Tales of the Bedouin – Part XXVI: The Remarkable Life of Bdah Al Hajri– Part 5, Finale

© Mark Lowey 2022. All rights reserved.

In this series, Mark Lowey, known as “Abu Jack” (Father of Jack) to his Saudi friends, tells the story of Bdah Al Hajri, whom he first encountered in the desert as an infant in 1979. Reunited in 2013, Abu Jack and Bdah have become close friends.

The story of the Bdah’s life concludes in this segment through candid conversations with Bdah and other members of his family.

In Part 1 we learn about Bdah’s grandparents and the family history up to the 1973 wedding of Bdah’s parents, Faleh and Masturah. Part 2 tells the story of the early years of their marriage, their growing family and Bdah’s birth and early years. Part 3 describes Bdah’s primary school and boyhood memories. In Part 4, Bdah graduates from Salasil school, attends Aramco’s Industrial Training Center in Abqaiq, suffers the loss of his father, and marries.

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Reconnection, Courtesy of Quriyan

My wife, Ann, and I moved to Abqaiq in 2010 to begin a six-year stint with Saudi Aramco. It was my second time living in Saudi, and, fortunately, I had preserved and brought my photographs of the Fazran Bedouins taken in 1978 and 1979. Over the years, I continued to have an ongoing interest in what might have become of these people. Now I was back in Abqaiq, quite near where I had met them. What were the chances of finding them again, I wondered.

One day in October 2013 at the shopping mall in the Abqaiq Aramco community, I first met Quriyan Al Hajri, who I was to learn was a legendary Saudi Aramco explorer and road surveyor. My photos, both current and decades old, were part of an exhibition organized by the Abqaiq Art, Craft and Hobby Group, a self-directed group sponsored by the Abqaiq Recreation Services Unit. Al Hajri pointed to Faleh in one of the old photos and said, “I know that man. That’s my cousin!” I was awestruck -- finally, a connection. From Quriyan I learned that Faleh and Abdulhadi, the adult men in the photo, had passed away. I also learned that the small boy dressed in white, Suhaim, and his brother, Saleh, also in the photo, had grown up and raised their own families in Ain Dar.

Desert Safari

After meeting Quriyan I felt a combined sense of relief and apprehension. At last, I knew the names of the people in my photo. I had the cell phone number of the youngest boy, now a 40-year-old man. What would it be like to meet them after so many years? We spoke on the phone and his English was very good. We promised to get together soon.

Meanwhile, Aramco’s Community Services Department was considering ways to introduce Saudi culture to their foreign expat employees. An exciting “desert safari” plan was proposed. By coincidence, it would involve a visit to Quriyan’s farm, where employees and their families could experience traditional exhibits and activities. But they needed a dry run, a rehearsal of sorts, to test the viability and safety of the proposal, as well as to sort out the steps necessary to choreograph such an event.

So, one Saturday morning in December 2013 members of Abqaiq’s Southern Area/Central Region Community Services Department (SA/CR CSD), led by their manager, Omar Ghazi, gathered in front of the Aramco administration offices and caravanned to Quriyan’s farm in eight vehicles. A senior member of Saudi Aramco management from Dhahran was also invited and in attendance. My wife, Ann, worked as a casual hire for Abqaiq Community Services, so I was able to tag along. It was to be an exciting day.

The previous week, in anticipation of visiting Quriyan, I went to a photo lab in Abqaiq Medina and had 5x7 enlargements made of the old Bedouin photos. Armed with these prints, I kept a low profile at the farm event.

The Aramco management and their staff were given a grand tour of traditional cultural activities including a welcome with ceremonial coffee, tea and dates, falconry demonstration, music, Khabsa luncheon, storytelling, a desert dune excursion, and camel rides. Towards the end of the busy day, we found ourselves in the open desert, five kilometers east of the farm, at a makeshift tent encampment where traditional flatbread was being cooked in an earthen oven and arts and Bedouin crafts were on display.

Folkloric Dance

Suddenly, one of Quriyan’s cousins opened the doors of his Toyota Land Cruiser and out poured high-volume, up-tempo music by the popular Saudi singer, Mohammed Abdo. Souvenir camel sticks were passed around and the dancing ensued. The Saudis hosts demonstrated, and everyone was invited to join in.

Photos Shared

When we returned to the farm, we were served tea and coffee. Quriyan and some of his relatives were seated at a round table with the Aramco managers. This was my chance to break out the photos. As the photos were passed around the table, there was astonishment as places and faces from the past were seen again.

