Clean Up!

November 5, 2014

10606063_1527783407463065_227292540332011506_nClean up time. I moved in/out about two weeks ago -wait, no, only a few days ago. Yes, it’s true time does fly (or rather it moves extremely slowly?). I still remember flying on a plane to visit my sister in Qatar. And remember even more clearly saying goodbye to my parents in the airport. How fortunate I am to have them. Why did they let me go so far away to be in a community they’ve barely heard of with people they never met? All this comes to mind though all I wanted to write about was the garbage on my floor. A Starbucks bag from the muffin and cookie I just bought. I think I discovered where the white people are in Jordan.

When I went to Starbucks.

There they were. Though I’m not sure if they were white, they looked white. But at the counter were white women, laughing and giggling the way they distinctly do. Starbucks lovers and somehow they kept their figure. Starbucks was some kind of status symbol we could all afford. But only the white girl with Starbucks in hand counted, how American. But these white women were speaking Arabic as any other Arab would. It was too culturally embedded in their phrases for me to think they were white girls who happened to know the language well. They were what one great leader envisioned -“Indian on the outside, white on the inside”. With the obvious Arab insert.

Jordanians are an interesting bunch. Cab drivers are always interesting. My cabby on the way to the mall was best* and not beast*. That’s what I thought he said, “Jordan is beast”, see my friends that makes no sense. Its like mistaking a ح for a ه or a ا with a ع since you just can’t do that. Because it could change the whole meaning. Only a few out of context minutes later did I realize what he said and didn’t find my realization worth revelation. But yes he was best* because he had a brother who lived in California and ask me normal not-too-personal questions. Though he asked me the standard “Are you married?”. To which the answer is ‘no, in sha Allah’ but to which I always want to say ‘Are you proposing?’ because really I don’t get the point of a question like that otherwise. Unless he was married and wanted to see if we could compare the glories and trials of married life, which I’m sure would be interesting -but weird.

Well I was cleaning and there were candy bar wrappers and I just ate bread with olive oil and cheese and I’ve just been wondering when exactly I’m going to get on track with my diet and lose 50 pounds. I want to come back to NY as the self I once was over three years ago. Slim. Not happy, because being slim doesn’t make you happy. Though it does make you happy about your weight. And so I await to have the ‘harojuko’ (?) moment Tim Ferris was talking about. Still waiting. Lets’s talk…


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