Blog 4 Sana Helwa ya Sarah!!!

“It’s been a whiiilllllle, since I could…..”
While a less dedicated person would sing along to the real song (and since I am most definitely not less dedicated), I sung along in pain, anxiety, and agony how “it’s been a while (a long while too) since I have… WRITTEN A BLOG!”

Let me not stress how dedicated I am, lest I surprise myself (and you). I’ve had two to three stunningly dedicated weeks—flowing with hard work and determination and prudence—it’s some prideful stuff:
· 1: Business mid-term on Wednesday October 17 was one midterm I studied absolutely nothing for till the day of. Praise goes to God the test was 7 at night.
· 2: A religion essay and a genetics essay—both late, two (Te DoubleU Oo) essays turned in late, two too many than I ever ever had ever ever done before.
· 3: I had not written one of you blogeess for “a while.”
· 4: I missed 4 classes so far— that is not counting the ones I had to skip for Vietnam, and not counting the ones I simply showed up to do no more than take up space in a lecture hall, my head wandering not once to the ChinaR professor, but the essay on my computer (refer to bullet point #2).

I couldn’t have been so dedicated for no reason of course! It needs discipline and responsibility… and not to mention Macao excursions, MY birthday parti(es), incredible surprises, parent visitations, unexpected showing up of brother, six fabulous 5-star hotel lodgings in 10 days, Guanzhou furniture shopping expeditions, and of course, waking up one morning to lose it all… in my N1422R spacious room and soft bed in HKBU.

We didn’t really go to Macao, who cares about Macao? We went to the Venetian in Macao! Ohhhh Myyyy Gooddddd! We were stripped from the earth to a heavely realm, one with its own skies and rivers, bungalows and high-class chocolates, shops and brands, bars and CASINOS—a serious Venetian province in a world far from its own, one I’ve never visited in my wildest imaginations. The ferry ride, although not the most exciting commencement to my trip, most definitely made me triple-excited to reach my future-honey-moon destination.

What I first recall was me, Evy, Fabs, and Leann jumping on our double beds having a very deep conversation which I do not remember a word. What kids we were in such a grand, luxurious, royal suite, talking pictures in the elevator and the bathroom? Activities undertaken: a lot of sleeping, eating, and the 100%-guaranteed-wasting-of-money-activity called gambling. That was ok though; it just made us resort to a lot more sleeping. I left early the next morning; I had so much work piling stones over my shoulders. I mean come on…parents were coming in a few days! Obviously, my dedication here seems to be ground-breaking, even awe-inspiring! Now that I think of it, I wish I stayed though; it wasn’t worth missing Michael bungee-jump for doing nothing when I got back.

“Sarah, do you know what tomorrow is?” Kris asked on the phone.
“What, no? Do we have vacation or something?” I got a little excited.
“No, no, no, but it’s a special day…” he continued. “Sarah, think a little harder, just a little…!”
I forgot it was my birthday. Kris thought I was an idiot.
Although October 11 2007 was my 6th birthday away from home, it was as sweet as my midnight surprise cake, the one I dove into with both hands—don’t ask me how that happened… Most definitely, I did not look 20 years old then. It all started at Taste after we had dinner at Festival Walk. I made us all go, I needed oatmeal; they made me wait. Apparently, Brian and Kris met two Saudi girls whom I advised not to talk to because “they will think you guys are crazy freaks.” But who listens to me? No one, not even my dog. Ends up, Kris and Brian wanted to ask them how to say Happy Birthday in Arabic and indeed, the girls thought they were freaks. But what can I say, this is Kris and Brian, and they figured it out! My cake did say: “Sana helwa ya jamil,” or happy birthday beautiful-- the Saudi way, not Egyptian style!

Although most definitely what started out as another meaningless night in my room escalated to a heart-glowing memory filled with baklava, cake, champagne (Oh was this in the dorms, I didn’t mention that!), and birthday cards dedicated to me as a loving wife on the one hand and an aging glass of fine wine on the other. I was so happy, so happy I had to hide my burning red face in both hands wrapped in a towel, as my heart shook with exhilaration. My friends surrounded me in a warm splendor, all wrapped in energy that was contagious and fulfilling—Evy, Miky, Krisy, Fabi, and Baboon—reminding me how simple nights can be most special… thank you my sweeties!

