I pop another piece of gold-fried sweet ball into my mouth and look into her eyes.

“I love these! Please send my regards to your mother, amazing culinary skills!”

“Yeah, I will.”

“We both know you won’t.”

My friend and I burst into laughter. It’s midnight and we are sitting at a table right next to the pool in one of my favorite compounds. Lanterns, typical for the Ramadan period, combined with the dazzling blue and red neons produce a slightly harsh ambient lightning, not unusual for similar venues in this region.

Night temperatures in Riyadh fall down from the hellish 45 to cozy 30 degrees, but with the sound of water lazily splashing against the walls of the pool and the soft mist coming out of thin hoses laid around the floor, I feel almost cold.

The restaurant consists of a kitchen and a set of tables and chairs located around a pool, located inside of a block of 4-story tall apartment buildings. The guests are mostly mixed groups of families, friends, or couples. As of now, I still have no clue of differentiating between the nationalities, but my best guess would be a combination of Syrians, Jordans, Lebanese, and other non-Saudi Arabs. Only here and there does a glimpse of blond hair and blue eyes distort the mostly dark-haired group of people.

I roll down the sleeves of my shirt and take a deep breath from my shisha. Grape with mint, my all-time favorite flavor. With thin clouds of smoke still leaving my mouth, I ask my friend again.

“But really, let’s say I would pop up at your house here in Riyadh. How would your family react?”

My friend closes her eyes and presses her full lips together for a second, as if imagining an extremely hypothetical and difficult situation. After a short while, she looks back at me and answers.

“That would be just… unimaginable. My family is not from Saudi, but they are crazy conservative. Not all people from my country are like that, but it’s maybe because we have lived here for a long, long time.”

“I understand, but my question remains the same. How would a hypothetical visit to your house look like? Like me knocking at your door and saying something like ‘Hey Mr. Mother, how are you?’”

“Haha, I’m willing to pay a serious amount of money to see that with my own eyes. So first and foremost I could not invite you. I mean, I would not invite you. My mother would think that I have become crazy. But my brothers could actually invite you and that would be OK.”

“By OK you mean that I would be able to enter your house and chat with your brothers, right?”

“Yeah, you wouldn’t be able to see me, my mother, nor my sister. You would be spending time in the men guest room, my brothers would bring food from the kitchen, and you all would spend a lovely evening.”

“Would I be able to eat more of these sweet fried balls?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Yalla, let’s go then.”

We both smile. I continue: “You mentioned that you mother would think that you have become crazy. What do you mean with that?”

“It’s just… well it’s funny because today I perceive it as strange as well, but I can still somehow relate myself to it as I was a part of a sect before and I was a bit different. At that time, I just didn’t see it as normal. I mean it depends, some families at my country are more liberal, some are conservative. My family is on the conservative side.”

I know that she was a member of an Islam sect back in “the days”, but I want to push a little bit more to understand it better.

“What do you mean with your family not seeing it as normal?”

“You see Michal, back at that time I just thought that being with an unrelated man is plainly scary. Anything could happen. I guess it was fear. You remember the video you sent me the other day about those two girls helping people from Muslim societies to become non-religious?”

“Yeah.”

“That is actually not so easy. I’m not saying that it is the same everywhere, but since I was born I was taught that Islam is a great religion. I was taught that I was, in a way, chosen and that I was extremely lucky to be born as a member of this society. That Islam was my privilege. Who would ever want to leave this amazing group of people? That is the ultimate over encompassing question and that is what will define you as crazy when you start trying to get out of this society.”

“I understand, but there are many faces of Islam – look at the differences between the Islam in this region, Africa, South-East Asian countries, or even Europe. The face and perception of Islam changes, in many countries it’s becoming less external and more internal. And I’m not even talking about the religion itself from 200 or 800 years ago – you had constant dialogues going on about how exactly should the implementation of religion look like. And we are not even talking about the difference between religion and the societies practicing a certain interpretation of it – like you and your sect for example.”

“Yes, you are right. But as I said before, my family is on the conservative side. Many of my friends are as well, in fact. That is the funny thing – I have met you only few times, but I could tell you things that I couldn’t tell many of my long-year friends, as they wouldn’t understand this part of me and would judge me.”

“Like the part about your bisexuality?”

“Haha, stop it, that’s not even true! That was just my boyfriend who said it by looking at my finger.”

“I have absolutely no clue how does that work but I’m not letting you go until you explain me that story in more detail.”

“Well there is not much to explain. He just looked at my finger tip and said that based on the length of the last segment of my index finger I’m a bisexual.”

“What is that analysis based on?”

“No idea. All I can tell you is that my Saudi boyfriend said that.”

“So… you are bisexual then.”

“I told you already that I’m not!”

I smile and continue: “So you have never even kissed a girl then?”

“No, never. I didn’t do many experiments during the teenage phase of my life and now I just don’t feel like it anymore.”

“You won’t believe me but I have a friend who discovered that she wants to experiment a bit more with one girl she met at the age of 28.”

“No way! You have to tell me more!”

I take a deep, dramatic sip from my shisha to increase the tension a bit, and unfold the story.

The night goes on and on. We exchange many more stories (ranging anywhere from “Internalization of religion” to “How one day my Arab dorm-mate removed her hijab and unconsciously showed a neck full of hickies”) and at half past one we decide to call it a night.

While waiting at the entrance gate for our IDs, I ask my friend about her plans for the rest of the night.

“Well I will arrive back home at two. Maybe watch some Youtube, then have a tea or water at three, and perhaps go to sleep at dawn. As I told you I took some time off so I’m not going to work now.”

“I’m slightly jealous. But it surely sounds like a nice plan. Anyway thanks for today and good night. Oh and by the way, you mentioned that your boyfriend will be free next week.”

“Yeah, he should have some time off.”

“What about going for a tea together?”

“That sounds like a good idea. I can’t guarantee you anything, but I will definitely try to ask him.”

“Please do. Based on what you have told me he seems to be a really nice guy. Plus, it’s not like one gets many opportunities to meet a Saudi who took a similar path from extreme religiousness to a slightly more relaxed worldview.”