A for Airport

Smell that? That’s the scent of anxiety coming from all these people waiting for their flights to be called. Okay, maybe it’s just me. You can’t blame me – in a few hours I’ll be touching down on my home base in the Philippines after exactly 2 years, 2 months and 24 days of working here in Riyadh. I’ve always loved airports. When I’m in one, I can always sense the feel of adventure that comes with the standing in line, checking in, getting a boarding pass, having the passport stamped, and waiting for the airline’s call for boarding. Perhaps, the only thing I don’t like, because of the slight inconvenience, is having to do the pseudo-striptease every time I go through the x-ray machines where it is required to take off your watch, belt, jacket, or any other article of clothing with metals on them, in addition to surrendering your mobile phones, cameras, and the like. We’re flying economy, and therefore, do not have the privilege of lounging in the.. well, lounges, and as I scan the waiting area full of thobe-clad Arab men, women in abayas, and the mass of iPhones, iPads, Samsung Galaxys, Motorola Xooms, Macbooks, multi-branded laptops and other electronic devices relative to them, on the hands of the men and women in business-looking attires (this is a Dubai-bound flight after all), I am overwhelmed with feelings of excitement, and yes, I admit anxiety. Not because I’m waiting for our flight number to be called, but because I might be arriving home at a slightly wrong timing. I have been informed by my mother that they are currently experiencing typhoon signal # 2 back home, and might not be able to make it to Manila in time for the surprise summer getaway I planned for them.

“Please Lord, let everything happen as I planned. I already paid for those non-rebookable, non-refundable tickets. Please. :)”

I’m listening to this to keep me a bit distracted:

Well, I’ll leave you to it. See you in Manila.

I got the feet for a new feat

This page has been hibernating for two months. I have a handful of valid excuses in mind to justify the neglect (for the lack of a better word) but I feel it will only take so much space. Well, I am up and awake now thanks to the butterflies in my stomach that just won’t be still. I haven’t felt like this since that day I was leaving the Philippines to work in Riyadh. Time really flew. Now I’m all jittery at the thought of going back home after 2 years and 2 months of (too much) sun and sand(storms).

Okay, so I’ve got two weeks from today to prepare all my stuff and make sure that I get everything I need to have everything on my calendar done. It took me about 2 months to plan everything and squeeze in as much as I can in 6 weeks.

See what I mean?!

Those days are colored for a purpose. And most of those days are going to be spent outdoors – walking, swimming, trekking, running, climbing, exploring. So I figured I’ll be needing some special paraphernalia while I do all that. I discovered Vibram FiveFingers thru a friend a few months ago and I thought it was just a perfect fit for my feet. I got the KSO model which, according to the label, is designed for just about anything my feet could feel like doing. Cheers to that!

Now check out my new pair:

    

Saudi’s Day of Rage – a tsunami in the desert?

There are rumors that the authorities implemented a 7:30pm curfew in the eastern provinces of Al Khobar and Dammam. For now, I know no one who can confirm or contradict this hearsay. But apparently, the much talked about 9:30pm curfew here in Riyadh  is not true. It is now  a few minutes before midnight, and I am still at this café - sitting al fresco, ignoring the sandstorm, unaffected by the glaring red and blue lights from the nearby police car, and amusing myself as three police officers interrogate the driver of a white van a few meters away. I can’t blame you, officers..the vehicle does look like something one would use as a runaway car for a kidnap-for-ransom activity – what, with the heavily tinted driver-side windows and painted rear doors and all?

“What time will you be closing today?” I asked one of the café crew.
“2 am, Sir. As usual.” came the prompt reply.

I further asked if they have heard of any curfews and he sheepishly replied he would have been happier with a curfew imposed as it would mean they would be ordered off from work and go home earlier.

As I sip on my mint juice (no need for a caffeine fix today), I can’t help but wonder whether indeed somewhere within various parts of this city, some thobe- and shimagh-clad Saudi activists are busy strategizing their plan to stage a protest; coordinating with other like-minded countrymen all across the Kingdom, pinpointing locations to serve as focal points, organizing tactics on how to avoid being cornered by the police and.. umm, designing placards and banners? I don’t know how they do it here, or if they ever will, because the closest I have ever been to witnessing such an activity was within the walls of a friend’s home in front of a wide flat screen TV. Suddenly, I had a mental image of huddled men in white, fists clenched and raised above their heads, shouting chants familiar to my ears yet remaining undecoded by my mediocre Arabic-to-English translation skills.

