AS FAR as anyone knew, however, Isagani David, a contract worker from Sorsogon who was working for the Saudi Consolidated Electric Company, was not among such OFWs.

David was picked up by two police officers around one o'clock in the morning in October 1998. He was on his way home from a game of chess at a friend's house. Fifteen minutes later, David was brought to the AI-Alaya General Hospital dead, his hands tied with plastic strips.

Hospital records on the cause of David's death were not available. There was also no autopsy done, although the body was held frozen in the hospital's morgue for more than a month.

The police officers were arrested, although they were later released after claiming that David accidentally died when he struggled to free himself from the grasp of the arresting officers. The policemen claimed that David "fell forward" and hit the ground, causing his death.

But the Filipino community in the Kingdom believed that the policemen killed David after he refused their advances. David was described by friends as "good looking," the type that gay men wanted to have as partners.

I don't think it was a story that ever made it to the papers here, but those of us in Saudi Arabia pondered over David's tragedy for days. At the very least, it gave us something to occupy ourselves with, especially during the long stretches of empty hours we had in between work. With no bars, no discos, no movie houses, not even churches to go to, often there were just our rooms, which soon felt very, very small.

With a lot of time to kill, one could turn melodramatic, religious, or kinky. But with the second option hard to carry out in Saudi Arabia unless you happen to be Muslim, there really are just two choices left. If you're a Filipino male, there is just one.

One old-timer of an OFW volunteered the information that "some women are selling themselves cheap." At the time, the going rate for a night of clandestine fun ranged from 300 to 500 Saudi riyals, which was then equivalent to P3,300 to P5,500. Friends also confided that airline attendants "cost more" than domestic helpers, dressmakers, and illegal aliens.

For those who had no money to spare but were not content with the "lotion solution," a relationship was easy to be had, both for men and women. A woman domestic helper I met at the Philippine consulate called me up at my office one day when she learned that I was about to go home for a vacation. She asked me to buy her a pair of panties and a bra. The "sexy type," she said.

"One that you would like to see me wearing," she added. When I asked in jest if she wanted me to put them on her, she said, "Sure." I bought the underwear she wanted but I never got to see her wear them.

I've been home for the last seven years. I don't think I'd want to work in Saudi Arabia again. These days some friends who are still in the Kingdom say they pass their time in front of computer monitors, having virtual sex with their wives or girlfriends. But Net access can cost quite a bit. Then again, there are still the pirated pornographic movies, kinky letters from home, and the ever-reliable tubes of Jergens.