Adapting Back to US

I was told, yet again, that I'm slacking on writing my blog. I know, I know. I just don't find the same interest in my daily events as others might. Layovers, ninjas, and foreign sounds have become my norm. I actually feel weird being outside of the Middle East. Recently, I found myself in the US twice within the same month. The first visit for a nice Christmas holiday and the second to say goodbye to a really amazing and beloved man, my grandfather. May he rest in peace. 

There's something welcoming to me about hearing so many different dialects and languages in Kuwait, sure it happens in the states but no way as frequently as here. This is the real melting pot...Bangladesh, Pakistani, Philippines , Syrian, Lebanese, Turkish, Omanis, ..I could sit here and list all day. I've grown accustomed to stepping off the airplane in Kuwait, going to the baggage claim and some guy collecting my bags for me...carting them all the way to taxi, then the taxi driver unloading my bags for me into my elevator. To you that must seem incredibly lazy, and you're right, but I found it so odd landing in JFK without money for a cart and having to push three bags awkwardly through customs line. Sure, a kind old man helped me get it situated, but nothing more because he had a handicap wife of his own to cart around. But I also had a security attendant just laugh in my direction. Of course he meant no harm, no insult; even I found it comical. But help would have been more desired, yet I played along in response, 'just like playing soccer, hah'. We shared a laugh as I struggled-on past customs  to throw my bags towards my parents in a thank-god-you're-here-now-save-me kind of way.

Trips to the stores even felt different for me. Not just the selections, currency, and atmosphere, but again the overall ease Kuwait has me used to. Granted, I rarely accept help from those trying to push my cart to the car, but the fact the offer is on the table is a blessing. Sometimes it's needed. 

Also, I don't even remember appropriate ways to tip anymore! It's embarrassing. I got my hair cut the first day there and undertipped the stylist by half! Meaning I gave her 10%. That's just awkward. I went back, gave her more, and apologized. I had to explain my predicament, I haven't been required to tip in a long time. Yes, I tip in Kuwait, I do so for kindness not for requirement. It isn't socially performed. They pay adequately so that extra tips are just that...extra. And I say adequately, not graciously. This is why I leave something, but not the percentage acceptable in NJ. 

My trip this time to the US was the most eye opening to the cultural shock I will experience upon my arrival this summer. (Don't forget to keep your fingers crossed on that one so you can all meet abboud...finally) Don't get me wrong, I know I'm going to love returning home, but I'm scared a little. I'm worrying about the health insurance, car insurance, living situation, and a job. The normal stressors I'm sure everyone faces. It's just real adult life, I kind of transitioned from college to an easier version of adult life. 

But, I digress, we all know I'm an easily adaptable soul. So my return back will go just as smoothly as my arrival to Kuwait. Insh'allah. (God willing) 

A Trip to Jordan

The hill! half-way

This post is long over-due, it has been 3 months since my trip to Jordan. Hear's to hoping my memory isn't too foggy. I went with Abboud and our mutual friend, Ty. From the airport we rented a car to which I drove the majority of the trip. First stop, Amman.

They made it look easy -_-

We only spent the night in Amman, but we were able to meet up with one of Abboud's friends from college. We were meeting him at a bar that Abboud swore was really close to our hostel. Okay, I'll give him credit...it wasn't far, technically it was only about a mile, but it was a mile UPHILL. I don't know how aware of this you are, but Jordan is very mountainous. So, when he said close...he meant, yes it is close, but it's straight up this giant hill. We survived ready for drinks. After that, his friend drove us around.

The next morning, bright and early (after a glorious rooftop breakfast) we hit the road for a 3 hour drive to Petra. I think we all agreed this was our favorite part. We purchased 2-day passes and prepared to spend the night in a bedouin campground under the stars. The first day was jam packed with hiking. We made it to the top of 1000 steps (by foot) to see the ritual sacrifices. Day 2 we had a lazier approach...which everyone would understand, and took horses, donkeys, and mules around petra. We went to another sacrafice place, road all around horrifying heights, and Abboud got to walk a donkey when Ty's and my donkeys ran off with the trainer chasing behind. Really though, the trainer was like 'Hold this' to abboud and ran off. So many people began asking Abboud 'How much?' for a ride. He loved that donkey, Ana.

The Spring

Headed to wadi rum now, another 3 hour drive. I haven't mentioned it yet, but driving in Jordan is terrifying. Winding, thin roads on high mountains with barely enough room for 2 cars. Even in Amman (city driving in itself is an experience), but mountain driving is 0.0. So we finally arrive, and are practically persuaded into a tour. Camps don't open until a certain time. It was amazing though, we went off roading through the desert and got to see everything about Lawrence of Arabia (his home and spring). We also go to climb a huge sand dune...where Ty and I learned the trick of running on your tippy-toes and hands. Looks really awkward, but you'll be desperate enough to do it, trust me.

Our nighttime experience in Wadi Rum didn't begin so pleasant. We arrived at our camp STARVING and ready to eat our requested meal of Mansaf (the traditional meal of Jordan). However, the camp we were planning to stay at was requiring us to pay an additional charge to eat dinner (not even mansaf). We were in shock, since their website said meal was included in their already overly priced night stay. This was the camp we were splurging on. We questioned why (since all other camps include dinner and their website doesn't say anything about it) and they "seemed" kind enough. They were going to call over the manager to explain further (in arabic) but instead insulted us to the manager (in arabic). Little did they know, Abboud speaks arabic and understood what they said about all of us. So, instead of getting upset--he just began speaking to the manager in arabic to show him he knew what happened. The manager seemed shocked, 'you know arabic?!' In the end, they denied saying anything wrong, kicked us out, and called us liars. We drove to the camp next door (whom said he's heard horrid stories of this man and camp) and we ended up having an AMAZING time. It was meant to be.


Our trip has dwindled down to the end, and we went on our last hike to the dead sea/madaba. This was our relaxing time. We stayed at the Holiday Inn Dead Sea and spent the day in the pool, in the dead sea, and with drinks in hand. Great way to end the trip. With a final journey through the mosaic city (madaba), we drove back to Amman...boarded our plane...back to Kuwait. :(