The Bully and The Bodyguard

As I mentioned in my book "Dear Jawaher" life is all about phases. There's even phases within phases. Like the school phase for example. There's the phase of being popular in school and the phase of being bullied in school. Luckily me being in bullied in school was short lived but no matter how short it was, it sure hurt going through it. The only way to describe it was to feel that life really sucked.

They were four boys of fourteen and I don't think they hated me, they just enjoyed picking on me. I was sensitive and opinionated which at the time when I was popular was going well, until they came along and began to see the enjoyment of pissing me off.

It was a break time in school and the three boys came up to me to tell me something "important" as they put it. The whole scene took a few seconds but it felt like a lifetime. The fourth boy had been behind me on his hands and knees while one of the boys pushed me back and I went flying backwards. I landed on my butt and pretended that I was fine as I swallowed my tears back. The problem is those boys were supposedly my friends. I didn't understand and still don't understand how people can be mean. Then again, I did mention in the book that my Mom had overprotected us and we grew up living in a bubble thinking that the world was full of nice people which just isn't true. There are mean people out there but as mothers, we want our children to think positive and believe that the world is "nice". How depressing to it would be for us to bombard them with all that is evil in the world. They'd probably go into a depression and never want to leave the house which does not a healthy child make!

After that incident with being toppled over by those boys, I went home heartbroken and told my mother as I sobbed and sobbed. My mother knew the principal as she knows everybody else and so she called and complained. This only made matters worse. The principal was mean too. She called me in and told me that the boys wouldn't have picked on me if I hadn't provoked it somehow!

As a teenager, I thought my whole life was falling apart but of course now that I'm older, I know that it wasn't and it never really is but it felt like it. It was when my insecurities were getting the better of me that I finally found a diamond in the rough.

In every classroom, there will always be a boy that is extra large and for us small kids can be called huge. This boy towered over everybody and he had a great sense of humor no matter who made fun of his size. He approached me one day and said "look, I know what happened and I think it wasn't nice of the boys to do that and I'd like to be your bodyguard, are you interested?"

I looked up at him puzzled "Why?" I asked.

"Because I'm huge and you need someone to protect you so think about it," he replied.

I wasn't one to give up on people and no matter how mean those boys were, I still didn't want to believe that everybody was mean so I agreed on the basis that we try it out for a while.

Well, the rest of the year went by like a breeze. He played the bodyguard role just like in the movies which I now understand what his motive was. He liked the feeling and of course I loved having a bodyguard and was so happy that phase of being bullied was over. Not only was it over, I was the girl who had her own bodyguard and I have to say it felt good to have the wheels turned.

That is the beauty of life. It's when you feel like you've hit rock bottom, something amazing happens that makes you finally understand why you had to hit rock bottom to get to where you are now.

It's been over thirty years since that incident in school but I still could never forget that huge boy who might even be reading my blog now. If you are...I just want to say thanks for being my bodyguard..and for bringing back to me the faith that not all people are mean!

Twenty two Years Post Refugee

My husband Mishal far left, Dusty Rhodes, Me  and Dusty's wife Pamela

Arriving in the States was like coming home. It's funny..every country has a certain smell and the minute I walked into a mall in America, I would take a deep breathe and close my eyes. There was a distinctive smell about it; a fresh smell of soap and scented candles that I always loved and I missed it.

My daughter JoJo (Jawaher) somehow knew that there was something special about America, was it her American genes that made her stomp her feet and say "I want to live here, I don't want to go home!" or was it the amazing colors of America? Who knew? How is it that when I showed her the American flag, she fell in love with it and wouldn't let it go...stood in the middle of the shop waving it and singing "I love America...I love America" her own song that she made up that rhymes with "nanee nanee boo boo". Was she trying to tease someone here? Who knew?!

Needless to say, the experience was amazing and it was great to meet up with all the family and friends there. What completely surprised me was one Marine that I had met in Bahrain twenty two years ago as a refugee.

Dusty Rhodes was a twenty year old Marine that was deployed to Bahrain during the invasion of Kuwait as part of Desert Storm. His camp was stationed in Awali, Bahrain and it was there that I and my sisters met Dusty and his friends. They missed home and we missed home. They wanted this whole thing to be over with so they can go home and we wanted this whole thing to be over so we could go home. Having this in common created a bond and somehow made the waiting period easier on all of us.

When Kuwait was finally liberated, we said our goodbyes and everybody went on with his old life except Dusty who suffered from the Gulf War Syndrome and checked himself into a Veteran hospital. It took a long time for him to get better but he did. And how did I know that? He drove five hours from New York with his wife to see me and the family while we were there. He had found me on Facebook and knew I will be coming to the States and he wanted to meet up after twenty two years!

It was a historical moment when he stepped out of his car carrying a bag full of pictures and newspaper clipping of his days in Bahrain. It was wonderful to introduce him to my husband and kids and share with them a little history of when I was a refugee. When I told Dusty that I was hoping to promote my book, he jumped and said "Send it to Jay Leno! I met him when he came out to visit us when I was there and I'm sure he'd love to help." I giggled and thanked him for his input. I'd already sent it to Jay Leno.

You see, that's the great thing about America, nobody laughs at your big, crazy dreams. Too many nobodies became somebodies so why not you. True Hollywood Stories can give you enough examples of that and it aint called the land of opportunity for nothing!

So maybe I won't hear from Jay Leno or maybe I will. Who knows! What I do know is that after Dusty's visit I felt like I had lived my own hollywood movie regardless if it was ever watched by the public or ever became a blockbuster. The Refugee and The Marine. Tell me that won't make an excellent title for a movie!