Photo Op

For my brother Adnan, who's been asking for pictures.

Turtle Power
Anyone who's been to Sarawat [aka Souk Aj-Jiddah Ad-Dawlih], knows this old bastard. He's been around for the past two decades.







Chillin' At Chili's
I don't like the food at Chili's. In fact, I don't even like this cup of capuccino. But isn't it picture perfect?

Brought To Us By...

The closest thing to an alcoholic beverage here in Jeddah: non-alcoholic malt. I remember back in high school, when my clique [Joan, Jiehan, Jehanifah, Michelle] and I would sneak out of the school grounds to get our daily dose of Lemon Barbican from the baqalah. This was before we discovered the alcoholic variety in college.

Paging Roger Bus-Riders...

Who can ever forget Roger the bus driver and the crazy-ass records he used to play on the bus radio? "Brother Louie Louie Louie...." used to haunt my dreams. It was in this bus that I made my first best friend: Sarah Saifullah, Pakistani national. She spoke English and I spoke Maranao. Friendship transcends language.

To Teach A Mockingbird: Kill It

"Those who can't do, teach. And flunk those who can."

I hate teaching. I was always meant to be a bad student, not a good teacher. My students hate me, and I hate them twice as much. I bore them, and they bore me. They judge me by my heritage, and I judge them back by their physical appearance. No love lost here, can you tell? My friend and colleague Summer tells me I haven't been teaching long enough to complain about it. I don't need to be in this profession for long to know that I'm just not cut out for the job. But, Goddamnit, it's the only job available to me in this country! The only thing I can't complain about is the pay. I know I sound like such a brat just saying this, but I guess it's my exhaustion speaking right now. And it's getting tired, I know, but I want out. The search is not over.

The dialogue at Dar Al-Hekma College earlier today was a complete rip-off, IMHO. Where do they come off calling it an open forum when all the questions posed were left unanswered and skirted? What a disappointment. It could've been a great step forward for Saudi women, especially since the cream-of-the-media-crop was present: BBC, Fox, CNN. But questions such as "Why does the American media continue to project Saudi society in a negative light?" were obviously not the ones they wanted asked. Ambassador Hughes sounded nervous and fake the whole time. I can just imagine my students' reactions to the whole affair tomorrow in class when we discuss their feedback. They're probably expecting me to defend The West, since I'm teaching them Western culture and linguistics. I hate teaching college students [in addition to hating teaching in general]. I want to be on their side, not up there on the spotlight.

My faulty memory is a disgrace. I met a lot of people earlier today at the college, most of whom I have already met at some dinner function or other, apparently. Is there any way to ask a person his/her name when he/she remembers yours? Apart from the awkward one?

I was seated beside this obnoxious American lady during the first half of the dialogue; she's been in Jeddah for a month and already she wants to leave. She says her tarha [veil] is considered a hazard in Wisconsin where she's from, because some thief or mugger may easily come up behind her and strangle her with it. Thus her extreme distaste for it. I don't think I've ever heard of anyone attacked in such a manner. Hmmm... Death By Tarha. I had to leave her by herself, I was very uncomfortable with the ocean of difference between her and myself.

Death by Film

5 Films I Watch A Lot:

5. Pulp Fiction. You know what, any movie by Quentin Tarantino is worth watching hundreds of times over, IMHO, of course. His films have a wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am feel about, sort of a no-bullshit bullshit approach. But Pulp Fiction was fantastic. I loved the soundtrack [Al Green's I'm So In Love With You], I loved the dialogue, I loved the humor, I loved Samuel Jackson's Ezekiel 25:17 speech, I loved Uma Thurman's OD scene, I loved Quentin's cameo, and I love John Travolta.

4. Snatch. Director Guy Ritchie is crazy. Cool, funny crazy. His films have a straightforward quality, just like Tarantino's, and I like that. Swept Away starring his wife Madonna was good, even though the people over at the Box Office didn't. His earlier film Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels is almost as good as Snatch, except it didn't star Brad Pitt and his crazy-ass Gypsy accent. This is probably the only film [before Troy] I liked that starred Brad Pitt because I really don't like Pitt in heartthrob roles. I wasn't bothered to watch Legends of The Fall, and I hated Meet Joe Black and Pitt's stupid peanut-butter-licking character. Sorry. Anyway, Benicio del Toro also starred in Snatch, and it featured his now-famous squint. The only other person who can squint as well as del Toro does is the original squint-er Bruce Willis, who in turn lent his squinting prowess in Pulp Fiction.

3. Face Off. Because I love John Travolta. I just do.

2. City of God. Man, that was some serious film-making there. Every time I watched it, I learned something new, some new insight, some new emotion, some new poignant conclusion, what-have-you. Plus, the soundtrack was fantastic. You can never go wrong with James Brown.

1. Pretty Woman. Who doesn't watch Pretty Woman over and over again, anyway? It's the classic Cinderella Story, made so much more special because it seems absolutely impossible and far-fetched.

Of Cowardice And Imminent Doom

Well, there you have it. A Filipina works so hard she busts her non-existent balls and where does it land her? A spot at the American presidential kitchen as chef. Congratulations. My hardworking fellow countryman is your fellow countryman's chef, cook, maid, ho, and whatever else degrading work you can hide behind a euphemism. I'm sorry if I sound very cynical or negative about it, but if I hear anyone telling me to look at the bright side of it one more time, I will burn my eyebrows, so help me. President Gloria is doing all the looking-at-the-bright-side for all of us, at that UN meeting where the microphones picked up her blushing comments to the American Presidents praises. Isn't it sad that we're doomed to be kitchen-people for the rest of our lives just because we happened to be the little-brown-brothers of our Caucasian superiors? We need our very own Martin Luther King, Jr. if that's the case.

I can't believe this guy, I swear to God. Bitch, you gotta help me. He was YOUR BOYFRIEND, too!! Hahaha. Okay, here's the lowdown on the downlow. Ten years ago, I had this nauseating crush on one of my distant cousins. You know, the cousins you have that are 400 times removed you wonder if you're even related at all? He was very good-looking at the time. Understand that he was maybe 13 years old back then. He had a striking resemblance to Ahmed Ash-Sharif, this Arab popstar. Anyway. Fast forward to a hundred years later. He has now become this obnoxious, dumb-ass, Usher-looking muthafucka who slings soap-opera one-liners my way every now and again. The worst part is that he keeps calling me Coz. The thing is, he's ten years late. If he'd thrown his bullshit at me when I was as dumb as he is now, I would've swooned and sacrificed my youngest brother's blood to a makeshift altar of his image I would've made in my room. So. How do you stave off unwanted attention and disgusting amorous advances? I mean, if he looked anything like Andy Garcia in The Godfather III, I wouldn't mind him calling me Coz, you know?

If any of y'all have information about this guy, please notify me immediately. He is wanted for causing personal unrest. His full name is Ragheb Alama, and he can be identified easily because his songs contain nothing but Habibi and Bahebbak, words that are potentially terrorrist-ic.