[This is part of the series: A List of Things I Remember About Living In Saudi Arabia.]
In Saudi Arabia, I remember shopping for Persian rugs.
My mom wanted this perfect rug, you see.
The prefect rug for our dining room.
The problem was it wasn’t anything specific.
It was a I’ll-know-it-when-I-see-it kind of rug.
The result of all this was my parents drug an impatient 5th grader to, what seemed like, every rug store in the Middle East.
I learned how to turn a rug over and count the knots per square inch on the back, and why there are intentional mistakes put into hand woven Persian rugs.
If you are curious: It’s because only Allah can make something perfect.
Today there is nothing more condescending than the smirk I make walking past rugs at the neighborhood big-box hardware store.
Also published on Medium.