Starting My Life in Saudi Arabia: The Fear, The Heat, and Why I Stayed (My Story)

The night before my flight to Riyadh, I didn't sleep.

I stared at my open suitcase, double-checking my documents for the tenth time. I had my passport, my visa printout, and my degree attestation. But what weighed heaviest wasn't the luggage—it was the anxiety.

I had read the news. I had scrolled through the forums. I had listened to the concerned whispers of my family. "Are you sure about this?" my mother had asked, her voice trembling. "It’s so strict there. It’s so different."

To be honest, I wasn't sure. I was moving to the Kingdom for the same reason most of us do: a tax-free salary and a chance to accelerate my career. I told myself, "It’s just two years. I’ll save money, keep my head down, and come home."

That was five years ago.

I am still here. And the Saudi Arabia I live in today is nothing like the scary, closed-off world I imagined that night. If you are packing your bags right now, terrified of the unknown, here is the honest story of my first few months—the struggle, the culture shock, and the moment I fell in love with this complicated, beautiful country.

The First Impact: The "Hairdryer" Heat

We need to talk about the weather first because nothing prepares you for it.

When I stepped out of King Khalid International Airport, it was 1:00 AM in August. I expected it to be cool. Instead, it felt like someone was holding a hot hairdryer directly against my face. The air was heavy, smelling faintly of dust and aviation fuel. My glasses fogged up instantly.

For the first two weeks, I thought I had made a huge mistake. I felt trapped by the sun. I learned quickly that life in Riyadh has a different rhythm. You don't go for a walk at 2:00 PM. You hide. You move from air-conditioned apartment to air-conditioned car to air-conditioned office.

The Lesson: I eventually learned to love the night. Saudi Arabia comes alive after sunset. The parks fill with families at 10:00 PM. The coffee shops on Tahlia Street are buzzing at midnight. I had to unlearn my Western schedule and embrace the nocturnal lifestyle of the desert.

The Loneliness of the First Month

My first apartment was... depressing. I rushed into renting a cheap "Bachelor" apartment in a random neighborhood because I wanted to save money. It was a single room with a small window facing a brick wall.

I didn't know the language. I didn't have a car yet (waiting for my Iqama). Uber fees were eating my budget. I would go to work, come home, eat takeout, and watch Netflix. I felt the "Expat Blues" hard. I questioned if the money was worth this isolation.

The Turning Point: It changed when I stopped hiding. I forced myself to go to a "Kashta" (desert camping trip) with a colleague. We drove out to the red sands of Thumamah. Sitting on a carpet under a sky full of stars, drinking sweet tea while guys drifted their Land Cruisers on the dunes nearby, I realized something: People here know how to enjoy life. They don't need alcohol or clubs to have fun. They have community.

The "New" Saudi Arabia (Vision 2030)

I cannot stress this enough: The Saudi Arabia you read about in old blogs does not exist anymore.

When I arrived, the changes were just starting. Now, they are moving at light speed.

Entertainment: My first weekend here, there was nothing to do. Last weekend, I had to choose between a Food Festival, a Jazz Concert, and a Boxing match.
Women in Society: I work alongside brilliant Saudi women every day. They are driving, they are managing teams, and they are leading businesses. The "segregation" I feared is fading fast in the professional world.

Living here feels like having a front-row seat to history. You can feel the energy in the air. The youth are optimistic, and that energy is infectious. It makes you want to build something, too.

The "Golden Handcuffs" (Money & Lifestyle)

Let’s be real about the finances. The tax-free salary is amazing. Seeing your full paycheck hit your bank account on the 27th of the month is a feeling that never gets old.

But here is the trap: Saudi Arabia can be very cheap, or very expensive.

The Cheap: Gas is cheaper than water. You can get a delicious Shawarma for 5 SAR. Electricity is reasonable.
The Expensive: The "Lifestyle Creep." When everyone around you drives a Tahoe, wears designer watches, and vacations in the Maldives, you start to want those things too.

In my first year, I saved 60% of my income. By year three, I was saving only 20% because I was enjoying life too much. I don't regret it, but if you are coming here strictly to save, you need discipline.

Safety: The Surprise Factor

This is what my mom was most worried about. Is it safe? Will you be arrested?

The irony is that Riyadh is safer than the London suburb where I grew up. I have left my laptop on a coffee shop table for 15 minutes while I went to pray or use the washroom. It was there when I came back. I see people leave their cars running while they run into the grocery store (Baqala). Theft is incredibly rare. Violent crime is almost non-existent for expats.

There is a "Social Contract" here. People follow the rules. As long as you respect the culture and the laws, the country wraps you in a blanket of security that is hard to find elsewhere.

Navigating the Culture (My "oops" Moments)

I made mistakes.

I tried to shake a Saudi woman's hand in a meeting (She politely placed her hand over her heart instead—I learned later that men generally don't initiate handshakes with women).
I wore shorts to a government office (I was turned away at the door by security).
I ate with my left hand at a communal dinner (A gentle nudge from a friend corrected me).

But here is the thing: Saudis are incredibly forgiving. They know you are a foreigner. They don't expect you to be perfect. They value intent. If you smile, say "Salam Alaykum," and try your best, they will welcome you with open arms.

The hospitality is not a myth. I have been invited to the homes of strangers for dinner simply because we struck up a conversation in a queue. I have had my car dug out of the sand by passersby who refused to take any money.

Why I Stayed

My contract ended three years ago. I could have gone home. But I renewed it.

I stayed because my career has grown faster here than it ever could have back home. I stayed because I have friends here from Egypt, Lebanon, India, Pakistan, and the Philippines who have become my chosen family. I stayed because, despite the heat, the bureaucracy, and the chaotic driving, Saudi Arabia has a way of getting under your skin.

It challenges you. It forces you to grow. And in the middle of the desert, you might just find a version of yourself you didn't know existed.

Advice for the New Arrival

If you are reading this from your hotel room, feeling lonely and wondering if you made the right choice:

Give it 6 Months: Don't judge KSA by your first week. The first month is hard. The second month is confusing. By the sixth month, you won't want to leave.
Say "Yes": If a colleague invites you for coffee, go. If someone invites you to the desert, go. Your life here lives and dies by your social circle.
Get a Car: Riyadh is not a walking city. Freedom is a vehicle. (Read my guide on [Buying a Used Car] to avoid getting scammed).

Welcome to the Kingdom. It’s going to be a wild ride, but I promise you—it’s worth it.