tower in such a way as to cast a reflection into the water that was flowing over a water fall at the base of the tower. I took out my camera and took a couple of pictures. On this visit, I was going to visit Riyadh, the capital, Dammam in the eastern province, Jeddah in the western province and Abha in the southern province which abuts Yemen. On prior trips, I had visited all the cities except Abha Then I saw my cousin pulling up to the curb and got into the car. We drove away but within a minute a police car pulled him over. He got out and got into a debate with the cop. I knew just enough Arabic to know that the cop was quizzing him about “tasweer.” With some trepidation, I got out of the car and told him I had taken the picture. He said you are not allowed to take pictures of the hotel. I showed him my room key. I said there is no sign that says you can’t take a picture. He smiled and told me to just buy a postcard the next time. When we arrived at my cousin’s house, a policeman was talking to his neighbour whose car had been involved in a crash. Somehow I ended up talking to him. When he found out that I was visiting from the US, he asked: “When is the cowboy (President Bush) going to pull out of Iraq?” I said only God knows. He smiled. Two years passed and I was back in the Kingdom. At the Frankfurt airport I ran into a man who recognized me from my Karachi University days. He was also headed to Riyadh where he worked with the Saudi National Guard. We had dinner one evening and I got his download about living in the Kingdom. Among other trivia, he told me that temporary marriages (“miswar”) were sanctioned in the Kingdom. I was aghast. One evening I had tea with the Pakistani defense attaché. I asked him if he knew where Osama bin Laden was hiding. He professed ignorance. I said would you kill him if you find him. He said if Osama dies, they would toss his body to the Afghan side of the border. Why? Oh, he is very popular in Pakistan. One afternoon I took a taxi from my client’s office to the hotel. The driver was a Pathan in traditional attire. I asked him if Osama bin Laden had escaped from Pakistan by shaving off his beard and putting on a burqa. He said the Shaikh would never do anything like that. Then he got so upset that be began pulling the vehicle to the side of the road. I said it was just a rumor I had picked up in the US. No offense was intended. He calmed down and the journey ended uneventfully. When I returned to the San Francisco airport, I was taken aside for secondary screening. The agent began searching my bags. In my brief case, he came across the business cards I had from the defense attaché and the man who worked with the National Guard. He asked: “Why do have so much contact with the military.” I said they are my friends. He made a face. Then he pulled out my card and asked, what is your Ph. D. in? I thought of saying Islamic Studies but bit my tongue. I said economics. Then a business card came out of a woman who worked at the electric utility in San Francisco. He said you work with them. I said I told you I work with utilities around the globe. Having a boring job saved the day for me. But it made me wonder why I was not being given hazard pay for going to the Kingdom. The writer can be reached at ahmadfaruqui@gmail.com. He Tweets at @AhmadFaruqui