By MOLOUK Y. BA-ISA, Arab News
ALKHOBAR: On Monday night in Alkhobar, the announcement came on Saudi TV for Eid Al-Fitr. Isha prayer finished and then the mad dash to Prince Faisal bin Fahd Street began.
Whereas much of the shopping associated with Eid has moved to modern malls, in the hours before the Eid prayer thousands of people still make the annual trek to “Pepsi Road,” to buy confectionery, from sugared almonds to halgum.
By 10 p.m., Prince Faisal bin Fahd Street westbound had turned into a parking lot. Three policemen were trying to get traffic moving but it was useless. With the vehicles at a standstill, the passenger side doors popped open and abaya-covered women erupted into the street, abandoning their drivers to the tender mercies of the traffic officers.
Of course, that just made the situation worse, because drivers were afraid to proceed with all the black-clad pedestrians maneuvering across the roadway in the dark. The police would clear the 100-meter stretch in front of the candy stores, the next group of vehicles would move in and the scene repeated. It went on for hours.
It used to be that most of the last-minute shopping in Ramadan took place on Prince Bandar Street. While confectioners in that area such as Saadeddin Sweets and Tripoli Sweets still attracted customers on Monday night, the frantic, excited atmosphere wasn't in evidence. In fact, that area had a slightly frightening overtone, as every corner was occupied with beggars.
All the beggar women were camped on the pavement next to small sacks of rice — Eid charity — with their male relatives keeping guard and defending their turf. Customers entering shops on Prince Bandar Street were harassed with requests for “baksheesh.”
There were a few beggars on Prince Faisal bin Fahd Street but they behaved discretely, aware that abusing the clientele of those upscale shops would not be tolerated.
Each sweet shop on Prince Faisal Street had a different strategy for coping with the Eid rush. Patchi and Chocoline had prepared trays of chocolates and customers were encouraged to select one of those rather than requesting an arrangement be made on the spot.
With the temperature outdoors hovering around 30 degrees, it was imperative to rapidly get the delicate chocolates from the air-conditioned shop into an air-conditioned car. All the ladies who had unceremoniously dumped their drivers were of course ordering them back with all haste, once their purchases were made.
Ronnie Toledo and Arvin Laurio were two family drivers from the Philippines waiting in the heat to be summoned.
“This is my fourth year in Saudi Arabia so I know what my duties are tonight,” said Toledo with a smile. “We will finish shopping early in the morning. Then I will take the family to the Eid prayer. I'll sleep for a few hours, then I'll need to take the children around visiting all their relatives. It's almost the same as Christmas back home.”
Laurio had a slightly less hectic job. “The family I work for sleeps all day and then goes out at night. So I only work from 7 p.m. till 3 a.m. during Eid. I'm lucky, too. They usually give me personal gifts like a cell phone or clothes for the holiday.”
By far, the shop on Prince Faisal Street with the biggest crush inside was Waleema. This confectionery is famous for its traditional Middle Eastern candies rather than chocolates. Pandemonium reigned as customers demanded service — all at the same time.
The only reasonable queue was at the checkout. Staff didn't even have time to unpack boxed candy into display cases. Customers scooped candy directly from the shipping boxes into plastic bags for weighing.
When asked why she came at the last minute, Lamees, a customer waiting for halgum made with apricot and pistachio replied, “This is Eid. This is what we do.”
One might think that it was only families on a quest for Eid sweets that were causing all the chaos on the street, but a little way from the candy shops was Shamsan Tailor. Inside the tailoring establishment, thobes were lined up on racks, four deep. Pressed and on hangers, they were ready for pickup.
“We expect that more than 300 new thobes will be picked up tonight,” said the manager, Abu Faisal. “Some have been ready for weeks. It's the nature of the people here to do everything at the last minute. They are our customers so we must accommodate them.”
