Flying into London from Marrakech, I started thinking about all the places I had been, all the people I had met, and the fact that England was the very last stop on my world tour and I began crying. Not a cute, date movie cry, but an "Excuse me, Ma'am are you alright? Can I get you something?" cry. Yep... I was that chick. The one everyone else on the plane watches closely because they think that she's going to do something irrational like open the plane doors and try to take everybody out. Not cute!!
I was experiencing every feeling from happy and celebratory to sad and scared all at once and for the first time in my life, I had no words to fully describe the concept of full. So I simply cried.
break out of the doomsday feelings. Is this really the end? I don't want this too stop!
"Whats wrong with you? You've been really down these last couple of days," Dalia said calling me out one night over dinner. "I think you need to shake things up a bit." I had no clue what this meant exactly, but after another tourist marathon through London, which included a city wide scavenger hunt, I found myself strapped to a vomit inducing contraption that took you six stories above the London skyline and then dropped you! Multiple times! Two things: 1 -This heffa knew that I was afraid of heights and she still dragged my tail up there and 2 - Gravity is a Bitch!
Shopping at Portobello Road Market! |
most emasculating ribbing ever received - a model looking, 110 pound, sweet girl in a hijab, calling you every variation of a 'punk' is a new low for me and my ego took a hit that day. In hindsight... I should have just stayed on the ride and puked. Seriously... at the very least I would have retained my 'Bad Chick Badges.'
Christmas with the Zinc Clan! |
American Christmas dinner and we ate, laughed, and ate more. It was a perfect Christmas Eve and I will never forget the kindness of these strangers turned family.
By Christmas Day I'd finally shaken off the funk and I was looking forward to going home, but first I had to make THE call. Every year, my entire extended family (all 40+ people from grandma to aunts and uncles to cousins) dial in for our Christmas conference call. THE call is typically multiple, very loud, conversations where everyone is talking over each other, while laughter, crying and background noise mix seamlessly until my grandmother is ready to pray. Through all of the madness, my aunt screamed "Hey Davita! Where are you this Christmas?!"
"Oh! I'm in London celebrating Christmas with an Iraqi family," I replied jokingly, but not really.
Crickets... Not one damn word.
I died laughing and proceeded to tell them about Christmas dinner. I told them about the shopping at the vintage markets on Portebello Road, the massive Christmas displays at Harrods and I even told them that I was nearly arrested (slight exaggeration, but only slight) after Yusur's little sister had us climbing fences and sneaking into closed amusement parks! They got the gist; I was having an amazing time with good people and that was all that mattered!
Amazing time with good people |
A few days later, I set out for home and I felt fantastic. I needed sky high platforms with fish swimming in the heels by the time I landed in New York - full pimp mode! I had done it! I set a goal and conquered it. I had realized a dream. I had just traveled through 33 countries in celebration of my 33rd birthday and frankly, I could have gotten "Who gon check me boo?" tattooed across my forehead and it would have been quite appropriate on the new me. I was coming home to a waiting husband and a brand new position with a major company and I was feeling myself!
Gravity, though, is indeed a bitch and sometimes your highest highs foreshadow just how low you can fall...
(To Be Continued)
Yusur and our lovely tour guide! |
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