Jean P Sasson - [Princess 02] (8 page)

Then my troubled daughter asked me the most difficult question of my life. "Mother, how can I ever love a man, knowing all that I know of their nature?"

I had no ready answer, yet it was with profound happiness that I understood that Kareem and I had another chance with our daughter.

It was time to go home to Riyadh.

We did not leave before Kareem offered Maha's British physician a position in Riyadh as our family's personal doctor.

Much to our amazement, the physician refused. "Thank you," he said. "I am honored. Fortunately, or unfortunately, whichever is the case, my aesthetic sensibilities are too keen for Saudi Arabia."

Undaunted, Kareem insisted upon rewarding the doctor with a large sum of cash. He even went so far as to try to put the money into the man's hand.

Maha's physician firmly waved aside the offer, uttering words that would have been a keen insult had they not been spoken softly. "My dear man, please, do not. The shallowness of wealth and power holds no appeal for me. "

While staring in awe at one of the least prepossessing figures I have ever beheld, I suddenly had the answer to Maha's earlier, unanswerable question! Later, I told Maha that she would one day meet a man deserving of her faithful love, for such men existed. She and I had met one in London.

Once we were back in Riyadh, the source of Maha's knowledge of black magic was revealed. It was as I had thought. Noorah was the culprit.

Maha told her father, in my presence, that it was her grandmother who had introduced her to the dark world of the occult. Confronted with Abdullah's clothing wrapped around a charm, Maha denied wanting to cast a spell on her brother. Hoping that she had learned a great lesson, we did not press the issue.

I desired nothing more than to confront my mother-in-law, spit in her face, and yank out her hair.

Kareem, wisely recognizing the dangers of pent up anger, refused to let me accompany him when he went to confront her about her misdeeds. Nevertheless, I did coax my unenthusiastic sister Sara into paying a visit to our mutual mother-in-law's palace at the time of Kareem's visit.

Sara arrived at Noorah's villa shortly after my husband. She waited in the garden for Kareem to leave. Sara said that she overheard Kareem's shouts and Noorah's pleas for mercy. Kareem forbade his mother to visit his children without supervision.

Long after my husband had left, Sara said, Noorah's moans of despair could be heard in the garden.

"Kareem, most beloved, you came from my womb! Come back to your mother, who cannot live without your precious love."

Sara accused me of being as wicked as Noorah, for I radiated much happiness when, she told me of my treacherous mother-in-law well deserved wretchedness.

God, Great and Glorious is He, said: "And proclaim among men the pilgrimage, they will come to you
on foot and on every lean camel, coming from every deep ravine.

-Al Haj, 22:27

THERE IS NO method to calculate the number of pious Muslims who have perished while making the grueling journey across the deserts of Saudi Arabia since the time of the Prophet Mohammed and the first pilgrimage, but the total is estimated to be in the thousands. While I am pleased to report that it is no longer necessary for devout Muslims to do battle with bedouin raiding parties or even to travel through Saudi Arabia on foot or riding lean camels in order to fulfil their fervent desire to perform one of the basic tenets of Islam, the annual pilgrimage to the holy city of Makkah, known as Mecca to Westerners, still remains a chaotic affair. Each year, hundreds of thousands of pilgrims converge on the cities, airports, and highways of Saudi Arabia for the rite of pilgrimage during the time of Haj. (Haj begins in Dhu Al Qida, the eleventh month of the hejira calendar, and ends during Dhu Al Hijah, the twelfth month of the hejira calendar.)

I performed the traditional pilgrimage many times in my youth, as a laughing child in my mother's arms, and later as a rebellious girl seeking communication with my God, whom I prayed would bestow peace of mind on an unhappy child.

To my great dismay, since Kareem and I wed, I had not worshiped in Makkah during the official time of Haj.

While Kareem and I, along with our children, have made the Umrah, or the lesser pilgrimage, which can be made at any time of year, never had we joined the multitudes in the massive annual celebration of Haj, a time when Muslims remind themselves of the lessons of sacrifice, obedience, mercy, and faith, models of conduct that are required in the Islamic faith.

