Estrella

Returning from Jordan, there was not much time for jetlag to take its toll on my body or to reflect at long hours on my first introduction to the Middle East or to consider the effects of culture shock.   I was jolted back into American society, which pop music, pop culture, English as a first language, and many more options for how to spend my hours.   It was good to be home, but the day-to-day experiences were vastly different from how I spent my past days in Jordan. Culture shock was bound to hit me, but I didn’t think it would be so delayed.   Getting off the plane nearly a week ago in my hometown, I thought I would be culture shocked in that moment to see so much green land, but it felt more like a homecoming.   Eating out several times already was bound to make me question what American society is doing to its people, but it didn’t.   I was out and about with my dad, driving down one of the longest roads in St. Louis, Manchester Road, when I noticed how m

This past weekend was Memorial Day weekend.  The great American flag was flying high in nearly everyone’s front yard and, of course, regularly at the banks, McDonald’s, and other places.  I returned from Jordan to find that a flag of my country was not on everyone’s license plate or in his or her car, or how a picture of the beloved ruler was in everyone’s car or business establishment.  In Jordan, there were copies of the Jordanian flag or HRM King Abdullah II everywhere in sight.  Yet, I noticed that if any Missourian had a flag, it wasn’t necessarily Missouri’s flag or the “Don’t Tread on Me” flag, which has become a symbol of the Tea Party, but the U.S. flag.  State rights are important, but what has united us all – Americans – was our right to citizenship.  Yet, that struggle for citizenship continues for many immigrants to the U.S., some who have worked, studied and lived in the U.S. for most of their lives. What does it mean to be a citizen?  To Jordanians it w