Souvlaki & Mutaween

Today was my first encounter with a muttawa, a member of Saudi Arabia's religious police. The religious police force is often called hay'ah, which in English translates into "the Commission", a shortened version of "the Commission for the Promotion of Virtue and Prevention of  Vices". As you can imagine, they're a very well-liked bunch by the expat community. After all, who doesn't want to get bullied into complying with the rules of a religion they don't follow?
Anyway, here's what happened. This morning my sister announced that she needed some school supplies. Not having a driver and my father being away on a business trip, a family friend, who is also Greek, offered to drive us all to the bookstore. By the time we were finished shopping, the store was beginning to lock up for prayer time. Walking through the parking lot, I suddenly remembered that someone told me about a Greek souvlaki place right down our street and suggested we go check it out, since it was on our way. The prospect of a taste of home was too exciting for anyone to resist, so we headed over. Luckily, it hadn't closed for prayer yet, so we entered. Not surprisingly, a group of Filipino guys were behind the counter, working the skewer and wrapping the souvlaki. We ordered, and when the employees found out we were Greek, they engaged us in conversation, telling us that their boss is in Greece now, that he is planning on opening another restaurant in Jeddah, asking us how long we've been here etc etc. We were blissfully unaware that it was officially prayer time, until someone whispered forcefully "Muttawa!".  The man who was talking to us leaped over to close the shades, but it was too late. The door was already open and the muttawa was standing outside in all his bearded glory. Accompanying him was a big guy in military attire, a surly expression on his face. 
The muttawa did all the talking. First, he confronted the restaurant employees for not locking up for prayer time. They were very apologetic, but didn't look too worried, especially when a young Saudi employee from one of the neighbouring shops jumped in to defend them. It seemed as if he was saying something along the lines of  "Never mind them, they're Filipinos, they're clueless when it comes to our ways". Next, he rounded on our family friend. He very pointedly avoided looking at us women, as that would hardly qualify as "promoting virtue".  Squinting menacingly, he asked, "Inklish?
"Yes, sorry, no Arabic."
"She wife?" the muttawa demanded.
"Of course!",  our friend replied cheerfully. "We've only been in Saudi Arabia for a little while, this is the first time she's come out of the house", he continued to lie through his teeth.
"In Saudia, women cover hair", the muttawa declared in a didactic tone. 
I could practically feel my hair audaciously grow two sizes in the humidity, as if protesting this comment, so I quickly wrapped my hijab around it as best as I could. It looked totally sloppy, but it was enough to save everyone from the promiscuity that is my hair. Apparently.
"You Germany?" , he asked next. (We all have dark hair and complexions so I have no idea how he came up with that)
"No, no, Yunani!", our friend proclaimed with pride, using the Arabic word for "Greek".
Now, people in Saudi Arabia have always greeted our Greek nationality with enthusiasm. I'm not sure why, but they really like us. I never expected this to happen, though. The muttawa's savage face immediately broke into a huge yellow grin and he exclaimed: "Welcome, Welcome!", shaking our friend's hand vigorously. And just like that, the scolding was over.  The muttawa and his crony returned to their vehicle and left to prevent vice occurring elsewhere.
So, that was my first run-in with a muttawa. I had heard stories of people getting arrested or beaten by the religious police, even of a British man who was dragged forcefully to the mosque to pray, so I definitely wasn't expecting it to be such a mild encounter. To be honest, I was half-hoping for a bit more drama. Nothing too serious, maybe a bit of yelling in incomprehensible Arabic. Anyway, it was still an interesting experience, and we were actually very lucky to get away with it so easily.
Oh yeah, I did have souvlaki in the end. It was excellent.