She's the Lost Saudi's Princess

Amara's POV Manila, Philippines Tears welled in my eyes as I hug Mama Betty tightly. The humid Manila air felt thick with unshed emotions. Today is the day. I am leaving for Dubai. "Mag-iingat ka doon, anak," Mama whispered, her voice raspy from the illness that was slowly stealing her away. (Take care of yourself there, child.) "Opo, Mama. I promise. you take care too. Follow all the doctor's instructions, okay? This job... this is for you. We'll get you the best treatment." My voice wavered, but I forced myself to smile. The international school in Dubai offered me a teaching position with a salary that was more than I could have ever dreamed of earning back home. It is our only hope. Mama Betty’s eyes searched mine, a mixture of pride and worry in their depths. "Alam ko, anak. Alam ko. You're a good daughter, Mara. God will bless you." (I know, child. I know. You're a good daughter, Mara. God will bless you.) My hand tightened around the strap of my worn-out backpack. It held everything I owned – a few changes of clothes, my teaching certificates, and a small, framed photo of Mama and me, taken years ago when she was still strong and healthy. I blinked back the tears, kailangan kong magpakatatag (I need to be strong). For Mama. The taxi pulled up to the curb. I took one last look at our small, humble house, the place where I had spent my entire life. Paalam, Pilipinas. (Goodbye, Philippines.) .............. At the airport, I went through security in a daze, my mind replaying Mama's words, her smile, her frail touch. I clutched the rosary beads my Mama gave me, whispering a silent prayer for a safe journey and for Mama’s healing. Dubai, United Arab Emirates Dubai was a sensory overload. The shimmering heat, the opulent architecture, the cacophony of languages - it was overwhelming, exhilarating, and terrifying all at once. Para akong napunta sa ibang mundo! (I feel like I've gone to another world!). The international school had arranged for an apartment, a small but modern space in a bustling part of the city. Exhausted but determined, I unpacked, placing Mama's photo on the bedside table. Her smiling face was a beacon of hope in this strange, new land. ............ My first day at the school was a blur of introductions, orientations, and curriculum overviews. The staff was welcoming, a mix of nationalities and backgrounds. I met Ms. Davies, the headmistress, a stern but fair woman who seemed to genuinely care about the students. I also met Omar, a young and enthusiastic Arabic teacher, who offered to help me navigate the local culture. ............ One evening, after a particularly long day of lesson planning, I decided to treat myself to dinner at a small Egyptian restaurant near my apartment. The aroma of kushari and ful medames filled the air, a comforting reminder of home-cooked meals. As I sat at a small table, savoring the delicious food, I felt a pair of eyes on me. I looked up and saw a man watching me from across the room. He was handsome, undeniably so, with a captivating smile that made my heart skip a beat. Oh. "Sino kaya 'to?" (Who could this be?) He had a kind face, but there was also an air of confidence, of quiet power, about him. He began to walk towards my table, and I nervously fiddled with my fork, suddenly self-conscious. What should I say? What should I do? He was getting closer... He stopped at the table next to mine, smiling warmly at the elderly woman sitting there. Oh ano Mara?! Feelingera ka kase! (Oh, what now, Mara?! You’re so full of yourself!) He spoke to her in Arabic, his voice a low, melodic rumble. They chatted for a few minutes, and then he excused himself and walked back towards the kitchen. I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. Sayang! Akala ko ako ang tinitignan! Napaka-ambisyosa ko naman kasi! (What a pity! I thought he was looking at me! How ambitious of me!). I chuckled to myself, a little embarrassed by my own fantasies. He probably hadn't even noticed me, or if he had, he probably thought I was just another tourist. I refocused on my kushari, trying to ignore the lingering warmth of where I thought his gaze might have been. "Hay naku, Mara! Focus sa pagkayod para kay Mama!" (Oh dear, Mara! Focus on working hard for Mama!). Fast. Forward. Days turned into weeks, and I settled into a routine. Teaching was challenging, but rewarding. My students were bright and eager to learn, and I found joy in sharing my love of literature with them. I missed Mama terribly, we