Last night, in Wednesday divan, a dear friend; Saeed Bin Karaz related the news of his first trip abroad; Saeed never left his country since he came t...o know the world. The trip was to Romania; the country of the gorgeous RoxandaPopawith her emerald eyes who was crowned Miss Universe in 2008; the country of Nikita Romania; the lioness and captor of the hearts of men; the land of Nadia Comaneci, the heroin whose beauty and agility blow the world’s mind; for she gathered more Olympics gold medallions than those gathered by the whole Arab world since the games were inaugurated in the 6th century B.C.
Saeed went to say: the moment I sat in the plane I felt a crunch of thirst, just like that: severe thirst, and after takeoff, the stewardess served different sorts of drinks. I told her: “I want water please”, she gave me sparkling water which I tasted for the first time and it wasunpleasant. I told her: give me that red juice, which was the only thing left on the tray. The color reminded me of “Vimto”; the drink that is common in our western region of Abu Dhabi. After a couple of sips, I exclaimed: “This is far more delicious that our drink!”. I asked her for more till I winded up guzzling four or five glasses; I can’t remember. I felt numb and lightheaded and a sudden euphoria made me imagine the ugly girl next to me to be Nadia Comaneci.
I wondered if the lightness and numbness were caused by atmospheric pressure and when the craft landed I barely managed to compose myself while swinging down its stair. I arrived safely at the hotel and swiftly went out to the heart of the capital Bucharest; I won’t waste time on such an occasion. I was in disbelief while wondering the streets of the “Paris of the East” or “Little Paris” as it was named; the city of culture and art. I sneaked into a garden close by and glimpsed young men holding their girls on seats overlooking the lake; it’s a sight I never came across before. One of the boys was insatiably devouring the lips of a girl as if it was candy and another boy licking the cheeks of his girlfriend like a cone of ice cream. I was stunned: this is something unheard of in our conservative country where women are like unrevealing mobile vaults not urging one’s inner gaugesto start ticking measuring age or gender measuring.
I noticed a girl sitting lonely in front of the lake. The enchanted juice of the aircraft was granting me unfamiliar boldness and determination. So I dashed towards that seat where she waswandering reading a book. I sat on the far end and started nudging towards her, towards the piece of delicious white marble. I don’t know how I came to wrap my arm around her when she spoke to me without pushing my hand away from her waist. Alas, I didn’t know Romanian and she didn’t know Arabic. I addressed her with my cracked English; the miserable English we were taught in elementary classes; she didn’t understand.
Suddenly, while I still have my arm around her waist, I glimpsed a dark muscular giant heading straight towards me with a body engraved with tattoos from neck to toe. I panicked and swiftly plunged into speculations of him being her husband, brother, father or next of kin. I prayed reciting the two declarations of faith (Al Shahadatein) and said to myself: “Your time has come Saeed, in Bucharest, in the country of RoxandaPopa, before youtaste her tongue or even behold her from a distance”. When he stood rigid in front of me like a power post, I ordered my frozen arm to pull away from the girl’s slim waist, my arm declined. It might be the “Vimto” that gave me the power and audacity to ask: “What?”. I was astonished that the bloke spoke Arabic with a cracked accent when he said: “Welcome to Bucharest”. Upon exclaiming: “Who are you?”, “What do you want?”, he said: “The Fee, Sir”. Oh! he is the Pimp! I calmed down and regained the ability to breathe.