Ah well...maybe it was all supposed to mean something

It's 19:07 Copenhagen time or 20:07 local time. I am at the Manama Airport in Bahrain.

After my 15 minutes anger fit, I sat down in quiet Stansted Airport for a coffee. I was looking at all the young people sleeping on the floor and some brought sleeping bags too. In my uni days, I would never hesitate to do the same. But I guess, it's sign that I have aged. Now, I simply demand more. I checked the prices at the Radisson hotel close-by. GBP125 for the night. That's a thousand DKK! OK...maybe I demand much more but am too cheapskate to pay.

As I was contemplating my options, a lady with a tudung said "Hi". She's obviously Malaysian malay. We began to chat. She was very nice and very wise. Her husband joined us and we had a good chat. He said to me "maybe you will find soemthing good out of this situation". I wish there were more people who could meet muslims like them. Then people would not be so quick to judge.   

It made me cognited how easy it is for hot tempered me to be brought down emotionally. I realized that my "predicament" should not bring me down further. So I got online and found a few options. Isn't it great to have choices? And good choices at that! Ok...so I lost DKK2000 but things could have been worse.

The option which was most tempting at 4:00 in the morning was to take a bus to Cambridge and spend a day sight seeing with my friend Kell then catch the 18:00 flight from Stansted. But then where would I spend the night sleeping? Another option would be to find an earliest flight to KL.

I called my aunt in KL. Lo and behold, she found me a flight! I rushed to the ticket counter to catch the 5:30 coach to Heathrow. It was cold outside at the bus station. No 21 was yet to be seen. I sought warmth at the waiting area. Tried to get a cup of tea but no credit cards accepted. Boo hoo.

Good thing the bus came promptly at 5:15. The journey was surprisingly pleasant. I dozed off occasionally but wake up from a bump. Had my iPod on playing some soothing music. It was during this trip that I started to wonder if this whole "predicament" is supposed to mean something. Not that I wished for any plane crashes. It is just that I actually enjoyed the morning ride in the bus to Heathrow. I saw the sunset from the bus.

Heathrow was filled with people at 7:00 when I arrived. It was a piece of cake checking in at the Gulf Air counter. I love their "I Dream Of Jeannie" costumes on the stewardesses. Part kinky, part funny.  :-D I had forgotten how old Heathrow Airport is. It was ike back to the 70s. I had two hours waiting time before boarding. I was so sleepy by then that I slept with my arms locked around my handbag and my legs grasped the hand luggage tightly. I woke up when the boarding announcement was made. It must've been an hour or so. I was surprised to see the crowd whom I was about to share the flight with.

I was awake enough for my curiosity to return. I started to wonder who owns Gulf Air? Since the destination is named Bahrain, I thought it was a capital of a country in the gulf. But which one? I was ashamed to know so little about the place and its people. The crowd before me was looking and dressing very Indian but some were speaking an Arabic like language. My curiosity was like an itch I could not wait to scratch. I was just checking for WiFi when it was time to board.

Shortly after boarding, I fell asleep. I guess I was more sleepy than I was curious! When I awoke, I didn't know how long we have flown and what time it was. I spent some time trying to derive the answers to these questions. I left London at....it is now 2 hours to Bahrain....

We landed at about 18:30 local time. It was 32 degrees celcius. I followed the scores of people into the airport terminal. It was no doubt I had landed in an Arab country. Most women were covered from head to toe. Most men stared at me. I was wearing my black high boots with a body hugging black dress. I tried to cover myself up with my jeans jacket. Still, I was the outsider. The only chinese looking person.

With some time to kill, I zig-zagged through the crowd and went into the nearest toilet. The Manama Airport is very small and the toilets were small too. I could not find enough space to change so I threw open my suitcase in the open toilet space by the sink. Great. I had a long summer dress and some flip flops. I began to undress to change when I saw all the other women literally staring at me. Then, I heard something in Indonesian. Two of the girls were making remarks about my semi.nudity in front of them. They concluded that I was Korean and therefore shameless. I hurried and got back out to the airport crowd.

Less people stared. Whew. I then did what most women would do in an airport. I checked out the Duty-Free shop. The prices of things were shocking. They put Copenhagen Airport prices to shame. Without any good bargains, I headed for the boarding gate.

There were many young Malaysians - a group of malay boys who were probably IT guys and some chinese guys who were probably hard labour, in Bahrain to make some quick money. I was still standing out like a sore thumb. The chinese guys discussed if I were Japanese. I understood every word since they spoke my mother tongue, cantonese.

The flight was about 8 hours. I kept myself occupied with some chick flick and more sleep. The guy sitting next to me was reading a Deloitte staff manual. "A fresh graduate", I thought to myself.

24 hours after boarding the plane at Copenhagen's Kastrup airport, I finally arrived home in KL.

Maybe the day that was was supposed to mean something? Well, at the very least, I now know where Bahrain is, what sort of country it is and it is 5 hours behind Malaysia in time and 9 hours flight away.