As the title suggests, I am writing to inform the internets that I am still alive. I have been active on twitter during this prolonged period of absence of my blogging-self, so those of you who have been keeping up with my tweets will know what I have been up to. Mostly being social and settling down, that is.
I am still amazed at how life channelled itself as I have always wanted but never imagined that it actually would. I am here, the break with my Jordanian history took place and I started living elsewhere and pursuing what has been my ambition for a long time, but I still cannot wrap my mind around how it all happened and when it started. It’s like a flow of events, now that I look back at it, and there are no dramatic breakages.
Obviously that is not true, because there were several dramatic breakages along my journey here. To this point in my life. But I am numb and I am unable to compel myself to distinguish what happened when and how. I will look back at this marvellous period with awe one day; awe at my ability to distance myself from my own self and look at myself from without, like an observer and not a participant. Awe and wonder.
I have been in the UK for almost two weeks now, I am perfectly settled and I started my program. This time is full of newness; things to learn, ways to think, people to meet, food to cook. I am taking it all in, every last drop of it, because I feel a sense of accomplishment just by being here. I feel that I have successfully overcome the emotional, financial, and social hardships that obstructed my ambitions for years. I feel that I am proud of myself for sticking with myself and for fighting for my future and my present. I feel rewarded.
Lest this turn into a self-congratulatory narrative, I will move on to say that I sincerely apologize for not being around much lately. Obviously I have been quite busy back in Jordan after I got my studentship during the summer; seeing friends, enjoying Amman, being with family, organizing my trip and finalizing travel and accommodation arrangements. And then I left, somehow, in circumstances that could not have been any stranger and started acclimating myself to my new life.
I say strange circumstances, yes, because during the last two weeks of my stay in Amman magical things happened. These two weeks were a surreal chunk of my personal history and gave me memories that I will treasure for the rest of my life. Then on the night before my flight, my brother got into a fight and got stabbed in the back of his head which, needless to say, forced us to stay up all night partially at the hospital with police officers hovering around, and partially at home, worrying.
I hadn’t slept properly for two weeks and not at all the night before my travel, so when I did actually leave home my parents and I were too sleepy to understand that I was leaving. That of course cut back on the amount of tears and softened the heart-wrenching nature of our goodbye. It was like watching a movie, because I really had stepped outside myself during that time. I wasn’t even myself. I was a person leaving home and family after years of struggling to do so, but being incredibly detached about it. I had no feelings.
If I can venture a guess, I think that that was due to the fact that my brain was sleeping at the time. It was probably that, and this survival habit that I have which makes me go numb whenever I really shouldn’t. I think my system is not used to being pumped with too many, or too strong, emotions. It simply puts itself on numb mode and sees to it that it records the littlest details with the utmost care, for replaying later down the road, when the event itself is distant and when it is safe to feel things about it.
Anyway, my brother is fine. He wasn’t badly stabbed, as in he luckily only got a flesh wound, and he got stitched up. 13 stitches I think. But, as you might agree, that definitely was not the healthiest way to say goodbye to Jordan. Going to the hospital at 12 AM, thinking you’re going to identify your brother in a morgue because his friend who called you would not tell you what happened and would only say “do not panic and just come to the hospital,” and then seeing him alive but all bloodied up, then when he turns you see his head awkwardly shaved and crudely stitched up, all of that is not very pleasant when you have a plane to catch in a few hours.
There is much more that I want to write about, but for today I think this post is long and rich enough, even if I say so. I really hope that this would break my silence and prompt me to blog again, because quite frankly, I miss it. How have you been?
