Exuberant parties and a free sex life are now part of everyday life in many parts of the world. Saudi Arabia is not one of them. However, those who want to love and celebrate free from regulations have also long since networked discreetly there. A search for clues in Riyadh.

Rami glides through the night, the next cigarette at hand. The illuminated glass towers of Riyadh pass by in his windshield. In tattered jeans and a black undershirt, you might find him in Berlin or London, but the young artist has never left Saudi Arabia. It’s been a while since his last relationship with another man. But who knows who he’ll meet at the weekend, a techno party has been announced for Friday. Consumption of alcohol and drugs not excluded.

To this day, Saudi Arabia is considered one of the most conservative countries in the world – an absolutely governed kingdom in which religious police officers monitor good morals and where, according to Islamic jurisprudence, the harshest punishments are possible. As recently as March, 81 people were executed in a single day. According to human rights activists, dissenters are tortured in prisons. Anyone who brings alcohol, drugs or pornographic material into the country can be behind bars for years. Same-sex sex is punishable by imprisonment, caning, and theoretically death.

But under this dark veil of prohibitions something is moving. Countless people in the country want to live out their sexuality freely and secretly network. At the same time, news of unleashed parties from other countries has long since made its way, via the Internet or via wealthy Saudis returning home from stays in Europe or the USA. Previously, Western diplomats and certain sheikhs were considered possible points of contact. For receptions rich in alcohol, for celebrations in well-guarded estates. But now young Saudi Arabians also want to celebrate.

Two thirds of the population are younger than 35 years. “A lot of people here love techno. They love raves,” says Rami, whose real name is different, over iced coffee and his next cigarette. “Saudi Arabia is big and the internet surrounds everyone.” At secret parties people celebrate like anywhere else in the world – and also consume like that. Drugs such as hashish or cocaine are expensive but obtainable, say several insiders of the scene. Illegal substances and bottles keep getting caught by customs. “How do you want to dictate rules for this generation?” asks Rami, “it’s impossible”.

There are concerts with big light shows and pyrotechnics after a ban on concerts was lifted a few years ago and the strict separation of men and women was lifted. Since then, a mixed audience has been partying and dancing in front of Justin Bieber and star DJ David Guetta, and a festival called “Soundstorm” last winter drew more than 700,000 people to the desert.

The government of the de facto ruler, Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, finances and supports these sometimes bombastic – alcohol-free – events, and the “General Authority for Entertainment” is in charge. The last “Soundstorm” edition managed two Guinness World Records: for the highest stage (41 meters) and the show with the most LED lights (60 million). What was not allowed for decades is now apparently being made up for in superlatives.

But the colorful and well-planned fun has a bitter aftertaste. Critics see the events as attempts to cleanse the country’s image with state money on the back of art, music and hip youth culture. According to the music magazine “Billboard”, musicians sometimes earned six times their regular fee to make the crowds twitch with “Soundstorm”. Big money is also used to bring big sports into the country: Formula 1, boxing, horse racing.

At the same time, a secret celebration society has emerged underground. The organizers of these illegal party series at different locations call themselves cryptically “entertainment companies” or “sensory experiences”. Whoever is invited by insiders comes in – or in exceptional cases, whoever answers a detailed questionnaire about their own party past and their circle of friends. Videos of those nights show silhouettes of people moving to beats in dark rooms and swaying figures at dawn.

Thanks to the Internet, there are also those of the 34 million inhabitants who want to lead a free sex life behind closed doors. Homosexuals and other parts of the LGBTI community network in private groups on Instagram or Snapchat. It is not for nothing that “Snap”, where chat messages delete themselves after a short time, is used as extensively in few countries as in Saudi Arabia. Even on dating apps, people are now chatting and making appointments, with possible undercover officers on their tails. A user who says he is homosexual writes that he has downloaded one of the apps several times, but always deleted it: “Because I’m scared.” Many users are “liars”, others need money and would prostitute themselves. “If you get involved with Hinz and Kunz, you take a risk because you don’t know who you’ll end up with next,” he writes.

