Today was absolutely lovely even though I started it with a lot of sniffling and sneezing. I think I may be allergic to cats. I was house-sitting last night and the house came with a beautiful black cat named Sadek. His temperament is more akin to a dog, though, and he talked and insisted on being petted and purred like a truck when I did so. In the morning, when I was trying to get some work done, he kept on plopping himself down on my lap to get some attention. I laughed when I told him to keep his paws off the mousepad!
Several times, Sadek stepped onto my shoulder and once he rubbed up against my face. I didn't think much of it but then I started to notice that my face and eye was feeling itchy. I went to look in the mirror and saw a rash on the side of my face that he'd rubbed against. I washed my face but it wasn't reducing quickly enough so I decided to take my sniffly sneezy self back up to the dorm. It took a good hour to go away and thankfully Marisa said she could take over the house-sitting.
In the afternoon, we joined Ana and Bruna in Hamra. This is downtown Beirut and there is a main street that has many fun restaurants and lots of little shops. Ana and Bruna went off to their Berlitz language classes and Marisa and I wandered about, getting a little lost at one point, as we enjoyed getting to know a new place. We found a great little clothing shop with reasonably priced things and had fun trying on things.
For lunch, we met back up with the others and ate Lebanese food at a little hip restaurant. I tried eggplant fatteh for the first time and didn't like it. I normally love eggplant but this came covered in yogurt and was on top of the pita chips they put in fattoush. It was cold and not so tasty. The fattoush salad, hummus, and chunky potato fries were good though. So far I've eaten at probably 20 different restaurants and haven't fallen sick. I am not vegan when I eat out, I eat plenty of fresh vegetables and fruit, but perhaps my African antibodies are kicking in now!
Going and coming, we called King's Taxi to take us. We ended up with the same driver, which was nice because then we didn't have to try to explain exactly where we live or argue about the price. On the way home, content after a wonderful afternoon strolling the streets of downtown Beirut, eating food that I missed terribly as we don't get it often if ever in the cafeteria here, and happy to be right in front of the a/c after the thick humidity, I saw the mountains painting a scene of repose and I realized my heart was content.
Today, my heart fell in love with this country. This is not the love you experience in the honeymoon stage, which I realized sadly this week that I have now left behind. No, it is the love that comes after you know everything about the other party and you still choose to stay. I hate the humidity and feeling sweaty all day long if I'm walking out and about in town. I dislike not feeling safe if I'm by myself after dark and I'm off campus. I feel frustrated in situations where I need Arabic and I can't speak any functional words. I am tired of washing my clothes in a washing machine that needs at least 1 1/2 hours to clean them properly. I don't want to see sliced Persian cucumbers ever again. But I want to stay.
A year is too short a time to really live. I know, I've packed in far too much into these nearly 5 months that I've been here, but I'm realizing now that when I return from my summer vacation, I will be halfway through my adventure. And I'm not ready for it to be over yet. The next 5.5 months will fly by much quicker than these did. That is a fact. I'm sad that just as I am feeling at home, having dear friends, and knowing how to get around, I will have to leave. I don't want to leave. I would be happy to stay here forever.
I can. I can return to the States, apply for citizenship, give up one of my treasured passports, and then come back to make a life for myself. Except I can't. I must be responsible, get a job that has retirement and pays enough for me to buy a house, and stay in a country that isn't home to this adult TCK.
This is the dichotomy of a dilemma that we must learn to integrate when we grow up and are free to choose our futures. When I find a place that feels like home, is it the only one? Or will there be others? Why does it feel like home? Is it a conglomeration of factors or simply one? If I leave, will I always regret it like I did the first time? Does this feeling of home last forever or is it merely a phase and after two or three years I'll be restless to find home again?
My account of today has devolved into a philosophical contemplation of home and whether I do indeed get to choose it. I battle the thought of returning even as I find myself ready for the simple luxuries of that home that I have missed. I'm thankful for this one certainty--my Father knows my heart and my longing for home and just as He laid down the stepping stones for me to come here, I can be confident that He will blow away the fog when it's time to take the next step. Wherever it may be.
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