Many times over the years, I emphasized to my husband that our children should experience the moving occasion of the pilgrimage during the designated time of Haj. Much to my chagrin, Kareem was forever adamant that our family flee the pandemonium of Saudi Arabia during the annual pilgrimage, which brings the largest and most concentrated gathering of human beings on earth into our country.

Each time I requested of Kareem the justification for his non-performance of Haj, my husband would provide me with a multitude of lame explanations that were heavy with contradiction.

Bewildered at his attitude and determined to get to the heart of the matter, I once purposely entangled Kareem in the discrepancy of his excuses, trapping him on the issue. Kareem was groping for a path out of his dilemma when I plainly told my husband, a man who believes in the God of Mohammed, that it seemed to me he abhorred the ritual that brings such joy to all Muslims. There was no other explanation for his bizarre behavior.

I crossed my arms across my chest and waited for his response to this insulting charge, which demanded refutation.

Kareem's face swelled with revulsion at the accusation so vile to a Muslim! Shocked at such a scandalous idea, he swore to me that he did not abhor the pilgrimage!

In the manner all men respond when they are in the wrong, Kareem then yelled out, "Sultana, you are ugly to my eyes," and turned his back on me as if to leave the room, but I ran around his side and without stretched arms blocked the door with my body, demanding more specifics.

I screamed out that I was displeased with what I had heard, and that I would wait for ever for a compelling explanation of his annual flight from the Haj. Sensing that Kareem was in a position of weakness, I became reckless and added a small lie, saving, "Others have noticed your strange distaste for Haj, and people are beginning to talk."

When Kareem saw that I would not let him pass without using physical force, he stared down at me and hesitated for a long moment. I could see that he was examining and weighing the wisdom of his ~ply. Making a decision, he pulled me by the arm and forced me down on the side of the bed by pushing my shoulders with his hands. He paced for a short time to the balcony doors and back, and then his defenses fell.

Kareem confessed in a rush that as a young man he had once suffered a realistic and terrifying nightmare that he was crushed to death in a crowd of Haj is (people of the Muslim faith who attend Haj).

I made a sound in my throat. Many baffling aspects of my husband's behavior were now clear in my mind. Since the time I first met him, Kareem had seen crowds where there were none, interpreting the smallest groups of people as a mass of humanity. I shook my head at the perplexing intimacies of my husband's inner life, which I had never known. So! Kareem was frightened of the masses of pilgrims!

Being a strong believer in the powerful message of dreams, I turned my attention to Kareem's words; my mood was grim as I listened to his vivid description of the imaginary yet frightening experience he had endured while sleeping.

My husband's face became pale as he graphically described the feeling of being asphyxiated under the trampling feet of frenzied worshipers. He told me that since the time of his dream, at age twenty-three, he had purposely avoided the congested conditions endured by the faithful in making the annual pilgrimage to Makkah.

Kareem felt so intensely that his nightmare would be fulfilled if he attended Haj, that I had little heart to argue with his visionary forebodings.

Once again, everything was as before, and our family continued to depart the kingdom during the time of Haj.

When the very real and ghastly tragedy of the 1990 Haj occurred, as over fifteen hundred pilgrims were crushed to death in a mountain tunnel in Makkah, Kareem took to his bed in Paris and trembled for an entire day, declaring that the cataclysmic disaster was yet another extraordinary omen from God that he should never again worship at the Holy Mosque!

After the fateful accident of 1990, when hundreds of worshipers died, Kareem's extreme reaction to his dream began to annoy me, and I told him that his fears were inherently unsound. Nothing I could say or do at the time comforted my husband, even when I pointed out the obvious, that his dream had been realized in the death of others. In my opinion, the exact catastrophe was unlikely to occur again. 

I saw that my observation failed to quiet Kareem's fierce apprehension when he replied that, evidently, he would be crushed as a singular tragedy if he failed to heed his dream or the recent mishap, which to his mind was nothing less than a direct warning from God.

Since it is true that a number of Hajis are trampled or crushed to death during each Haj season, I could not reason further with Kareem. I wanted to dismiss his obsession, to ignore his terrors, but I could not.

