A year of juggling school and two jobs and other first world problems, a short and phenomenal stopover in Montreal, and all of a sudden I was back in the old country: touching down at Dubai’s ever-growing airport. My dad picked me up at the arrivals lounge, and after telling me I had gained a fair bit of weight (breakfast in Montreal was chocolate croissants and cheese curds), he said with a wink, “So you hear they killed Osama?” all the while showing parenthetical quotes in the air with his fore and mid fingers. The gesture was surprising to me not just because it was a very western one but also since my dad was as always using his outdoor voice indoors and dozens of people had heard him; none of whom seemed to have any issue with what he had just uttered. Over the next few days I heard similar sentiments from: people at cafes I ran into randomly, my uncles, the gentleman who cleans my parents’ house, and my cousin’s hairdresser. Continue reading ‘A Tale of Three Bin Ladens’
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