It
was a freezing day in the month of February, Me and what was merely my travel companions back
then -but later on turned out to be great friends- were enthusiastically
wondering what lies ahead of us.
With
the strength of an ox and the gusto of recently wedded groom, I pushed my cart
and never looked back. Ahmed; an older
student who has been there for a semester
earlier coincidently happened to be on our same flight - a real raconteur who
made the trip last only a second- called
at me "slow down and wait Adnan"
Marching
together like a Soviet army parading in front of an oppressive dictator we made
our way through the narrow corridor and suddenly we appeared to a throng of
people , They were of all shades but the Somali visage can never be missed.
A
group of Somali students were waiting to welcome us in this strange man's land,
we started hugging and handshaking in the Somali way, the amicable feelings
that they depicted was in someway soothing and it lowered the discontent I was
feeling which was mainly from the pealing laughter of a receptionist after I
said "Anaa uriidu" Two words I never used again.
My companions, Hassan and Mohamoud each started to get busy, Mohamoud a very pious man was griping about his lack of sleep and there was dark halo around his eyes suggestive of accumulated fatigue he endured for the 30 hours journey, in addition his insides were in the monsoon season and to him it was sounding like the gale-forced winds that accompanies an equatorial rain. Hassan on the other hand was a jocular man and suddenly started entertaining the crowd and they listened like a jealous wife lends an ear to the words of a soothsayer, he was sitting near sh. Mohamed to whom they were acquainted back in Borama. I retreated to an inherent silence only answering in short sentences and I took a window seat when we departed the airport.
My companions, Hassan and Mohamoud each started to get busy, Mohamoud a very pious man was griping about his lack of sleep and there was dark halo around his eyes suggestive of accumulated fatigue he endured for the 30 hours journey, in addition his insides were in the monsoon season and to him it was sounding like the gale-forced winds that accompanies an equatorial rain. Hassan on the other hand was a jocular man and suddenly started entertaining the crowd and they listened like a jealous wife lends an ear to the words of a soothsayer, he was sitting near sh. Mohamed to whom they were acquainted back in Borama. I retreated to an inherent silence only answering in short sentences and I took a window seat when we departed the airport.
At
this time of the year, Jordan
is cold but rainy; everywhere I look it was green, endless meadows with lush grasses
which oneself can wallow carelessly like a nubile girl that is thunderstruck by
the arrows of cupid!
I
was cognizant to the Mediterranean climate only through geography books but
experiencing it first hand was a whole different thing.
1 comment:
Nice thought, wait... Nice thoughts(with s, plural). Enjoyed it.
Post a Comment