Sadly, I pushed the possibility of ever again making the happy journey of Haj far into the back of my mind, but not from my heart.

After our triumphant return from London with a loving Maha in our arms, I felt an irresistible desire to embrace the ritual of glorifying God in unison with other Muslims. The time of Haj was upon us, and I gently approached the topic with my husband once again, suggesting that I take our children to Makkah. Since women in our country rarely travel without the protection of a male escort, I wondered aloud about the possibility of accompanying my sister Sara and her family to Makkah.

Much to my surprise, Kareem responded favorably to my ardent wish to undertake a journey to the city of Mohammed. My mouth fell open when he said he would consider taking the journey himself.

Kareem acknowledged that he continued to fear personal harm, but that he too shared my need to give special thanks to God for the return of our precious Maha.

We were discussing the upcoming trip with members of Kareem's family when we received a warning from his brother-in-law Mo hammed, who was married to Kareem's youngest sister, Hanan.

Mohammed said that over two million pilgrims were expected to unite in our holiest city of Makkah, and of that total, a hundred fifty thousand worrisome worshipers were expected from Iran, the Shiite country that makes an annual call to revoke King Fahd's exclusive custodian ship over Islam's holiest places.

In 1987 the inflamed Shiites had gone so far as to lead a violent protest during the traditional holy event, and in the process of breaching Saudi laws, they had desecrated the Holy Mosque, causing the deaths of 402 pilgrims. Two years later, in 1989, Tehran had instigated two deadly bombings, killing one person and wounding sixteen others.

In Mohammed's view, Haj was becoming a dangerous religious ceremony for peaceful Muslims.

Radical Muslims were on the move the world over, and they favored the holiest of Islamic sanctuaries to make known their political grievances.

Mohammed, a prince of high authority in Public Security, a Saudi public service organization that strives to ensure the security of Saudis and Muslims visiting our country, was privy to knowledge that most Saudis do not have. Blind to my emotion, and absorbed only in our personal safety, Mohammed suggested that Kareem and I wait until the masses of pilgrims left the kingdom. Then, we could take our children and perform the sacred rites.

Kareem sat pale-faced and said little, and I knew that my husband was not in the slightest concerned over Iranian danger but was considering the dreaded effects of four million tramping feet.

Stubborn, and determined to fulfil my personal desires, as is my way, I challenged Mohammed's warning, saying that in my opinion, as a result of the Iranians' past violence, those pilgrims traveling from Iran would be so carefully screened and observed by Saudi Security that they would be of little danger to Haj worshipers. 

Mohammed, with a stern and uneasy look on his face, said, "No. The Iranians can never be trusted.

Do not let yourself forget, Sultana, that we are dealing with Shiite fanatics who dream of overthrowing our Al Sa'ud-led Sunni government!"

Seeing that my reasoning was not going to achieve the reassuring response I was seeking, I used a female tactic, mischievously asking Mohammed and my husband if they failed to remember that according to Islamic teachings, to die while in Makkah ensures immediate ascension to heaven?

My husband and brother-in-law failed to see any humor in the situation, and my religious argument made little impact with Kareem, but obviously he too felt the wonderful release of anxiety that came with Maha's miraculous recovery even more than I had imagined.

Kareem took a deep breath, gave a weak smile, and said, "Sultana, I will face a thousand dangers if it will give you peace of mind. Together, we will take our children and go on the pilgrimage."

Mohammed hid a disappointed face with a smile, and I gave my husband an unexpected kiss on the cheek and began to suck on his earlobes, promising him that he would never regret his decision.

Mohammed looked scandalized at my affectionate display and made some small excuse to leave the room. Kareem's younger sister Hanan, who had been married for some years to Mohammed, gave us a knowing smile and said that we should ignore her husband's prudish facade, that Mohammed was the most loving, affectionate, and attentive of men behind closed doors.

I laughed aloud, wondering about their secret life of sweet sex, for Mohammed had always seemed strict and standoffish, and in the past I had pitied my sister-in-law.

I looked at my husband and saw that his face had reddened at the idea of his sister's marriage bed. I thought to myself that our Saudi men are too uptight and unbearably puritanical when it comes to married passion, even their own.