She’s never met the man she’s marrying: it’s love, the Saudi way

Nader al-Mutairi stiffened his shoulders, clenched his fists and said: “Let’s do our mission.” Then the young man stepped into the cool, empty lobby of a dental clinic, intent on getting the phone number of one of the young women working as a receptionist.

Asking a woman for her number can cause a young man anxiety anywhere. But in Saudi Arabia getting caught with an unrelated woman can mean arrest, a possible flogging and dishonour, the worst penalty of all in a society where preserving a family’s reputation depends on faithful adherence to a strict code of separation between the sexes.

Above all, Nader feared that his cousin Enad al-Mutairi would find out he was breaking the rules. Nader is engaged to Enad’s 17-year-old sister, Sarah. “Please don’t talk to Enad about this,” he said. “He will kill me.”

The concept of honour!

The sun was already low as Nader entered the clinic. Almost instantly, his resolve faded. His shoulders drooped, his hands unclenched and his voice began to quiver. “I am not lucky today; let’s leave,” he said.

I saw a documentary where a muslim homosexual bloke said; "It is easier to be a gay here than straight. The (morality) police never bothers two men in a car, even if they are unrelated. But I would not dare to give an unrelated girl a ride."

[...]

One of the most important Arab traditions is honour,” Enad said. “If my sister goes in the street and someone assaults her, she won’t be able to protect herself. The nature of men is that men are more rational. Women are not rational. With one or two or three words, a man can get what he wants from a woman. If I call someone and a girl answers, I have to apologise. It is a violation of the house.”

The "honour" concept again. Sigh!

[...]

Suddenly the young men stopped focusing on their food. A woman had entered the restaurant alone. She was completely draped in a black abaya, her face covered by a black veil, her hair and ears covered by a black cloth pulled tight. “Look at the Batman,” Nader said derisively, snickering.

Enad pretended to toss his burning cigarette at the woman, who by now had been seated at a table. The glaring young men unnerved her. “She is alone, without a man,” Enad said, explaining why they were disgusted, not just with her but with her male relatives, too, wherever they were. “Thank God our women are at home,” Enad said.

Nader and Enad pray five times a day, often stopping whatever they are doing to traipse off with their cousins to the nearest mosque. Prayer is mandatory in the kingdom and the religious police force all shops to shut during prayer times. But it is also casual, as routine for Nader and Enad as taking a coffee break.

To Nader and Enad, prayer is essential. In Enad’s view, jihad is too, not the more moderate approach which emphasises doing good deeds, but the idea of picking up a weapon and fighting in places like Iraq and Afghanistan.

“Jihad is not a crime, it is a duty,” Enad said in casual conversation. “If someone comes into your house, will you stand there or will you fight them?” He was leaning forward, his short, thick hands resting on his knees: “Arab or Muslim lands are like one house.”

Well, it really speaks for it self. Read the rest of the text over here.