My country, Saudi Arabia: 'We're all in this together'

The lights are dim. It's almost sunset. Silence pervades. Standing in line next to dozens of

others on colourful rubber mats, I think of the resemblance between Maghrib (sunset) prayers

in Jeddah, demonstrations in the Arab world and my yoga class in New York City's East

Village.

Our young instructor asks us to get closer to each other and try to fit an extra two people

in each line. I smile. Her words remind me of the Imam at our local mosque in Jeddah. "Unite

your lines," the Imam always urged us before leading the prayer. "Don't leave a space for the

devil among you."

Stretching, I meditate on the reason behind the call for mass demonstrations in Arab

countries after Friday prayers. But of course. United, faithful, serene, equal and barefoot,

together we stand, kneel and prostrate ourselves to a higher cause, always making sure there

is no space for the devil to separate us from our comrades or lure us into evil. We're all in

this together. No one could've guessed that, at some point in our history, the serenity of

prayers would release, so naturally, all the rage and frustration that Arab dictatorships

suppressed for decades.

From an early age, I had questions, doubts and rage. It was hard for me to focus and be calm

during prayers. I always felt guilty and ashamed for betraying God in his house of worship. I

daydreamed of my own revolution, when women, courageously inflamed by injustice, would take

to the streets of Arabia and demand freedom.

Now, in Manhattan, as a 32-year-old woman, I listen as my yoga instructor urges us to relax,

to breathe in and breathe out, to free my mind. As usual, I fail. This time I have a good

excuse, and I'm neither ashamed nor scared to declare it. I'm an Arab. Revolutions are

sweeping my part of the world — hurray! I'm happy, very happy and proud. But above all, I'm

restless.

As an Arab, a Saudi and a woman witnessing Arab revolts from a distance, I feel exuberant yet

frustrated that I'm not taking a direct part in making history. My sense of loneliness

deepens, despite my attempts to console myself with standing in line in "secular prayers." My

anxiety accelerates. Glued to Twitter and Facebook feeds, I get news from first-hand sources.

The bravery makes me tear up one second, and the very next crack up at the protesters' sense

of humour. It turns out we're funny too.

Will revolution find its way to my land? Yes, the uprising has indeed reached Saudi Arabia.

As soon as I hear the news my panic vanishes. A group of 5th graders in a public girls'

school in Riyadh has echoed the Egyptians. They yell loudly: "The people want to bring down

the principal."

My fellow sisters and future dissidents, comrades, I have faith in you. Stay close to each

other, shoulder to shoulder. Pray for us. Pray for our salvation and sanity.