Long Sunday. . .

Sundays has always been a long, slow, boring day for me, I don’t know why, but here in AFG Land I work so its not that bad, and to be honest I don’t even know what day is what any more…  I feel un-organized because, I guess its because we only have one day off here, and you cant do a lot with only one day off.  Not only that but, cant go anywhere without a male escort here.  And when you do go out with a male escort/bodyguard, I feel rushed, although I am not being rushed.  Miss the days when I was able to hop on my car, and drive to where ever I needed to go alone.  Well these days will come and go, and soon hopefully I will be HOME SWEET HOME!

 In the mornings, when the driver comes and picks me up, I just sit in the back of the car and look around, at the people on the streets.  Man, women; old, young, everyone is trying to get somewhere, the streets are filled with taxi’s and other cars honking at each other, and just thinking about themselves.  There is dust in the air, and every one covers their faces.  There is a mom holding her sons hand and waiting for the bus.  There is an old man with his turban, and white bearded trying to get on his bike. 

 

At work, I get out of the car, and say hello to the guard, and other co-workers.  I open the door and get in, and say “Salaam” to whoever is in the office and then walk through to where I sit.  I open the window and hear all sorts of birds chirping and singing.  I remove my Abayus(long thin coat), and remove my purse.  I sit and open my laptop, and get ready to start my day with an old Dell laptop which takes forever to do anything on it.  Don’t ask about the internet, because that is slow as well, but I think its due to the slow laptop.  The Khala(aunt) or the cook brings me coffee, and asks how Im doing, and how is my son.  With a smile I say “Im good and so is he, thank you, how are you? 

The day goes by, and before you know it, its time to go home.  On my ways back home, I see the same as I saw in the morning, but this time everyone is trying to get home.  Its dusty everywhere, but you cant close the window, otherwise it will get hot and smelly in the car, so you leave it open.  The driver drops me off by the street that goes to my house, he tells me he can drop me off by the door, but I say “no its ok, I NEED the walk.”  On my way I see kids running around, and playing by the ground water pump.  I look at the kids, and see how poor they are, and how old their clothes are, I get sad for them and wish I had a lot of money or things which I didn’t want so I can give it to them….  When I get home I feel relaxed, and happy to see my sweet precious baby boy. . . .