If a Gulf citizen is to look around him, there is every likelihood that he will be exposed to a plethora of different nationalities working and living alongside him. It is no different in Saudi Arabia, where the general perception of an expatriate rarely goes deeper than the external facade of that individual. Whether he or she is staying alone, has a family or an offspring or whether he or she deals with complex family issues, whether he or she is adjusting well to an alien culture ... it does not command the immediate attention of most citizens.
Decades of prosperity have created insatiable demands to keep pace with the rest of the world. To satisfy the manpower demands, millions of non-Arab expatriates, and Arabs as well, have moved their families to the region. Improved standards of living, uninterrupted water and electricity supply, safety and security and good health-care facilities have motivated them to stay on. Also, many Muslim Asian families choose to live in Saudi Arabia for its proximity to the holy places and for an environment where Islam is visible in practice.
Working in the Gulf Cooperation Council allowed Asian workers to secure comparatively decent jobs and salaries. Many were able to build nice bungalows or purchase apartments in their home countries. They were able to help raise the standard of living of their immediate families. Many a Gulf-bound breadwinner was expected to carry out the task of educating and marrying off their siblings, a considerable financial burden if one had to meet them while staying in their home countries.
There is also a price tag attached to such a life. In the early 1980s, for example, many expatriate communities did not have access to schools. The ones that came up were substandard. Housewives doubled up as teachers and administrators. Social interaction for the children was limited. They were virtually cut off from their extended families.
The culture, the country and its people back then were very alien to the expatriates. Their children did not find complete acceptance within the local community since they were absolute strangers. Sadly, in their respective home countries too, these children lost touch with their relatives and friends because of the habits and tastes they had inculcated by staying abroad. They belonged neither here nor there. Some ended up spending a good part of their lives in hostels or boarding schools in distant lands, away from the warmth and comfort of a family atmosphere.
After high school, they were not accepted at public universities in some of the host countries despite scoring well in the exams.
In spite of all these problems, these families held on. They hoped that someday the laws would change and they would get the nationality — something taken for granted in most of the developed nations of the world. The complicated business laws and high risks ensured that expatriate made no investment in the host countries. With little foresight, billions of dollars could have been prevented from draining out of the oil-rich states, as the wise and the lucky ones among the Asian communities adopted a ‘look-West’ policy.
As each contractual year neared its end, the heads of the families experienced extreme anxiety, fearing that their work-permits may not be renewed or they would be browbeaten into accepting less-desirable terms and conditions. This anxiety trickled down to the other members of the family, mainly the children. Each year, hordes of families had to leave because their services were no longer required. As the end-of-service benefits began to be reduced, many families were left in the lurch. The breadwinners were too young to retire and too old to be rehired somewhere else.
For Arab families, assimilation is perhaps easier because of a common language and cultural values. But for the Asians, it is difficult settling down or rehabilitating themselves in a foreign country. The men had become too weak to struggle in the fast-paced business environment back home. The women too had become far removed from family and friends.
Men who sent their families back to the home country quickly found out that lack of guidance and a relatively easy access to money halted or constricted educational achievements of their wards. Many parents have to pay hefty bribes to secure seats in medical or engineering colleges for their children in their home countries.
For those born and brought up in Saudi Arabia, or any other country in the region for that matter, who can speak the local language; who fight over which football club will win; who know how to don the dishdasha (headgear) or flit about in a fancy abaya; whose mothers have mastered the art of cooking a perfect dish of kabsa (a local rice-and-meat dish) ... for those children, the pain of leaving the only country they call home can be very distressing. Most of these children were high achievers in academics, but unfortunately fell prey to an antiquated system that did not have the foresight to use their presence effectively.
With Saudi Arabia set to announce a Green Card programme in the near future, there is every hope that the plight of such people will come to an end, allowing the expatriate community, upon whose shoulders the country has been built, to breathe and move about more freely, securing their future with fewer restrictions to be wary of.
Tariq A. Al Maeena is a Saudi socio-political commentator. He lives in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia. You can follow him on Twitter at www.twitter.com/@talmaeena
