my flight back home was scheduled on the first day of ramadan. in wikipedia, i read a good definition of the word ramadan as the name of the ninth month; the word itself is derived from an arabic word for intense heat, scorched ground, and shortness of rations.
the first day of september was humid and when i was on my way to our base camp in khobar, the air conditioner of the land cruiser that i was riding with just suddenly did not work. so, for the last seven hours of travel i was literally sweating like a pig. i did opened the window, but the atmosphere itself was comparable as if you’re inside a turkish steam bath.
we made it at daylight in our base camp, by midday the personnel department informed us that we will not be able to make it for the flight for that day for there were problems with our exit visas. which meant i lost a day in my short vacation, so i just went with other filipinos to khobar town and did some shopping rather than to fret about it.
we went to a place in khobar they call as the ‘filipino mall’. they called it that way for 75% of the people visiting that mall were filipinos, funny thing is even the saudi’s and indians who sell their stuff knows how to speak filipino. i was able to buy myself some cheap good quality running shoes and presents for my siblings and my friends.
the next day, i got my passport with exit visa and my flight ticket. it took us about an hour and a half to reach bahrain airport and about nine hours by plane to manila.
as of now while typing this post, i am in my old small room i share with my youngest brother. it’s very different here, i’m just so glad to be home.
welcome back!
thanks, max.