Hi to all wandering feet of the cyberworld! You have just added a little life to my blog. This is basically my journal of my travels and where I am currently located - Abu Dhabi. You will find my detailed journey of gaining my documents to finally landing myself inside this cold room my husband and I call home. Feel free to drop some of your pov's too.

Saturday, July 17, 2010

24 hours before another chapter of my life


Twenty-four hours ago, I was living the life of an unemployed but very pampered OFW wife – still living with parents and no kids yet.  I woke up at 8 a.m., my usual waking time for the last 2 months.  Alarm beeps, phone calls or early buzz didn’t do anything to disturb my deep slumber.  This is heaven until one small phone call changed everything on this fateful Thursday.
8:00 am: Yawned. Stretched and enjoyed the feel of an over-laundered bed sheet.  It almost felt like it is a 400 thread Egyptian cotton bed sheet. Sigh.  I stared at the ceiling which definitely needs major scrubbing and repainting.  Better tell my Tatay about it.  Sigh.  Yawned.  Thank God for another lazy day.
8:10 am:  Trudge my way to the fridge to grab the milk carton and butter.  Took a healthy swig from the carton knowing my Nanay was nowhere around to scold me. Wink. Wink.  I placed the pandesal inside the toaster.  Sat on the lazyboy and flipped on the TV’s remote control and started channel surfing.  Uh-oh.  I’m a bit late for my “Friends” session.  Reruns are perfect breakfast buddies.
9:00 am:  Closing credits is almost done.  Time to switch channel.  Oh good, Star Movies is showing a good teeny bopper movie.  I shifted and repositioned myself in the lazyboy while the movie starts.
9:03 am:  Need to water my plants!!  Despite the rain last night my horse tail plants still look dehydrated.  Does this mean they’re dying?  My Nanay said plants could die from over watering them.  Is it possible to kill a plant by drowning? Hmmm.
9:05 am: Movie time.
10:45 am:  Better call the post office.  My husband would go berserk if I don’t check the local post.  You see, I’m bound to join my husband since I’ve resigned from my last job and we have been blocked by too many technical issues all over the world just to have that darn visa.  Anyway, I’ve been doing a daily check on our local post since the online tracking message appeared delivered to recipient. 
11:00 am: wheeeee!! My visa arrived. Unfortunately it is still with the local post. However the lady who answered the phone said it is already queued for delivery in the afternoon.  So I can just wait for the package to arrive. Whoa! So this means I need to get everything prepared to fly to Manila the following day.
11:15 am:  I was so panic-stricken that I was immobilized for the whole 15 minutes. So, I called my husband about the news and he advised me to get a plane ticket immediately for Abu Dhabi. Then called up my parents to tell them I need my Davao-Manila ticket rebooked.  Next I called my sister who lives in Manila and asked her what she needs from Davao.  And lastly, I called my brother to ask him to go home ASAP we have some major cooking to be done.  I rushed to the nearest grocery to buy the needed ingredients.  Oh by the way, I didn’t bother taking a bath.  Who would notice? Right?
12:30 pm: I have already started preparing the ingredients for vanilla pudding and Anglio Olio.  Adobo is already simmering in the stove.  No need to fuss over it.  Next check all my clothes for the big trip, which means everything in my closet: all my bags, my clothes, all my shoes and every bric-a-brac that I own.  How to put them all inside one travelling bag? Urg!
1:30 pm:  My anxious self is already taking control of my senses thus made me call the local post again.  Still the same information.  The postman has already left and my package is with him already.  I can call back at around 3:30 to check if my package won’t be delivered within the day.
3:35 pm: Vanilla pudding done to perfection.  Butter cookies are being molded and baked another 3 dozens to go.  I called the post office again.  The postman has not yet returned to the office.  I better call back around 4:30 to check.  Hmpf!  Those people in the post office stink!  I’m beginning to get worried and I might not get the visa on time and I have already booked my international flight. What to do? What to do?
4:30 pm:  I decided to be punctual in calling them back because I’m losing my patience already.  And yes, to my dismay, I was informed that the postman took the afternoon off. Meaning he was not around while I was biting my fingernails waiting for him to arrive. Arrgggh!! And so I told them I need to get that visa immediately.  The “nice” ladies in the post office chastised me for not calling them sooner. Egad!! I told her that I was calling on the time I was told to do so and was given misinformation.  So I told them I’d personally pick the visa myself.  She told me it iss almost 5:00 pm and they need to leave around that time.  As much as I hate the whole situation and after all the trouble I have gone through – cooking, baking and getting expensive international tickets – I resorted to yes…lowest of all lowest..begging the “nice” lady to wait for me.
5:30 pm: after 15 minutes of cruel insinuations. I am finally holding my visa. I rushed to the mall and paid all my bills before I leave the country. 
6:30 pm: Continued baking.  Need to bake tons of batches. My sister loves my cookies. What can I say?  Told my brother about my ordeal with the local post office.
7:30 pm:  Waited for the buyer of my desktop. I’m getting rid of most of my stuff.
8:00 pm:  Transaction done.  6 year old desktop – sold!
8:30 pm: Relayed the whole “post office moment” with my parents.
9:00 pm:  The same topic as above with my sister online.
11:30 pm: Sad to say, the same topic was discussed with husband online.  I exhausted all my energy to rant about the people in that darn office.  I feel so harassed.  So, to sooth my bruised ego and tired body my husband promised a Starbucks when I arrive in Abu Dhabi.
2:00 am:  Can’t doze off.  Is this it?  Will this be the last time I’ll be staring up at my grubby ceiling?  Last time to rub my feet into my pseudo Egyptian bed sheet?  Oh the sheer gravity of the situation has not sink in until this hour? Why oh why? I have the first flight to take, which means I have 3 more hours of sleep before another barrage of activities.
3:30 am:  huh? What time is it? Egad!! Please let me sleep…
5:30 am: is it morning already? Too soon.  Can I not take a shower? Arggg….my head is pounding.
7:00 am:  At the airport with a growling stomach.  Hunnnngggrrrryyyy.
7:15 am:  Flight is full.  We have to wait for the next flight. Hmp! Where can I get some sleep?
7:52 am: huff! Huff! Panting from running. My brother and I were able to get two seats. Wahu! My parents will take the next flight.
8:00 am: Airplane taxied and ready to take off. And I’m off to my next adventure. 
Friday afternoon, while a heavy downpour was drowning Manila, my heart was bursting with so much sadness as I kissed a thousand times my niece and my sister, I hugged my brother so tight like I could not let go despite the honking of other drivers behind us.  I kissed my niece again.  I was chocking from holding back my sobs.  My in-laws were at the airport to send me off too.  At last at the door of the Ninoy International Airport, my Tatay hugged me and whispered we love you Langga you take care.  That’s when my tears embarrassingly came out. So many people were sending off their family but I was so grief stricken I was not able to hold back my tears.  And lastly it was my Nanay’s turn to kiss me, I was crying so hard, I was not able to say anything to her. We just kissed and hugged.  I don’t want to let her go. I was holding her tightly till the guard told me to get moving. I kissed her and told her to “stop eating fatty food.” Instead of “I love you”.  But I know that she knows that it meant I love her so much.  Checked and boarded, I sat at seat number 24G of Etihad Airways, I can’t stop from tearing up once in a while then I got tired and closed my eyes.  Make way for anther adventure to the land of Zaby.

No comments:

Post a Comment