I don't know what's with me. It's either I'm a magnet of sob stories of our kababayans or there's just too many sorry stories around that you don't need to look for it, they'll just come and surprise you. I realized this during my travel to Bahrain today.

I just arrived from Bahrain. I've no photos for my travel, but I've lots of stories to tell. Sorry, sob stories to tell.

On my flight to Bahrain, I met one kabayan who came to Saudi Arabia to work only to be denied entry at the Saudi Immigration in Riyadh. Reason: he had a fight with a fellow kabayan last year who lodged a case against him with the police authorities. He said, it's all been sorted out before he departed Saudi, but I guess by 'sorted out', he meant he patched things up with the other kabayan. Sadly thought, his police records remained. I sat with him at the airport lounge: I, waiting for my flight to Bahrain; him, waiting for his connecting flight to Manila.

'Paano na ang mga utang ko?', he asked. I told him he shouldn't lose hope. Whatever happened to him, happened for a reason. For all you know, I said, it could be the way to find that 'dream job' you've been looking for. For all you know, I added, maybe your luck is not abroad; it's in the Philippines.


The next day, on my return flight to Kuwait, I met three other kabayans with another sad stories. One kabayan, whose face lights up whenever you talk to her, just lost her brother to a 'kulam'. She said maybe her brother's death is an awakening for her to finally go home. She narrated that she worked as a maid -- not just for one Kuwaiti family -- but for what seemed to be the entire clan! She slaved for the mother of her 'amo', for her amo's sisters and their families, etc, etc.

'Madalas, madaling araw na ako natutulog, pero ni isang kusing maliban sa maliit kong sahod, hindi nila ako binibigyan kahit tatlong pamilya ang pinagtatrabahuan ko,' she said.

Of her lengthy sob stories, what touched me the most is how she narrated how she sits at the back of the family van -- where you normally put your luggages. And whenever they're on a trip and the family orders McDonalds, they would never order for her. She ends up smelling the fries, but never tasting it!

I kidded her and said: Bakit hindi mo sila ipakulam lahat? She retorted: Baka magalit ang nasa itaas (God). I admired her more for that.

The other two kabayans are 'takas'. They thought their 'amo' would process their transfer of sponsorship, only to find out that they are already at the police station being processed for repatriation back to the Philippines. In fact, when I met them, they look like they're just running errands -- on slippers, on shirts and jogging pants. A kind kabayan at the airport gave them new clothes to wear. Another one bought them sandwiches to eat.

We, the passengers of that Bahrain/Kuwait/Manila flight, chipped in cash to give to the three kabayans. Too bad I can only give them that, and I guess prayers that wherever they are now -- maybe just boarding their Kuwait/Manila flight at 11pm -- and wherever fates lead them, may they stay strong and resilient. And may good things finally happen to them in the Philippines so they won't have a need to search their future abroad.

Morning last Sunday, a colleague showed me the newspaper and said I'm on it.

Yes, I am -- there below! -- together with our Indian colleagues during the celebration of the Indian Independence Day last 15 August.



Naks!

I'm impressed with the Indian Nationals in our office. They sang their national anthem, explained the meaning of their flag, showed us their national flower (lotus), animal (tiger) and fruit (guess what? it's mango, too!).

They also had a short contest where I won a prize. It's an impromptu Q&A which I managed to answer quite accidentally.

The question: Who was the first man to walk in space?

In an almost inaudible sound, I whispered to my colleague that it can't be Neil Armstrong, although I doubt whether Yuri Gagarin is the person...

I didn't finish my sentence because an Indian collegue was already pointing at me saying that I got the answer right! Cool. The things you get when you're verbalizing your thoughts. Hehe.

I gave away the prize to another colleague -- an Indian -- who had a newborn that same morning.

Although belatedly, I greet all my Indian friends -- and all the Indians in the world -- namaste.

First stop: the church.

Every Friday, Catholic churches in Kuwait celebrate anticipated masses in Tagalog. (In lieu of the obligatory Sunday mass, the Catholic Church allowed a celebration of a Sunday mass during Fridays; Friday being the usual weekend in Mideast countries).

The Tagalog mass in Kuwait City is at 3pm; in Ahmadi (where I usually attend mass), it's at 6pm.

These are some photos I took during my last trip to Kuwait City last Friday.

Correct me if I'm wrong:  I thought the depiction of St Joseph in this painting at the church's altar is the most credible depiction of him, an Arab-descent.

The Filipino congregation inside the church.

Outside the church.  I heard there's a plan to put a covered walk here.

Second pit-stop: UTC tambayan.

