The following is a special, on the spot report from the 'Condo by the Sea' - Yes! A report from Georgina!
It's that time of year again . . . when all the oversea family members migrate back to Libya for the summer. Yes, no matter which wonderful country they reside in for the other 10 months of the year, they all come home for the summer. For those two magical months of the year, Libya is the most wonderful, most religious, the safest, most family orientated country in the entire world. The Motherland sings her serene song to lure even the most hardened heart to melt with longing for home.
It is always a felicitous occasion, the first visit from the 'Prodigal' returnee. The first words out of their mouths are not 'How great it is to see you!' or even 'I have missed you so!', no, it is more likely to be 'Oh Mash Allah, you have gotten so fat, or old!', said with a smile upon their face. Then the visit proceeds with all the grand things they have in their homes in the other country. How much they own, earned, what special clothing they are wearing. This is closely followed by information of who in the Libyan community where they reside are worthy enough to be their special friends. This is dependent on the size of that person's bank account. All this is said with the ever pleasant smile in place, so you will understand that they are not being rude.
The remaining portion of the visit is spent in telling you ALL the horribly wrong things in Libya. How families have degenerated into wild heathens. The youth of the country are so spoiled, but as they say this they are asking where your computer is. . . . Because poor little Mohamed is soooo bored here with no Water World, amusement parks, his personal cable TV that is in his room back home, or his game boy, play station, x-box to keep him entertained here, all he has here is the internet. And by the way. . . . What do you do here for fun anyway?
Oh, how can you stand the food here, or the water? Then what follows is a recounting of every restaurant in town where you can get ptomaine poisoning. How only the swimming pool at such and such's house is good enough to swim in because they have their own pure water supply. . . with chlorine added to it to purify it, of course. Isn't it too sad that there aren't any McDonald's, Wimpy's, or K.F.C. places here? That their children won't eat anything BUT. . . . and they are so afraid that they will waste away to nothingness because there isn't a thing their children will eat. Nothing that is healthy enough for them.
These topics of conversations quickly peter out so they then start on the family members that live in Libya full time, not just for those magical two months of summer. Did you notice. . . . how Your (and it is always yours, not theirs, when something is wrong?) mother's uncle's wife's children has just let the family farm go? What about aunt so and so. . . . Did you hear that she did. . . .?? I heard that brother flan-flan's sons were going into business with that 'man' that everyone is talking about. What do you know about that? Sister blah-blah's daughter is getting engaged to you know who's son, my don't they have all that money? She is getting all that gold. Isn't she so lucky to be marrying such a rich man? Yes, well that ex-wife might be a problem for the girl but mylesh, she will be rich. That's all that matters! Ad nauseum.
So, by the time the visit is over, the last glass of tea drunk, the fresh fruit cleared away from the welcome home meal you had so lovingly prepared with the finest, freshest ingredients, in anticipation of a happy reunion with the out of country relative, you are so worn out from having to defend all and sundry of Home; it is with a glad heart that you bide them farewell. Ah, the good ole summertime. Can't wait for next year!
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