Sim in Saudi: Washed & Furnished

Day 1 at work.  New clothes are clean clothes.

Experienced as I am at moving countries and into the accompanying accommodation, I was on my best behaviour and bearing gifts when I first met the Queen.

Let's face it. Anyone who is responsible for where you live, whether your sewage or air-conditioner will ever be fixed, and what furniture you have to live with on a day to day basis is a seriously important person, and at issue was a seriously important piece of equipment.

A washing machine.  There wasn't one.

Now, I don't know how you are when you move into accommodation and have to appear at work the next day, but it seems to me that somewhere to sleep, the ability to cook and store food, and the means to arrive at work professionally clothed is right up there.

Mostly someone has thought ahead.  You may not like the white fluffy bread, cheese and packs of biscuits they have left for you, but the thought is there.  There are appliances, soap and loo paper to get you through the first few days, or a shopping expedition to ensure you can make it to induction washed and ironed.

Day 1 Shopping: Yet another iron.  Haven't actually

used  it yet but the thought is there.

This time there was nothing.  Not a plate, not a cup, not a bottle of complimentary water.

The broken fridge could be fixed, but how on earth to live without a washing machine?

No one has a washing machine in that apartment building, I was told.

Signing my contract which guaranteed 'furnished accommodation,' I felt cross.  The Queen agreed. She would make a call.

It is at this juncture that I have my lucky break.  The guy responsible for the building and its washing machine-less state is rude to her.  To an Arab woman!  I hear him raise his voice, watch her face set and think, you silly bastard.   I am so going to get that machine.  

This is what a manual washing machine looks like.
Right. I didn't know how to use one either.

There are a few more battles.  With the guy, then his boss, then yet another boss but the Queen prevails. She has rung the Chief Operating Officer.


Not only do I get a brand new washing machine, but I get to choose a gorgeous new apartment which is double the size.

Washing machines:  all '31 pieces.'

Better still, everyone has got a new machine.  'I have 31 pieces,' the building manager tells me proudly.

On Saturday he sits outside my building waiting for a reasonable hour to ring the door bell.  He decides on 11.30am.  The guy is definitely growing on me.  Especially when he tells me that in two days I will be in!

The Queen's preferred head gear.
It shouldn't work but it does.

Back in the Queen's office we are jubilant, leaping around her office and high-fiving: she in her daggy, black sun hat (Australian English, people, suck it up), floral blouse and skirt and me in yet another new blouse.

'We did this' she tells me.  'You did this,' I say.  'That is why they call me the Queen' she answers.

May this monarch reign supreme!

And may your accommodation be fully functional too.

Simone, the Automatically Washed.