Sure enough I couldn't go back to sleep after the adhan. I was tossing and turning for about 3 hours and I finally decided to get up and wander to the living room. My parents and brothers were still asleep. I could hear noise coming from the kitchen. I slowly got up and walked towards the noise.
"Good morning Miss Lulu" said Rosie,
"Ah...good morning to you too..." I responded awkwardly.
"Would you like to take your breakfast now?" she asked.
"I'm not really hungry quite yet...thanks though..." I responded.
I was still not use to the idea that we now had 2 maids living with us, as well as a driver. Back at home people would think that we were extremely rich, but here in the Gulf it was normal. Maybe the idea of a driver would be good, seeing as many people are wreckless drivers. I would most likely get in wreck before I knew it.
I went back to the living room to see what was on t.v. Back in Chicago, we had satellite and Baba would be the only one to watch Arabic shows. I never really paid attention to them. My arabic was great, but we mostly spoke English back in Chicago. Therefore we watched a lot of American shows.
"Lulu, you're up this early?" Mom said, as I turned around at the sound of her voice.
"I couldn't sleep as late as I wanted to...how was your sleep?" I asked.
"God, it was a lot better than sitting on an airplane for God knows how many hours! I did wake up a few times but other than that I slept just fine."
Mom walked into the kitchen where Rosie was busy making coffee. I thought of the hours and days ahead. I didn't miss Chicago yet. I just felt like I was still in a daze. I didn't have any plans here. I didn't have any friends, just family that I hardly knew. I was done with my studies. It just all felt so weird. I have always had things to do and places to go. And now finally that I'm in a new place I just don't know what to do with my time, because nothing comes to mind.
Mom came back into the living room and sat next to me.
"So how are you feeling? Is there anything particular you want to do today?" she asked.
"I'm fine...I guess. I don't know...I didn't have anything in mind. Maybe unpack a little?"
"Well that doesn't sound like too much fun. You have the rest of the morning to do that stuff, but we're invited over for lunch at Jida Fatima's house, and everyone is going. That should be fun. We haven't gathered in years."
It's true we haven't seen them in years. Baba had studied in the U.S for both his undergraduate and masters. That's where he met Mom. Then he returned home and talked with his family about a woman he met while he lived abroad. He was interested in her and wanted to marry her. That didn't go so well with my grandparents. My grandmother was furious. They were waiting for my father to finish his studies, come back home and marry a national. My grandfather hated to hear my grandmother complain so much, so he kept advising my father to really think about his decision. My father was sure about his decision and basically told them he either marries the American he met, or he would never marry, and their hopes of having grandchildren could go out the window. After months of tension in the house and of trying to talk him out of this idea, they finally gave in. My father was in his late 20's, and had been responsible enough to live abroad and ask very little from my grandparents. My parents married in small wedding in U.S and another here in the Gulf. This was back in the 1980's. I was born shortly after. During the First Gulf War, Mom feared for our lives. She asked Baba is he would consider moving back to the States. He agreed and we left back to the U.S. I was only a few years old. Nawaf and Ali were born in the U.S. My parents both found stable jobs and that's pretty much the reason why we stayed in the U.S for so long. I know it was really difficult for Baba to stay away from home since my grandparents were aging. But I suppose he was use to living away since he studied in the U.S for so long. And now we've returned back to the Gulf. I had a choice to stay back home and continue working as I had been doing so after graduating from university. But I admit, I was a little scared to stay in Chicago without my family. Although Baba would be sending me money and I would be working, it just felt weird. I also felt like I needed a little change. And once I decided to go through with it and move with the rest of my family, I started to regret it a little bit. As the departure date came closer, I was too afraid to tell my parents that I wanted to stay back home. Back where I was familiar with everything and everyone. So, now I'm here and I have to settle in and take every day as it comes.
We arrived at Grandma's house for lunch and were warmly greeted by everyone. There was of course tears and laughter and the casual staring up and down. Memories of Grandma's house started to come back. Grandma's house was located in the oldest town in the country. Her house was a traditional house with white-washed walls. I remember running around in the enclosed courtyard with my cousins. The smell of burning bukhoor conjured up memories of my early childhood and it was making me feel so much better. Greeting everyone took a long time. We traditionally gave relatives and close friends three kisses per person. So you can pretty much imagine how long that would take if you had a family of 30.
"Lulu! Intey Helwa! masha2allah! Look at that face! You're gorgeous!" said Khala Dana.
"Shukran..." I responded shyly.
"You all have been away way too long! We're so glad to finally have you home!" Khala Dana said with tears in her eyes.
I finally came around to Grandma Fatima. She was such a small and frail woman. I held her trembling hand and kissed her on the forehead. She then held my face in her hands and said something but I could hardly make out her words as she was in tears and choked up.
"Yala ana yoo'an! Bs Khalas no more tears! Let's eat!" said Uncle Mahmood.
