Right, so I’ve just arrived in Jeddah, had my passport photocopied and piled my two carry-ons into AACB’s beautiful Landcruiser Prado. Heading out from the airport parking lot, it quickly becomes obvious that I was right: no amount of money can turn a desert into an oasis. There’s quite a bit of shrubbery, (clearly manicured, though not particularly tasteful), but by and large, the roads are dusty and and their surroundings barren. All in all, it looks a little like one of the suburban areas of Karachi, maybe Gulshan-e-Iqbal before it really took off. The effect is accentuated by beggars who attack our car in familiar fashion at every traffic light. (Bah, fine — it’s not quite like Karachi: the beggars here are African.)
We approach WACA’s Peptobismol-pink compound through two checkposts, snaking through cement blocks and barbed wire placed in the middle of the road to prevent terrorists from racing past the checkposts. From behind a (hopefully) bullet-proof window, the attendant at the gate glances at AACB and opens the gate.
The compound consists of something like 200 residences, arranged around a set of facilities in the center of the compound. We drive along the road that follows the compound’s external wall until we get to the entrance to AACB’s block. The houses are terraced, with a driveway cut into them. Ours is a corner house, so the single-car driveway, stuffed now with the Prado, isn’t too claustrophobic.
It’s still very early, so only Ammi and Abbu are up, in the living room sofa perpendicular to the front door. Before she sees me or hears my voice, I see a quick smile on Ammi as I open the door: this is more valuable to me than the hugs and kisses that follow. Reliably, Abbu’s ecstatic to see me.
Having dispensed with the greetings and had a quick drink, I head upstairs to get what little sleep I can. Ammi follows me (I’m sleeping on a mattress in their room), ready to chat if I’m up for it. Abbu protectively closes the door to let me get my rest.
I’ve only just begun chatting with Ammi when I hear a loud squeal. Mac and Irti are up. I hear Abbu tell them to let me get some sleep, but by this point I’m as excited as they are. I open the door a crack and then the whole way and Mac bounds towards me. Irti’s visibly shy, but eager to stay in-step with Mac, and runs at my legs as I lift Mac up.
After a few minutes of horsing around, the kids are shooed out and the door closed. I’m very pleased with myself for coming on this vacation as I doze off.
(Why in present continuous? Dunno…the mood struck me!)
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