Eid mubarak : masalama

Eid Mubarak!

This is my first post, at the start of my new life adventure! That’s right! I’m starting over again.

After six plus years in Saudi Arabia, I’ve decided to press on and see what the next chapter holds! I am thrilled but mainly curious. What’s next? Beware… I have that look in my eye.

I’m coming for you life.

I had my first road trip yesterday. From Tampa to Orlando. A familiar but longish drive down the dangerously accident laden I-4 corridor. That drive also punctuated another chapter of my life - everyday 5:30 a.m., off to school. On the way back to Tampa while blasting Elvin Bishop : Fooled Around and Fell in Love on the rainy drive, (1970’s power ballads how American right????!) I had one of the many flashbacks that inevitably arise after closing a significant chapter in one’s book of life.

(Skip to the killer guitar solo and you’ll see why got nostalgic)

All those years ago when I went to Saudi scared but determined because I had to accomplish some things for my family, I could only think, with a little luck, patience and willingness to work very, very hard, I was going to win - and if not…man, I was going down swinging.

I remember my dad’s parting words (which are always the same), “You’re okay. If I have to come get you, I will, don’t worry - nothing will prevent me.”

And because he has… every time I’ve been in a jam (and buddy, I’ve been in some jams) I know there is nothing. NOTHING! No authority, no border, no restriction, nothing that really separates us.

Before that parting flight, I made a few calls and left some hurried messages on the voicemail for some of my dearest friends. Sarah, later told me years later, “Flo, I kept that message, to have your voice… just in case.”

Now you may think, lady, cut the dramatics, you didn’t go to Mars, but like I said, I’ve found myself in some bad situations, in some not so pleasant places with 3 or 4 Euro to my name, or deadly sick in Egypt, or sleeping in my car on the side of the road in Montezuma, Georgia. I’ve caused my people serious worry over the years in my striving and hustling.

The result: I won. I got ALL what I came for without dropping too much along the way - I hope.

Well, I was leaving Saudi, it came time to say goodbye and I have that same “goodbye problem”. Rushing from office to office. Trying with my inadequate words to thank my friends, colleagues and superiors for the opportunities, the trust, the encouragement, the support and the kindness shown to me both in and out of office over the years.

Thanking Alicia, with all my tired but dry eyes with all the intensity I could muster, for that time when she saw I was about to explode into tears because I didn’t have the strength to make my case one more time why I should make Counsel.

And then, intern a few goodbyes later taking another friend and colleague by shoulders outside of the gates, to say, “I believe in you. I believe in you! God bless you!” as if I could transfer my belief through my hands and with the intensity of my voice.

There were of course the lovely gifts, blankets (I imagine to wrap myself in the persons hug - thank you Sharon and Duha) books, jewelry, a painting, cards, sincere well wishes all now treasured possessions mostly because they were given one-on-one, really personal, with the giver looking me intently in the eyes knowing, I think, (but we never know) that this could be the very last time we get to look at each other eye-to-eye and this was an important moment.

There are of course the goodbyes I didn’t get to say because time grew short… and it broke my heart in six - Ludmilla, who has been a part of my life at 5 a.m. nearly every single day for years as we worked out together and talked over everything from the mundane to the social and economic ties that made us “in common” although she is from Moldova and I am from St. Maarten.

There was the last Iftar, with my dear friend Jumana. Her family gifted me with the warmth and love of a Saudi family that I have been so blessed to be a part of though the hospitality of many families over the years.

Mama, Baba, one sister, four brothers, one sister-in-law, a new baby (who gifted me with large inquisitive expressive eyes, smiles and quiet cuddling) and my friend allowed me to savor the goodness of home life in Saudi one last time. I would return home to my mom’s West Indian pot of stewed red snapper, fungi, plantain and bok choy, but that night I savored, Jumana’s mom’s Ramadan soup, my favorite - kabsa (check out a recipe for Eid special kabsa here), fooul and every good thing! The conversation was rich and varied, I got to know a little bit about each sibling and while drinking tea, Mama brought up self-care elaborated on by one of her treasured son’s as the concept of Khalwa (to disconnect from everting and everyone - alone time).

They need not have presented me with a lovely cake of lemon poppy seed, or gifts of perfume, a prayer rug and beads, the beautiful galabia or the many other beautiful things I am so undeserving of, but they did.

Another goodbye this time to the traditions, food and a special family.

As I boarded my flight, once again I was texting:

To my driver: “Jaleel, thank you for helping me through the years in Saudi.” What you will never know, is that man is my hero! Jaleel was at times a big brother, interpreting, taking me to participate in my charity work every single week, helping me prepare for international womens day events, helping me carry my displays and make baskets to showcase my other blog, letting me cry quiet tears, I tried to hide but I knew he heard of whatever I was feeling in the back of the blue mini van as he ferried me from appointment to appointment.

Other texts received: Don’t worry. It will be okay. Until we meet again. I’m with you in spirit. God bless you.

Once settled in my plane seat, head back and a large sigh having left my body - I opened the envelope Jumana pressed at me for this moment. Pictures of that night we went dancing five or six ladies deep (but the DJ was ugh and we had more fun laughing at the DJ then anything), another picture of the two of us from that last family Iftar dinner, arms about each others shoulders, heads touched together in that way as if to keep our minds joined.

Phone off.

Wheels up.

Eid Mubarak.

Masalama Saudi Arabia.