Life as an expat in a muslim county

When I am back on the other side of the world, what will I remember of this place?

and worn around the neck or in the hair for any celebration. The heavy 
sweetness of burning “bahour,” frankincense and other natural 

that tastes like Christmas in a cup and the refreshing sweet tang of 
fresh lime juice on a hot day. The spiciness of fasoolia, a bean dish, 
eaten with bread for a simple breakfast or dinner. Cramming into a 
debab to travel through the city. The glow on a dark night from the 
half-moon shaped stained-glass windows that arch over nearly every 

each other in the garden.

Men in skirts-the traditional marwaz, something like a long kilt. 
Thousands of white lights strung over the street outside the house of 

children who pile inside the dumpsters to search for food while no one 
bats an eyelash. Seeing more physical deformities in one year than I 

because her husband is planning to take a second wife. Q – my best 
friend here and her dreams – I have gotten to live nearly every dream 
I’ve ever had, when I put my hand to a door, it usually opens – for 
her, nearly every door of opportunity appears locked. Her teasing