Black Book of Arabia (4 page)

Most of Lulu's teachers visited the salon, and that proved to be her winning card. She would embarrass them into helping her by refusing to accept payment after serving them. Hadeya, too, was trying her utmost to fit into the society that she was now a part of, sending couscous to the faculty every Friday. She aimed to please, and please she did. Eventually, people forgot about the old boss; Hadeya's cheap rates and prime location on one of Riyadh's busiest streets won over a large clientele. It took years, but Hadeya eventually reached a level of acceptance within the society that once ignored and disregarded her. Teachers, doctors, high school girls, college students, matchmakers, and housewives of all sorts sat in the salon,
sipping Moroccan tea and enjoying the company of the funny Moroccan employees. The clients enjoyed a variety of sweets and shared stories about how to get better skin, hair, and nails and about the beautiful Queen Selma of Morocco, and they swapped cooking recipes.

Lulu's father did not want to send her to Europe or America for further education. She had never been abroad before, it was too expensive, and she had not been accepted into any scholarship programs. He opted to send her to Kuwait to finish her higher studies, as she was adamant about not graduating from a school in Saudi Arabia. Kuwait was cheaper than London or California for the tight-fisted father, and Lulu was his precious first-born from his beloved Hadeya. He wanted to know that she was a short distance away, as opposed to a half-day or full-day trip to a cold country. Lulu was disappointed. All of her friends were traveling abroad for higher education, but she was refused entry to all the foreign universities because of her low grades and poor English proficiency.

Lulu set out for Kuwait brokenhearted, thinking what a difficult task it would be to find the super-rich and super-fabulous in a small state, as opposed to glamorous America where at an Ivy League university she would be handed the opportunity on a silver platter. “The company of giants makes you a giant,” her mother used to tell her when she would complain about the children in school. Nevertheless, being away was better than being watched and controlled by her parents, by the conservative Saudi police, and by a strict society and traditions that limited her access to
liberal attire and actions. Plus, the travel was interesting and mysteriously inviting.

During her first week in Kuwait at the university dorms, Lulu developed a homesickness that left her crying every night, thinking how much better her schoolmates must be doing under the California sun. She remembered one of her mother's customers from the salon, who had mentioned that she knew a royal from Kuwait, so Lulu asked for an introduction. Perhaps she would make life interesting and replace the royal circle she would sorely miss. Her friend made a few phone calls, and an introduction was made. The royal, Sheikha, called Lulu and welcomed her to Kuwait. It would become “her home away from home,” she promised.

Sheikha was an attractive, confident, and successful woman. Born into the royal family of Kuwait, she was blessed with bewitching brown eyes; a fine, straight, slightly aquiline nose; full, shapely lips; and a tall hourglass figure. Lulu enjoyed the affiliation with Sheikha and thought that in due time, even the ladies-in-waiting of such successful people marry well-to-do suitors. With brains to match her beauty, Sheikha had put off marriage until she completed her studies: a Bachelor's degree in Information Technology and a Master of Business Administration in the UK that she planned to use for the launch of her own luxury products' retail website. When she finally chose her suitor, hearts were broken and hopes were dashed.

Sheikha enjoyed a whirlwind romance with the young, rich, and handsome prince of her choice. Her
close friends enjoyed accompanying her on yacht trips, lavish parties at the trendiest islands, and private jet trips to watch horses race at the most famous racetracks in Europe and America. Sheikha documented the trips in photos that she posted to her group of girlfriends on her BlackBerry Messenger and WhatsApp. Lulu saved all of these images along with the ones she herself took of her friend's lifestyle.

Sheikha's life was cream and honey, as it were; Lulu's life in Saudi Arabia had been vinegar and salt. Lulu had come to Kuwait wanting to study at the American University of Kuwait but did not make the TOEFL score so was not allowed entry. Furthermore, she had come with a group of Saudi friends who deemed her unworthy of their company to begin with, since she was of Bedouin origin and had a mother whose history was tainted. They feared both black magic and her reputation rubbing off on their as-yet single lives.

