Malick Hasan, A Trip to Home

My airpods are in and I’m listening to Ariana Grande. We’re on the way to the JFK national airport, 19 hours away from our destination. We say our last goodbyes to my father and head through security.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we are in third priority for takeoff, we should depart in a few minutes.” My adrenaline at this point is through the roof of the plane, the only thing on my mind is getting there safely and seeing my family. The lights turn off and my eyelids get heavier. The next thing I knew we had arrived in Jordan. The first thing I could remember was how nice the airport was compared to the actual country. It’s like going to a really nice restaurant, but with horrible service. Our family is waiting for us at the exit of the airport. We hadn’t seen them in nearly five years. My grandparent’s house is an hour drive away from the airport. The city was lit up, and the silent breeze threw itself in and out of the car windows. Memories start to roll in from the previous time we were here. Over the next week I had to adjust to a very different lifestyle. I’ll start by saying the economy there is horrible. People work long days just to get paid low wages. The average American could probably go there and say it’s easy to live. Although prices are cheap, it matches the conditions of the country. When I first arrived, everything to me was cheap.

An entire meal at a decent restaurant would cost me about three U.S dollars. To my friends and family, that was a lot. It is also really hard to find jobs there, and COVID-19 made things worse. The first few weeks I spent a lot of money, because I missed everything - and who doesn’t spend a lot of money on vacation? I began to realize that most times I would go out with my friends and cousins, they didn’t have money to spend. I paid for them every time we would go out, and it didn’t bother me. I felt proud about it.

The majority of people there are poor; there were a lot of charities and beggars. Fridays are when the streets and stores get the busiest. I had seen a little kid who I saw from the week before. I asked my cousins about him and they told me he had no family, and was always out alone. A kaleidoscope of shifting emotions ran through my heart. I walked over and gave the kid 40 dollars; what was only a few

hours of work for me would last him nearly a month. He looked astonished. I asked him his name.

“Ibrahim” he said, with the happiest voice.

I was in a hurry, so I told him “Deer balak 3ala halak”*

“Allah yes3adak”**

After that occurred, I asked myself, what if I was in that kid’s situation? How would I feel? That was one child out of the thousands who are starving and living on the streets. Being surrounded in a place like this could have a major effect on your attitude towards things. Going to my country and just watching the way people live over there taught me a lesson; to always be thankful and grateful for what I have no matter the situation. That day going forward, I told myself that I would always be appreciative of my blessings. The night we came back, I was exhausted and went straight to sleep. Since we just got back, our house was empty. I woke up the next morning, without food in my fridge, and went to work hungry without being bothered. Because all I could think about was Ibrahim.

*Take care of yourself **May God bless you