Quriyan and elders of his family see photos of their ancestors.

Calls Go Out

Unbeknownst to me, Saleh Alsy’ari and Bdah Al Hajri, the two young boys in my photos, had been contacted and invited to the farm. I was told that Saleh Alsy’ari, the older boy in the group photo, would be arriving shortly. I watched as he slowly drove up the long driveway. Soon we were face-to-face, looking each other in the eye. We shook hands and exchanged pleasantries in Arabic. When I handed Saleh, now a grown man, the photo of him as a child with his father, he smiled broadly and then unexpectedly burst into tears, clearly touched by memories of his family.

Bdah Arrives

Next, it was time to meet Bdah, the baby in the photo with his father, Faleh. Thoughtfully, and to allow some privacy for our reunion, I was asked to wait in Quriyan’s small office. In dramatic fashion, the door opened and Bdah’s two sons and a young cousin entered, in single file. Finally, Bdah walked in, and we embraced. His English was excellent. We introduced ourselves and I was immediately taken by his sincerity and engaging personality.

Bdah, flanked by two sons and a nephew, holds the old photos.

The party had ended, and my ride was ready to return to Abqaiq. Before saying goodbye, I posed with my newly re-found acquaintances to commemorate this special day. To our mutual delight, a lasting friendship had been forged that day.

Bdah, Saleh, Mark, and cousin Moh’d Nasser Al Hajri.

Visits To Bdah’s Family

It wasn’t long before my wife and I were invited to gatherings with both families to meet brothers, sisters, cousins, and their numerous children. We were accepted as honorary family members. The first of many visits to Bdah and his family was at a quasi-remote desert tent encampment near Junayah where he and his family spent winter weekends.

It was a warm, clear Friday in January 2015 when I met Bdah near the Fardaniyah petrol station and then followed him for a short drive into the desert. He had set up a large striped tent made of wool, mainly for the men and boys to gather. Other family tents of white canvas were arranged nearby.

One-by one, and starting with the eldest, Bdah’s 88-year-old uncle, Abdullah, I was introduced to every male family member and guest in attendance. We shook hands and repeated Arabic greetings to each other, “Salaam Aleikum.” “Waleikum As Salaam.” “Kef Halak?” “Alhamdullilah.” ^[2] Naturally, tea, coffee and dates were served.

Later we enjoyed a communal lamb Khabsa meal on a platter, and I passed around a bespoke photo book featuring their family and their old desert encampment that I had prepared for Bdah and his mother. The book was a big hit. Bdah drew a crowd as he turned the pages and described the photos.

Bdah shows his family the photo book.

Mother Masturah

Bdah and I then walked towards the family tents trailed by the younger boys. He asked them to fetch their grandmother. Out came Masturah, mother of Bdah, Bdah’s sister, Moodi, and a cousin, Sarah Bint Munir. This was the first time a Saudi friend invited me to meet women of his family. I appreciated Bdah’s openness and trust in me. I was deeply moved to meet Masturah in person. After all, I was a guest in her tent in 1979.

Masturah was in tears when she told me, through Bdah, how grateful she was that I had preserved the photos of her late husband, Faleh. As Bdah translated, she said in Arabic, “I am Masturah, wife of Faleh. Thank you very much, Mark, for honoring us and coming here today and to see these valuable pictures. We cannot measure their value and we appreciate, too much, you and your family. Mark, you, your wife, son, and daughter are members of Faleh’s family. You are most welcome in Saudi Arabia all the time. God protect you and your family.”

Masturah and her family greet Abu Jack.

Getting To Know Bdah’s Family

Over the years, we were invited to the homes of Masturah and Bdah several times. Masturah took a special liking to my wife and gave her beautiful gifts. She shared with us memories of her life in the desert and described fascinating details that have been recorded in this series.

Gatherings with the Al Hajri family.

Masturah was curious about how Ann and I had met and married. During one conversation in 2019, Bdah translated her questions:

Masturah, “You stayed in Saudi only two years back in 1978-79? You were not here continuously for the past 40 years?”

Abu Jack, “Yes, only two years. But then I came back. I had to go home to find Ann. In 1981, two years after I left you, I met my wife in San Francisco.”

Masturah, “During those two years, you never considered taking a Saudi woman for your wife?”

Abu Jack, “No, I never thought about that.”

Another Hajri family member in the room, “You can tell us now!” (Laughter)

Abu Jack, “I was looking for an American woman. And I found a Japanese American; even better.”

