I have been missing Sandbox.

Where part of your life has lived through precarious sands, in your heart lies that part of Arabic ethnicity you would certainly miss every so often.

I lived my high school years in the precious kingdom of Saudi Arabia, "sandbox" as it is commonly called. It was my father's decision to take my mother and me with him and live there together. At first, I couldn't think of myself not studying in my own country. But when I graduated, I've realized that it is one of the best parts of my teenage life.

Living in the Middle East, I would say, is a little bit boring. You know, the limitations and all kinds of restrictions given to you in this strict kingdom; it's so dull. In my first two years, I felt so sentimental. I usually think of my relatives, the foods, the traditions and festivals, the Philippines itself. Whatsoever, I just made myself enjoy the little riches I wouldn't take pleasure in my country.

So, which things did I enjoy in the sandbox? First, I would never forget the freezing weather that usually falls from early November to late February. Cheap electricity, cheap crude oil, and cheap water bills; e.g. 24/7 air conditioning, and all the things you can imagine with these as low-cost. I also enjoyed the times when we are still able to buy those valuable clothes and eat at those fine-dining restaurants. The late-night snacks, the beaches, my own room, my desk, all these little things are what I really miss right now.

A big part of my life should be adjusted to the real world. When I left the kingdom and eventually stepped at the grounds of Ninoy Aquino International Airport, I cannot think properly. It was 5 in the morning and what I was really thinking about is the scholarship exam in UP Diliman at exactly 7 AM at that same day. I know I may not be able to pass the exam primarily because of my disordered body clock. Thank God, after about two weeks, the results came in and I passed.

At that point, I was barely back to reality. But at this point, here I am, missing those moments of delight and timeless pleasures.

Night Stalker

I never intended to do this but due to some class requirements, I was forced to somehow stalk someone. I started my task by following a girl after I’ve gone to the church last Saturday night. One would mistake her for a stewardess or an office girl, but I knew that she was wearing a school uniform of a school in my province. I noticed that she was all in black except for the long-sleeve blouse and socks, which are white. She was wearing a necktie, sleeveless coat on and a knee-length skirt. I could still see her leather shoes reflect the lights as she was leaving the church. It was probably a new one. Her posture will qualify her to a beauty contest, but her height would not let her. Though her skin was not of a snow, her whiteness would stand out among those who are near her. And I would say, she only eats twice a day because of her thinness.

I couldn’t manage to see her face well. I saw her from a side view, but most of the time, I am at her back. She was with an old man, maybe her dad. Once in a while, she would look at different directions. I was getting a feeling at that time that she noticed me looking at her; I was afraid to be caught by them or other people, so I distanced myself when I sat in one of the pews. After a careful observation, I thought her eyeglasses make about 70% of her face. I didn’t recognize her after she removed them and wiped with her handkerchief back inside the church. Even most of us will not recognize those who wear eyeglasses when we see them for the first time without wearing one.

As we were leaving, I’m thinking at that time if I would still stalk her. I decided not to because if I continue to do so, that might be stalking for real. Besides, the church is not a good place to look for someone to describe him/her physically. And I was not that interested in her because for the first time I saw her, I thought that she was only a first year high school student.

I would like to end this by sharing a (1) quote from Molly Harper;

"I think the very word stalking implies that you're not supposed to like it. Otherwise, it would be called 'fluffy harmless observation time'."

and a (2) picture I got from Google.

Stalking: In Real Life and On Facebook (c) endlessorigami