Saudi Sambosa. Image: But First Chai
[from FB post: December 31, 2016]
The Sambosa Shop
Saudi Arabia is far more multi-cultural than anyone would expect. Remember that people from around the world have been coming here for religious pilgrimages for centuries and NOT returning home. Add to that, there are foreign workers in modern Saudi Arabia from all over the world. Hence, we have "sambosa shops".
A sambosa is an Indian "samosa" whose filling has been modified for the local diet. (if you don't know a samosa it's a triangular deep fried pastry with filling). In addition, you can buy "mantou" at a sambosa shop which are actually steamed chinese pork dumplings made with anything BUT pork. I have no idea how that item got on the menu. These are popular fast food snacks here (as fried food is everywhere) and the Saudis carry off trays of them into their cars to presumably munch on back home.
The owner, Nur, is an ethnic Uzbek from Afghanistan. He speaks Uzbek (related to Turkish), Dari (Afghan Persian), English, Arabic, and Urdu (to speak with his workers). The man is a bit of a "Sad Sack" who always looks like his mother died yesterday. He is kind and generous, but he just never seems happy. His business is always lurching from problem to problem, most of which are brought on by poor decisions on his part.
Two of the workers, Ahmed and Khalid, are from Mumbai and are religious fanatics. They are quite young, quite uneducated and quite scary in their world views. Not that they are impolite with me EVER, but they are kind of unnerving in their ideas. It amazes me that Saudis never thought ahead about exporting their brand of Islam, Wahabism. As it changes and morphs in countries outside of Saudi Arabia it becomes truly strange (as if it weren't already) Thus, many young Muslims DREAM to come work in the "holy land" and come to Saudi Arabia. Their beliefs and behavior even unnerve the Saudis themselves!
It is hard for me to go there and not get something for free. These guys are generous to the max. They are happy to see you every time you walk in the door. Really, you feel like you are in a small village anywhere in the world where everybody knows everybody and where you get lots of special treatment.
But all is not paradise. There are two other workers, Mainuddin and Shahin from Bangladesh. I know them from the local supermarket and they also work for Nur and do a lot of the behind the scenes preparation (making dough, stuffing sambosas, etc) They cannot work on site because it would be illegal, so they work in rented rooms that Nur changes frequently to avoid people noticing what is being done. You'd think it was a meth lab with all the secrecy, but it's just sambosas. Unfortunately, the places are squalid and I am certain many many MANY people have become sick from the food prepared there. Hence, I usually politely turn down my free food because I have seen where it has been made.
And finally, the lovely, lovely customers. As with any shop here in Saudi Arabia, it is staffed with foreigners. The Saudis come and just demand what they want and do not mind any sort of queue (unless there are other Saudis, then they are unfailingly polite with each other) I can literally be mid sentence with someone and a Saudi will come in and push me aside and bark out his order. And the foreign labor, being TERRIFIED of offending someone and losing their jobs, just blank you... and focus on the Saudi customer until he leaves. Then they carry on with you "as if nothing ever happened".
If you want to come to a place and feel you are a second class citizen, then you must experience a few months in Saudi Arabia. However, I possess a trump card. If I am miffed enough, I simply tell the Saudi "I am an American" and suddenly EVERYTHING IS DIFFERENT. "Oh, my brother is in Oklahoma. What do you think of Trump? Welcome, brother, welcome" The person who five seconds before looked upon me as virtually non-human now is desperately seeking my friendship and approval. It really messes with my head, so largely I let them assume I am Syrian or Egyptian and remain silent.
I usually stop by this place and say "hi" on my way to the coffee shop. I talk to these guys for five minutes tops. After three years, even in five minute intervals, you actually get to know a lot about a shop and its workers.
And that , my friends, is all about the Sambosa shop across the street from my apartment.
No need to update the above. Reading it again brings back a torrent of good and bad memories, which I think is the whole purpose of this blog for me. I WANT to remember all of this!