Correct me if I'm wrong...
…being Saudi means that my social status is either limited to spinsterhood or a legal status correction that includes the change of hands to my guardianship from one Saudi (my father) to another (a foolish husband).
That last trip to the Saudi Embassy confirmed it when the very shocked Saudi Diplomat's eyebrows touched his hairline because I had told him that I'm quite happy living in a non-Saudi country. "But that means that you may never get married! Aren't you worried about THAT?!"
I know a lot of my kin would rather not marry Saudis. And it's kind of expected to want to have a non-Saudi wife when you have had and been raised and fed by a non-Saudi mother. Especially for my chronically Oedipal cousins and brothers.
Whatever in the world gave those law-making Saudis the assumption that ALL Saudis would only want to marry other Saudis? Are our options limited to marrying just our own cousins?
Dude, not even the bedus do that anymore.
Some Saudis do get away with marrying a non-Saudis by having the right wastah to smooth things up for them in the Department of Innards. But for us hybrids - who are practically second generation immigrants by Purebred Saudi Standards - beyond elementary school, our collection of wastah are only powerful enough to book airplane seats on peak seasons. Which means that there's no way that we can puff our ways into the legal Saudi systems.
Much less legalizing an international marriage.
I almost sound like a bitter spinster even though it's very unlikely for me to rant on such issues; for I have never so grateful for my unleashed status, nor have I laughed at the peculiarity of my life as much I have today. This what happens to a girl on PMS and reading too many feminist-Saudi blogs in one day, giving way to that devilish thought to creep up on me: why have I not been dating Saudis if that would have raised my chances of marrying?
Right, because no Saudi boy would want to live in a Javanese farm.
Thank God I still have that.