In a café, which is considered the secret meeting point of the homosexual community, the atmosphere is exuberant. There’s a lot of coming and going as staff prepare cold drinks and cakes behind the counter to the indie-pop vibe. On a paper napkin on a bulletin board, someone wrote “It only takes one kiss – fall in love with me” along with a Snapchat username. It’s easy to forget that a public kiss in Saudi Arabia can mean at least a fine and a few tweets critical of the government and years in prison.

Most recent example: Salma al-Shihab. Sentenced to 34 years in prison just a few weeks ago because she followed activists on Twitter and shared sentences with her manageable 2,500 followers there like: “I reject injustice and support the oppressed.” According to the Saudi public prosecutor’s office, this caused “social and national security” to falter. It is the harshest sentence ever imposed on an activist in the country.

In the café there are card games and laughter until late in the evening. It is one of the now innumerable “com areas” in the country, a place where men and women can hang out together and sit together. And one where homosexuals can also find each other halfway in public. A Saudi in a white Thawb robe, who says he is looking for new male contacts, says on a walk nearby: “Being friends without action is sometimes a bit boring.”

King Salman, the decrepit monarch, derives a large part of his legitimacy from being the “custodian of the two holy places”, i.e. the places sacred to Muslims Mecca and Medina. Sunni Islam, practiced in the puritanical and strictly conservative interpretation of Wahhabism, is the state religion. Homosexuality is “of course” forbidden in Islam, says a devout father of four over tea and dates one afternoon. Anyone who has sex with someone of the same sex is considered “crazy” and “sick”.

“Our religion rules our country,” agrees Rami, who has now warmed himself up. Many men now lead a “hard life” because they have decided to cross forbidden borders. Rami also describes himself as a believer. But in the end, people are judged by their “inner heart”. “How I treat my mother, my father, the poor. Those are the few things that really count.”

Perhaps the clearest sign of change are the bearded religious police officers who are slowly disappearing from public space. The Committee for the Promotion of Virtue and the Avoidance of Vice, as the agency is officially called, has now lost most of its powers. The “Mutaua” is no longer allowed to arrest, pursue or chase anyone to the mosque. When the call to prayer comes through the loudspeakers today, customers in air-conditioned malls continue to browse Zara or Nike – unthinkable ten years ago, when morality supervisors went on patrol with batons.

Despite all the easing, the country’s leadership seems to want to avert the big liberal dam breach for the time being: alcohol, probably the most popular intoxicant in the world. But with the necessary small change, these actually forbidden goods can also be obtained without contacting Western embassies. A bottle of good vodka, available in German supermarkets for around 10 euros, can cost 30 times as much on the black market, says a connoisseur who wants to remain anonymous for his own protection. Drinks menus in some lounges have long given the impression of a pseudo-alcoholic society that is simulating real consumption with zero alcohol, so to speak.

The Twilight in Jeddah offers mojitos, sun on the beach and a faux Scotch whiskey – all non-alcoholic. Also “German draft beer” and Chardonnay, marked with the addition “0.0”. “Saudi champagne” is also ordered for brunch in restaurants in Riyadh, a sparkling fruit punch made from apple and lemon juice with mineral water. The Internet has also opened the floodgates a little further when it comes to alcohol, which in other countries is the social glue across age groups and classes. In forums and on YouTube, expats exchange recipes to make schnapps or wine in plastic canisters at home. Main ingredients: grape juice, sugar, yeast and some patience. In more analogue times, “The Blue Flame” made the rounds, a pamphlet on alcohol distilling.

A wealthy Saudi from Riyadh’s northwest has its own sources. She fills her red wine – with ice cubes – for going out. “Jesus blood,” she says on the way to an art exhibition – and offers a sip from the drinking bottle. The ice cubes jingle. When she climbs up to the driver in her gold-colored SUV on this evening in July, the city is glowing like an oven, the wine has already made her tipsy.

“I reject injustice and support the oppressed.” According to the Saudi public prosecutor’s office, this caused “social and national security” to falter.