Right outside the room I shared with my roommate of six days there was a green tinted glass door that led to a little landing and six flights of white, marble stairs down to the palm covered courtyard in front of our dorm building. No one went out there except at night when they were doing something they didn't want anyone to see. I usually had it to myself to look out over the Arabian city that looks like a puzzle of gleaming, white towers sandwiched between the desert mountains and the blue water of the gulf of Satra. It was a kingdom rich with oil money and I hadn't seen anything up close past the walls.
I shared a tiny room with two single beds and two cabinets for clothes. My roommate, Adam, was also American and also on full scholarship, but he was an unfortunate looking overweight guy who kept to himself and seemed a little angry that the only engineering school to offer him this chance was on the other side of the world from home. He was also messy and disorganized and always searching for something he'd lost. I came back from class or the gym every day to find something on my small half of the small room. I'd try to fold it or stack it and put the mess back on his side. It was a losing battle.
I hadn't explored anything beyond the walls of the university. Americans weren't encouraged to go outside of it unescorted and having just turned 18 with light skin, blonde hair, blue eyes, they specifically told me it wasn't safe unless I went with the group tours. But today was my first day off since I'd landed here from Los Angeles. I was determined to explore.
The scholarship had included clothing which is a little odd. I found my cabinets stocked with two very nice pairs of running shoes, a pair of casual shoes, dress shoes, and outfits to match that were in my size. Everything from workout to formal in size small was left neatly packaged for me on my arrival. I thought it was odd back when I did my orientation at their embassy in LA, but now I was glad they had measured me. I couldn't be anything but grateful.
So how did I get here... One of their sultans had visited LA and seen my high school dance troupe perform at his welcome party. I'd been the one to present the gift to him to thank him for making a generous donation to us. Much to my embarrassment, the dance teacher had filled him in on my "unfortunate" life of losing my parents, growing up in group homes around the San Fernando Valley, and god knows what else she threw in there. She probably even told him I'd never had a girlfriend. He asked me to be his guest at his table for the dinner and he had an interpreter there signing for me. He was a pretty cool guy, but continuously gave me that look of pity.
The Monday before graduation I was called in to the counselor's office and given details of a full scholarship offer. I didn't have anything else and I thought maybe it would be interesting to see what life was like not being known as the poor, pitiful blonde boy.
So now I'm here and I wanted to see the sights. It's supposed to be 44 degrees today according to the paper. That's celsius which I don't really get, but I know it's uber hot. I dressed in the white shorts that went down to my knees and a sleeveless white shirt. I put on a TON of sunscreen and gathered the small money I had saved from my welcome packet. All of the meals were included here, and I don't really like food anyway so I hadn't spent anything at the campus store except buying a sketchbook and some colored pencils.
There is a big gate right behind my dorm, and then a small gate with a guard. He put his hand up as I tried to walk through and said something that I didn't understand. I gave a confused look and raised my palms to which he shook his head and waved me through. Outside the gate there is a little road that leads down to a big shopping street I had watched from the landing. I walked down as many blocks of it as I could while dodging into shadows to avoid the blazing sun.
Everything in this city, or at least this area, was new construction with expensive marble, steal, exotic tile. Every store had some famous label with big glass windows filled with luxury items from around the world. The street was lined with expensive cars and oversized SUV's. These people had money and liked to show it.
Californians should have tans, but I don't tan, I burn. My skin is pretty pale with very light blonde hair and faint blue eyes. So sunblock was something I always grew up with. I'm pale, but pale is better than scorched. I was getting used to being looked at by the occasional person around the university, but out here in public it was a little more intense.
I ducked into the shade of a coffee shop and pushed back my sweaty blonde hair. I must have walked farther than I'd planned and I felt my cheeks getting burned. I looked in the window and saw that they had iced drinks and thought maybe I'd sit for awhile before I headed back. The air conditioning was blasting as I walked in and the place was half-filled with business men on laptops and teenagers on their phones. I don't have either, but I like to people watch.
I got up to the counter and realized that the entire menu board was in arabic. There were a few pictures of different beverages, but nothing written in English except the numbers. The waiter gave me a weird look and then said something. I pointed to the picture showing a green cup with ice and a few kiwi slices around it and gave a big, dumb smile. I hoped those were kiwis. He held up two cup sizes and I pointed to the smaller one on the right. He punched some numbers into the cash register and turned the little display around so I could see he wanted 3. I pulled out a bill that had a 5 on it and handed it to him with a smile.
I was feeling relieved at getting through this situation, but then he pointed at my money and shook his head no and opened his mouth very wide like he was yelling. He looked at me like I was a complete idiot. I started looking around. I had no idea what was going on or why he didn't want the money. I started to turn to go, but I felt a solid hand on my shoulder.
He had on a black dress shirt with a grey tie. He was just a little taller than me, but solid muscle. I felt small as he closed in on me and stood a little too close behind me. He opened his mouth like he was talking to me, and gave a warm smile. I shook my head no and lowered my eyes. I wanted to get out of there and run all the way back to my room. I left the 5 note on the counter and started to walk away, but I saw the hand appear on my chest. He nudged me back against the counter and I smelled a little too much of a masculine cologne. The dude was built like an ox. I stared at his rolex and tried to think of a way out of this.
He put a finger under my chin and raised my head up to look him in the eye. He was a pretty good looking guy with large, brown eyes, a strong nose, tightly trimmed black facial hair around his mouth. His black hair was shaved close on the sides but grown out on top and gelled up in a messy look that probably took an hour to figure out. Everything about him said money, muscles, power, education. He flashed a gentle smile that lit up his dark face and then put his hand up as if to tell me to wait. He took his wallet from his back pocket and handed some different colored notes to the waiter and slipped my five note into the side pocket of my shorts. His hand lingered there, holding my hip. A worker from the back brought up my green drink and the guy nudged me back toward his table. It was half invitation and more insistent push.
We sat and he started trying to talk to me again. I put my hand up and then pointed at my chest and then at my ears to tell him I was deaf. He gave me a sideways look of curiosity. I pointed at his laptop and he nodded and pushed it towards me. He had some email open and I typed out, "ME DEAF." I slid it back to him and his whole demeanor changed. His lips spread into a huge smile and his eyes lit up again. That smile. It made me feel safe.
He moved over to sit beside me and opened up a word file and typed:
