After that hearty dinner, I decided to take some nap. I deserved it after all that I've been through. So armed with my Itouch and easy listening tracks, I was off to dreamland in no time. Six hours on the flight, I woke up from my slumberness due to a really bad turbulence. The aircraft was shaking so bad, I thought it might break into two and crash down (just like what I see in the movies). Bad thoughts. The turbulence lasted for a long 20 minutes before the aircraft eventually calmed down. I lost my sleepiness after that. I played some games on my Itouch just to keep myself entertained for the rest of the flight while the others were able to continue their disturbed sleep just like nothing happened. I envy them pretty much.
After the meal, I was able to catch some sleep again. By the time I woke up, we were already approaching King Khalid International Airport. Everybody was already busy collecting their stored luggages at the overhead bin while others were already queuing in front of the aircraft door. Excited much eh!? I, on the other hand, was just calmly seated and oblivious to everyone's commotion.
Time was 30 minutes past the hour of 1 a.m. That would be 6:00 a.m Philippine time. Countdown of 15 hours spent on my exile. Still, there was more long hours of travel. Riyadh temperature as what we were told was 13 degrees Celsius. I safely disembarked from the aircraft, took a deep breath, sighed and I can't believe the fact that I've already set foot at the Kingdom. So this is it! I'm here now and there's no more turning back. It dawned on me that I'm thousands of miles away from my beloved, love ones, friends and a million of miles apart from my parents. We're literally at the opposite sides of the world! Suddenly, I felt empty, odd and a whole lot awful. How I wish I can turn back the hands of the time in just one click of my finger. The thought that I'll be on my own (no friends, no nothing to count and cling on) in this huge desert for 2 years is making me sick to my stomach. The years seemed like an eternity.
My instincts told me to follow the stream of people heading to one direction. What else but the immigration booth! I fished out my passport and other documents out of my bag and joined in the long line. It was my first time to see a group of Arabs in my whole freakin' life so I felt a little agitated and jittery. We waited for almost 5 minutes before an officer came to his booth and started admitting in OFW's, tourists and locals. I finally had my turn and after verifying my papers, I was told to "kalas!", meaning 'to go' or 'you're done in English. Good thing, this word was taught to us during the PDOS (Pre-departure Orientation Seminar). If it wasn't, I would've just stared at the officer and did nothing.
While I was on my way out, an Arab wearing a white thobe (a dress flowing from the shoulders to the ankles, and later on I found out that this is an everyday Arab man's costume) approached me and asked for my name. I was hesitant to tell him at first but was obliged to do so thinking that he might be my authorized "sundo" for the travel to my accommodation. Indeed, my hunch was right. He then introduced himself as our hospital representative, took my passport, told me to collect my luggage and to come back to him when I'm all done. I couldn't quite understand his English because he talk so fast and sounded so nasal so I asked him to repeat his instructions again for me. He did, this time he was much more understandable. I just gave him a quick nod and hurriedly went to the conveyor belt to claim my stuffs.
I waited at the conveyor belt patiently with eyes all focused and muscles attentive for my luggage. After a while, a lot had been unloaded and taken by their respective owners. To my horror, mine were nowhere to be found. I felt like crying. Almost all passengers had already left the airport and only a few were still waiting. No more bags were dispensed. At the back of my mind, my luggage were already lost and someone might have mistakenly taken it. They all seemed to look alike so it's never a small probability. I didn't give up searching for it. They were still a lot of scattered luggage around so I checked each one. After seemed like searching for an eternity, I found my small Johnny Walker trolley. Good heavens, how i felt relieved! I got one more problem, I haven't found my super big trolley just yet. Again, I felt worried, agitated and tensed. I refused to believe that it was lost, wasn't in transit or was checked in to some other plane. It couldn't and shouldn't be. My whole life was in that luggage! Literally.
I intently kept searching and looking around for it, but to no avail. I was already feeling desperate! Suddenly, I saw this one big black bag lying front down on the floor near the xray machine. I kept praying and hoping that it was mine while I was on my way to check for it. God is indeed good, He answered my fervent plea. It was my bag after all. But how come it was already there lying just beside the xray machine? One careless passenger might have taken it and dumped it right there and then after realizing that it wasn't his. Too bad...tsk tsk!
After securing all my stuffs, I went back to our hospital representative and was instructed that we wait for the others outside. Wheee! I couldn't be more pleased upon hearing this. I have companions traveling to Hafar Al Batin after all. After a few minutes, 3 of my companions, all females, who just had a vacation from the Phils started loading their luggages at the back seat. They helped me with mine too. After a while, 2 more arrived. We were 6 passengers plus the Arab driver and one Filipino representative.
