takas.. continued

Indeed, Marina gave me a call this morning. This time, she asked me to call her in the landline (I guess, she felt the fangs of cell phone cost).

I did not waste time. I pickup my office phone and called her in their house phone. She was alone, she said. She listened to my old antiques of making her laugh but and judging from the tone of her voice, she was not enjoying any of it. I believe she was sad and perhaps crying. So I stopped and inquired if she was feeling well. She didn't answer. She just keep silent for several minutes, but I could her was her breath and her occasional sighs.

I know she is not yet ready to talk, so I asked permission to put down the phone and promised to call her when she is ready to talk. Still no answer, I slowly put down the lever and ... returned to work.

Four hours later, she rings me again. She sounds lively and I believe she is all right. She apologizes for the drama this morning and explained that she was just not feeling and assured me that everything now was fine.

And as I eagerly expecting, we continued the yesterday's story that she left hanging.

* * * * * *

Before leaving the house, she said, she managed to pick up her hand bag which contains her passport, iqama, cell phone and some money. However, she failed to grab some clothes because the master, that time, was starting to stand up. Running short of time, she pulled the bed sheet and use it cover her body.

Inside the taxicab, her senses started to came back. She realized that she was wearing a torn shirt that exposes her breast, but she was quick to cover so as not to attract attention from the cab driver. She instructed the cabbie to take her to Danube District and drop her near the Sahara Mall.

Shocked, confused, and afraid because she was not wearing an Abaya, she grabs her phone and start punching some number. She was hoping to get in-touch with a Filipina friend who was living near the area. She got lucky she said, because the Filipina responded and promised to pick her up.

They went to a big house full of women of different nationality. She saw five other Filipina, 3 Indians/Srilankans, 2 Chinese, and 5 other Caucasian looking women. Then she was introduced to the landlady of the house - a fat old woman of Arab descent. After telling the landlady her harrowing experience, she was instructed to join with her friend in a small room. In parting, the old lady promised to help her go home to the Philippines.

Still tired, she falls asleep the whole day. At around 10pm, some noise and loud moaning coming from the next room awakened her. She carefully listens to the sound and she realized that someone was having sex on the other side. She slowly stands up and looks around. Her roommate was gone and when she peeped in the door, she saw the ladies all dress up in skimpy clothes.

She was terrified! "What is this place"?, she asked herself.

Slowly, she locked the door, went back to her bed... and started to cry. Fear was creeping all over her body, as she hears another woman screaming on the right side of the wall. She was sure that it was a Filipina because the woman was shouting a Tagalog word "wag, masakit!" Then she heard some slapping and hoarse moans from the right side of wall. She was so terrified with what she heard; sleep did not catch her the whole night. She just sat in the corner and waited for daylight.

Around 4am, the Morning Prayer call from a nearby mosque echoed all over the place. She heard people outside her room, talking, laughing, and was bidding goodbye to each other. Few minutes later, her friend came in and was looking very tired. In her friend's right hand was a small glass of sadiki (illegally made wine) and on the left hand was a small roll of money. There was no need for explainations, she said. She already realized that she run onto a prostitution den.

She planned to escape that day and hopes to reach the Philippine Embassy, but the doors were locked. Not losing hope, she went to the rooftop to find a fire exit but was not lucky. She also tried to open the windows but there were locks too.

That night, the landlady gave her a razor and asked to shave her pubic hair. She knows that there was no escaping and she will be fed to the male customers as a prostitute, but she didn't complain. Instead, she silently approached the old lady and told her that she was having menstruation. She immediately noticed the foul reaction of the old lady, who asked her to go back to her room and do not come out. (In this part of the world, women's menstruation is considered dirty and any woman having it is considered unclean and bad luck for business).