The pattern.

Jeddah often feels like a city that quietly sorts itself. The same coastline, the same streets, yet certain places seem to attract certain crowds. Not by rule, not by announcement, but by something understood the moment you walk into the room.

Saul Steinberg, American Downtown.

The invisible boundaries.

If you live in Jeddah you'll probably agree with this, Jeddah feels like it's divided into 2 sections, east and west and the road that vertically separates the city would be Madinah Road. But the spot to drive around and hang and find stuff to do is definitely the west of Jeddah, as the east is more crowded, trafficked and might feel overstimulating to some.

To simplify socialising in the city, it's easier if we look at public places, cafes, malls, events.

Driving through the city we'd notice that some areas are filled with a certain crowd that it attracts, Al-Murjan attracts a crowd that's very different than Al-Zahra, but somewhat close to Khaldiah. Malls like Arab Mall, Attracts a certain crowd than Red Sea Mall. And so on. But there's something within...

The Silent Standard.

Take Locals Cafe, for example. English slips more naturally into conversations, and Hermes sandals appear often enough to feel less like a coincidence and more like a uniform. At Woods Cafe, where the more neatly pressed thobes and Najdi-style abayas are, and the passion of competitive line hunting.

These worlds rarely collide. But when they do, it subtly shows. If we'd introduce a group from Woods to Locals, the crowd would know and vice versa.

Two guys walk into Locals Cafe. The first pauses for a second, absorbing the room, asks the barista what's their best seller is, playing around with his Subha.

The second follows, greets the barista in English, rolling his Rs to the point of perfection, with his beaten-down sneakers. Of course, Golden Goose.

No one says anything, only the room feels it. And I have to admit, I've been both.

Passing along the earth globe roundabout, trying to reach the food trucks behind Mcdonald's to stay in line for 30-45 minutes to get maybe some Soufflé to feature as a Snapchat streak or story. The weather is nice so you turn off the A/C since last Feb, and you enjoy the breeze. As cars are driving by with their music blasting.

The Blacked out Mercedes C class, playing Drake, in their hoodies, following the Hyundai Kona.

Second car passes by, a Genesis G80 blasting Abdulmajed Abdullah, with white LED interior lights on, following the same Kona.

You don't need to ask which cafe they just left.

On the weekend you've planned a two day beach getaway, Friday you went to La Plage. A certain crowd. A certain taste.

On Saturday you decided to change the scenery, heading to Silver Sands, but it's unclear if the beach is the destination or the audience.

Each crowd has its own rituals of socialising, if that’s even the right word. In my view, it feels less like connection and more like an ancestral signal. A quiet exchange between hunter and hunted.

Still, the crowds flow within each other, rarely colliding, but constantly aware. Each moving inside its own bubble. Sharing enough common ground to pretend it's one city.

What makes me wonder and kind of sad, is that everyone in the city seems as if their following a certain trend, everyone has the urge to fit in, fall into a certain crowd, and to fit in, you'll have to do certain stuff that the people you're trying to fit in with do, listen to their music, join their "events" or change your whole personality to feel like you belong. I'm not saying that unqiue personalities and people are not around. They are, definitely.

I guess the overwhelming majority is the almost cloned groups of individuals. I pity the people who are aware of the detachment, but still work so hard to fit in. The idea of being your own character might be intimidating, or terrifying to some.

The city starts to feel like the same patterns repeating itself, only in different coordinates. And once you notice it, you begin to see it everywhere.

Maybe it was never about connection. Maybe it was always about being seen.

Criticised Locally, with love.