spoke on the phone every evening, and her voice, though still weak, sounded a little stronger each time. The doctor in Manila had started her on a new medication, and we were praying it would make a difference. ............. I often found myself thinking about the handsome man from the Egyptian restaurant. I hadn't seen him again, but I couldn't shake the memory of his kind eyes and that captivating smile. "Ano ba yan, Mara? Assuming ka na naman!" (What is that, Mara? You're assuming again!). I scolded myself. But I couldn't help but feel a little flutter of excitement whenever I walked past the restaurant. ............. One Saturday, I decided to explore the Gold Souk, a traditional market filled with glittering jewelry and precious stones. The sheer extravagance of it all was overwhelming. I wandered through the narrow alleyways, marveling at the intricate designs and the boisterous energy of the vendors. As I was admiring a particularly stunning necklace, I bumped into someone. I stumbled, dropping my small purse onto the cobblestone street. "Ay, sorry po!" (Oh, sorry!) I exclaimed, bending down to pick it up. "Allow me," a familiar voice said. I looked up and my heart skipped a beat. Standing before me, with my purse in his hand, was the handsome man from the Egyptian restaurant. He was even more striking up close, his eyes sparkling with warmth and amusement. "It's you," he said, his smile widening. "From the restaurant. Amara, wasn't it?" I nodded, speechless. Totoo ba 'to? (Is this real?). "Yes," I managed to say. "And you're...?" "Karim," he said, handing me my purse. "Karim Al-Masri. It's a pleasure to see you again, Amara." Karim. So, that was his name. A nice name. Wait a minute... how did he know my name? My eyebrows furrowed. I hadn't told him my name at the restaurant, had I? Teka muna... paano niya nalaman ang pangalan ko? Bakit parang kilala niya ako? (Wait a minute... how did he know my name? Why does it seem like he knows me?) My mind raced, trying to recall if I had accidentally dropped my ID or mentioned my name to someone nearby. It is probably just a coincidence, right? Dubai is a small world, after all. Still, a tiny seed of unease began to sprout in my mind. I forced a smile, trying to ignore the nagging feeling that something was slightly off. "It's nice to see you too, Karim," I said, trying to sound casual. "Small world, huh?" He chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Indeed. What brings you to the Gold Souk, Amara? Looking for something special?" "Just window shopping," I replied, gesturing to the glittering displays. "It's all so beautiful, but a little out of my price range." Hindi ako prinsesa para makabili ng mga 'yan! (I'm not a princess to be able to buy those!) The thought flitted through my mind, a fleeting reminder of my humble background. Karim's gaze softened. "There's beauty in simplicity too, Amara. Sometimes, the most precious things in life are the ones that money can't buy." His words resonated with me. I thought of Mama, her unwavering love and strength, the sacrifices she had made for me. Those were the things that truly mattered. "You're right," I said, my voice softer now. "Family, health... those are the real treasures." We stood there for a moment, lost in our own thoughts, the bustling chaos of the Gold Souk fading into the background. It felt like we were the only two people in the world. "Perhaps," Karim said, breaking the silence, "Would you allow me to buy you a cup of coffee? There's a lovely little cafe just around the corner. Inshallah, the coffee will be good." I hesitated for a moment. Is this a date? Am I ready for this? Ano ba 'tong pinasok ko? (What have I gotten myself into?). But there was something about Karim, something genuine and kind, that drew me in. "Okay," I said, my heart fluttering. As we walked towards the cafe, Karim turned to me, a curious glint in his eyes. "If you don't mind me asking, what do you do here in Dubai? I have the feeling you're not a tourist." - Karim "I'm a teacher," I said, a little surprised he hadn't asked sooner. "At the international school nearby." Karim's eyes widened slightly. "A teacher! Ma sha'Allah. That's wonderful!" He paused, then smiled warmly. "I feel like I've seen you before... at my restaurant, perhaps?" -Karim I blushed, remembering the other night. "Yes," I admitted. "I ate there a few days ago. The kushari was delicious." Karim chuckled. