I view life as a trifecta: ages 0-30 the ‘First Thirty’ / ages 30-60 the ‘Second Thirty / and ages 60-90+ the ‘Third Thirty’.  This true story happened in my Second Thirty (1981). For years, I intended to write this special story, but alas finally, in my Third Thirty, I’m capturing it on paper for posterity.

In 1980, the U.S. had only a small contingent of American military personnel assigned to a remote training mission in the Asir Region of southwestern Arabia; subsequently, we shared residential space and amenities with a larger group of American contractors who worked for Northrop-Grumman. We all lived within a walled compound with guards securing the front gate. I soon discovered that within these hallowed walls, daily life was not much different from living in the States, except for no television, telephones, and women were not allowed to drive. 

We were settling into our new home on the compound when we received an invitation to an event at the home of Northrop’s Chief Executive. We had been on the compound just long enough to hear folks twitter about the CEO and his wife hosting get-acquainted parties for newcomers; thus, we naturally assumed this was our initiation. So off we go to the event, dressed in western party attire…fat, dumb, and happy.

Frank was delayed at the entrance with introductions and small talk; I, on the other hand, was drawn to join activities on the back patio, where immediately, a teacher at the American School on the Northrop Compound (for whom I had been asked to substitute teach) approached me to discuss her need for assistance. I was totally engaged in conversation with her, when this tall, dark, handsome Saudi Arabian gentleman joined us, dressed in traditional attire. He graciously waited for a break in the conversation, then introduced himself, “Hello, I’m Bandar,” he said, extending his hand in a friendly manner. I was totally taken aback! There had been no mention of Saudi nationals attending this event!

He was tall, dark, and handsome…very exotic, quite interesting - and interested…

I’d heard the term “The Ugly American” therefore, I consciously determined I would not be guilty of earning such a negative descriptor when posted abroad. Our first international PCS assignment was to Saudi Arabia. 

Prior to entering the Kingdom, I’d been thoroughly coached on proper etiquette and manner of dress when in the presence of Saudis. My first thought was, “OMG! I have on a slinky, clingy red dress with shoulders and arms exposed! The last thing I wanted was to be perceived as the quintessential Ugly American with no respect for their cultural and religious norms! But there I was, with nowhere to hide!            

Bandar began to ask me questions, “How long have you been in the Kingdom?  Do you like Khamis Mushayt? 

“About two weeks,” I replied. He responded, “What do you think of my Country…?” 

I was unaware my fellow teacher had quietly slipped away and was nowhere in sight! 

I realized I was on my own to answer his questions, quite unprepared for this encounter with a host national. After what seemed an eternity, Frank showed up. “Uh…honey, this is uh (searching to recollect his name – Bandar.) “Bandar, this is my husband, Frank.” Frank heartily greeted him and together, we continued to answer Bandar’s questions regarding our first impressions of the Kingdom. 

Our Northrup host announced it was time to clear the patio to prepare for dinner. Bandar graciously excused himself and joined several of his Saudi friends in attendance. During dinner, another guest approached me and excitedly exclaimed, “I can’t believe you’ve been talking to him for so long!” “To whom,” I inquired? “Prince Bandar! Didn’t you know the party is for him? It’s in his honor?” Clearly, I did not know this key bit of information. 

After dinner, they prepared the patio for dancing, and Bandar returned once again to engage us in conversation. His English was impeccable. He was pleasant and likable. He politely asked Frank’s permission to dance with me. Permission granted, so he escorted me to the dance floor. The music was bold and rhythmic. I don’t know what came over me, but I recall asking him, “Have you ever seen The Bump?” Without missing a beat, he responded, “One bump or two?” Before I knew it, this Saudi Arabian Prince was bumping all over my body, like John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever! I could feel the heat rising. Other couples cleared the dance floor and began watching - as did Frank

When the music stopped, this sophisticated Prince smoothly walked me to where our executive host for the evening had strategically engaged my husband in conversation. 

Frank looked directly into my eyes and with focused determination said, “It’s time for us to go home.” “Oh no!” I pushed back. “We just arrived. I’m having a great time!” The CEO interjected, “Yes, stay! There is more time for dancing!” But I could read the tea leaves, so home we went.  

Why share this story after so long a time? 

Perhaps to relive the buzz of it all…a girl from small town Texas who never in her wildest dreams imagined dancing with a Saudi Prince on the other side of the world. But it’s more than that. I’ve reflected on and evaluated my reaction to this memorable event. 

My Third Thirty renders me painfully aware of the degree of total naivety regarding the level of sophistication possessed by other global citizens. I underestimated this gentleman’s worldly exposure, his comfortable command of himself and his environment. Today I would never ask such a stupid question of a Saudi Arabian Prince. As a guest in his country, I was yet unprepared to experience this larger world. 

Did I inadvertently become The Ugly American I wanted to avoid, or was I simply an example of ultimate naivety? Upon reflection, my guess is that Bandar found my unreserved naivety a bit amusing; perhaps even enchanting, but at day’s end, Frank did not.