Went to Petoskey today, a little town 45 minutes south of Mackinac City. I was running an errand for my boss, who needed some art pieces picked up from the framers for the upcoming Arts Festival on the island.
I've missed my Jeep, so I was glad to get away for part of the day. Got a tad annoyed at the $4.39 gas prices.
I know it's higher overseas, so I hate to grumble, but it's really more than I can afford these days, so I'm very glad to be living on a no-cars-allowed island...
On the ferry ride back, I overheard a family speaking Arabic (!). It's not uncommon to see people wearing head coverings on the island, but I've not heard too much Arabic. I wanted to hug them :-) It was so comforting. I chatted with them, and found out they are originally from Lebanon, and are now living in Deerborn, Michigan.
The island has worked it's magic on me yet again, as it is easy to get sucked into this vacuum, not realizing what is going on in the outside world. My workplace is full of young energetic people, providing a mixed melting pot of "drama". Too many to count have quit, or gotten fired, or left for various reasons. Too many get drunk EVERY night (not kidding). Too many are my friends.
I should learn better than to make friends with people that I KNOW are not going to stick around, as the current situation prevents such lasting relations to occur. Yet, we are all in this together. It's like summer camp, with money and potential trouble.
Too many times I've had to tell more about my life than I wanted to originally. Like, where I got my clothes (mostly from overseas, Thailand, Bali, Cyprus, Israel, etc), which leads to deeper sharing, which I really did not intend to share. I am still not sure if it's a good thing to open up or not, but when one spends so much time with a group of people, it's bound to happen. My tattoo has also been the point of conversation multiple times.
Strange how shy I am about it all. It's just too personal to me, far removed from who I am today, yet deeply ingrained into who I am now. I think I hesitate also because I miss certain aspects of the past so much. Being unaware of the harsh realities of the world, untouched from tragedy, carefree; I miss walking down the street in Thailand, eating mango and spicy sugar, or meat on a stick. I miss riding on motorcycles. I miss the dry heat of Jerusalem summer, and the rooftop meals with friends there. I miss seeing elephants in my Thai neighborhood, and donkeys in my Palestine neighborhood. I miss the smells of the market, even the stinky fish.
I miss it more knowing I may never see it again. Knowing those who I try to share my experiences with have no idea what life is like outside the United States...
So vivid, the memories are sometimes, so random the way I will suddenly think of a Thai or Arabic or Spanish phrase...my mouth begging to speak it aloud, yet I don't let it.
So I just sigh and light incense and say a prayer...and try to make sense of it all. And hope to never forget how blessed I am.
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