Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Actually Leaving the Desert

In other news, I thought I was moving past Mauritania.  Even if I haven't processed it fully (or at all for that matter) and haven't packed it away in a neat little box or compiled it in a concise blog post, I thought I was a normal person again (as normal as I ever was).  I even caved and changed my profile pic on Facebook!
But, I am definitely not normal.  For example, I still find myself craving long baguettes made of only flour and salt, or a huge bowl of spoiled milk camouflaged with excessive amounts of sugar.  I fight the urge to obsessively shake everyone's hands whenever I walk into a room or leave it.  I find myself putting my hand over my heart and averting eye contact when I encounter a man, especially one that I don't know very well.  I find myself telling people things are "bismillah" or "tewf," or "zayn hatta!" and expect them to understand me!   I wear sweaters in the summer in Texas and really can't comprehend certain disciplines such as not eating too much, exercising, reading/studying, being alone, or getting to work on time.  To top it off I'm pretty sure my hair is still falling out!

And yet I still thought all of that was behind me.  Until I started working back in a refugee resettlement agency.  All of a sudden I am surrounded by people who are not only interested in my experiences, but have heard of Mauritania and can also ask somewhat relevant questions about my experience!  And I run into Iraqis in the lobby talking about cell phone plans in Arabic and it sounds like a TMobile commercial I'm watching on Dubai 1!  And today I helped a young guy from Iraq named Mohammed and a young guy from Somalia (also named Mohammed) go on job interviews which went really well, and it was such an amazingly cohesive moment.  Suddenly my worlds are colliding and it makes sense!  I don't have to relegate poor Noura to life in her alternate world of Mauritania and pamper Melissa here in the US as though nothing is different.  Mauritania happened and life is happening now.  I can say Salamu Aley kum and there are some folks around that understand.  Or they don't and that doesn't matter.  And although I'm still unsuccessful at processing my experiences so that I can parcel Mauritania off into a pretty little box (only to be dusted off and opened during the scattered Ramadan and Tobaski phone calls), I think I have a pretty good shot at adding it to an overall mosaic of my life, that is turning out to look pretty beautiful after all.  All the disjointed pieces that I thought would never fit anywhere are sliding into places and it's not such an issue, them coexisting, after all.

I am who I am and I've been where I've been.  It's all a part of the person I've become and the person I'm becoming.  And it doesn't really matter if I don't see the big picture or can't pull some profound meaning out of every experience.  Because there is a bigger picture, and it's all coming together for a bigger plan, one that all of our mosaics are ultimately going to fit together in a giant portrait of beauty, redemption, grace, and joy!  So, I'm embracing those pieces, and excitedly watching as my life swells into a pretty cool piece of art.  I may have left the desert and taken the camels off my wall, but I'll never put them behind me!


3 comments:

Ariah said...

I really appreciate you sharing those thoughts. And it's great to see how your new work falls into place.
And don't rush putting that experience on a shelf. Just struggle with it the rest of your life. You'll be a better person for it I think.

Robin said...

I love this, Melissa, especially the bit about the disjointed pieces of your life coming together to make a mosaic. That's an image I really need to reflect on. Thanks for sharing!

Joel said...

Aana nibqik ntiya hatta. Aana ndoor nitkellem hassaniya maak nitya daiman. Aana emwolli nguul shi kif "bismillah" "tewf" we "zayn". We Aana nsali ele il mulanna that it will always be a part of the mosaic of our lives and not relegated to little display pictures on our wall. Alhamdullilah He makes mosaics out of our lives, yaqayer ehem min dhaak, huwa idiir nehna vi il mosaic min il allem kamel.