Alvarez and I arrive in the downtown. Alvarez is driving the CUTV, a big Army SUV, as fast as he can while trying to follow the swerving British LandRover. There are no traffic rules here but the roads are no where near as hazardous as Korea. The Koreans drive where ever and when ever they want; at least the Saudis stay on the roads.

After watching a Saudi driver pull up on a sidewalk I reconsider; the fact is there are simply fewer cars, people and buildings to run into in this Saudi city.

We pass store after store with Arabic signs. There are men on the street in their long white robes; black cords hold their white headscarves securely on their heads.

Some of the Saudi men are holding hands while walking down the street. We were briefed that this common practice is a sign of friendship, not homosexuality; but still surprising to witness.

We finally lose the Brits in the heart of the downtown. Alvarez finds a place to park. "Wonder how we will know if this is a no parking zone?"

A Saudi policeman drives by. "We might be okay. Should we split up and start looking for these items?" I quickly copy my list on a second sheet of note paper and hand it to Alvarez.

"Seriously? You are going to walk into a store by yourself?" Alvarez frowns at me. "There will be mutawwa. You are in men's clothing with no head scarf."

The mutawwa or religious police are known for hassling and even arresting women who attempt to act independently or dress inappropriately in public places.

"We've got a lot to do. It is really inefficient to have both of us doing one job." I climb out of the CUTV, grab my M16 and smile big. "I will try to be diplomatic."

"Don't get arrested or shot. Meet me back here in one hour." Alvarez heads across the street to one of the plain buildings on the corner. He calls back from the middle of the street. "And don't beat anyone up."

I head to the opposite corner. My focus is on simply finding something that resembles a retail outlet.

Two men walk towards me. I hope my limited Arabic will help to get directions. "Al-salaam alaykum (hello). Titkallam ingleezi? (Do you speak English?)

They look down and walk quickly away. I wonder if I said something offensive.

I keep walking. Two more blocks.

The men in front of me suddenly cross the street. But they look back and stare openly at me. Probably not accustomed to seeing soldiers carrying weapons in their streets. It would bother me too.

Finally I see a small hardware store. Inside two men are talking to each other excitedly and one points at me. He looks alarmed. As I walk towards the door, they rush to change a sign, pull down the door blinds and lock the door.

I pause for a moment contemplating my first experience of complete denial.
This is going to be much harder than I thought.

I had no idea.

The second store was just two blocks away. I walked in without causing a stir. There are 3 other soldiers doing business with shop workers. The workers in western clothing appear to be Phillipino. This was also in our training. Most of the sales and front line work in Saudi Arabia is handled by Phillipinos. But managerial work is often the purvue of Sudanese.

After multiple attempts to gain assistance from the English speaking staff, I look around to see who is calling the shots. A tall black man in white robes glares at me and moves quickly to my side saying quietly,"It is not good that you are here. It is a problem."

I stepped outside to regroup. Should I fight for my rights? Go back inside and yell at them? I feel a minute of confusion and anger. We are here to defend the Saudis. I am part of the army that is here to defend these people. What are my rights in Saudi Arabia?

As I start to head back to the CUTV, one of the soldiers walks out of the store and calls out to me. "Hey LT."

I turn. A fellow Lieutenant. From the 82nd Airborne.

"This is a hard country for women to do anything. Do you need some help?"

"I hate to admit it but without raising a fuss I'm trying to figure out how to get my job done."

"This is a tough situation. They are afraid the religious police will shut them down. What do you need?"

I hand over my list. "Know where to get any of these items?"

He laughs as he looks at the list. "You guys just arrive?"

"Yes. Why?"

"You won't need most of this. Hold on a sec." He pulls a sheet of paper out
of a briefcase sized green canvas bag. He jots down a dozen items. "Start with these. Go to Al Faris Construction. Two blocks south and four blocks east of here. Ask for Nasir and tell him Lt. Ryan sent you."

"Thanks. Is there anyway I can help you?"

"No problem. Nah. Unless by some chance you have TP?"

"Toliet paper?" The smile on my face must have said it all. "Come find me on the port. I'm living on a cot under the first overhang by the Commodores hut. Just ask for Lt Maxton with the 300th. The guard will find me."

"I know it well. That is where our unit was housed until we were sent into the desert. Can I swing by tonight around call for prayer?"

"What time is that?"

He laughs. "You will soon know when all 5 call for prayer times are ... because everything just shuts down."

I wave the paper. "Nasir at Al Faris Construction. Thanks!"

"See you tonight.'

When I get back to the CUTV, Alvarez is waiting. He has two small items.
"Not very productive trip?"

"Terrible. But..." I showed him the list and talked about the recommendations from the LT of the 82nd.

"Do you want to try this afternoon or should we wait till tomorrow?"

Suddenly I can hear singing from what sounds like a loud speaker

Allahu akbar, Allahu akbar
Ashhadu an la Ilah ila Allah
Ashadu an Mohammad rasul Allah
Haya ala as-salat
Haya ala as-salat

I look for the source. Alvarez looks at me. "What is that?"

"Call to prayer." Alvarez looks blankly at me.

You know, There is no god but Allah and Mohammed is the Prophet of Allah ... the Islamic call to prayer.

On cue, all the Saudis pour out of their stores onto the streets. They all begin to walk the same direction taking no notice of Alvarez and I standing on the street gawking at the mass exodus.

The call to prayer continues and then suddenly the streets are deserted.

"How long does this last?"

"I would guess the shops will not reopen for an hour. And they do this five times each day."

"How do they get anything done here?"

"I don't know. Let's go back to the port. We need to be at Al Faris as soon as morning prayer is over."