the Jordanian birthday

The thing about birthdays is that they come, without fail, every year… no matter where you are. This year, I have the privilege of turning 26 in Jordan… I’m feeling kind of morose about it though.

For one thing, 26 is WAY older than 25… so there is the inevitable sensation of my twenties slipping away from me fast without me knowing it, never to be seen again… the competition with oneself is sometimes the biggest game of all, and it is just another milestone passed, and another chapter closed…

the list of things to do before 25 was done will roll over to the next year…

And then there is my weird narcissistic  fascination with having a day that is entirely about me. Perhaps it comes from having a birthday 10 days before Jesus… its tough to feel special in a predominantly Christian area when all the malls and minds of people are full of tributes to the big guys’ day. It was challenging through grade school to get people to come to the birthday parties mom would throw  (as inevitably people had things to do); I always demanded that the Christmas decorations remain boxed till my day was over; and in college and grad school it was always surrounded by exams,  if not mine than everyone elses! Yes, it has always been a day that I have had to remind people of, rather than been surprised by how many people remembered…

And this year, I am sitting in my office in Jordan, the morning after Eid, while all the women around me are busily discussing their holidays with their families and getting caught up with each other. I don’t think anyone even really knows its my birthday, save for the one woman I told waiting for the bus on the way here, nor do they particularly care. The language barrier seems as massive today as it ever has - even though many come over to kiss my cheeks and wish me well, the solitary english sentences in the sea of Arabic are more alientating, brining my attention to their collective joy as they quickly slip back into their familiar jibes in their native tongue.

I am probably being a big baby about it (actually, I know I am), but it is time like this that I realize for me, the holiday season has always included my birthday as a time to be celebrated  with those who cared the most, precisely because it wasn’t ever the most convenient day to do it (I know, I definately shouldn’t complain as my cousins birthday IS Christmas!!).

As I am now making the transition into a more adult space (ie. the working world), maybe I shouldn’t care so much about marking this day… but then again, why shouldn’t I live it up, and commemorate this really tough 25th year with the recognition of the triumphs and the challenges that made me the person sitting in this office in Amman today?

And so, with great surprise, I am going to put a big thank you out there into the universe for the creator of….

Facebook.

I know, shocking. I have been a big critic of the virtual high-school locker, that always seems to be a bit of a popularity contest (who has the best photos, who has the most friends…)

But, as I sit in this celebratory-flavoured room (for a holiday that has nothing to do with me), I am able to click and read all of the touching shout-outs, just for me, from such a range of people: the ones I didn’t even know remembered my name in high school, to those most dear to my heart that I don’t keep in touch with as much as I should. Some who know how hard the past year was, and some who are just now hearing about how far I have come. I am proud of where I am now, so whats the harm in wanting others to share in the celebration of the achievements of the past 25 years with all of those who have made them so great and full of love?

So thanks, facebook, for throwing me the party that I thought I wasn’t going to be able to have, and inviting all of my friends from all corners of the earth to give me those moments of attention we never realize we are getting every day from people who give us a passing thought. By putting up that little reminder for us all of peoples special day, our collective interactive networks are able to remind people in so many ways instantly that the loneliest moments are not nearly as solitary as they may seem.

Thanks, everyone. I miss you lots.