Jason And Rischel's Eid Wedding In Obhur!

"There could be no better timing than holding it on the first day of Eid, when every soul is animated by the partying genes in them."

They say you don't reside in Jeddah if nary you've been to Obhur. Down to the advent of  genetic age, the right pronunciation remains debatable. Some say it is Abhur, but who cares anyway? The place is far from being abhorrent. It is famous for its long stretch of beaches and dotting private resorts that cater to exclusive parties and any kind of gatherings. Jeddah has been my abode for almost a tenth of the century, but never had I ventured  the place once. Well, the trend has seen its era broken  last Thursday. Not a coincidence, it was a wedding reception for one of our classmates at TCI. There could be no better timing than holding it on the first day of Eid, when every soul is animated by the partying genes in it.

Rischel the bride is one of our classmates at TCI. Her better-half is Jason. The couple finally had their moment after five years. The wedding reception was fabulous and well-organized. The venue was huge for a party, complete with rooms for 'special guests'. The dancefloor was more than enough  to handle loads of prowling party-hungry guests.

All my TCI classmates were invited, but only a handful came. The seven who got to attend were incidentally the most talented from the class (lol!) except for this one who doesn't glamorize squirming on the dance floor. ( Sorry absentees, you didn't get to show off your wares and so the talent-less label.) We consequently missed out on the program emceed by one of our classmates as an incentive for arriving late. First off, the wedded couple danced, paying tribute to tradition as guests and friends scrambled to steal the limelight, dear notes fluttering their way into the couples' dainty outfits. ( Not a bad idea though to defray a recession-plagued wedding outgoes.  I'm grabbing an FB pic of Benjie, a classmate donning a note on the couple; I'm just damn curious about the color,  he purposely had it taken blurrily, hmmm :-))

Blame it on the Saudi norm, the sight of men and women gyrating as if there's no tomorrow provided a bit of a shocker to me. I've never seen for the longest time men and women mopping around the floor together in an intensely libidinal passion. Normally, you don't get to see women disrobed  in a public place. And here you see order is restored. So, it was a real party atmosphere in every sense of the word. Disco lights elevated the reveling moods interrupted only by an occasional trip to the buffet table to refuel. Foods were sumptuous. Desserts were in abundance. If you came flauntingly in your scanty belly, well think again. You did not come to deprive yourself of the heavenly, after a month of conforming to the adoptive 'dawn till dusk' rituals. It would be a huge anomaly not indulging in as much as your tank can hold up. [Hey, before the glutton label comes up, we were discreetly refined! (bawi agad).]

What made us TCI students even more at home (apart from the food), the couple had assigned one private room exclusively for us. The room was spacious with three beds and the ambience was relaxing. Some unsuspecting guests did attempt a blind invasion, as many crammed through the aisles but were promptly fended off by the boldly-printed warning - FOR Total Care International Students Only. Understandably, guests came in multitudes that after a merciless ambush of the buffet table, they came in scrambling poaching for nests to 'de-stress'.

Fronting our  room was the singers' lounge. Those with vocal pipes to flaunt, get to show off their homesick-driven talents, and the 'wailing' souls did not appear to tire till the sun started to grumble. I had to be content with video-recording the exploits of my classmates of whom three are legitimate singers ( yes, they can carry a tune hence the label 'singers', joke only folks :-))  Khrisnan the humongous bundle of talent, (literally) wiped the crowd off their feet with his Mariah-ness belting prowess. Jhun, the 'kuya' of the group revved up the night with his flamboyant  rendition of big ballads. And Jay, whose singing style is more current crooned us with his mastery of America's materials. And one big revelation, Gerry got to wow us with the remnant of Comaneci's influence in him. :-)  It was no botched Swan Lake choreography, he just owned it, and the night too. That was very funny of him. He really stole the show!  Best buddies Emil and Benjie were the most camera-savvy. They were all over the lens, and inseparable too.

Time to grow fins and scales. It's splash time! The pool was rather suppressed and narrow, but enough to drown a dumb duck. It was less busy by then. The water was lukewarm. And photo ops too for those least concerned of their extra baggage! That's why some refused to shed their tops including me ha ha! Well, if it's public, anything of the ridiculous does not help one's self-esteem. Oh wait, perhaps that answers the riddle why Khrisnan refused to dip his integuments in the pool? (joke) Then customer traffic slightly became congested and so the group settled on the shallow part. Unable to hold lesson review as earlier planned, Jhun our group leader who happened to be a college lecturer randomly picked questions to throw at us. As expected, I did not answer anything. No time yet to browse my notes. I still maintain my penchant for cramming on the dead hours. Don't know why. :-) '

'Twas around eight or past when we decided our energies already drained in the pool. After rinsing, the group simultaneously suffered a post-bath syndrome. The remedy? A last trip to the buffet table where only cakes and sweets survived the gory frenzy earlier. The only suitable edible left was the 'papaitan' that tasted so good; the secret maybe is hidden  not on the condiments but from its oily soup that could drown your heart with fats. But then again, nothing is spared when you  too are in a frenzy to stuff your rioting parts. Sounds gruesome? Not at all, we still handled it with finesse befitting a guest. :-)

Time to pack up. Eyes turned anomalous red. The venue looked as though it just survived a great commotion. And there's not much we can do. Perched at the aisle leading to the door, Jason said his thank you's as we bade him. He has a kind heart. But the bride was nowhere to be found. She had to disappear early to report for duty, I heard. So, no reprieve for the chaos of the day at least to rest on her wedding day? Truly, Rischel is one strong pragmatic woman. Hats off to both of them.

