Part 10

One more office day is before me. Feeding excel tables all day. What may sound boring, is in fact not. I listen to music all day, people come and go, I can have my breaks, etc. In one of the breaks I take my cup of tea and go outside to explore the grounds of the polytechnic. During my walk around, many students come and talk to me and want to be photographed with me. They take out all their BlackBerries and iPhones and start taking pictures. Once me alone, once with them, and always in different poses.

My Egyptian colleague calls the airport in Ha’il to ask for my luggage, but no one is answering the phone. That’s why we decide to drive to Ar’ar airport after our lunch and knock on the Pakistani’s door. Said and done. We reach the airport within a few minutes and see that it is shut. We look at each other and wonder, since when do airports shut? The security man on duty tells us that it opens only when there are flights. In between the airport shuts and everybody goes home. We should try again. But he doesn’t tell us the opening times. That’s why we try our luck with the internet and find the flight times there. We estimate the opening times according to the data found. We’ll try it again in the afternoon or evening when there are flight movements.

The ride with the old Nissan bus is again a pleasure. The sun is shining, the colleagues are quiet, one has even fallen asleep. The mobile phone of my Egyptian colleague reminds us that it’s prayer time. There’s an app for smart phones to remind you about all prayer times of the day. Because the days get either longer or shorter, the prayer times change too and the app adjusts to the new times every day and tells you always the correct time. If you change location, you can set the app to the new location, if it doesn’t automatically adjust. Every location has different prayer times. This is, because the sun doesn’t rise everywhere at the same time. Many of these applications have also an integrated compass, so that the believer knows in which direction Mecca lies. With the overview of all prayer times of the day you always know when the shops open and close. During the prayer time you listen to the singing of an Imam. You can choose the mosque you’d like to listen to. My colleague has set it to Mecca. So he and we listen to the Imam of Mecca at every prayer time.

The ride itself has something exotic to me. To the ride come the voice and the singing of the Imam that lets me waft away into a different world. It is like in a fairy tale, like in a film. And as we bump over a dusty road, the fairy tale of 1001 nights seems to be coming true.

One of my Pakistani colleagues and I have to go to the polytechnic in the afternoon. The big boss of Ma’aden (the company that finances this project) is to pay a visit and there will be a celebration to honour his visit. The management will be there, a few students too, also the University of Missouri guys, my colleague and I. Mohammed our driver comes to pick us up. Because it’s only us, we don’t take the old Nissan bus, but we drive in his private car. A 6-litre GMC-SUV. That thing is as big as an apartment. You need a ladder to climb in and someone pushing you from behind in order not to fall down due to its height. Inside the SUV you feel really well. The leather seats are extremely comfortable and you can enjoy legroom as in the business class of an airplane and the suspension is top notch. As soon as we leave Mohammed opens the glove compartment and points to a wide range of perfumes. Then he opens the compartment in the centre console and offers us even more perfume. The Arabs, I know this from my Arab neighbour back home, are mad about perfumes. He takes different bottles and sprays all the perfume on us. Suddenly the whole car smells and I feel like being in a perfume shop.  

As soon as we arrive, we go over to the main building where a few from the management are already waiting. We are then asked to form a row. First a few people from the management, then the Missouri guys, then my colleague and I and then a few students. A few minutes later a car drives through the entrance and around the fountain and stops in front of the row we just formed. A few people get off the car a start walking along the path. We introduce each other and shake hands. As the entourage arrives at my colleague and me, we shake hands and introduce ourselves, but they seem to stay a little longer and inhale all the scents and smile at us particularly friendly. The same thing happens a few more times because more cars arrive and more hands are shaken.

All those people are guided through the grounds of the polytechnic, before we go into the large auditorium for the celebration. There we are, sitting in the second row in the big hall. In front of us is the management seated, in the second row are the Missouri guys, my colleague and me and behind us hundred or so students.

Then follow some emotional speeches. At some point I get dizzy from the atmosphere in there and from all the perfumes on me. My eyes become red and my contact lenses start to ache and I can’t sit still on my seat. I pray that the ceremony comes soon to an end and that we’re allowed to go outside to the fresh air. But my prayers are not heard. One after another takes the microphone and holds a painfully long monologue. I take a bottle of natural tears from my pocket and pour that stuff en masse into my eyes. It always helps for a few minutes. When the last of them brings his speech to an end, I’m very close to shout ‘hallelujah’, stand up and run away. But the show isn’t over yet! Oh no! Now the Ma’aden people want to be photographed with the students, because as they said and pointed out earlier on in their speeches, the students are the future of the company.

I thought that only the Greeks were masters at staging perfect shows and selling tales and dreams. Oh how I was wrong! The Arabs are also masters in this discipline!

When it’s finally over, I rush out into the cool air and try to revive myself. Some students are worried and follow me out. I feel well again after a few minutes.

Then we go to the cafeteria for dinner. Today the cafeteria is especially decorated and festive and even the food tastes better.

After that, Mohammed comes with his 6-litre GMC-SUV-Apartment-thingy and drives us home. My Egyptian colleague is already waiting for me and has news. He says that he reached somebody at Ha’il airport and that that person assured him, my bag will be in Ar’ar at 6 in the morning. Really? How is that possible? The first flight that reaches Ar’ar arrives at 7.30am. How can my bag be here at 6am? My colleague says that he asked the official in Ha’il the very same question, but he insisted that my bag will be here at 6am. I somehow don’t like to believe this and ask my colleague if he wants and has time to drive to Ha’il with me to pick up my luggage if it doesn’t arrive in the morning.

Then I go for a long shower to get rid of the perfume smell.

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