Author: Tala Fakhoury

I was finishing up some work at the Starbucks, as Javier pulled up the main entrance.

I got in and he greeted me with an “Hola! Que tal?”. For whatever reason, his question took me by surprise even though every Uber driver has greeted me in the exact same way. My nervous self just responded with “bien gracias!” then I silently put the seat belt on.

He directly asked me if I were tica, probably because I didn’t seem to look too tica with my Duke hoodie. I said no, and that I was Lebanese. Here I usually get the same answer from all Uber drivers “Oh that is far from Costa Rica”, either in Spanish, or a broken English with a heavy accent. It’s always funny how conversations sound exactly the same. After the nationality comment, we talk about the official language of Lebanon, and after that they comment about my Spanish and after that it’s probably about some random Costa Rican fact.

But then, he asked about my faith. I told him religion in Lebanon makes you doubt where you stand exactly when it comes to that topic. My dad is Sunni, my mom is Shia and my grandfather actually chose to get baptized as catholic when he was in his 40s. And as I explained a bit more about the religious conflicts and wars in Lebanon with my limited Spanish vocabulary, he started sharing more and more about his own values. I think this is the first time that I talk to an Uber driver who shares so much with such passion. He talked about his relationship with God, he talked about how he felt so different than people here. He explained that he felt most people around him walk around with blinkers or blinders like the ones they use for horses to try and prevent it from seeing whatever is around it or behind it. He said that people tend to forget to look up, or towards what mattered. At one point, I stopped talking and just listened to everything he had to say. He would smile with a big smile and laugh whenever he would say some witty then just continue with the flow of his thoughts.

The car stopped 20 min later. “It was great to meet you!”, “You too!”

I unlocked the entrance door of my padres ticos’ house as I hit on the 5 star rating. “Leave a comment” ……… “Javier is a great guy”.

 

Today my mamá tica used “tu” with me for the first time. I had asked my spanish professor about it a couple of times before, wondering when does that transition happen, or how close do you have to be for someone to use “tu” with you. He never really gave me an explicit answer and he just said “it happens naturally”. So I waited.

I came back around 6pm, unlocked the three consecutive doors and went in (this always takes a couple minutes because there are so many keys and they all look alike). I came in to the kitchen and saw my mamá tica preparing dinner. She got fried chicken today. It made me happy because the night before, we had walked near a fried chicken restaurant and she asked me if I liked fried chicken. I nodded and said “Claro!” because c’mon, who doesn’t like fried chicken. After greeting me with a hug, she said : “Cómo te fue hoy?”. AHA! I noticed it immediately. It wasn’t like I was impatiently waiting for it, but it made me happy.

I replied with ‘bien, fue bien!” as every other day. Then I grabbed my computer and sat with my papá tico and watched some american movie starring Owen Wilson. He turned on the light so that I could work on my computer then sat next to me and started talking about the movie saying how much of a typical american movie it is. I just laughed and continued coding for my lab.

I helped them with diner, and we sat down. Diners are usually very amusing. My mamá tica always find the most random things to talk about, and she just laughs at her own jokes which I love so much. She reminds me a lot of my grandma back home. Today was definitely different. It felt more like home.

Using the term “home” is really funny and weird to me. For the longest time, home was Lebanon. I was born and raised in its streets and sounds and food and culture. It was home and where I felt like I belonged. But the definition I have of that term is changing day by day, or chapter by chapter. Moving to the USA is probably the main reason this happened. Being away for two years makes you realise that your “home” can change so easily. Lebanon is always home, but my apartment on central campus is home, my freshman dorm Southgate is home. All of it is home. I lived there, slept there, had good memories. It is home. And today, Curridabat felt a little bit like home. I sleep here, eat here, study clean and spend time with two lovely people that have welcomed me in their home. It really feels like home and I never thought it would feel like that in such a short amount of time.

As I am writing this, there is a huge cucaracha walking around in my room and it is currently under that small nightstand. I am probably sleeping with one eye open tonight pero it’s okay, today is a good day.