As our tiny car can only seat five people (I mean leaner ones), I don't know how Khrisnan and Jhun managed to keep up with lean Gerry. Off to the winding Corniche road, we spotted yet again perfect photo material and raced towards it for pictorials. And down the steep-walled rocky beach, we ventured dipping and photo ops again! It's no longer fun when the sun threatens to burn your epidermis, and so home is the next thing in mind. One by one we dropped our loads to the delight of our tiny toy. Gerry was quick to get down to check his FB status ( I found out later). Khrisnan wasn't already talking when we dropped him, he could have fallen asleep by the alley, I'm afraid. Jhun was doubting if he would still be facebooking or not. And just yesterday, Benjie's shoutout was not cool, something scary happened to them on their way home? Will try to find out on Friday. On the positive, everyone had a blast. Food and fun, adventure and bonding moments, and another few days left before the holiday ends. Eid Mubarak to all!

Watch the video HERE!

Telemoney: A Pain In The Neck

"Rather than choking in rage, it's rather appeasing to vent my anger on this page."

I can understand the frustration of the thousands who flocked to Telemoney Remittance Centers these days, and I'm no stranger to chaos that defines the kind of customer service for which they are notoriously known. It is the month of Ramadan... fine! No one disputes the slothful demeanor of some (if not most) of their personnel when attending to a queue of 'nuisance' clients in front of them. Forget that they are customers - the sustaining life-giver behind every robust yet arrogant commercial establishment. But with time, the customers have learned to adapt to its 'ultra-excellent' style of customer (dis)service.

I too understand  that most Telemoney employees are obsessed with the Eid holiday that they forget it is not holiday yet. Does anyone from among them bother to give a taunting glance at their own work timing that they deliberately violate and insult  their clients? By the way, who would give a damn if the waiting clients fry in the sun outside with neck arching imploring their mercy? When the boldly-printed work timing flauntingly reads to be 1:30 pm as closing time, I think arriving at exactly twelve noon did not warrant us to be shut at. Yes, I don't forget that they pray five times a day, and if they miss out on one, their 'rewards' in heaven will be in jeopardy. But for my neighbor's sake, the next prayer time is still at 12:30 pm.! No one would stop them if they leave their chairs and proceed to grab their halos and enter their own 'holy of holies'. But at least, those who have come on time should be dealt with respect and accorded humanity.

A case lost. Sound virtues refuse not to fade, just yet. I proceeded to ask the Osama-resembling security guard in my best Arabic if they will open after prayer time. He nodded in the affirmative, very assuredly. Prayer time ends at 1 pm. Another agonizing 30-minute sunbathing is tolerable, not a threat to life nonetheless. Half an hour is a torture, but to see the lovely Telemoney door opens, is a reward for the patience of having to wake up much earlier than usual and ignoring the merciless Arabic sun. I couldn't be more confident knowing that those who fast in their Taliban-esque goatee are not capable to lie (at least from dusk till dawn). Those already inside were herded out. Time to get inside too. At last. Just my second trip to Telemoney Hera'a in two days, yesterday was a mission impossible. The crowd just didn't let up. You stay for a good five hours or you miss your work which is a big no in Ramadan. But before the glassdoor got to our grip, the goatherd shunned us and announced that we be back at 9:30 pm. I was dumbfounded in disbelief! I started to rage inside and others before me had to rebel in a profanity-laced fit of revenge albeit in vain. The alibi sounded immensely incredible. There was only one teller serving. Wait, they're not insane! They're but slothful bloated-bellied incompetent stinking butt over brain walking s**t! Enough to say that I get consolation from my own page where my rage is vent on these fec*l residues that they are!

The Telemoney management could have thought better of improving their services during Ramadan. Complaints and seismic reactions from their loyal clients (in my case I have no choice) have become too uncommon because of their incompetence. They must have forgotten that they transact with humans. These humans are people, with jobs to keep, with families to feed and not to be treated like ill people needing alms from them. It's no easy thing to do skipping work multiple times and them not respecting their own policies and rules. It's not our fault if in the midst of the customer stampede their other Mr. Teller suddenly gave birth. And if their lone teller gets tired easily, because he is not used to the stench from the crowd, at least they could have warned the parasites outside in the sun, that their door was not pleased to take in more beyond their own terms, and not promising to open the door after performing their revered rituals. Nine in the evening is not an option though for the majority of us who came in the morning for obvious reasons.

I am not alone in the same predicament. We are many but I don't find solace from that.  Most of us will have to settle after Eid holiday to send money to our families. And I begrudgingly see it as wasted time and resources. Rather than choking in rage, it's so appeasing to vent my anger on this page. Should not be reacting this way, if not an urgent case. Certain financial obligations have to be met in an appointed time and another visit to the nearest pawnshop could be the last recourse. I have learned a lesson the hard way. To them it's no big deal, it's a way of life. Shame on them!