One place which is also a favorite among Pinoys in Kuwait is UTC. Even before I came here, Saudi-based Pinoys who've been in Kuwait always refer to UTC as the 'Pinoy tambayan' in Kuwait. (I guess it's like Batha in Riyadh and Rahmaniya in Alkhobar). 

UTC's front signage.

Eastern promenaders on a typical Friday.

The 'mall' is old and but it still is a favorite meeting place among our kabayans.

There are other malls in Kuwait like The Avenue and The Marina Mall but on two occasions that I've been there, I didn't see as many Pinoys as I see in UTC.

There is no such thing as trying. Overhead this conversation yesterday.

Person 1: In life, there is no such thing as trying. Either you do it or you don't.

Person 2 looked at him quizically.

Person 1: Try to raise your right arm.

Person 2 did.

Person 1: I said, T-R-Y to raise your right arm! I didn't say you do it.

I wanted to laugh out loud, but I feel like I would be invading their privacy.

I thought: So that's the reason why Nike has this 'just do it' slogan.

Don't try it. Just do it.

Tomorrow, Wednesday the 11th, will be the start of the Holy Month of Ramadan (or depending on the sighting of the moon tonight; it could start on Thursday).

For the entire month, Muslims practice sawm, or fasting, which means they do not eat or drink anything, including water, between sunrise and sunset.

We, working in the Mideast countries, must observe utmost respect for the Muslim and Ramadan. In practice, and by law, we too are forbidden to eat, drink and smoke (or even chew gum) in public places between sunrise and sunset.

The Kuwaiti authorities have warned the public and have imposed a fine of KD100 (equivalent to $347 or around SAR1,300 or around PHP15k) with a month-long imprisonment to offenders. (KD100 is a month's salary of some Filipinos here in Kuwait).

Ramadan falling in August is extra-difficult because the day is longer than the night. Thus, fasting could be as early as three in the morning and could break around seven-ish in the afternoon.

Add to that is the sweltering temperature which, in Kuwait, averages around 48OF.

The Kuwait authorities, taking into consideration the above factors, expressed their leniency to those working outside air-conditioned facilities (those in construction and offshore). Those who are ill are also not imposed upon to fast for health reasons.

I changed my blog’s look January this year. It’s been six months now. Besides, have you tried not changing clothes for six months? Or perhaps trying to eat the same food for 180 days? Or this: not changing your bed sheet and pillowcases? Or, yes, this: not changing your u-wear for six straight months?

So I’m entitled to have a change, right?

Truthfully? I screwed it up once again. That saying ‘if it’s working, don’t fix it’ is sooo very true. Last week, I tried changing something and suddenly everything went kaput. I was experimenting something and I didn’t intend to save my work, but the ever-efficient Blogger saved it for me.

Lessons learned:

1/ Backup your template;
2/ Backup your posts;
3/ Don’t experiment with on your blog without performing 1 above.

I know I’ll end up screwing this one in the near future – again! -- after maybe six months (or even less!).

I’m truly an incorrigible, insatiable, ever-changing being. I don’t think there’s a medication for that.

So there. Welcome to my renovated home.

One month. Exactly one month today when I arrived in Kuwait. Have adjusted, I should say. But still struggling to contain the boredom that I feel in the office. I'm still waiting for work to bury me. A month in Kuwait and I'm still not doing anything.

I kidded an officemate: If by end of August I receive my salary for bumming around...(pregnant pause)...I will wait for September salary to come, and October, and November...

I feel I'm being dishonest for not doing anything. I feel like I'm thieving whenever I go home at five without a work accomplishment. It's not my fault, is it? I've approached people in the office to give me work. I've asked around where I can help. But it seems work is in a dwindle that's why I find myself not doing anything most of the time. I wonder though why am I the only one professing that I've no work...

I'm intent. One of these days, I will post this in my cubicle: Will pay for work. (Meaning: if they give me work; I will them money!).

Poor me.

And so because I'm not doing anything, I'm absorbed to reading work-related materials (yeah, right) and occasionally of online news.

This morning, I chanced upon this New York Times' Immigrant Maids Flee Lives of Abuse in Kuwait with a b&w photo of jampacked kababayans sprawled in what seemed to be a poorly ventilated living room -- most of them unmindful of the camera. I'm damn sure why I feel remorse for them: because I know their sad and sob stories are true, and I know that, currently, they are numbering 200! (The Filipino priest here in Ahmadi, Kuwait keeps imploring for assistance for those kababayans and keeps saying there are 200+! kabayans in the shelter). See these heart-wrenching slides from New York Times.



