Princess Sultana's Circle

equipment,
including bathtubs, toilets, and basins, waited to be packed. Once
these items were loaded, the designer trunks containing our
wardrobes would be packed last for easy access.
    Five gas-powered generators
had already been loaded into a separate truck. They would power the
two solidly packed large freezers, and the three refrigerators
waiting to be loaded. Two gas stoves and gas cylinders stood beside
them.
    Our Filipino gardeners were
in charge of packing fresh food, including fruits and vegetables
imported from Egypt, Jordan, and Italy.
    Over one thousand bottles
of Evian mineral water waited to be lifted into a separate truck.
Two large tanker trucks stood ready for our departure, filled with
water for cooking and bathing.
    In the background, I could
hear the bleats and squawks of sheep and chickens, recently
delivered from the animal bazaar. After an hour of standing in the
hot sun on the truck bed, these poor creatures were becoming
impatient and noisy. There were some camels, too, some for riding,
while some unlucky others would be prepared as a desert
feast.
    I made a mental note to
keep the sensitive Amani as far away as possible from the area
where these beasts would be slaughtered. She would be devastated if
she witnessed the killing of any animal.
    The previous week, Kareem
had arranged for twenty-five new air-conditioned four-wheel drive
vehicles to be delivered to our palace to transport our large
party.
    Loud and angry words rang
out across the garden. One of our three Egyptian cooks was shouting
obscenities at one of the kitchen apprentices.
    Hawkers, the men who train
and tend to Kareem’s prized falcons, were walking around the garden
with their hooded charges perched on their upraised hands,
protected by a leather glove, called Dasma Al Tair, because the
falcon’s hooked claws are capable of ripping flesh to the bone.
With their powerful eyes, long and pointed wings, strong hooked
bills, and long curved talons, falcons will easily bring down
desert rabbits, wild pigeons and the hubara, a large migratory bird
also known as a bustard. The falcons were outfitted with a leather
burqa, or hood. Specially made hawk stands, called wakar al tair,
were placed around the garden. The Arabian Peninsula is one of the
last places on earth where men hunt with falcons. The winter season
was not yet quite over, so our husbands planned to hunt while in
the desert.
    In the midst of all this
activity, Maha and I looked at each other in mutual understanding
before we burst out laughing. The combination of all these colorful
sights and clamorous noises made our garden appear as exotic as a
bustling bazaar.
    Even Amani began to smile,
even though she was caught up in giving special instructions to a
dispirited Filipino maid regarding the feeding and grooming of her
numerous pets during her absence. This maid had just learned that
she was one of the ten unlucky employees designated by Kareem to
remain behind at our palace in Riyadh.
    Although I never tire of
watching such sights, I had yet to take my morning bath, so I
walked back inside the palace. Considering the uncomfortable heat
of the sun outside, I told one of the housemaids to pack an extra
supply of sun cream.
    After taking a bath and
softening my skin with a thick lotion, I dressed in an
ankle-length, light blue cotton dress. We Saudis dress in the
desert as we do in the city, the men covered up from the intense
sun by thobes, and the women by long dresses.
    I then braided my long hair
before laying out my veil, head scarf and abaaya. When we left our
private grounds, I would be obliged to cover myself in these items
of clothing.
    I fingered the silky
garments with a sense of dislike and dread. On trips abroad, I
always gratefully discard the despised black coverings, but in
Saudi Arabia, they were a hated part of my everyday life. After
looking at the world minus a black screen, and breathing fresh air
without a fabric filter, the veil always feels like the weight of
the world falling around my body, although it is made of thin,
gauzy cloth. I sighed deeply. I was a grown woman, but I was still
confused by the contradictions in my life. I pushed aside these
unpleasant thoughts before returning to the garden.
    Those siblings and their
families who would accompany us on this trip had already arrived,
and when our drivers started up the engines, our large party began
to crowd around the vehicles.
    My sisters, Sara, Nura,
Tahani, Dunia, and Haifa, rode