My top strengths include project management, systems integration, application development, and upstream oilfield management consulting. See resumé for more details…

Click here to download my resumé in PDF format.

And they were parading right down the area where I’m working! That says a lot. BSP is at the center of the universe with regards to applied oil and gas information technology. After all, BSP received the Shell technology partner of the year award and it has proved to be a successful grounds for digital oilfield world 1sts due to the Sultan’s funding, technology uptake, and because of people’s willingness to take innovative risks to drive business improvement.

Followed by a couple of keynote speeches televised by Radio Television Brunei, the sultan graced the halls as his hands landed on the lips of thousands of employees greeting him with utmost humility. I shook the hand of royalty and that was a nice moment for me. The sultan’s physique reflects peak fitness for a man in his sixties. It was striking in beauty to see a successful empire built on the principles of Islam, led by Muslims from the very top to the working class. I’m really glad to be a part of such a movement.

11:30pm decided to go with my Tunisian partner Riadh to supervise the pumping job on the rig in Seria (country of Brunei). Got in full armor PPE (personal protective equipment) and rode out into the night like a headless ghost on a horse charging through the unforgiving rain. Men in orange jumpsuits, like aliens from another planet…or janitors attending to work.

On the way in the blur of the globules of rain I squinted my eyes and saw I was dashing through Alief Clodine road in southwest Houston, Texas. There’s Elsik High School, there’s the church, and this is the narrow road humped with a ditch on both sides. It was the most credible deja vu I have ever slipped into. I was happy for a minute.

After passing the housing complex, the fire station, and the last touches of humanity, we came across a symphony of bright lights piercing the sky like a nebulous of stars in the distance. As we drove nearer, it become apparent it was like stumbling upon a great empire in the game Red Alert. A creation of man you feel threatened by its sheer imposing grandeur and visual complexities with silos here, compressors there, and processing plants there too impressive to be humble. It is a major refining terminal dressed from head to toe with infinite pipes and steel workings. It was SCOT: The Seria Crude Oil Terminal where all the oil coming out of the ground gets processed before distribution. Colossal oil silos scattered containing the precious keepsake farmed from the ground; you had kerosene, light crude, and mixed reformates, organized for export. These are storage tanks; gigantic white containers mushroomed around the facility.

Overlooking the munchkins was the lord of all, the king of the evil bunch, roaring with his Flames flaring heat like piping lava on a black canvas of the night. This is the natural gas excess which is burned off before being blown out in the atmosphere. The reason we have flaring in an oilfield is because we are pumping in the ground too much gas and the compressors that are compressing the gas to be injected subsurface cannot handle the overdealt quantities. Flaring is bad and it’s part of every Operation team’s KPIs (key performance indicators) to knock it out. That was a taste of Downstream which is the oil and gas sector that deals with refining, marketing, distribution, and logistics.

That being now in our rear view mirrors, all of a sudden we slow down and take a turn in the thief of the night to enter the forest. We turn left into nothingness but a dirt road newly forged and as we tread deeper, we are taking lefts and rights guided by our headlights shining through the debris. It’s like passing through a cemetery and the tombstones being the Christmas trees. (Christmas trees are oil wellheads sticking out of the ground with valves and controls. Ask wikipedia why the funky name.) Like ghostly spirits, the nodding donkeys ploughed the fields like pendulums in a hypnotic fix. Nodding donkeys are the names of the old oil pumps that go up and down literally pumping oil out of the ground. They’re called that because that’s what they look like, with its big “head” bobbing up and down.

At this point, my heart is pulsing like a drum undulating with every foot as we got closer to that big lighthouse in the distance. This was the creation of man to harness the crude creation of God. This was the cause of bloody warfare, the destruction of heritage in Iraq, the foreign policy of a failure Bush administration. This in my eyes like the mega sciences of space exploration; upon us was earth exploration and razing and drilling the earth with fierceness and every country with greed; one reservoir underneath your sultanate and you have airports, a military, and a GDP none to mess with unless you are the Middle East. How man has fought and elbowed and anchored his way so deep in the earth through research, engineering, and the application of chemical, mechanical, electrical, and civil engineering is a feat I am glad to be a part of in this century during my lifetime. It’s a tribute to the genius of mankind with dedication, patience and teamwork by the grace of God’s letting.

The real Ruler of the Universe in this land was high and mighty with his arms crossed breaking the calm horizon. The T-201 Deutag rig summoned slaves like us night and day to attend to its feet. Employing 95% of Brunei and a chunk of expats like ourselves, this was where all the drilling and well completion work came together. This is Upstream world, involving getting oil out of the ground.

