The First Chapters

A Millennial Girl's Immersion of Culture

Chapter 1
The Red Sea & Nejran - 1998

       There are three things I remember the most about trips to the Red Sea and Najran: bee stings, dates, and getting baptized.

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       The humming of the engine had put me to sleep in the back seat of the suburban. My sisters and I laid on top of the packed bags, pillows, and towels. The hot air was accompanied by the breeze through the windows, that knocked my sisters and I out. Just thinking about how we were sprawled out, no seat belts, driving through the windy mountains of Saudi Arabia is a nice memory. Out of nowhere, I heard Amy cry out, and we all woke up. She had been stung by a bee. I remember looking at her face and seeing the terror, pain, and tears come on her face. I never felt so scared or sad in my life. The frantic nature of it all created a huge fear in my life, and it was all over a bumble-bee. 

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       Our car winded around a dusty curve and we were welcomed by a man, Saeed. He was wearing a thwab and chewing on a stick. My dad said, "they are called "Mooswalk" roots that have a mint flavor. They would chew on them until they frayed then us them like tooth brushes. Very refreshing. You could buy them in the markets." That is something that has stuck in my mind that I could not forget. Saeed welcomed us to his home (I think it was), we sat outside mostly. We climbed trees, rode a donkey, and we tried dates. The dates tasted weird to me, but it's a taste that comes to my memory with certain smells, like raisins, dirt, and grapes.

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       I was pulled out of bed to the breakfast table. I remember eating cocoa puffs, but refusing to eat because it was too early. My appetite hadn't kicked in yet. I'm not sure if it was 4 AM or 6 AM but being six years old, getting up that early made me sick to my stomach. My family and I were going to the Red Sea with our church group. My dad packed up our tan suburban vehicle, and the five of us were on the road. I slept for a long time, maybe the whole car ride. We made pit-stops along the way for bathroom breaks, the nontraditional kind; those were horrible because I would always pee on my leg or clothes. My dad would have to dig a whole in the ground, for us to use the bathroom...there were no rest stops.
       Once we got to the Red Sea, my sisters and I would take the plunge, and come up with new life. Washed in the water, prayed over, and choosing to live our lives for the Lord. I can say, when I got baptized was the moment I realized I wanted to live my life for Jesus, not just myself. When you're that young, I don't know if it's necessarily your choice what you believe in, but I'm thankful that my parents instilled in me the morals that I had when I was younger. I'm glad they had me baptized that day. I loved God with all my heart at that time in my life, and it was and is still symbolic to me in how I chose to live my life for the Lord. I believe that is also the day I accepted Jesus into my heart for real. 

 "and this water symbolizes baptism that now saves you also—not the removal of dirt from the body but the pledge of a clear conscience toward God. It saves you by the resurrection of Jesus Christ," 1 Peter 3:21

Chapter 2
Moving to America - 2000

       I looked back at my dad, as my sisters shuffled by me with my mom.
"See you on the other side," He said, as he carried his shoes, belt, and passport through the checkpoint.
"Come on, Ashley," My mom said.
We walked into the blocked off room. Surrounded by black curtains, I clearly remember the gray cement floors, as I didn't make eye contact with them. My sisters and I watched as my mom un-robbed her abaya and was checked. All I could think about was making it through security to the terminal to lay down. We had made our way out to meet my dad. My sisters and I looked around at the faces, that were clearly looking at us. We sat in what seemed to be an empty terminal, with black airport chairs, for our plane to America.

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       Running down the hall, it seemed to extend as I got closer to the room. I stopped and crouched into a ball will my body, as I sat outside of Mr. Driscul's 3rd-grade classroom. Riding the school bus had been a big enough experience in and of itself, I didn't know how I could handle the rest of the day at school. The "Waves," was the Elementary mascot, and I just couldn't understand why my parents sent me to this school that was so unfamiliar. No one looked the same, like my other school.
       I had a lot of best friends in Saudi; Aubrey, Ashley, Brianna, Martin, Sayo, Heba. They were from all over the world: Some were from America, Pakistan, India, Sweden, and the United Kingdom. Nothing was the same in America, everyone looked the same. They were looking at me funny and I was looking at them funny too. (It wasn't until later that I would realize that what I was experiencing was culture-shock... in America.)