I am not alone

It was just over two years ago as I was driving home from work one day coming through the smaller bendy roads of my neighborhood over various small speedbumps, when a small raggety herd of goats with babies came running across the road.  I stopped the car, then decided to park and take a look at the animals. A colorful group of ladies appeared and immediately invited me into the house, offering me fruits and dates and that irresistible Omani coffee.  I learnt that they were the Al Amris and that this area had been the little seat of their family for years. I instantaneously formed a bond with Salma, the mother. She is a small woman with a ready smile and the kindest face, and when we look each other in the eye, I feel home.

She has ten children, the eldest son is Ahmed, in his early 30s, and the youngest is Nasra, who is in her first year at engineering college. Nasra and I also enjoy each others’ company. I sometimes help her with English homework and she helps me with Arabic. Salma has christened me ‘Sharifa Al Amri’ and even at her son’s wedding last weekend, the guests were saying,’ hiya Amri-a, hiya Amri-a’.. ‘She is of the Al Amri tribe’.

I came away that day with such a feeling of awe, as I had been praying for months that I would like to get to know the neighbors now that I was alone, but didn’t know how to go about it.

Two plus years down the line, and we have shared some wonderful times together. I feel so privileged to be accepted as part of this family. I often have Friday lunches with them, break the fast with them in Ramadan and go on occasion with the ladies to the mosque. Khalid, one of the sons, always helps me to take care of Ollie.

Even now her daughters still find our relationship so funny, they say, ‘you only speak little Arabic, Stefani, and she speaks no English, but you and our mother understand each other so well’. The family finds it very strange that I would live alone in such a big house. They find it so foreign that a person can have no father, mother, brothers, sisters, husband or children. I think they are secretly determined to find me a good upstanding Omani husband. Of course I have nothing against that at all! They often ask me why I don’t come to ‘sit’ with them every day. One evening after some family deliberation, Khalid said that Salma would like to ask me if I would like to come to live with them. He said they had a room free upstairs and I felt like a part of the family, so they would warmly welcome me, but I had to be warned that the house was noisy!

I honestly went home that evening and cried. I feel so incredibly blessed to have found a family here, and never ever have reason to feel alone.  I count my ‘chameleon-ness’ as such a big blessing. I don’t feel separate from the world, and therefore I am not separate. I feel as though I belong, and therefore I do.