Graduation

Graduation was incredible.  It came on the heels of an amazing finals week that was dominated more by fishing and basketball than exams.  I had time to enjoy all the people, all the experiences, and all the sights that can easily be forgotten amidst the frustrating noise of daily life at Kaust.  No maintenance, no ridiculous shopping carts, just fun.  I was surprised by just how much I would miss about Kaust.

The ceremony itself was a surprise, too.  Given Kaust's unmatched history of ineptitude I fully expected the whole thing to be a disaster.  But it wasn't.  It was actually really pleasant in its own way.  It was simple, and short, and it managed to create an atmosphere that I really liked.  It made me feel like we were alone there on the shore of the sea, going about our business just like everyone else in the world.  And I felt happy to be there on that day, carrying out this particular bit of business.  It was quaint and meaningful.

Well done, Kaust.

Leading up to the ceremony everyone was gathered together in their silly wizard-like robes.  There was conversation and laughter, fatigue and heat stroke (just kidding), and all at once you felt like you hadn't had enough time to spend with all of these wonderful people.  My days in class, my nights in the library, the many things that I had accomplished at Kaust marched through my mind even as my classmates marched across the stage.

After the ceremony everyone gathered for a reception.  It was something of a farewell party for someone like me as this would be the last time I would see most of these people ever again.  There were plenty of fond goodbyes.  On the surface the mood was light-hearted, but beneath the celebration was a kind of somberness.

Not 12 hours later I was flying out of Jeddah airport, away from Kaust and Saudi Arabia for the last time.  I looked down at the city and the sun rising on the coast.  I knew that I missed the Kaust of those last few days.  But even now that I'm home I feel like I'm not really done with Kaust, partly because I still have weird dreams about it and partly because they still haven't given me my diploma.

Fishing

One of the highlights of Kaust is being on the coast of the Red Sea.  I spent a few good mornings at the campus beach swimming in it.  I spent several amazing afternoons learning to scuba dive in it.  And I spent many quiet nights on my apartment rooftop staring out over it.  The first time I went to Saudi Arabia I was introduced to the Red Sea by way of a midnight fishing trip with some friends, so it was fitting that I bid farewell to the sea in the same way.

During my last couple months at Kaust, my team won the sand volleyball tournament, the prize of which was a plastic medal painted gold and a voucher for a snorkeling trip.  After finding out that I could apply the voucher toward a fishing trip I was inspired.  But I let time slip away...  It was the week of final exams before I finally emailed the marina about the trip and got a few friends together who could go at the same time.

The paperwork made it in just under the wire.  I had to send a flurry of emails and run to meet each of the guys that wanted to go.  Then, in the middle of my first final exam I realized that I had to deliver the money to the marina in 30 minutes.  So I finished the exam in 10 minutes and ran a mile to the marina.  In retrospect there was really no need to run, but it seemed pretty heroic at the time.  I scheduled the trip for the only day that worked for everyone: the day before my last final.  I ended up not studying at all for that exam, which was fine because it was open book.  Plus the trip was awesome.

Amazing.

We left the Kaust harbor with impeccable weather at around 3pm and drove out to sea for 20 minutes.  The boat was captained by a marina staff member but the expedition was really led by a native fisherman named Abu Naif from the nearby fishing village of Thuwal.  The captain made small talk with us and gave us sandwiches and cookies.  The fisherman steered silently while gazing constantly at the horizon until suddenly he stopped and shut off the engine.

Abu Naif had dark leathery skin and cloudy eyes.  He mostly went about barefoot, wore a turban on his head, and was quiet but dignified so that everyone regarded him with respect at a distance.  After dropping the anchor, he pulled out a bunch of styrofoam cubes and small dead fish.  And after a moment of wondering about the styrofoam, my friends and I discovered that the cubes were our fishing tackle, with line coiled round and round, and the dead fish the bait.

Fishing Tackle                                        Abu Naif   

Silently Abu Naif sliced up the fish and silently he began baiting the hooks.  Mumbling, he handed a line to each of us.  We dropped in one by one until we could feel our weights hit the bottom and then reeled in about 5 feet of line by re-wrapping it around our fishing "pole"...  And then we waited.

The hardest part.

Provided that the fish are biting, I find that it is most fun to fish with a group of people with mixed experience.  The more experienced members can educate the others and the newcomers can provide an air of excitement.  My friends were all pretty green so there was no shortage of excitement.  When Abu Naif pulled in the first fish (predictably), it made quite the impression.  He laughed at our admiration, threw back the fish, and dared us all to do better.  And one by one... we did.

The easiest part.

In the four hours that we spent on the water, everyone caught something so that by the end of the night we had a dazzling collection of exotic fish and enough meat for a respectable cookout.  Which we eventually had.  At my place.  And then again two days later at someone else's place.  It was delicious.  Both times.

This fishing trip turned out to be the signature moment of a memorable graduation week.  It reminds me of all that's good about Kaust: the students that I'll never forget.  It almost makes me want to turn back the clock and do it all over again in spite of everything that went wrong.  Almost.

How Late is Too Late?

On February 20, 2011 I got an email from Kaust maintenance kindly informing me that my request to fix the low water pressure in my apartment had been met.  Note that I received this email 9 days ago as of the publication of this post.  I have not been within a 1000 miles of either Kaust or that apartment for two and a half months.  Even better, that maintenance request was filed on March 10, 2010.

Artwork

A sample of the artwork of Kaust...

Street Smarts

Kaust is pretty new so it doesn't have much traffic yet.  But one day it will.  And when it does, the minor design flaws in the road system will become more than a little irritating.

