Before I work here in Saudi Arabia, I’m already blogging. In fact, I lose count how many did I abandon already. For now, this blog is the only one I’m updating.
I work ten hours a day. For six days a week. That’s already a lot of time. Sometimes, I work even more.
It doesn’t even include the time I take for other important things. Laundry. Iron-pressing of clothes. Cooking. Taking a bath. Buying foods in the market.
In my last blog post, I mentioned how I computed my remaining free time.
I can remember as if it was yesterday. Day one as Overseas Filipino Worker.
I arrived at the Dammam Airport. I saw different people from different countries. All are hopefuls of taking a bite of this huge cake of opportunity called “The Kingdom of Saudi Arabia.”
After several months it hit me. Life here is not a piece of cake.
As many had experienced, I lose count of how many times I thought of quitting. I doubted myself. I regret coming here.
I ask myself some questions. Can I really survive working here? For the money, was it all worth it?
I know from the people I spoke here. Both Filipino and non-Filipinos. Working here is same as signing up for military school. Okay, I might be exaggerating. This I’m sure, though, toughness is a must.
I dedicate this list to Filipino men. Especially those I encountered in the construction sites. They’re the real tough guys.
Today I just want to make this post a little bit shorter than my previous ones. This time I go straight to the point.
Looking back, telling my life stories with anyone is already daunting to me. First, I’m too shy. Second, I don’t believe I’m an interesting person.
I’m one of those who is always in pretension of texting someone on the phone to survive the crowd. Somehow, I understand people who hesitate to talk to anyone. Much more share their most hidden broken stories.
Today, I’m still struggling. My biggest proof? I never say to anyone I have a blog to share my life on the World Wide Web.
I’m quite a hypocrite. I put in my About Page I created this blog so my friends and relatives could get in-touch with me. Yet, even my roommates have no idea.
In my head, I can hear a voice saying “Duh? Keep-in-touch? Hello? Do you know the meaning of social media? Why not go online and type ‘Hello’?” I did. Once in a while.
All expatriates I talked to here in Saudi Arabia came here for work. I never find anyone whose purpose is to have a missionary volunteer work. No one works here for free. Yet, there are some who did but not voluntarily. Unfortunate ones got delayed salaries or none at all. Some got paid, but with deducted working hours, vanished from thin air. Or say vanished from someone’s thick wallet. Some even mistreated with verbal and physical abuse.
Every pursuit has its own benefits and risks. Many people, including me, came here without knowing what we’re up to. Well, how can we know? Same as all the expatriate workers here, I already carried my own weights of heavy loads. I’m always thankful to God for protecting me from taking unbearable sufferings.