We sat in two separate rooms. Women in one room and men in another. The maids brought out huge silver platters mounted with rice and meat stacked in the middle. I became nostalgic and even though I wasn't hungry prior to our visit, my stomach was starting to growl. It was tradition to have lunch sitting on the floor, cross-legged and in a circle, with the food in the middle. Although a lot of families in the country, including my relatives, now owned dining room sets, once in Grandma's house, we would eat in this fashion.
Grandma signaled one of the maids, and I was quickly handed silverware. I looked around and saw everyone eating with their right hand. I had seen Baba eat with his hand a few times but I had never tried eating in that way. I watched as everyone ate and paid attention to their fingers and every movement. I saw how they used the tips of their fingers to ball up the rice, bring it up to their lips, and use their thumb to flick the food inside their mouths. I was starting to feel left out. Even my Mom was eating with her hand! I had never in all my years seen her eat in this way! It would probably be best to practice at home while no one is watching. I used my silverware and dug into my food.
After lunch, the maids came out and cleaned up. We were then served tea and we sat in the living room just chatting.
"Lulu, it's been so long! Do you remember when we use to play here? I miss those days so much. I'm so glad you're back!" said my cousin Zain.
"Yeah, I just started to remember. Me too. We were worry-free back then." I responded with a smile.
"Do you have any plans for tonight? Me and Noor are planning to go over to Nouf's house. Do you remember them? They use to live a few houses down. But they moved to the newer parts of the country. But yeah, you should definitely come. I told them you were moving back. They are looking forward to see you!"
"Yeah, that sounds like fun. I would love to come along." I said nervously.I went back home to rest for a while. I was not only a tad jet-lagged but I was stuffed from lunch. I guess my nap was longer than I expected. Mom came into my room and woke me up.
"Lulu honey, wake up. Zain is here waiting for you. Yala get up." Mom said.
Zain walked into my room. "Goomay ya Helwaaa! Go get ready!" she said cheerfully. "3andich abaya? If you dont have one, 3adi its ok, we can go pick one up for you at my house.
"La, ma 3andi. Laish? Do I really need one?" I asked, confused. The thing is, the abaya is not worn by all women here. It all depends on the family and how you're brought up. We live in a quite liberal country, unlike the rest of the countries in the Gulf. I didn't think I would need one since most of my clothing was quite modest."Ya3ani, it's probably best if you do. Ummm...just in case. Trust me on this." she said in sneaky way.
"Inzain, that's fine..." I said unconvinced.
We left our house and drove to over to Zain's. We entered her walk-in closet only to find black, black, and more black clothing. But the thing is, each abaya was beautifully accented with shiney and eye-catching Swarovski crystals. Although to most people abayas are just black cloaks, to women in the Gulf it is a way to express themselves. She looked at me up and down and brought out a shiney black abaya. I was her little Barbie and I could see the excitement in her eyes. I felt like I was wearing a cape. I'm sure if someone was to see me back home they'd think it was Halloween. She fixed the rectangular shayla over my hair and threw one of the ends over my shoulder. With a wink of approval I turned towards the mirror and saw my new attire. I was in awe with myself. To be quite honest, I felt like royalty. I looked at myself from all angles, and realised how elegant the abaya looked on me.
"Yala let's go, before my parent's start to complain and Jassem starts to question where we are going." Zain said.
It was only 8pm, and not only are most families in the Gulf very over-protective of their daughters but it was also Thursday night, the start of our weekend. Men from surrounding countries would be swarming into town in hopes of having a fun time.We drove over to Nouf's house. I remember Nouf was chubby when we were kids. And actually quite annoying. She would cry for everything. From what I recall, I didn't like to play with her. But she was always around when we were young, so we had to let her tag along.
Nouf's maid walked us over to Nouf's room. Her house was utterly amazing! Every house I visited was more amazing than the last. We entered Nouf's room, or shall I say her "suite".
"Hala ya banat! Shloonkom?" Nouf greeted us with a huge smile. She looked quite different. Although she was no longer chubby as she was when we were kids, her voluptous body still gave you an idea of what she use to look like. She was dressed in a gold sparkly top and black pants. Her hair was perfect and looked professionally styled. Her make-up was beautifully applied and looked as though she was about to attend a wedding.
"Lulu! Oh my gosh! I didn't believe Zain when she said you were moving here! Who the hell would choose living here than back in the U.S unsupervised? Inti maynoona wallah!" Nouf said.
"Madri...sometimes we just need change..." I said. Maybe if I continued to say it I would actually start to believe it.
"Inzain, yala. Noor has been calling non-stop. She needs to leave her house like now! If it gets too late her parents are gonna complain. We have like 15mins to get to Noor. I already spoke to the driver and asked him to drop us off. I paid him to keep his mouth shut. C'mon, let's do this." Nouf said with scared doe-like eyes.
I didn't know what we were doing. I didn't know what I was getting myself into. Back home I always made the plans and made sure everything was well thought out. I wanted to ask, but I just wanted to go with the flow and not care. If only I had stopped to ask...
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