During the King Faisal Prize ceremony in Riyadh last week I had an interesting encounter with an American businesswoman who was on her first visit to the Kingdom.

“So how have you found it so far?” I asked curious as to what her initial impressions were.

“I was really very impressed. It’s not at all like I had imagined it to be.”

This is a sentiment that is echoed by most people who come to Saudi Arabia from other parts of the world. The constant pictures that flood our television screens pertaining to the pitiful situation in Iraq has come to symbolize much of the Middle East for most people who have not otherwise experienced this region firsthand. The fact that our country has been singularly targeted as a nidus for terrorism and a hotbed of fanatics conjures up all sorts of perverse images within people’s collective subconscious. I can’t say I was surprised by what she had said, but it did leave me feeling a little despondent, especially considering that the Kingdom is a far safer place than most.

“Well, it’s not as if the average American really cares about Saudi Arabia anyway,” I conjectured.

“Did you use the word ‘care’?” she asked astonished.

I nodded my head disinterestedly.

“No! I am sorry, but you are mistaken. They do care,” she said emphatically. “In fact, they really care a lot. The biggest problem is that they just don’t understand. They really don’t.”

“Yes, but they don’t exactly try very hard to, do they?” I retorted with frustration. “And besides, I just don’t think that people in Maine or Nevada are particularly bothered about what is going on here. From what I have seen, there are many Americans who don’t even really know about what’s going on outside their own state, leave alone in this part of the world. I think that the majority tends to see this country as part of the big amorphous Middle Eastern glob. Bahrain, Saudi Arabia, Oman. It’s all the same.”

“You’re right in a way,” she agreed, “but I have a question to ask you if I may. What do people here think of America?”

“I can’t generalize, but I truly believe that as individuals we think that they are wonderful. It’s your government that we have an ax to grind with, not good wholesome good-intentioned average Americans.”

“Well, I am glad to hear that you separate the two. But tell me honestly, even though you are educated and seem to know quite a lot, don’t you see Americans as being the same across the board?”

I thought about what she had just asked and suddenly realized that I did. I sheepishly admitted to my own shortsightedness and she stunned me further with the comment, “You see. Misunderstandings exist on both sides.”

What she said struck a chord deep within me. Here was this bright successful woman who really had no vested interest in trying to unravel what it was that created and perpetuated such animosity, and yet part of the reason for her visiting Riyadh was to do just that. She genuinely wanted to meet with people here and learn from them about what it is that they thought and how it was that they felt.

“I think that my people really don’t realize how important Saudi Arabia is as a country,” she continued. “The fact that most of our oil and energy comes from here doesn’t even occur to them. The fact that so many people in the world look to this country as their spiritual guide really doesn’t register with the folks back home. It’s only when you point this out to people that they actually begin to see it for what it is.”

“I know what you mean,” I asserted, “but you also have to recognize that we are a very proud people. We respect your country but this does not imply that we want to be ‘liberated’ by you or become a clone of you. We have our own code of morality and system of government. Our culture and tradition cannot be usurped by the ubiquitous M sign. Yes, we want to improve ourselves, but we don’t want your ideas of what constitutes a democracy superimposed upon us. There is no single magic fo