Sheikha's kind words warmed Lulu's heart, and she was excited when Sheikha invited her to a gathering with a mix of girls from the Gulf, all seniors, who welcomed her to the country and university. Unfortunately, Lulu was too shy to admit to her new friends who were fluent in English that she failed the TOEFL prerequisite and would study at an Arabic university. As the evening went on, however, her new friends discovered that she was not keeping up when they spoke in English, and she broke down. She was scared and nervous, with no mother, no nanny, no father, and no salon services or food provided on speed
dial. She was mortified at first, but then let the tears run like rain. Sobbing and seeking pity was a splendid way to introduce yourself to the kind, strong, and brave. She won their hearts as everyone felt sorry for her because she would not stop complaining about how she felt out of place amongst the “uncultured” and “poor” students in her dorm. There were no glam names, no glitzy fashion, no shiny, top-of-the-range cars. The worst thing in this foreign experience was that there were no maids to bring her clothing to her, pay attention to her beauty needs, or handle her waking times, meals, and errands. It was almost cruel, and the culture shock shattered her very being. It was enough for her to attempt suicide, she said, as she was facing social suicide after years of climbing up the social ladder. The girls embraced her, and Sheikha even invited her to spend the weekend in her house. Lulu donned the puss-in-boots façade and sold them the story that she was spoiled for choice in Saudi Arabia and now was in Kuwait, left to fend for herself among the poor and unworthy girls that she deemed beneath her and, in her elite opinion, disgusting.

“My mother and father both went to the same university you aren't liking. It's not for poor or uncultured people,” said Sheikha with a smile, trying to cheer her up.

“But I don't know anyone there,” Lulu said, her voice breaking. “Everyone looks like they don't know anything about anything. I am a complete stranger there. I can't sleep on their single bed; it is only a meter wide. I swear I keep thinking I'm going to fall off on the tile floor!”

Lulu arrived at Sheikha's with her luggage and never left. Literally. She resided in the lap of luxury. Servants waited on her instead of her having to wait for the shared bathroom and showers at the dorms. She would leave the bathroom a mess—towels tossed on the ground, tissues everywhere but in the bin, and the toothpaste tube left without the cover and oozing. Were it not for the servants regularly cleaning, the next person who entered would have found it rude. Her clothes were always pressed, either ironed or steamed. Buttons sewn on when they fell off or came loose. Accessories fixed when and where necessary. Food served around the clock. Travel expenses were paid and visas issued, in addition to regular expensive gifts from different generous members of the family. This was the life she had dreamed of; save there was no husband, just a kind girl who hosted her. Her dream had come true—she lived in a palace she deemed herself worthy of and enjoyed the luxury she had hoped to attain. The servants served her, as opposed to her picking at the clogged hair at the salon sink after her mother had shut down and the staff had left. She was treated as a member of the family. Money was handed to her on every occasion, and delicious food was served at the ring of a bell. Why would anyone want to leave heaven?

When Lulu's tight-fisted father heard that his daughter was living with a royal, he stopped sending her anything except for pocket money, a mere 300 Kuwaiti dinars a month. Lulu received almost tenfold that amount living with Sheikha. The contrast was almost ridiculously cruel in
her eyes. She would speak at times about how much money her father had, but how difficult and greedy he was with his hard-earned money. Yet she loved him and hated her mother. She hated that he was tight with money, but she knew he loved her and that after he passed away, she would inherit his money. Her mother, on the other hand, would always be regarded as a husband-snatcher and a common hairdresser at a mid-level salon—even after her death. Lulu longed to be a princess and forget her roots. With Sheikha, she was living her dream.

Lulu's younger sister, Mona, would always tell her that she was learning how to be glamorous from Sheikha. It was true. Lulu regarded Sheikha as her idol and role model, and she copied her in everything she did. Imitation is a form of flattery, they say, and Lulu flattered Sheikha, although she certainly liked to think of herself as already a lady of royal stature. She liked to think of Sheikha as someone worthy of being her mother—not the man-snatcher who was stigmatized or the worthless maid who had abandoned her. Sheikha was a perfect fit, someone she was happy and proud to be affiliated with. In the Arab world they say that after forty days of living with someone, you become one of them. Lulu's stay in Sheikha's household lasted for two years. After failing the first course in the university, Lulu simply stayed with Sheikha—going out with her whenever she did or staying home with her and her family.

