Early Lessons

There are some changes I never expected to happen. We have to use skin moisturizers so that our skin won’t dry up like raisins with the omnipresent dust, etc. I haven’t even bothered using lotion before, and now I’m frantic to get the lotion on every morning before I leave for work!

I also used to be uncaring as to facial hair – but I did shave whenever possible. Now, I’m just shaving to regulate the growth of my beard, which I am growing in earnest. Arab males in general and Saudis in particular just have this thing for Filipino men, and even the best of Western education does not remove this cultural inborn repression. Muslim households over here must be really hard on the men. One Egyptian is trying to pick me up, for crying out loud! It reminds me of that odd feeling when I was the last customer in a cramped beauty salon and all the gay friends of the hairdresser arrived. I was the only straight man in the joint and there were nine of them – now I understand why most women don’t want to be ogled. Hehe – homophobia everywhere and now it creeps onto me.

I’ll try to be enlightened, but nevertheless, I shouldn’t “drop the soap.” Can you visualize those prison movies – shower scenes, etc.? It was a joke we came up with the night we celebrated my leaving. I gave the Egyptian the cold shoulder so maybe he won’t bother me anymore. Over the past few days, it seems to have worked (nyuk, expecting the visitor! Bwahahahahaha!). I guess like me, the pace of work is picking up for him.

I weighed myself just a few days ago and I am down to 100kg from 107kg arrival weight. That’s about 15lbs since I arrived (yehey---I think). I'm not entertaining any guilt feelings about eating, though I hardly go beyond my food budget allocation of SR20/day. It will be a good thing to remember since I have already acquired a refrigerator and will proceed to eat my way into, and then out of, it and my pantry.

I miss pork. Time was when I was still vegetarian and recovering from the condition that hospitalized me when we were eating at Leslie’s in Tagaytay and one of my best friends offered me a piece of liempo – literally daring me to eat the liempo at first and then putting our friendship on the line if I didn’t eat it (“kung talagang kaibigan mo ako, kakainin mo ang liempo na ito") – with all due apologies, I had to turn him down that time. Now I’m just making up for lost time, because pork is banned here!

Wake-up is at 5:00am though sometimes if I get to a bad patch I get awakened by Fajr-Salat (fa-jir sa’-la) or the dawn prayer, which by now starts at 3:15am. The mosque is just across the street so I have a front-row seat. I don’t mind at all, there is a semi-metaphysical quality to the experience of trying to ignore the prayer and trying to remember one’s own. At least the mosque affords a view instead of the cheap boxes they have for architecture here. I try my best to leave by 6:30am to make the most of the cooler morning hours and of course to avoid some traffic. Lots easier also to get a ride on the two-riyal specials which I share with four to five other passengers. If you can’t get on a two-riyal special, riding cabs would cost me at least SR15 (P225), which is too expensive, or more.

As I mentioned earlier, eating is less of a problem than it should have been, or as I expected. After all, I can cook my own food or buy Filipino food. I’ve tried the kabsa, which is just roast chicken on rice, but it's a generous helping of cholesterol since some versions use the oil that dripped during cooking or ghee (the Indian butter) liberally. Shawarma, also very good. Filafil (or Falafel), which is just the Saudi version of a burrito, also good. If you'll buy a burger, don’t buy the local burgers outside of the fastfood shops, the spices aren’t very good for you. There was one time I tried Indian food at the company cafeteria (because they ran out of Filipino food!). Very tasty, but very high on cholesterol. I must have had two days to get over the uric acid buildup in my ankles. And besides, I believe in the saying: you are what you eat. Eat more of the stinky stuff and you'll soon start smelling like it.

I'm not being unkind, but sometimes the Saudis, Arabs, and Muslim South Asians really stink. . . They just do, regardless of my opinion. During prayer time, ceremony dictates washing of hands and feet. Problem is, some of them wash their feet with their socks on. And then they put their footgear back on after prayer. However, some people spend a fortune on perfume, and some women can be smelled twenty feet away.

As to smells, there goes a story (of a lovely lady, ehem, joke) about this Keralese (Indian) receptionist hired by my boss when he worked for Jarir Bookstore, the largest book retailer in the country. His CV picture showcased his moviestar-like looks, so definitely there were plus points for him. On the phone interview the applicant's English was almost accentless. In short, he was hired. When he arrived in KSA, he smelled like a dead rat. My boss' Arab boss said, “Elmore, I know you hired that guy. But you have to tell him to do something about the way he stinks!” (Pity these people especially if you are riding with the guy in a crowded elevator). So Elmore tells him, bluntly but gently that he should take a bath every day. First day, o.k. Second day, o.k. Third day, late in the day, no good. Fourth day, the effect was over by mid-morning. Again Elmore takes note and says, “This time, you must also wash your clothes regularly.” First day, o.k. Second day, o.k. Third day, the stink was still there. The effect was so alarming that the boss says to Elmore: “If you don’t fix it, I will not only fire him, I will fire you, too.” By this time the poor employee is so self-conscious he did a combination of the following: first, when going to the office, he went together with the manual laborers to mask his smell. After which, he brought a change of clothes. Later on, the guy literally sprayed himself with air freshener to cloak his odor --- all to no avail. So Elmore takes pity on him and decides to take him to a doctor. It turns out he had an hormonal imbalance, and to top it all off, he had a bad case of nerves similar to stage fright. A few pills and finally the guy gets his B.O. under control within a week. At least there was a happy ending.

In the meantime, don’t praise an Indian or a Saudi on what he is wearing. For sure he will wear the darned thing for the entire week until it positively wears out. Meantime, everyone suffers.

I miss sports on TV since there was a service for the NBA (Star Sports) when I was at camp, but no access since I moved out. I can do without the games for the meantime, I can always read the recaps from the Internet. TFC will do for the moment even if Filipino network television sucks until I can get to buy a Playstation 2. I figure I can save more money that way – no need for satellite hook-up, etc. It also doubles as a DVD player. But let's see.

Two Wednesdays ago my boss sponsored a cook-out at his place. He lives in a modest two-room bungalow (about SR16000/year or about P19,600/month) about eight blocks away from my place or a good fifteen to twenty minute walk. Grills extravaganza - corn, tenderloin, tuna, chicken wings, plus crab and shrimp specially prepared for the occasion. Yummy! My boss didn't offer alcohol, though he had some for the others who were there. I drank some brewed Robusta coffee (which settled down my stomach, finally) and we all said our goodbyes by 11:30pm. The coffee, by the way, kept me up until 4:00am and I had to force myself to sleep otherwise I wouldn’t be able to get up early next day and have a headstart in the remittance center (despite all one’s preparations, no one can be prepared for Arabic inefficiency or rudeness when it comes to queues). I met a Filipino couple who wanted to offer another place – SR12,000 but two rooms only in a brand-new apartment building about five blocks south plus another eight blocks east from my place. O.k. but I don’t think it will be good for me to stay all on my own – and even if I share with another person that’s still SR500 per month. There are cheaper (but less convenient and smaller) apartments elsewhere. Besides, I’ve grown comfortable and moving is a real bitch of a thing here. Labor costs can kill you. Imagine – I had to pay a plumber P1500 for a P300 job over here to install my washing machine properly! At least the darn thing is automatic – open the water supply, slosh in the detergent, and during the rinse cycle put in the fabric softener, and then tada!