We bowed into this facility by signing in to the safety booth giving up our wedding rings and other hazardous personal effects. Then we made our way into the portacabin blast-proof rig site office to check where we are on pumping. I’ll explain. My boots splashing into the cement, mud, or rain, we ushered through until we reached a Halliburton portacabin. There’s got to be a better name; instead it was like a steel heavy duty tank cabin. Deafened by the machinings overhead we entered the job control room to speak with the Operators.

Inside I learned we are performing a Gravel Pack sand control job. We were working on a well that was just freshly drilled and doing pre-completion work to set up the tubes and casing underneath the ground as part of the well’s structure. Sorry I cannot give you a visual aid here. The objective of this job is to prevent retrieving sand instead of oil when we turn the well on. The procedure is common and it is one that we pump brine and thick sand into the well casing after applying a sand screen. The sand that is pumped in stops at the filter of the ultra fine micro-porous sand screen. The brine water that is stewarded in courteously exits and is sucked back to the surface to be pumped out of the well.

Rest assured we were 60% done pumping brine and sand in the earth and we were happy with the progress of the job. We signed out and with the mark of putting on our wedding bands, we entered civilian life again. We headed back in the calm of the night each to our own to the treat of a warm shower. That’s a glimpse into my life. Now you can say you’ve been to an oilfield in Brunei.

This is the official Southeast Asia Tour. We have some crazy things planned so stay wired for pictures to come. I’m going to be updating this blog now more often to keep my family and friends updated.

Slipper merchants, people under cars fixing them in the middle of the roads, umbrellas to protect from heat and rain. Only 2 seasons here – hot season and rainy season. I think we are in both now. Bad time to be here as elections are coming up in 1 month and a lot of political and military tension. GSM shops to Pimp and Unlock your GSM. Buy Your Kerosene Here painted in army stencil font on a dumpster. Call Your Plumber and a phone number scratched on a cardboard sign. Busy streets with stares provoking us in our prissy oil & gas company bus escorted by a convoy on each side. People plowing fields with sickles! Muscles all over.

You can get anything here. You don’t even have to get down from your car; you pull up and the vegetable merchant comes to you and you can pick and ask for things from your vehicle window; query to cash. Old 1980 Benzes, demolished cars left and right, barbed wire brick walls around facilities. Harsh accents – clear and firm, people speak with undaunted confidence. I feel like I’m going to get a bullet at any minute. Oh, it’s only a couple of weeks…

Weather is a hot 85 degrees – I’m in safari clothes, just imagine. Got my bags and mobile e-mail access. Cell phone works. First thing I saw on stepping out after the escorts was a masjid and a church right next to each other on the near horizon. Allahu akbar, many Muslims in colorful outfits here! I am listening to Bob Marley in this Jamaica-esque minibus. Memories…miss you all!

The people are very innocent and detached from the outside world.Wherever you go, there is a small town feel to the place. The taxi drivers are very devout and peaceful and loving. You see, Omanis are not really stout, outspoken, arrogant, or lavish like other Gulf inhabitants may seem. Still, Omanis display their pride through the way they dress, the respect they show to their elders, and their village affinities.

Everyone speaks good English. People are really peaceful and open to Western ideas, but they do not rush to adopt them with blind passion as you may see in Beirut, for example. What I mean by ‘open’ is that they are not sold to misunderstood Islamic ideals that are very secular and unopen to the international world. That goes a long way for an Islamic state coming up quickly.

It is for this reason that I say that Oman has earns its gate to the international business world. Omanis language, food, tolerance, people, permitting government, natural resources, easy visa process, peaceful terrains, internet and 3G phone network infrastructure make it very inviting for foreign investments. Oman is rife with oil – Petroleum Development Oman practically builds the country, well for well. The place is growing by leaps and bounds. We tried to book a hotel and we had to go to nine hotels before finding a vacancy. Even the streets are packed – the city of Muscat can’t contain itself – it’s like the infrastructure is dated already compared to the growth the city is experiencing. A new airport is being built in addition to Seeb International. It’s funny to see a small town grow. The perversions that it will learn will be horrible. Oh, the innocence it will lose…if only it could remain.

Ok, positive note. It’s unbelievable that in one of the hottest countries of the world there are beautiful beaches that make for beautiful getaways. Diving in Oman is a fantastic thing to do on the weekends. Oh, and did I forget the seafood in Oman is the best I have ever had in my life. Do try the prawns, King Fish, and calamari…

My conclusion on Oman is that it has a unique position in the Gulf, as compared to the overtowering empires of the Emirates nearby. Oman remains the peaceful, serene, innocent getaway – a fast competitive advantage and key differentiator. On the contrary, Dubai is hustling and bustling and overflowing with hype, style, energy, and pushing the edge to create the next world’s biggest this or that. Oman is not that. Oman is a counter-balance and is here to stay and flourish slowly. Because that’s the way Oman does it. And rightfully so, it is an adorable place to escape to.