It is past midnight now and my watch says it’s 12:27. Today is March 11th, the rumored Day of Rage, when Saudis are supposedly expected to take on the streets to publicly and openly demand for various changes from the ruling monarchy and government. Having lived here for only 2 years, a relatively short time to judge whether or not the Saudis have it in them to go against the norms of their very conservative and regulated society, there’s a bigger part of me that feels confident that the Kingdom will not follow their neighboring countries in terms of violence in their protests. But then again, who am I to say? Still, I refuse to feel fear for my life the way other Filipinos (and other expats) felt when they had to leave their homes and work places because their host countries had social unrest and became politically unstable. There’s still reason to believe that the Saudi people, peace-loving as they claim to be and full of efforts to prove that they are falsely stereotyped in many ways, will stage their demonstrations diplomatically, should they ever decide to push through with this. On the other hand, having observed the streets to be oddly  less rowdy since this morning considering it’s a weekend, makes me feel like I’m about to witness the onslaught of a powerful tsunami; the way the waters suddenly turn quiet as the giant wave builds up strength so it can later on wash over the shores with as much rage it can muster. I try to ward off any thoughts of its implications to foreigners like me.

In a few hours, I should be able to answer some questions currently bothering me: Will the protests push through? Will the success or failure of today’s expected protests determine whether or not the so-called March 20 Saudi Revolution would take place? Am I to believe the media’s take on this issue compared to what I can see and hear first-hand? Do I need to head off to the nearest 24-hour grocery store to fill our shelves with food and supplies like what I have been told or is it a ridiculously exaggerated thing to do? Should I start packing my bags in the anticipation of being sent home?

For the first time in days, I feel exhausted and droopy. Every time I open my eyes from sleep, what happens within the day is usually decided only by whether it’s a work day or a weekend. It’s not everyday that I wonder what this city has for me when I wake up. Today will be one of those days.

Riyadh dusts off winter, shows signs of early summer

I was merely a 10 day-old newbie in Riyadh when the desert city sampled us with this:

The above footage reminds me of the scene from the Brendan Fraser and Rachelle Weisz mummy movie where a sandstorm with Imhotep's face pursued a plane. Some people say this one on the 10th of March 2009 is one of the worst of its kind. It's quite cinematic how the Faisaliah Tower went out of sight as it got engulfed with fine sand. If this was how it looked like from above, it was a worse situation down on the streets where vehicles were forced to either stop or move at a speed way slower than the Riyadh drivers are accustomed to (if you've had the chance to drive on the city streets, you'll know what I mean).

This morning, when I stepped out and found a lightly dusted sky and felt my nose uncomfortably twitching, I knew what I was in for. I'm just thankful that at least the visibility is better than the previous days and it's nowhere near what we had 2 years ago. Sandstorms are usually an indication that the climate is changing. So I guess it's time to raid the closet and change wardrobes.

This is King Abdullah Road today on our way to the office.

   

Random bouts of nostalgia

My body clock recognized its cue; the unmistakable chatter of the Pakistani and Indian employees of a nearby bakery and the sound of service van engines revving up for its early morning drive meant it was past 3am, which also means I ought to be sleeping soon. This isn’t the first time this happened. Once again, they are already up while I, on the other hand, am still up.

I started tossing papers, booklets and other official-looking documents (stuff I was rummaging through) into a box and then, look at what I found:

     

I sort of bolted awake from my groggy-looking self as nostalgic thoughts washed over me. Had it really been three years??! It seemed only a few pushes of the rewind button and I should be back to my recruiting and writing days with this team.

Five months is a relatively short time to get to know people well, but then again, there are people I’ve known for more than ten years and they still manage to surprise me sometimes. So don’t jump at me if I try to claim that I feel like I’ve known these people for a long while. Blame it on the mostly happy memories I’ve had with them. This team fished me out of my comfort zone of being a call center employee to actually handling responsibilities that I loved and challenged me more. I still remember that day I woke up seeing a few missed calls from an unregistered number and upon dialing back, found out that it was from a software company? At that time, all I said to myself was “What could a software company possibly want with me?”. I was nowhere near being a computer whiz. All my questions were answered when I came for an interview and eventually accepted a job offer. And the rest would be half year’s worth of daily chronicles of HR fun, stress, and other exploits.

I am hopeful, that once my vacation details aren’t as unpredictable as the weather here in Riyadh, I’d be able to fly home and check one of the boxes on my to-do list while I’m there:  Meet-up with Lawson HR team!