Masturah, “Masha ‘Allah, you are lucky.”

Abu Jack, “I agree, very lucky.”

Bdah, “He loves her a lot.”

Abu Jack, “We are married 35 years.”

Masturah, “You were married in a church?”

Abu Jack, “No, not in a church – we were married outdoors at a beautiful hotel. All the seating was outside with a view of San Francisco Bay.”

Faleh’s Sword

In February 2016 the owners of Desert Designs ^[3], Farid and Kim Bukhari, invited Quriyan and me to make presentations about Bedouin culture in their upstairs art gallery and gathering space. Desert Designs is the unique, family-run interior design studio, home décor gift shop and art gallery in Al Khobar, Saudi Arabia, which is dedicated to Saudi culture and Islamic design.

That evening, an interested and diverse audience gathered. I projected some of my old photos on a large screen and explained my connection to the two Bedouin families and Quriyan’s key role in our reuniting. Then Quriyan spoke about his Bedouin origins and told the fascinating story of his birthplace in the desert at Jebel Bateel near As Sarrar. ^[4]

At the end of a brief question-and-answer period, Bdah Al Hajri, who attended with four of his children, came to the podium and introduced himself. His eldest son, Faleh, held the sword of the family patriarch, the late Faleh Al Hajri, with whom I had become acquainted in 1978. With his two small daughters and a few nephews by his side, Bdah beckoned me to the front and asked me to accept the sword as a gift. “This is the sword of my father,” Bdah said. “My mother and my family want you to have it as a show of gratitude for your loyalty to Faleh. May God keep you.”

Lifetime Friends

Ann and I are extremely fortunate to know Bdah, his mother, wives, children, and his extended family. Experiencing mother Masturah’s wisdom and charm, we can see why Bdah is such a fine person.

During our many conversations, I thanked Bdah for sharing his family history with me and asked if he had time to continue our dialogue and could I, eventually, write and publish his life story? The response I received from Bdah exemplifies his character:

“Salam Abu Jack,

First, we owe you the credit after God Almighty, because you made us very happy and gave us very beautiful moments and memories that will never be forgotten, whether for us or our children and grandchildren as well, and also all members of the family.

I still live the echo of the beautiful memories of your story with my father, and I always receive questions and inquiries from inside the Kingdom, Qatar, and Kuwait regarding these photos.

We hope that our communication will continue and without prior appointments.

- Abu Faleh”

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Visits with Bdah - Part 1 Visits with Bdah - Part 2 Visits with Bdah - Part 3

King Abdul Aziz Camel Festival

Al Hasa – Jebel Qara and Jawatha Mosque

References:

[1] 1978: A lucky photograph – in one take. The group photo with me seated between Abdulhadi Alsy’ari and his two sons was taken with an Olympus OM-2 set on a mini-tripod. I balanced it on a large oil barrel, manually focused, started the timer, and quickly ran behind them to sit and face the camera. As the shutter opened, Abdulhadi turned towards me, wondering what’s going on. On the right, Faleh Al Hajri pointed to the camera the Arab way (with his thumb) and might have said to his friend, Abdulhadi, “Look at the camera!”

No time for a second take. The two young boys in the photo are brothers, Suhaim and Saleh, who I met again in 2013.

Soon after the photos were taken, I left Saudi Arabia, not to return for another 30 years. Since 1978, I treasured the photos taken during those visits. I shared them with friends and family and often wondered what became of those people.

In 2010, I joined Saudi Aramco and I found myself back in Abqaiq, exactly where my engineering career had begun. A few years later I was reunited with the Bedouins of Fazran.

[2] Arabic pleasantries.

• “Salaam Aleikum.” Peace be upon you.
• “Waleikum As Salaam.” And unto you, peace.
• “Kef Halak?” How are you?
• “Alhamdullilah.” Praise be to God (I am fine).
• “Masha ‘Allah.” Arabic phrase used to express a feeling of awe or beauty regarding an event or person that was just mentioned. Literally, “What God has willed has happened.”

[3] Desert Designs. Article published April 2021.

https://aramcoexpats.com/articles/desert-designs-celebrating-30-years-of-distinctive-saudi-design/

[4] Quriyan’s birth.

In 1957, Quriyan Mohammed Al Hajri was born deep in the desert, in the shadow of Jebel Bateel near As Sarrar, Eastern Province, Saudi Arabia. The stump of a tree and an old oil can remain as the only markers of the spot where his mother gave birth, alone under the stars, a respectable distance from their family tent.

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