Eventually, Lulu overstayed her welcome. She overheard Sheikha's family discussing when she was expected
to leave, as taking care of someone else's daughter was a responsibility that was not to be regarded as trivial in the Middle East. Sheikha tried to encourage Lulu to pursue her education, even if at first it was at an institute for English-language beginners. She could work toward a diploma at a university later.

The harder Sheikha tried to convince Lulu to study and obtain some form of degree, the harder Lulu looked for a place to stay after Sheikha got married. Her sweet stay in heaven would end forever unless she found another such friend or, even better, a husband.

Lulu knew a certain matchmaker from the upper echelons of Saudi society that she had met at the salon. She had given the matchmaker countless free services at the salon in hopes of one day being granted priority in finding a suitable bachelor. Ensconced in the palace, Lulu dared to call the woman. She was delighted to find that the matchmaker had many eligible bachelors lined up for marriage. The only catch was that they wanted an equally glamorous bride of the same level, wealth, and family, deserving of their status. It simply was not fair to her. How could an average-looking girl from a middle-class family marry a billionaire or a prince? She wanted nothing less. It was easy for the rich and privileged, but it was one battle after another for the uninitiated to articulate their worth in front of these men. Was everything going to be a struggle for her?

Lulu continued to contemplate ways to enter the privileged circle. Even if it were a short engagement or marriage, it would offer her a way to raise the bar for
future suitors as she would finally be a princess, or at the very least given a hefty sum of money and a house in her name that would secure her independence from her parents. Some of these profitable unions were arranged without the couple ever meeting in person beforehand and others with families present as chaperones. Sometimes the couple divorced soon after they wed, but the bride still kept the dowry, the status, and the title. Lulu regarded it as a no-lose situation.

Lulu spoke with several matchmakers who continued to insist that the rich only marry within their circle. Lulu proceeded unfazed, even when she was told that the aristocratic bachelors would appreciate only an educated, well-connected family and cultured bride. Good looks and a charming nature were a wonderful and welcome plus.

Unlike Sheikha, Lulu was neither tall nor slim; however, living in the palace had given her an inflated ego that led her to dress in overly tight clothes. The matchmakers repeatedly instructed her to lose weight, fix her style, and come back because a young woman like her would never work for the group of available bachelors. Lulu did not have time for this, so she simply took the clothes of Sheikha, because matching up clothes and styling them from a fashionable style vault was easier than picking and choosing on her own from a sea of clothes that in the end would look drab and everything but chic. Even then, the matchmakers would brush her off, until she had a better idea. She would simply say, “It's not for me, I am merely trying to find a suitor for my lady,
Lady Lulu
.”

It was decided: She would use the face of Sheikha in place of her own until she snared herself someone worthy who would make her the queen of her castle. This sparked the flame of a plan to catapult Lulu into their realm—if not in a cat suit to meet her Batman, then at the very least as Lady Lulu to meet her Prince Charming. Sheikha would be her fairy godmother and her beneficiary all at once; only Sheikha need never know.

The plan was so easy to devise that it was almost a sin. Much too simple. All the tools were available for usage and exploitation. She began by using the photos she had saved of Sheikha—Sheikha with her horses and foals, Sheikha sketching, reading, being hugged by her father, with her pet dolphin, at her house in Monaco; Sheikha and her jewelry, her paintings, her luxury cars—the Maybach, the Rolls Royce, the Bentley—and, finally, Sheikha's exotic white tiger and his voracious appetite.

Lulu met with the matchmaker under the guise of representing a certain royal, or high-class lady of wealth, power, and beauty. No one could have handled the lady's public relations better than Lulu, and no one was better qualified for finding a match in that situation. She played the role of the lady's personal assistant perfectly, insisting that the lady's name remain a secret until the suitor spoke to her and that it would be for his ears alone. Lulu would select what “Lady Lulu” would approve of and would determine the best way forward for her. She would handle the introductions via telephone. BlackBerry chats would be the perfect medium for the inevitable exchange of images. She
would take her time to properly welcome the suitor into her web. The wedding date would be set for three months from the first conversation, and it was to be absolutely non-negotiable.