#travelpiece

[ioglassart]

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[ioglassart]

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available through @headyculture , io star infinity micro pocket piece! music by too many zooz #ioglass #iostar #infinitymicro #infinity #infinite #10mm #ripcurl #ripcurlredesign #originaldesign #oilengineer #oilcatch #pocketrig #edc #edc710 #hashtaghomelessman #dabs #dabsonthego #travelpiece #toomanyzooz

[ioglassart]

badass infinity micro pocket piece! this one is available through @headyculture! #infinitymicro #infinity #infinite #10mm #ripcurl #ripcurlredesign #originaldesign #oilengineer #oilcatch #pocketrig #edc #edc710 #hashtaghomelessman #dabs #dabsonthego #travelpiece #toomanyzooz

[ioglassart]

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another badass infinity micro pocket piece! this one is claimed, but you can get your own! #infinitymicro #infinity #infinite #10mm #ripcurl #ripcurlredesign #originaldesign #oilengineer #oilcatch #pocketrig #edc #edc710 #hashtaghomelessman #dabs #dabsonthego #travelpiece #toomanyzooz #fws

[cynicallycheerful]

Sandy Wonderland

Monday, 2 May 2011

I glanced away from the window and back at the glowing screen in front of me. It seemed that it is only a matter of minutes before this aerial vehicle makes contact with the ground. My trusty backpack lay stoically on the empty seat beside me. Unsurprisingly, as I returned my gaze to the window by my side,  the glaring darkness and void that I have been seeing for the past few hours has been replaced by a bird’s-eye view of bright city lights and the oh so familiar layout of this beautiful country. The feeling of elation and excitement surged immediately through my veins at the sight; once again, I have come home. I did a quick frisk on myself to check my belongings, all the while never taking my eyes off the wonderful sight.

The first thing I did just after coming out of the plane was to take a breath; a really big inhalation of the foreign air, as a kiss of greeting to the new atmosphere. As expected, warm air met my nostrils, the kind that can be compared to a hairdryer in terms of temperature. It even had that tang of sandiness with it, just enough to make my nose itch a wee bit. Oh Arabia, how I’ve missed you. It has been nearly a year since I stood on the soil I have lived and studied in for more than five years. Are your streets still as immaculate as I remembered them to be? Are your food servings still as big and cheap as in the past? I’ve got a couple of inquiries hanging in the air.  Better get moving and do a little catching up.

Now it was my ears’ turn for a treat (although by other people’s standards, this would never be even mistaken for a treat). As I presented my passport to the immigration officer for inspection, I caught a snatch from a conversation of pure, unadulterated Arabic. Arabic, that hard- and fast-sounding language that I never managed (the word is actually “bothered”) to master for five years, is now making its way again inside my skull. Even though the only verbal reaction I could have given is ana mafi malom Arabi (I don’t know Arabic), the effect on me was as if the immigration officer suddenly told me that I won a million riyals. It’s funny how a Filipino conversation back in the Philippines never really had that effect on me. Still grinning inanely, I made my way to the oval conveyor belt to gather up my stuff.

As I clambered to my default seat in the family vehicle, I remembered back then the olden days where I used to sit here, thinking about my home country, the Philippines. Imagine me now, thinking of the country I was currently occupying a space of. The irony of it compelled me to grin a bit wider. 

While we travelled along the Kingdom’s dusty roads, I vaguely recalled the inquiries of an acquaintance about Saudi Arabia. Judging from his questions and reactions to my answers, his idea of the Kingdom was a vast expanse of desert with very little civilization and even littler amount of technology. Coincidentally, my response to his idea was the same as what I did in relative real time; I gave a chuckle of amusement. 

Think of a cleaner, wider and neater Philippines without the multiple tall protrusions of Makati, then throw in patches of desert the size of soccer fields; that’s one way to roughly describe the Kingdom. Ever see a vehicle standstill in EDSA? That never happens in here; the roads are wide enough for a car to execute a flawless U-turn within the same road. Heck, crossing the roads there are much deadlier since the other side is farther, and the cars never seem to stay stationary for longer than the duration of the red light. Very few would try that stunt worthy of Jackie Chan; most would simply go for the wooden overpasses (yes, wooden, so to make it as cool as reality allows) tactically planted at key points. Testament to the speedy traffic and clear road is our own van travelling smoothly to grab some chow.

I gave my surroundings a passing glance before sinking my teeth into my Big Mac (never really liked the McArabia, which is basically a buffed-up shawarma). The Mcdonald’s we usually ate in was getting a bit more crowded than before. The family section of the establishment seemed to be noisier than I last remembered it to be. By contrast, the men’s section sounded quieter than usual.

All countries can’t be perfect, I thought. I just witnessed again this ridiculous imposition of segregating the genders. Come downstairs to the men’s section and you’ll see a small population dressed in white thoubs(men’s Arabic garment) and the occasional casual wear. Come upstairs to the family section and you’ll see the thoub population thinned out and mixed up with a greater number of black abayas (female counterpart of the thoub). Up until now, I still cannot fathom what they are trying to accomplish with that division. Oh well, it’s marginally better to be in the family section anyway (or at least, I prefer to think).

That’s one of the bad I had become used to in exchange for the enormous amount of good.

Home at last. I had finally stepped again on that old doormat on our doorstep. Without further ceremony, I grabbed the last of my bags and began to dump them in my room. I grabbed my old shirt-and-short combo from my old cabinet. Switching on my gadgets, I adjusted them to the current time zone. As a final act of endearment, I opened my window to let in the warm evening air and a terribly missed sight of the empty sand field beside the supermarket.

Good night Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. We still have a lot of catching up to do on the morrow.

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*This was my travel piece for my CW10 class in my second year. Yes, I love KSA immensely.*