So Im home now.. or in my "house" I should say and much to my surprise I'm wishing that I was back in Egypt. I am miserable. point blank. I have spent my days on the verge of tears, feeling trapped in suburbia , caged by the branches of these tree lined streets and fancy shrubbery, and wondering what ever happened to that quixotic dream of "home" that I made up in my head while I was in Egypt. I have yet to see any of my friends, yet to visit my second home NY, and have yet to touch a stage. Even more at the moment my future in Jordan is just a fantasy. I havn't raised a single cent for the plane ticket. All the letters and emails that I sent out before I left were unanswered. Having this looming over my head, knowing that every day the price of that plane ticket continues to increase is like walking around with burlap sacks filled with dumbbells tied to my shoulders. My parents agreed to pay a part of the plane ticket if I stayed around the house and looked after my brother, I know its a pretty sweet deal, but often times I wonder if my happiness, if this slight breech of my freedom, is worth the price. Maybe I will just have to take out a loan? Will I have to contact the father that I haven't spoken to in eons? Will I not go? If that then what...
Maybe Egypt wasn't perfect, maybe I was getting fed of with the gender roles and all, but every day, every single day it was brand new in someway and everyday I knew that I would wake up to an amazing group of classmates who would love me and support me through all of my troubles. There was a woman living underneath our building who would hug me and attempt to speak broken English and the man at the little store who would always give me a discount and the woman on the train that would help me in just before the door slammed on me and all of the random people who loved me without even knowing my name. I miss that ...
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