The first problem is the signage.  It's posted in awkward places and in illogical colors.  When you drive by you notice that the signs are either very high, or else very low, or too far from the curb, or ten feet farther on down the road than you would have liked.  The traffic lights are like this too.  They are so close to the point at which cars stop at an intersection that it can be hard to see them when you're the first car in line.  Alternate light posts for the same intersection may exist, but they're across the intersection at bizarre angles to the driver.  As for colors, some of the street signs consist of white lettering on a light green field.  This may not be too hard to make out when you're standing still at a short distance away, but when you're driving by on a sunny day (of which there are many) it can be very hard to see.

Some of the intersections themselves are unusual in that, instead of the sidewalk corners coming to near-90˚ angles, they are rounded off in broad arcs.  This has several consequences.  When the corners are rounded in this way, there is a larger gap between two opposing corners.  If pedestrians were to cross from arc to arc they would be exposed in the street for a longer amount of time.  The crosswalks at Kaust, like those of an ordinary street, are set back before the arcs begin.  However unlike an ordinary street, they have to be set back further from the intersection.  The result?  Pedestrians walking along the sidewalk who wish to cross the street must take an unnecessary detour.  If you've ever tried it, you know that it can be bothersome.

Normal                                                  Kaust

A second consequence of having the crosswalks set so far back from the intersection is a loss of visibility.  A driver parked farther back from the road will be less able to see past the obstacles on the corner and even a small decrease in the angle of a driver's range of visibility poses a significant disadvantage.  Take the following example.

Normal                                                  Kaust

Suppose we assume the following based on measurements of an actual intersection:

• The road is 30' wide.
• A car stopping at a normal intersection will stop 15' back from the crossing street.
• A car stopping at a Kaust intersection will stop 20' back from the crossing street.
• The driver sits 5' behind the front of the car and 3' in from the center line of the road.
• The roads are bordered by 5'-wide sidewalks.
• There is an obstruction blocking the driver's view to the left that sits 10' back from the road.

The driver that stops at the normal intersection can see 84' down the road to the left before he can no longer see the lane of cars coming from that direction.  By contrast, the driver that stops at the Kaust intersection can only see 66' before his vision of oncoming traffic from the left is totally obscured.  That's a difference of 18'.  For a traffic going 30 mph, that translates to nearly a half-second more of visibility for the car at the normal intersection, a significant difference.

Shopping Carts

Are shopping carts an important part of life?  Not really.  Not at all, actually.  But at Kaust they do an excellent job of representing how things are done.  That is to say, they are a hassle and barely functional.  They are a foolishly designed, terrible product and yet they have been purchased in large numbers.  If anyone had tested them beforehand or studied successful pre-existing models at one of the millions of logical grocery stores all around the world, then this problem would have been avoided entirely.

There is only one problem with the shopping carts at Tamimi, Kaust's only grocery store.  Unfortunately that problem is pretty big, especially considering that you can't really do much wrong when designing a shopping cart.  On a normal cart only the front wheels are on swivels and rotate when a driver turns the cart.  The back wheels, on the other hand, are fixed in position to face forward, much like the wheels of a car.  At Tamimi, all four wheels are on swivels and the wheels all turn freely.  Why is this a problem?

When the two rear wheels are fixed, the cart driver simply has to apply more force to one side in order to cause the cart to pivot and continue on in the new direction.  The driver walks behind the cart and the two move in a smooth arc.  The process is so simple that most people don't even think about it.  In contrast, when all four wheels are on swivels it's like trying to drive on ice.  You apply the same force to the cart and it doesn't move in an arc.  It just spins in front of you.  It rotates but it doesn't progress at all in the new direction that you want to go.  In order to turn such a cart you have to either drag it forcefully sideways or move your body around it until you are facing in the new direction.  It's difficult and silly.  I don't recommend it.

There is a reason that every shopping cart you've ever pushed is the way that it is, Tamimi just hasn't figured it out yet.

Library

I've spent too much time in the library not to give it a shout out.  For two exhausting semesters I lived in this place.  I mostly went there at night, sometimes all night, and this is reflected in the pictures.  The atmosphere is quiet, cold, cavernous, and a little eerie.  You start to go kind of insane by 5am before the first rays of light peek in and bring you back.

Legendary.

I am weirdly captivated by the Kaust library.  On the one hand it was the backdrop for some of my most trying moments and my mind pushes the thought of it away.  On the other hand, those experiences were so strong that they're like a part of me.  I won't just remember the library after I'm gone, I'll feel it.

I've slept here.

Part of the reason I'll forever feel the library is because it was always so cold.  It's gotten a little better this semester, but that first year was brutal.  It was like Kaust was training us to become extreme engineers, capable of solving problems in the most inhospitable conditions.  I have one pair of jeans and one sweatshirt that I would always put on before going in for a late night.  On one occasion I actually brought my comforter from home.  This upset the security guards.

Another quick story: one night during the first semester a massive storm hit Kaust.  It rained heavily for hours.  It started around midnight so naturally I was in the library.  After one of my friends came in to spread the news, those of us in the library computer lab got up to have a look.  Turns out we didn't have to go far to see the rain because it was leaking through the library roof like a sieve.  It wasn't just trickling, it was gushing.  Steady streams of water were dousing the whole library--a place full of computers and books--and there wasn't much anyone could do about it.  My favorite part was the administration's way of verbally addressing the leaks and deflecting blame from themselves.  "You have to understand that this kind of rain only happens once every 20 years in Saudi Arabia!"  Wait, so you built the university without expecting it to last 20 years?  That's why you didn't waterproof the buildings?  Hilarious.

Where I was when the rain hit.