Comfortable Prison

After going to home-study seminary at Samah's house yesterday, I called my American friend Adam.

"Hey, watcha doin?"
"Not much, just watching some really boring movie...it's kinda slow, about the CIA - I forgot the name..."
"Oh yeah - 'The Good Sheperd?"
"Yeah."
"Yeah, I thought that movie was pretty slow, too. I started it, but then decided to watch something else."
"Yeah."
"Well, do you want to hang out later?"
"Sure! Actually, that would be really cool. How about at fourish at that one internet cafe?"
"Doar il naseem?"
"That's right."
"Okay."
"Cool."
[pause]
"Hey, let me just call my Arabic mom and let her know, okay? I'll call you right back."
"Sounds good."
"Okay bye."

Ring, ring, ring.
"Allo Kate!"
"Allo marHaba!"
"Weenik?"
"3nd dar Tashman...bidi asalik ishi."
"Shoo?"
"Adam bido atla3 shoya hella...irj3a b3d saa3, okay?"
"Kate, bilash batroohi."
[pause]
"What? Ley?"
"Kate, inti momkin tashoofo bookra. Bilash batrohi, tigi bsoora!"
"Bussss...lesh la??????"
"3shan inti momkin tshoofo bookra! ana masoola 3nik, inti bta3rfiho bus ana la, t3lee bsoora!"
"Okay...okay."

All of this took place while I was at the Tashman's house. Tamer was staring at me. I must have looked really pissed off, because he tried to give me a hug. Even though that would have been extremely nice, I didn't allow him to hug me. I was just plain pissed. The above conversation involved me telling my Arabic host mom what I wanted to go do, and her telling me that I didn't have permission to do it.

I called Adam back.
"Hey, yeah. I didn't get permission."
"Yeah, it's okay."
[we shared this funny sort of laugh/sigh - mutual understanding. It made me feel a little less awkward and self conscious.]
"Yeah."
"Well, we'll do something some other time, okay?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, see you."
"Bye."

I value my parents. I love them. I respect them. They are important to me. However, I have always been an independent creature. I have always explored different methods of expression through art, music, and writing - establishing my own voice, building my self-image. I left my home and country at the age of 15 to study abroad in Rennes, France. I listen to my parents, but sometimes I do not obey them. For instance - the time I took a giant canvas and made body art by using my unclothed body as a paint brush, or the time Trevor and I went to Boston at three o'clock in the morning.

Or, to be completely honest, coming to Jordan at all.

I came home and contemplated this situation.

It felt like I was in prison, even though on further introspection, it was just a major culture clash.