Three hours after, another meal was served. I could never be any happier. It meant more glucose for my near- starving cells. Again, I was asked to choose between a chicken, beef and pasta meal. Guess what I chose? It was the chicken meal again. You might wonder why. I'll tell you. The beef meal according to my seatmate wasn't any better than the chicken meal I had for dinner. The pasta meal on the other hand seemed a pretty good choice but then eliminated it out on my options because I haven't had the chance to eat any Mediterranean pasta meals yet. I might not like the taste or anything of that sort. So I went the safer side.
My chicken meal for breakfast. It consisted of a bread, corn and carrot salad, and a chocolate cake for dessert. |
A closer look of my meal. |
The bread given this time is really tasty even without the butter on it. I would've asked for more if I wasn't too shy enough to approach one of the attendants. |
The chicken slices paired with rice. Our staple food! I was just too glad to have chosen this meal over the two. |
After the meal, I was able to catch some sleep again. By the time I woke up, we were already approaching King Khalid International Airport. Everybody was already busy collecting their stored luggages at the overhead bin while others were already queuing in front of the aircraft door. Excited much eh!? I, on the other hand, was just calmly seated and oblivious to everyone's commotion.
Time was 30 minutes past the hour of 1 a.m. That would be 6:00 a.m Philippine time. Countdown of 15 hours spent on my exile. Still, there was more long hours of travel. Riyadh temperature as what we were told was 13 degrees Celsius. I safely disembarked from the aircraft, took a deep breath, sighed and I can't believe the fact that I've already set foot at the Kingdom. So this is it! I'm here now and there's no more turning back. It dawned on me that I'm thousands of miles away from my beloved, love ones, friends and a million of miles apart from my parents. We're literally at the opposite sides of the world! Suddenly, I felt empty, odd and a whole lot awful. How I wish I can turn back the hands of the time in just one click of my finger. The thought that I'll be on my own (no friends, no nothing to count and cling on) in this huge desert for 2 years is making me sick to my stomach. The years seemed like an eternity.
My instincts told me to follow the stream of people heading to one direction. What else but the immigration booth! I fished out my passport and other documents out of my bag and joined in the long line. It was my first time to see a group of Arabs in my whole freakin' life so I felt a little agitated and jittery. We waited for almost 5 minutes before an officer came to his booth and started admitting in OFW's, tourists and locals. I finally had my turn and after verifying my papers, I was told to "kalas!", meaning 'to go' or 'you're done in English. Good thing, this word was taught to us during the PDOS (Pre-departure Orientation Seminar). If it wasn't, I would've just stared at the officer and did nothing.
While I was on my way out, an Arab wearing a white thobe (a dress flowing from the shoulders to the ankles, and later on I found out that this is an everyday Arab man's costume) approached me and asked for my name. I was hesitant to tell him at first but was obliged to do so thinking that he might be my authorized "sundo" for the travel to my accommodation. Indeed, my hunch was right. He then introduced himself as our hospital representative, took my passport, told me to collect my luggage and to come back to him when I'm all done. I couldn't quite understand his English because he talk so fast and sounded so nasal so I asked him to repeat his instructions again for me. He did, this time he was much more understandable. I just gave him a quick nod and hurriedly went to the conveyor belt to claim my stuffs.
I waited at the conveyor belt patiently with eyes all focused and muscles attentive for my luggage. After a while, a lot had been unloaded and taken by their respective owners. To my horror, mine were nowhere to be found. I felt like crying. Almost all passengers had already left the airport and only a few were still waiting. No more bags were dispensed. At the back of my mind, my luggage were already lost and someone might have mistakenly taken it. They all seemed to look alike so it's never a small probability. I didn't give up searching for it. They were still a lot of scattered luggage around so I checked each one. After seemed like searching for an eternity, I found my small Johnny Walker trolley. Good heavens, how i felt relieved! I got one more problem, I haven't found my super big trolley just yet. Again, I felt worried, agitated and tensed. I refused to believe that it was lost, wasn't in transit or was checked in to some other plane. It couldn't and shouldn't be. My whole life was in that luggage! Literally.
I intently kept searching and looking around for it, but to no avail. I was already feeling desperate! Suddenly, I saw this one big black bag lying front down on the floor near the xray machine. I kept praying and hoping that it was mine while I was on my way to check for it. God is indeed good, He answered my fervent plea. It was my bag after all. But how come it was already there lying just beside the xray machine? One careless passenger might have taken it and dumped it right there and then after realizing that it wasn't his. Too bad...tsk tsk!
After securing all my stuffs, I went back to our hospital representative and was instructed that we wait for the others outside. Wheee! I couldn't be more pleased upon hearing this. I have companions traveling to Hafar Al Batin after all. After a few minutes, 3 of my companions, all females, who just had a vacation from the Phils started loading their luggages at the back seat. They helped me with mine too. After a while, 2 more arrived. We were 6 passengers plus the Arab driver and one Filipino representative.