Stepping up in Saudi Arabia

I met Khadija in Zumba class. As an amateur dancer myself, I could tell that she had more rhythm in her steps than the rest of us, as do all good dancers who make the steps you put every creative cell in your body to realize look like a walk in the park. We got to chatting and within five minutes of speaking to this friendly Saudi girl, I knew I wanted to know more about her. It could be because I was born in Saudi Arabia and drawn to people and stories from the land which despite all the news stories and books, remains a bit of an enigma. Khadija was returning home the next week and we decided we’d stay in touch.

Keeping in touch was slightly different than I had imagined. Turns out calling the way you and I take for granted isn’t permitted in Saudi Arabia - Whatsapp, Facetime, Skype and Viber – we tried it all! After getting past the logistics of setting up a catch up, it was time to get to know this chica a little better who by the way is an ultra-focused medicine intern when she’s not travelling the world following her passion for dance. 

Khadija told me what dance really means to her - “Dancing is a way of expressing feeling. It’s my first language. Dancing is sharing”. Reading all the stories one does about Saudi Arabia, I wondered if as a female she faced much resistance in her choice to travel the world solo. Khadija frequently joins dance festivals and dance summer camps. Fortunately, her parents are liberal and while her mother was easier to persuade, her father took a little bit of convincing. “Their main concern was me travelling alone”, she shared. I was happy to hear this, coming from a protective family myself where the biggest concern was boys, especially as Islam instills the notion in us from birth that we must dress modestly as apparently, men have no self-control and will pounce at any given opportunity.

As smooth as Khadija’s journey to the dancing world may sound, I think it's an incredible opportunity for anyone to pursue their dream regardless. I asked Khadija if she thought she could change perceptions of dance in Saudi Arabia. If a 24-year-old girl managed to do in Saudi what I wasn’t allowed to do in Holland at her age, something tells me her drive and powers of persuasion could impact an otherwise conservative culture. Her own dance classes are attended by women from the teens to the forties. She told me, “Saudis aren’t aware of the dance culture. It’s not just about moving your body, dancing is an art and a community. Women come to class and let go of their insecurities about body image. I believe everyone has a dancer in them”. There’s hope still Naveen!

While Khadija is an inspiration to many of her students, I wanted to know who inspired her in the dancing world. She said “there are hundreds of them” before giving me a great insight into the various dancers she’s met on her travels, most of whom she has already had the opportunity to meet at Fair Play Dance Camp in Krakow, Poland. She mentioned Kevin Paradox, a Dutch dancer who taught her that “dance is about connecting with other people and feeling the flow and groove”. Then there’s Shaun Evaristo based in LA. “When he dances he’s meditating at the same time. He’s simply human”, she said. Another one she met was French dancer Laure Courtellemont who Khadija describes as “real and raw and embraces her femininity”. Then there’s Spider Salah, another French-Moroccan dancer who she finds inspiring being a Muslim dancer herself. She’s drawn to his humble personality. Finally, she met Keoni and Mari, a couple from San Diego. “When they dance they’re one body and one soul”, she told me. Listening to Khadija speak about these dance gurus, I could hear her passion for dance ran deep.

I mentioned earlier that Khadija studied medicine. She’s already in her sixth year at Al Faisal University in Riyadh. Currently, she’s on placement working in emergency departments at King Saud Medical City as part of the sixteen shifts she needs to complete. She’s also teaching at Glow Fit fitness centre in the evenings. Dance helped her realize that she can help people in many different ways. Perhaps she’ll find a way to combine medicine and dancing one day.

Learning about dance is always interesting to me, but I needed to know more about life for women in Saudi, stereotypes surrounding it and what freedom means to her. Khadija told me that the biggest misconception about Saudi women is that they don’t have the freedom to do the things they want to do. “Women today are starting their own businesses. Another misconception is that women are mistreated and oppressed”, she shared. She’s right. I have to admit that I’ve always had that impression myself. Khadija said something so beautiful here that I had to go to a yoga retreat to get some clarity myself - “Freedom is a state of mind. If you’re not free on the inside, all the outer freedom couldn’t help. If you’re not comfortable with who you are and afraid to express emotions, thoughts and ideas – you’re not a free person”.

Growing up as the only female among her siblings, she felt no difference in their upbringing. In fact, her parents’ love marriage was nontraditional and a mixed race one at that. They met at a hospital where her father was a professor teaching and her mother was presenting her research. Her mother is her biggest supporter, affording her opportunities to be as independent as she is. She added that she has never felt stereotyped, though she often surprises people when she tells them where she’s from. “They don’t expect to see you there”, she said speaking of Amsterdam’s popular dance club, Paradiso. The social scene is a little different in Saudi, where similar to Pakistan, gatherings at friends and family homes is more common.

I couldn’t end the conversation without getting some travel tips from Khadija. Here’s what you absolutely have to do - Watch the sunrise and sunset at Edge of the World, eat traditional Saudi food like Kabsa, Jareesh and Markook and make sure to visit the Al Mamlaka and Al Faisaliah towers!