Today, the dudes over at Jordan University threw a welcoming party sorta thing at for the sanafer. A party I say cause not only was it held in an auditorium, there also was a liveband, “Ask a Question” section, tailored department tours, and lacey speeches.
But before you add the “wonder” to “wonderful”, let me clarify that the band was a7aftal eshi bil 7ayah(kudos to Basil) and the “Ask a Question” questions were along the lines of “I saw a group of girls and boys sitting together on the sidewalks at campus! Sir, you need to increase security!” (Ya3ni ya 7ayati, ya 7abeebti, eish beddi 2a2olek… go lock yourself back into your parents house)
So anyway, after the 5-hour procession of “welcoming” speeches and music were finished, the subjective student faculty heads and their entourage were supposed to stand outside and carry a sign of the faculty they’re representing so that they can give the poor, unbelievably lost sanafer a nice stroll around campus.
And there you go- the right corner had “Aadab”, immediately crowding with a hoard of seemingly misplaced kids. The left corner had “Hoqooq”, filling up quickly, yes, not as quickly as “Aadab”, but lookie there, they already have a line! In the center, the “Tarbeyeh” entourage weren’t very happy with the fact that they only had a few dozen kids standing behind them and were screaming “Tarbeyeeeeeeh! Tarbeyeeeeeeeeh!”- sou2-il-khudra style. There was no “Sharee3a” section because the duty was handed to a girl who in fact not a part of the “Sharee3a” faculty, and she simply refused in her tight-fitting-plastic-make-up-glory to represent the “Sharee3a” faculty. And on and on the department heads went; all across the field, there were signs of various other faculties with freaked out kids gathering behind them.
Except, well, naturally, the “Funoon” faculty. The entourage stood alone.
Rewind a little earlier, I had gone to help Nada and Zeina deal with the Funoon freshmen, but when we saw the 7aftaleh that was the welcome party, we all agreed that no self-respecting funoonist would sit and waste 7 hours of their precious time in such a party. And anyhow, the faculty only accepted 35 lucky students this year, and that’s a small, small number you know.
Of course though, we couldn’t just leave. What if some poor funoonist got stuck in those 7 hours of hell thinking that she simply had to? No, we can’t do that to our very own underclassmen, so we stayed. We carried up the sign that read “Funoon” and stood as close to the stairs as possible so that the poor misplaced funoonist wouldn’t get lost.
We stood. And stood. And stood.
Nothing. No funoonists showed up.
Ahh, we thought. There you go, the first glad tiding that this year’s batch of kids is going to be yet another success.
Then, shattering our thoughts, two kids showed up. What? Two kids, together? Ahh, but wait a minute, they look wrong and they’re kinda annoying! They can’t be funoonists! So we asked for ID.
And ID it was… IT geeks! IT geeks pretending to be funoonists! Not very nice, is it?
After all the other faculties have left, a crowd of other faculty representatives gathered around us and decided to start screaming “Funoon! Funoon! Il 7abeh bi leiraaa!” to attract attention of any misplaced souls.
“Ya 7aram il funoon,” they said.
“Shu 7aram?” we asked. “Ma bise7elkom!”
Anyhow, at the end of the wait, we did manage to find one poor misplaced funoonist called Ahmad who is in the Theatre Department.
Ya 7aram il sanafer… they’re so lost!
Pictures(with a rolled r):