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. I am trying to bring a little piece of Egypt to Dubai." -Karim Ba't ba ang sexy ng dating nya? Eh? Tahimik Mara! (Why does he look so sexy? Huh? Be quiet, Mara!) We arrived at the cafe, a charming little place tucked away from the bustling crowds. The aroma of coffee and spices filled the air, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere. Karim led me to a table in a quiet corner and signaled to the waiter. As we sat down, Karim leaned forward, his gaze intense. "So, Amara, tell me about yourself. What brings a beautiful Filipina teacher to Dubai?" -Karim I hesitated for a moment, unsure how much to reveal to a stranger. But there was something about Karim, a genuine warmth and compassion, that made me feel comfortable opening up. "Well," I began, "I'm here to teach English at the international school. And... to earn money to help my mother. She's sick, and we need to pay for her treatment." Karim's expression softened with sympathy. "Allah yshafiha." (May God heal her). He paused. "What is she suffering from, if you don't mind me asking?" "She has a heart condition," I said quietly. "She needs surgery, but it's very expensive. That's why I came to Dubai, to try and earn enough money to save her life." Karim nodded, his eyes filled with understanding. "Family is everything," he said, his voice sincere. "I understand your dedication, Amara. I admire it." He paused, studying my face. "You know, you have beautiful features... almost... Arabic, in a way. Have you ever been told that before?" I laughed, surprised by his observation. "Really? No, never. I'm Filipina, through and through." I paused, thinking about my heritage. "Although... my grandmother on my mother's side had very fair skin and light eyes. We always said she looked a bit like a Kastila (Spaniard), maybe that's what you're seeing?" Karim shrugged, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Or perhaps there is more to your story than you know, habibti." (my dear). He smiled, a warm, genuine smile that made my heart flutter. "But that is a story for another time, inshallah." (God willing). The waiter arrived with our coffees, small cups filled with a dark, fragrant brew. We sipped in silence for a moment, the rich flavor filling my senses. "So," Karim said, breaking the silence, "what do you think of Dubai so far?, are you enjoying your time here?" "It's... different," I said, searching for the right words. "It's beautiful and exciting, but also a little overwhelming. I miss my family, my friends... my old life." "It takes time to adjust," Karim said, his voice soothing. "But I hope you will come to love Dubai. It has much to offer. And who knows," he added with a playful glint in his eyes, "maybe I can show you some of the hidden gems that only a local would know." We talked for hours that evening, about everything and nothing. I learned that Karim had come to Dubai from Egypt to start his own business, that he was passionate about food and hospitality, and that he missed his family back home. He, in turn, listened intently as I talked about my life in the Philippines, my dreams of becoming a successful teacher, and my worries about Mama Betty's health. As the night deepened, the city lights twinkling like stars, Karim walked me back to my apartment. At the door, he paused, his eyes searching mine "I had a wonderful time today, Amara," he said, his voice soft. "Thank you for sharing your story with me." "Me too, Karim," I replied, my heart pounding in my chest. "Thank you for the coffee... and the conversation." He smiled, a slow, captivating smile that sent shivers down my spine. "Perhaps," he said, "we could do this again sometime? Maybe next week?" "Sure!" I said, my voice barely a whisper. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against my cheek. "Until then," he murmured, and then, before I could react, he gently brushed his lips against my forehead. God! It's my first time! I stood there, frozen in place, long after he had gone, my hand touching the spot where his lips had been. "Ano ba 'yan, Mara? Kinikilig ka?!" (What is that, Mara? You're getting all giddy!?) I couldn't deny it. I am falling for Karim Al-Masri! And I had a feeling that he was falling for me too. Shit! Napaka ambisyosa mo Mara! Grabe ang bilis ng nga pangyayari! (s**t! You’re so ambitious, Mara! Wow, everything is happening so fast!) All I knew was that in that moment, standing in the warm Dubai night, I felt a flicker of hope, a sense that maybe, just maybe, I had found something special. (To be continued...)