And so the cash registers totaled up the sales and men rushed out to the street with candy bags in one hand and plastic wrapped thobes held high above their heads. Abu Faisal anticipated that they would be able to close the shop at 3 a.m. — if they were lucky.
Whereas much of the shopping associated with Eid has moved to modern malls, in the hours before the Eid prayer thousands of people still make the annual trek to “Pepsi Road,” to buy confectionery, from sugared almonds to halgum.
By 10 p.m., Prince Faisal bin Fahd Street westbound had turned into a parking lot. Three policemen were trying to get traffic moving but it was useless. With the vehicles at a standstill, the passenger side doors popped open and abaya-covered women erupted into the street, abandoning their drivers to the tender mercies of the traffic officers.
Of course, that just made the situation worse, because drivers were afraid to proceed with all the black-clad pedestrians maneuvering across the roadway in the dark. The police would clear the 100-meter stretch in front of the candy stores, the next group of vehicles would move in and the scene repeated. It went on for hours.
It used to be that most of the last-minute shopping in Ramadan took place on Prince Bandar Street. While confectioners in that area such as Saadeddin Sweets and Tripoli Sweets still attracted customers on Monday night, the frantic, excited atmosphere wasn't in evidence. In fact, that area had a slightly frightening overtone, as every corner was occupied with beggars.
All the beggar women were camped on the pavement next to small sacks of rice — Eid charity — with their male relatives keeping guard and defending their turf. Customers entering shops on Prince Bandar Street were harassed with requests for “baksheesh.”
There were a few beggars on Prince Faisal bin Fahd Street but they behaved discretely, aware that abusing the clientele of those upscale shops would not be tolerated.
Each sweet shop on Prince Faisal Street had a different strategy for coping with the Eid rush. Patchi and Chocoline had prepared trays of chocolates and customers were encouraged to select one of those rather than requesting an arrangement be made on the spot.
With the temperature outdoors hovering around 30 degrees, it was imperative to rapidly get the delicate chocolates from the air-conditioned shop into an air-conditioned car. All the ladies who had unceremoniously dumped their drivers were of course ordering them back with all haste, once their purchases were made.
Ronnie Toledo and Arvin Laurio were two family drivers from the Philippines waiting in the heat to be summoned.
“This is my fourth year in Saudi Arabia so I know what my duties are tonight,” said Toledo with a smile. “We will finish shopping early in the morning. Then I will take the family to the Eid prayer. I'll sleep for a few hours, then I'll need to take the children around visiting all their relatives. It's almost the same as Christmas back home.”
Laurio had a slightly less hectic job. “The family I work for sleeps all day and then goes out at night. So I only work from 7 p.m. till 3 a.m. during Eid. I'm lucky, too. They usually give me personal gifts like a cell phone or clothes for the holiday.”
By far, the shop on Prince Faisal Street with the biggest crush inside was Waleema. This confectionery is famous for its traditional Middle Eastern candies rather than chocolates. Pandemonium reigned as customers demanded service — all at the same time.
The only reasonable queue was at the checkout. Staff didn't even have time to unpack boxed candy into display cases. Customers scooped candy directly from the shipping boxes into plastic bags for weighing.
When asked why she came at the last minute, Lamees, a customer waiting for halgum made with apricot and pistachio replied, “This is Eid. This is what we do.”
One might think that it was only families on a quest for Eid sweets that were causing all the chaos on the street, but a little way from the candy shops was Shamsan Tailor. Inside the tailoring establishment, thobes were lined up on racks, four deep. Pressed and on hangers, they were ready for pickup.
“We expect that more than 300 new thobes will be picked up tonight,” said the manager, Abu Faisal. “Some have been ready for weeks. It's the nature of the people here to do everything at the last minute. They are our customers so we must accommodate them.”
And so the cash registers totaled up the sales and men rushed out to the street with candy bags in one hand and plastic wrapped thobes held high above their heads. Abu Faisal anticipated that they would be able to close the shop at 3 a.m. — if they were lucky.
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