In Saudi Arabia, as in most Islamic countries, Thursday and Friday comprise the weekend, Friday being the day the population goes to the mosque. On this particular Friday, my day started with golf at the Riyadh Country Club. I joined my foursome at 6:00 A.M. to begin our round. We wanted to finish before 10:00 A.M. because the temperature would pass 100 degrees about that time.

Golfing at Riyadh Country Club is quite different than golfing in the United States. Number one, there is no grass. The fairways are scraped by a road grader into a semblance of flatness and the greens are actually "browns" created by sand which has been oiled to prevent its blowing away. Some of us carry plastic bottle caps to place the ball for elevation from the rocky soil while others carry a piece of Astroturf to prevent club damage. Particularly fun is watching a drive bouncing down the fairway like a pinball and going past 300 yards easily.

From the fairway, shots are aimed at the brown. When the ball hits the oily sand, of course, it gets buried. Near each brown is a pipe attached to a long handle so that players may smooth a path to the hole and putt. You can imagine how footprints from prior players pockmark the surface.

On this day, a peculiar event occurred. The seventh hole is a "water hole" where we have to imagine a dust dry depression as containing water. Of course, my drive reached it. When I arrived there and stooped to retrieve my ball, a yellow and red snake appeared from a scruffy bush a few feet from me and looked me in the eye. It was about six feet in length and seemed to contemplate where its next slither would take it. I felt no fear, only respect. I believe in omens and thought about what meaning this carried.

Friday is also the day the Bedouins come to the city from the desert to sell crafts in the "Bedou Souk." We had arranged for a group to go there after the round of golf. I had no time to spare because of the arrangements, so I didn't even have a chance to properly refresh myself. In the summer, it is considered wise to always carry water, no matter what the activity. The air is so dry that there is no feeling of sweat because it evaporates immediately. Too much exposure can cause problems. Although this Friday wasn't the hottest I suffered, it was hot! (Hottest day while there was 141 degrees.)

The souk is located near Clocktower Square in downtown Riyadh. The main mosque is there, faced by the Hall of Justice. The clock tower is at the north end of the parking area, Hall of Justice to the east and the mosque opposing it on the west. The south end leads to the souk.

After a short time at the souk, I began thirsting. I separated myself from the group with the intent of finding some refreshment nearby. I exited the souk and headed for Clocktower Square to find a store and get some water. I entered the parking area to be surprised by the lack of cars. It was prayer time and it normally would be filled. As I started to cross the empty lot, a Saudi soldier ran down the steps of the Hall of Justice to intercept me. He was dressed in uniform and carried a grease gun over his shoulder. He said nothing, but motioned with his head to have me walk towards the west side of the lot. Thinking of the oddity of the situation, I obeyed and went for where most of the cars were parked.

As I was proceeding, I noticed two men standing on concrete dividers overlooking the empty lot. I approached them and asked them what was going on. They said that there would be a "topping" after prayer call. That explained it!

A "topping" is British vernacular for someone having his head chopped off. I had been in Saudi Arabia for over a year and had heard stories from expats about such events, but none of them had ever seen one. All stories were hearsay of what someone else had told them. As thirsty as I was, I made the decision to join the two on top of the divider and questioned them about their experiences. One was French and, since I speak French, we talked about his witnessing a topping in Taif a few months prior. He pointed to a brown van across the lot as where the prisoner was kept.

As we spoke, the cacophony of prayer call was blasting from loudspeakers just above us. After a few minutes, the Hall of Justice doors opened and a stream of young Saudis in uniform, (probably early teenagers,) filed down the stairs and started to make a cordon of bodies framing the empty lot in an approximate square. Shortly thereafter, an older group of Saudis with grease guns shouldered formed an inner cordon behind the youngsters. All faced outward from the center. By this time, a crowd had gathered and was kept at bay by the cordons. The Saudia 747 passing overhead on its way to Riyadh airport made me realize how surreal this scenario was.

Suddenly, the loudspeakers ceased their obnoxious noise and Saudis began exiting the mosque. Many of them gathered near the southwest corner of the lot and waited for the event. Only a minute or so passed before another loudspeaker sounded. This one was in the hands of a policeman in the middle of the square. As he explained to the crowd what the offense had been, a man was taken from the brown van and led by four policemen towards the center.

He was blindfolded from the crown of his head down to his chin. He moved with difficulty due to his leg irons. His arms were bound at the biceps tightly behind his back. I was hypnotized. As he reached the center of the square, he was forced to kneel and one of the policemen forced his head forward to make his torso parallel to the ground, ripped the collar of his thobe backwards to expose his neck and stepped back.

I never even noticed the executioner until this moment. He had been trailing the group to the center to do his duty. He was dressed in ceremonial attire of red and gold and carried a golden sword perpendicular to the ground immediately behind the group. As soon as the policemen made room, he stepped forward, made a practice swipe, and brought the sword down, cleanly severing the head from the body. The Saudi entourage politely clapped for the executioner's prowess.

When the weight of the head fell, the body jerked back and the carotid artery spewed a red fountain of blood into the air. As the body leaned to the left and keeled over, the arc of blood continued to pulsate outward. My knees buckled and I almost fell off the divider. The pavement was now covered with a huge pool of blood.

Within moments, another man was being led from the van. No! This one was much bigger and bulkier than the first, but the same procedure was occurring. When the executioner brought his sword down this time, there was nothing but a sickening sound of metal meeting bone. Disgusted, the executioner turned one step and came back to the victim (whose head was now touching the ground) and tried once more but only the same sound happened. He tried one more time with the same result and stepped away. A few minutes went by before a doctor came forward to look at the bleeding victim as the blood was gushing from the wounds onto the pavement. He pronounced him dead a few minutes later.

Never had I been so thirsty. I went to get some water.