Part 6

On the other side of the controls, I find myself in a roundish hall with a fountain in the middle, some plants and flowers, palms included, soft sandy colours, several kiosks where you can buy something to drink and/or eat and all the gates. I sit down on a seat near the gate, place my backpack in front of me and let my eyes gaze. The announcements are made in Arabic and English and I still have two hours until take off. In front of me is hustle and bustle. Many people who go up and down, men, women, children. Most of them are dressed traditionally.

After a few minutes I stand up to see if my flight is already displayed and to go to the loo. I don’t take my backpack with me and leave it on my seat. When I come back from the loo, I notice that someone is sitting behind my seat that coughs a lot and doesn’t look healthy at all. That’s why I take my backpack and sit somewhere else. I place my backpack again in front of me on the floor, take out my mobile phone, lower my head towards the display and browse through the music library. Short time later I notice two men coming and sitting next to me. One left, one right. Suddenly the screen of my BlackBerry disappears and all I can see are two ID cards. Airport security.

I can hear the Austrian singer Falco singing his mega success ‚Jeanny’:  

„Jetzt hör ich sie! Sie kommen!

Sie kommen dich zu holen,
sie werden dich nicht finden,
niemand wird dich finden…“

“Now I hear them! They’re coming!

They’re coming to get you,
They’re not going to find you,
Nobody will find you….”

Accompanied by various dungeon scenes.

Before I can lift my head, the ID cards are gone and one of the two asks me if I speak English. Now I lift my head and turn to the right and to the left and stare in the faces of the two security men.
“Yes, I speak English, “ I say.
“Can we see your passport including visa and boarding pass?” asks one of the two.
I give it to them.
“Is this your backpack?”
“Yes.”
“What’s in it?”
“A laptop, an iPad, tobacco, tissues, pens, …”
“Can we have a look?”
“Sure!”
“What brand is your laptop?”
I say it to them.
“Why did you leave your backpack here alone? Why did you change the seat?”
“I needed to go to the loo and when I returned, I saw that wildly coughing man behind my seat.”
The two security men turn their heads around to see the man coughing and when they turn back to me, one of the two asks:
“Were you not afraid that somebody could steal your backpack?”
“In an airport in Saudi Arabia?” I ask all serious.
The two men smile, give me back my documents and disappear just as quietly as the came.
Sometime later, my flight is called. I have to take the shuttle bus to reach the plane. On the plane, I see that the sexes are again divided, men in front, ladies at rear. However, a woman is sitting on my window seat, next to a man. So I take the aisle seat. Shortly after, as we all have boarded, comes the pilot, looks down at the woman, tells her something in Arabic in a harsh tone, she gets up and goes to the back. The very same pilot looks at me and says in a soft voice: “Welcome aboard! Enjoy the flight!”
“Thank you!”
So I came to my window seat.
Since the flight lasts only 90 minutes, there’s no time to sleep. I take out my iPad and watch a few episodes of ‘The Simpsons’. Is this series allowed or is it on the black list? Hmm….
Shortly before landing it gets bright and the sun rises on the horizon over the desert. Since I have never been in the desert, I find it totally fascinating. The flight to Cairo was disappointing. I fly for the first time in my life to Egypt, am as happy as a little child to finally see the desert, and what do I see? All green! Of course, Cairo is located in the delta. At the bottom end, but still in it.
It is enchantingly beautiful to watch the sun rising over the desert. Those colours are unique! I’m blown away.
As we land in Ar’ar I see a small airport building, directly opposite the plane. Out from the plane, a few steps of walking and into the building. A few minutes later comes the luggage. As I’m watching the luggage moving around, coming and going, a man approaches me from the right and says: “Ma’aden?” Huh! Who are you? What do you want from me? Go away! Away! Away you midget! The man asks again: “Ma’aden?” Hmm… is he really here for me? I look at him quizzically and decide to call Anes, my Philippino. But he’s quicker.
“Hey Anes! Here’s someone from Ma’aden, is that my driver?“
“Maybe. If you’re the only foreigner, then he’s there for you.”
Since I’m not sure, I call Murray, my project manager. It beeps, but he’s not answering. Damn! At this moment I hear his voice coming from the entrance, and in fact, he’s standing there with my Egyptian colleague.
“What are you still doing here? What are you still waiting for? Why aren’t you coming out like all the others? Where is your luggage?” asks Murray.
“Exactly, where is my luggage?” I ask.
The Lost & Found office is located to the left of us and we pay it a visit. A Pakistani man is sitting in there. I’m sure he will help us. As we go inside, hands are first shaken, then we take a seat, then comes the obligatory small talk and after all that is the issue addressed. The Pakistani glances at my boarding pass and immediately sees that my luggage has been flown to Hail instead of Ar’ar. He proceeds immediately into action and after a few minutes he tell me that ‘Inshallah’, my luggage will be here in two days. Sure, God willing. And what if He doesn’t want? The Pakistani shrugs with his shoulders. But somehow I trust him. Not that I will see my stuff in two days, but he that he will help me. Foreigners you can usually trust. They are cunning and don’t always go by the book or by the law. He even gives us his mobile phone number and the number from Hail airport.
When we exit the airport building I see fantastically beautiful surroundings. It’s green everywhere, there are palm trees everywhere, small paths and roads, stones as decoration objects, nice buildings, a small mosque, blue sky and bright sun. “Like in Malibu!” I say. The Egyptian laughs and Murray says only: “Yeah, yeah!”
On the way we Stop at a pharmacy. I need to stock up with the essentials. Again hands are being shaken, the obligatory small talk, questions are being asked and answered, etc. My project manager buys me shampoo, deodorant, contact lens solutions, a comb, etc. The comb doesn’t come alone, a smaller beard comb is included.
Then, they drive me home. I go to bed and they to work.

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