That was NOT the end of my birthday surprises! The next day we went to La Villa for my birthday dinner, an elegant restaurant infested with red disco balls on the ceiling and a clear Harbor view to the right (well actually depending on where you’re sitting). Everything was absolutely incredible there—food, talk, and even fashiontv—fun times. I had the time of my life, I wonder if I was the only one though… about $2600 was paid for 6 people, none of which I contributed... I swear I didn’t want it that way, I tried to pay! I had a surprise cake here too with a cute little pink candle on top! Then we went to a martini bar called Martini Bar, only to be followed by a night in Lan Kwai Fong running all over the tight streets, chasing each other, spinning around poles, and disturbing the Wan Chi district with loud screeches called Pepperdiners singing.

A few thoughts: I’m 20 now, a young Pepperdine girl, far away from home and college, sandwiched somewhere in between. Where am I? Who am I with? I found my head spinning with question marks as I spun around that pole on the street in Wan Chi, a hand gripped to the blue thing, the other waving 360 degrees. What in the world was I doing?! I had two classes the next morning, one 9:30AM! Awaiting my parents desperately with feelings of time crawling after a snail, there was an equal force on the other side asking me, how come everything seems to be happening so fast? I was thinking about mom and dad, I miss them. I was thinking about the late night out, could I handle this? I was thinking about not going to church since I’ve come to Hong Kong, could God approve of this? And yet, all I knew was that all my friends did this night for me, and I wanted them all so close, and they were indeed very close, closer than we’d ever been before, and I loved it. I loved it so much! That night, on my birthday, my birthday in Hong Kong, was the best!

My parents came the next day… read the next blog for more of the surprises… my birthday was not over yet!!!

Blog 3 (VIET) and NAM!

Apologies for my lateness in bloging-ness… It was all because of the most bonding and relaxing, crazy and exciting, refreshing and informing voyages ever to have taken place in my life that I remembered very little of any responsibilities that lay over my shoulders—that being until the moment I stepped off the plane in Hong Kong. Surely, as the myriad of painful realizations set in, horror was in action deep within my soul! I was crying in my lonely room, looking at a planner with no checks of anything completed (that’s a lie, I had no planner, I wish I did).

· Yes, I was crying.
· I was lonely, so lonely for the first time in five days.
· I had a bag overflowing with stinking, dirty clothes—meaning I needed to do laundry.
· I had no minutes on my phone to contact any of my friends that I haven’t seen for five minutes—longer than any span of time during my trip in Vietnam.
· I needed a shower so so SO bad but I was butt-lazy.
· I started to remember a bunch of sad incidences in my life—God knows why—that put me in depression mode all the more.

I have to admit, was it not for good old Kris to pass by me and later deciding to order pizza, I would have been sick in my bed refusing to go on with this Hong Kong experience (over-exaggeration)… But why was I so upset and depressed and heart-broken and CRYING FOR THE FIRST TIME HERE?

Well, the answer is: because I had the most unbelievable trip in Vietnam, my home for five days, with the family I’ve known for only a month…

Our red bus—sniff, sniff…sniff. The bus rides were our life in Vietnam. I wonder if my chair still remembers me. I miss it dearly, hope it does too. That bus! I ate Pringles and chocolate and coconut on it, I danced to Ricky Martin and Techno on it, I slept and maybe even snored on it, I laughed my head off and talked my tongue away on it, I learned so much in so little of Vietnam on it, I watched the hours pass away as details of Saigon and the Mekong Delta and even a speck of Cambodia rolled by on it…I grew closer and closer to all my friends on it. It was the bus that greeted us, and the bus that saw us leave goodbye. Ok, enough about the bus, or it may seem as if I grew fond of nothing but a machine on my trip to Vietnam.

So I was shocked to see so many motorcycles in my life. My eyes widened to images of old and young, two hands strapped on motorcycle handles, in a damn crowded country, moving along so freely and comfortably as if breezing along an ocean side on a beach-buggy. When later I would walk the streets (specifically cross the streets), well, that was a whole new adventure staring at center lights of motorcycles barging my way ready to take me over. At one point, I started singing “I will survive” running across every intersection, hand in hand in a straight line of 5 people. And I thought Hong Kong was bad?!

Precious moments passed by at the speed of light. One of which was the time I had 2 million with me, in one wallet, just one wallet, my wallet, and my wallet alone… unfortunately, it was Dong! It could buy so much, yet so little. Right outside of the ATM machine door, we ran into all the little Vietnamese poor kids and they took my breath away, maintaining a smile that spread across my face. Truly they are excellent business people: daring, confident, interesting, sweet, and not to mention, multi-lingual. Their English was absolutely perfect. I feel bad now that I never even bought one flower from any of them, but I did get silk letters the first day there. Beautiful—and they say Vietnam on them too.

