Epilogue

My memories of Jeddah are fuzzy, yet distinct. Learning to swim in the camp pool; Saudis in smart keffiyeh headdresses affectionately pinching my cheek; colourful fishes darting around my legs at the beach - are experiences that sit in sharp contrast to the life we returned to. Jeddah was a place of lifelong bonds: many of our closest family friendships were formed there.
   
Growing up, my Dad was somewhat elusive: he worked long hours and we spent downtime largely apart. We also rarely saw eye-to eye: I’m not an easy person to live with and haven’t followed the path my parents envisaged for me. But towards the end of his life, my Dad and I were beginning to find a new and improved mutual understanding. This hopeful new chapter was to remain largely unwritten however - he died suddenly and unexpectedly just a few short months after his retirement.

In 2016, inspired by conversations with my friend Bash about his pilgrimage to Mecca, I revisited my father’s photographs and mementos of our time in Saudi. I uncovered a vast and detailed archive of a construction project that speaks to all the things that pique my interest as an adult. The archive and photographs became the jumping-off points to find answers to the questions I never got to ask my Dad. I reconnected with KAIA camp friends, and made new connections with other lives touched by the Terminal: Bill Cannan, Bash Khan, Yasmin Sabina Khan and Chip Richie.

As it progressed, it became clear the project was offering up exciting new possibilities and opportunities for an active dialogue with the present, courtesy of new works by Matt Green, C-Jaye Newton, Moving Still & Ally Wallace.  These not only afford us the opportunity to explore a truly multi-layered place, but have also become a way for me to have the conversations with my Dad I think we’d be having now - about contemporary art, design, geopolitics, culture and people. The Hajj Terminal is the zenith of all these things. And I thank my father, and the Terminal, for instilling that in me.

Natalie Davidson