Out of those 200, I know more than half will flee from the shelter. Them strong-willed will find ways to survive in Kuwait in whatever way possible.

I know so because I've befriended one Filipina who had the same sob story 15 years ago. She is now married to an American and they are due to retire to the Philippines by end of this year.

She narrated to me the following (for some reasons, I can't help but associate her to Janice Jurado -- not because she is well-endowed, but because looking at her, I am certain -- and she unembarassingly admits it -- that she's a beauty during her hey-Jo-day):

"Tatlong araw lang ako sa amo ko sa Kuwait. Kadadating ko pa lang sa airport, dinala kaagad ako sa laundry room. Hindi pa man lang ako nakakain. Diyos ko, nakita ko ung papalantsahin, mas matangkad pa sa akin!"

Okay, so let's call her Janice.

"Tapos pagkatapos kong maplantsa ung mga damit, gusto naman maglaba ako. Ano un?! E di napasma ako! Hay naku, pagkalipas ng isang buwan, tumakas ako. Nagpunta ako sa embassy. Isang buwan din ako doon. E naku naman, napurga ako sa alamang. Laging yun ang ulam. Tsaka me multo dun 'no! Gabi-gabi me nagpaparamdam."

"Naranasan kong matulog sa rooftop ng mga building. Kapag may pulis, nagtatago ako. Sumama ako sa mga Pilipino at naging katulong nila. E maganda pa ako noon tsaka bata. Pinalad naman akong makatagpo ng isang mabait in Kuwaiti na nagbigay sa akin ng papel kaya ako naging legal."

Woody Allen once said: comedy is tragedy plus time. I think Janice is able to animate her story because she's been through it already. But 15 years ago, I'm sure she would be sobbing in between those lines.

"Nung may papel na ako, saka ako namasukan. Cashier. Parlor. Grocery. Tapos five years ago, nakita ko si Kano. E kahit naman matanda na lola mo, me asim pa rin."

She said she's 40. My playful thoughts conjured: Lola ko talaga, nagpabata pa e!

"Niligawan nya ako kaya sinagot ko sya. Hellow! Swerte ko na un no!"

She corrected me: "Hoy, hindi sya nagpaaral sa mga anak ko. Ako! Sariling kayod ang pinapadala kong pera sa mga anak ko. Nung ma-meet ko si Kano at nakabili kami ng bahay somewhere sa Pinas, naiyak ako. Akala ko talaga, mamamatay ako'ng sa kahon lang ibuburol. Ngayon, me bahay na kami ni Kano."

"Hindi ako mayaman," she snarled at me. She said not because she's married to an American means she's rich. "Hindi a. Namamasukan din kaya sila. Yung sahod ni Kano, maraming pinupuntahan. Me pamilya kaya yan sa States. Pinapadalhan nya kahit divorced na sila ng asawa n'ya. Tapos naghuhulog pa kami ng bahay namin. Kaya nga ako uuwi para magnegosyo. Karinderya siguro dahil masarap naman akong magluto."

What endeared her to the American is that she never asked for anything. "Hindi ako bilmoko." Bilmoko is what you call those people who love asking that you buy them material things: ibili mo ako n'un, ibili mo ako nito!. In Saudi, we kiddingly called them teacher. Mahilig kasi magturo (ng bibilhin).

"Tsaka matipid ako," Janice continued.

Some of the 'takas', she said, go out of the shelter and become 'kabit'. "E bakit? Kesa mamatay kang nakadilat ang mata, dapat gumawa ka ng paraan para mabuhay!"

That the subject of runaway maids is a touchy subject is true, as what the NYT article said. What becomes of them outside the shelter is an even more sensitive topic to discuss. What Janice told me is not verifiable. But deep inside, I know there's tinge of truth to what she said.

"They will survive," Janice said. "They will", I repeated to myself while wondering how long will I feel burdened for what I learned.

Everything you need to know about PEBA 2010 are in The Kablogs Journal Issue 5 which goes online today.

The PEBA Primer, contained in this month's TKJ issue, is Janelle Vales' idea, which featured, among others, an interview with PEBA President Kenjie Solis, a short interview with four of PEBA 2009 winners, a where-in/how-to graphic instructions for bloggers who wish to join PEBA 2010, and reasons why you should not miss out PEBA 2010.

And we also put on spotlight Francesca of France, the endearing mom blogger from France, who won in PEBA 2009!

And yes, we guarantee that you'll also enjoy the regular column posts that we've prepared for your this month.

So dig in and share us your thoughts.

Next month, we hope we'll see your article or two in TKJ journal.