I talked to an old friend of mine today, and it’s been a while since we talked. She told me that she loves Lebanon but that she really misses Riyadh, and asked me if I feel the same way. I said no. I didn’t even think before saying no. I love Jordan, I love Jordan to death, so why would I miss Riyadh?
Moving from a country you’ve lived in all your life to a country you’ve never lived in yet always considered home is weird. It’s not homesickness; it’s just a deep longing for the stuff I did all my life and took for granted (Rand, I miss going to Faisaleyeh with you too).
But do I miss Riyadh?
Ok, Noor, I do. I miss the hours spent at Starbucks. I miss sitting in Manarat’s hallways(although now I’m quite sure that highschool was the worst experience of my life). I miss the wild parties, the endless shopping, and ordering Pizza Inn every weekend. I miss dabkeh parties and dabkeh gatherings. Most of all though, I miss the people of Riyadh. I miss the compound, I miss you guys, and I miss dabkeh people(I miss you dabkeh people more than you can imagine!). I miss Sami, I miss Nissy and Ghanameh, and I even miss the little compound boys.
But do I want to go and live back in Riyadh? No, I don’t. It’s too fake a life, and I really enjoy having a car :P
I do though miss the years when all we cared about was our next dabkeh show and all we did was sit in “the box” and sip Frappaccinos.
Herbawi, Amman was better when you were here.
For Sami, Zeina*2, Beeso, Hisham, Omar, Gus, Dina, Ghanameh, Noor, Noor * 2, Marwa, Yasmine, Massa, Noura, Tamara, Farah, Basma, Hasan, Abu Deyeh, Ameer, Abu Il-Heija, Ahmad, Nisreen, Layal, and most especially Rand and Herbawi.
It’s also for Sudairy, one of the most amazing people I met. Tibi Ommik, huh?
Love you guys.