The sound was deafening as the engines from the 747 whirred up to full velocity. My heart was pounding waiting for the lift of the plane to make my ears pop, but it turned out to be an engine test. The plane began to taxi down the runway and I began to run some important tests of my own on the touch screen that was fixed into the seat in front of me. Announcements in Arabic started over the loudspeaker after which the English translation followed. “Bismillah,” the pilot began to say a prayer before take-off. The Boeing accelerated steadily, cruising at 917 kilometers and hour, and the city lights of New York became a blur. I squeezed the gum pack that my Aunt gave to me in the airport. In an instant I was airborne and heading clear across the world to the Arabian Peninsula, the birthplace of civilization.

The Kingdom of Saudi Arabia is the largest country in the Arabian Peninsula and it occupies an area about the size of the United States east of the Mississippi River. My flight was landing in Riyadh, the capital city and my future home. The Bartnicki’s, my next store neighbors, were worried that I was moving to a desolate desert land to live in a tent in the middle of nowhere. That was the farthest from the truth as Saudi Arabia’s population is 27 million, including 8.4 million foreign residents. Mrs. Bartnicki asked me to send her a postcard once I settled in. Since Saudi Arabia’s geography is diverse, I was sure I could find a postcard with pictures of it’s forests, grasslands, mountain ranges and, of course, deserts. Mrs. Bartnicki is likely to be shocked.

My thoughts began to wander. I hadn’t seen my father in two months. Well, not in person anyway. Face-time was our only source of family time and I looked forward to beaming my father into the living room of our Connecticut home every night. Thoughts of those two months were now faded memories as I sat in the blue adjustable armchair with my seatbelt clicked firmly over my lap. “As-saheefa?” said the lady dressed in a blue uniform with a French beret that included a veil that covered her hair. “Newspaper?” she repeated as she struggled to push a tiny silver cart carrying the news through the aisle that was it’s exact width. The woman right across from me jumped on the offer and perused the gigantic newspapers that were thoughtfully arranged on the trolley. She pulled out an enormous sized Arab News and unfolded in lengthwise and then peeled back it’s first page to reveal a gray poster with Arabic written all over it. She opened her arms as wide as they could go to keep the paper from flopping over. One hand was suspended in the aisle and one hand was in the face of the lady with the sparkly hijab sitting next to her.

The air was blowing fiercely out of the vents above my seat. My contacts started to grasp my pupils the way I had held my gum pack during take-off. “Please don’t pop out,” I thought as I closed my eyes tight to stop the cold air assault. I did not plan to visit the restroom at all during the 12 hour flight, not for any reason. Thinking of the bacteria that lived in that bathroom scared me to tears. Just what I needed! The very thing that saved my poor dry eyes from expelling the sheath that helped them to see clearly.

Time flew, literally, as it was time for breakfast. The aroma of eggs, pancakes, croissants and home-fries filled the air as all the passengers popped out their food trays from the chairs in front of them. Plunk! My hot breakfast arrived. My stomach welcomed the food and I ate quickly staring at the estimated time of arrival. One hour and twenty minutes left to Riyadh. Butterflies in my stomach joined the food that I had just consumed. The countdown began as the clocked ticked down to the single digit numbers. The seatbelt sign flashed and I scrambled to find it lost in the edges on my seat. Click! That was the sound of my life that changed in the blink of an eye. I was now living in The Kingdom of Saudi Arabia.