I got the first massage in my life in Vietnam! And it was excellent, cheap, and oh, did I mention that it was excellent? Some people, unfortunately, had more than a massage—enough said. My first (yes I did go back for another one) was $9 and the second $20. It was soothing and perfect—OH MAN! I made friends with Ha too, she gave me my first massage and boy is she serious about her massaging abilities.

Vietnamese people are so awesome. They are energetic and humble, forgiving and happy. The

War Museum I could never forget: in it of itself was nothing grand, but all it spoke seemed to be coming straight from a memorable agony filled with dry hardships and harsh losses to what we thought was a civilized world today. The pictures, the tanks, the army, the flags, the guns, the artillery, the memories—all so real, and I can’t find the feelings to describe it. Simply, a real experience was revealed in this simple place. The baby in the bottle—I still see it now.
Not to mention, the ChiChi tunnels- uhh, so hot. I was in it at one point with Evy’s butt in my face. I was sweating, I was disgusting, I was dirty, I was wet- EWW- the thought of it makes me itch, but fills me with the loneliness and darkness of war-images and what Vietnam had to do to finally succeed in this long-drawn out battle for their—what exactly, maybe not a good enough answer.

Saigon market! I’m kind of worried I got diseases from this place. The ladies were grabbing my hand as if feeling my body. Heartfelt yearns to get me to buy something, just anything, was evident of course that at several points I felt no need to bargain, because Yaum was doing all the bargaining for her products! But I loved them and I think they loved me too. As soon as I gave them a smile in an attempt to let them know that I respect what they are doing for me (or themselves) I earnestly felt that they were interested in who the hell I was too—“where are you from”, “what you do here”, “how old are you?” I mean this is a people who yes, want to give you their stuff because they want your money, but a society so cheerful, compassionate, and fervent it reminded me of my own Egyptian people. Night lights that keep you company, locals that walk hand in hand, little shops everywhere that invite you, and a culture that lives with a smile at the lips and in the heart no matter how rough things might get.

The Mekong Delta was the bomb. The highlight of my voyage, I learned most about Vietnam, the people, my people, my friends, and even myself from the excursion to the delta! It’s amazing how we travel to Europe, Hong Kong, or Dubai and think “Oh wow, different place (oooo)”, “different people (aaaaah)”, “different everything,” when really a huge part of it is all the same—a mass of buildings and a society with jeans. Now what about those who live steps away from a river, wash their clothes in the water, let chickens and snakes run around in their gardens, and not invite anyone for their weddings because the whole village is expected to come and make the food anyway! And oh, they are not just any people really, but farmers! Skipping on the stones with the river on the one hand and the little huts on the other, I was immersed in a Vietnamese local village. I loved it, I absolutely did. It was Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!

The boat rides, uhhhhhh, the boat rides in the Mekong Delta... no words whatsoever… The breeze, the vast expanse of pure nature that lay ahead, the trees and vegetation, the waves to the locals who answered back, the games that we played, the songs that we sang, the dances that we made, the jokes that were said, the Chica BOOM BOOM bootty shakes... I felt more kid than I ever did when I was one. I forgot that that I was enrolled in a respected institution with undergraduates who attended some business classes in suits. I forgot that I was far away from home. I forgot worries, hunger, and responsibilities. I was somewhere else, la-la land, with everything I could ever dream of within my reach—friends, water, nature, and a whole lot of games to play, with so much more to see.

What about our nights? To keep things straightforward, they were as colorful as could be. Some people really brought out their true selves—a lot of NEVER-HAVE-I-EVER game playing and confession hearing and Chica Boom Boom on-the-bed playing. My personal favorites! Along with some other things of course… Oh, the French guy incident screaming in the face of—I won’t say who—he obviously hated loud Americans; he couldn’t go to sleep.

Quote- Brian: “Saacrebleuuu, can we just have WORLD PEACE?” My gut ached so hard from laughing at that I thought I would suffocate, I love you Brian!

Another quote- Leann: As Kris was admiring Leann’s suite (which is beautiful on her—damn) he told her “You’re getting me ready to do some work!” She replied walking away (and oh it was sooooo well said), “Yeaaa…….. but I’m not sure if you can handle it!” Oh yeah Leann, I love you!

Vietnam was awesome- people, places, food, and Viet! Viet, our tour guide, was as good as they get. I’m so glad his name is Viet because there is no way I could forget the name of the person responsible for guiding us through the best trip of (VIET) nam ever!