Is This Really the World I Live In? Well Then it Sucks!

I followed the trail of chocolate pudding all the way to the girls' bathroom. Poor Sameeha was crying her heart out as she cleaned the chocolate from her face and hijab. I guess she didn't notice me coming in because when I knocked on the wall, she turned around and looked like she might scream. Her hands flew to her head and she turned around.

"Please," she said. "Please turn around."

I looked weirdly at her, but shrugged and turned around.

As I heard the water run and the sound her scrubbed paper towel on some sort of cloth, I ask, "Why?"

"Because my hijab isn't on," she answered scrubbing harder.

"What does it matter if I see you without your hijab? I though it only mattered if a man saw you without one?"

She didn't answer back. After a few more minutes of scrubbing, the water stopped. "Okay, you can turn around now."

I turned. The purple hijab with blue designs on it still had brown stains all over it. I don't think those stains will every come out, the memories of today won't.

As she dried her face with paper towels, she said, "Sorry I asked to you turn around. But I feel ashamed if I'm not wearing my hijab around non-Muslims or men."

I held up my hand. "No need to be. I have a Muslim nanny at my house who's like that too."

Sameeha looked up at me with curiosity-filled eyes. "You have a Muslim nanny?"

I nodded. "Yep. She's not as orthodox as an average Muslim, but she still has a deep faith."

Sameeha nodded and went back to washing her face. I felt bad for her. She use to have a decent amount of friends before all this. I saw in the halls talking with them, laughing and gossiping. Now, where are they? Did some leave because, just like Mary, they thought 9/11 was her fault? Or are they scared of her now? Either way, she was alone now. Sad. Really sad.

I walked up to her and handed her another paper towel. "Hey Sameeha, would your guardians or whoever's looking after you, allow you to come over to my house for dinner?"

She looked at me like I just told her I was black. Taking the paper towel, she wiped the final smudge of pudding on her face.

"I . . . I think they might," she said. "I might have to call them."

"There's a payphone downstairs. You can use my coins if you want."

Sameeha looked like she was about to cry. She nodded. Grabbing her bag from the counter, she walked out of the bathroom. Before she left, she turned around and smile a thin smile. "Thank you." And she was gone.

School for the rest of the day was just plain awkward. Word had gotten around of what happened at lunch, now people were either angry or scared of me. Even the teachers were keeping a close eye on me. I couldn't believe this was happening. I thought at least someone would say something to me. But no, no. They all just gave me side glances and continued their reading or whatever. It never struck that this is how people could really act. I have one word for that . . . and I won't say it because then I'll have to pay Uncle Thomas a dollar for swearing.

I waited for Sameeha near her locker ten minutes after the bell. It was when the hallway was practically empty that she finally came. I walked up to her. "What happened? Why are you late?"

She slowly put in her lock combination. "I hid in the bathroom after class and waited until most the kids had left."

I raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

She didn't answer right away. After putting away her books and closing her locker she looked at. "The hallways aren't safe for me. People have been bumping into me purposely. One boy knocked down my books and kids started kicking them around. When I showed up late to class and explained what happened, the teacher still marked me down anyway." She bit down on her bottom lip. I could tell she was trying hard not to cry.

I wrapped my arms around her, patting her one the back like a child. We started walking to the corner where Kakali usually picks me up.

"And who's your friend?" Kakali asked when we got into the car.

"Oh sorry." I buckled my seatbelt. "Kakali, this is Sameeha. I invited her to dinner tonight. I hope you don't mind."

Kakali shook her head. "No not at all. Is it alright with her parents?"

Sameeha nodded her head.

The car ride was a silent all the way home. Sameeha sat quietly in the back while I sat in the front with Kakali. Kakali asked the usual questions to me and I said fine to all of them (even though it was far from fine). Looking up in the review mirror to Sameeha, she asked her, "So Sameeha I detect a little accent from you. If you don't mind me asking, where exactly do you come from?"

Sameeha looked down at her hands which were folded on her lap. "Iraq," she said in barely a whisper.

Kakali's eyebrows shot up. "You don't say? My cousin lives there with her husband and children."

Sameeha looked up slightly. "Really?"

"Oh yes. Of course she was born in India like me, but she moved there for her job when she married."

"You're from India?" Sameeha asked, sitting up straight.

Kakali nodded proudly. "Yes I am." She laughed a little. "Faith-wise, I am one hundred percent Muslim. Everything else about me is pure Indian. Like, I took belly dancing when I was younger, went to Indian festivals, sometimes I would even celebrate Indian holidays with my Hindu friends."

Sameeha's eyebrows shot up. "You did that? It didn't interfere with your faith at all?"

"Well it did a little, but not too much. My friends had their beliefs, I had mine. Besides, I liked seeing other cultures other than my own. I never let my religion get in the way of exploring the rest of the world. I think Allah intended on everyone to be different. If not life would be boring don't you think?"

Sameeha nodded sitting back into her seat.

I smiled at Kakali. She was wise, cunning, and smart. I wonder if she too had a day like Sameeha. She was a Muslim after all. Didn't matter if she had a hijab or not. As soon as people heard her name or heard her talk, there would be problems.

Kakali looked up in the review mirror at Sameeha again and furrowed her brows. "Sameeha, what happened to your hijab?"

Sameeha and I froze. We both looked at each other in the review mirror.

"I-I got some food on it at lunch today by accident," Sameeha lied.

An unconvincing look came on Kakali's face but she didn't say anything. "Well, if you want, I help try to get those stains out when we get home," she offered.

Sameeha shook her head. "No it's okay." She bowed a little. "But thank you."

Dinner eventually came. Uncle Thomas didn't mind one bit about Sameeha joining us for dinner.

That night was pasta night, and Sameeha seemed to be enjoying it a lot.

"Do you have pasta at your house?" Jaime asked.

"Sometimes," Sameeha said. "But most of the time my guardians try to cook foods from my home. But we still eat regular American foods. My favorite American food is ice cream. It's so cold a sweet; I could eat it all day."

"Lucky," I said. "I'm lactose intolerant. If I have ice cream all day I wouldn't live to see another."

We all laughed. Kakali continued to bring dishes out. It was a real feast we were having. Kakali had made us penne, Angel's hair, shells, and regular macaroni, with sides of Alfredo, pasta sauce, and butter.

"Just a few more minutes," Kakali said. "The lasagna is not quite ready yet."

Uncle Thomas nodded. "That's fine Kakali." He turned to Sameeha. "So Sameeha, tell me. How are you enjoying your time in America?"

Sameeha was quite for a while. I clutched my napkin as she continued looking at her empty plate. "I love it," she finally answered, with a small smile. "Even though the culture here is different than in my home country, there is still more opportunity. And, I think there's more opportunity here than in Iraq because there's more freedom. Not many people in my old home have opportunities to become doctors or lawyers or scientists."

Uncle Thomas nodded. "Now, as a girl, would you be offered the same opportunities here in your old home?"

Sameeha shrugged. "I'm not too sure. Although some places are becoming more liberal, others are still keeping to tradition, tradition that includes separating women from society. That's why I came here to do my studies. I hope to go to college and become a Pediatrician."

Uncle Thomas raised his eyebrows. "Really? Why?"

"Children in Iraq suffer from poor nutrition and health. I hope to treat those children, and maybe even lead a reform to help rural children in the country area."

The three of us stared at her. What an amazing young girl! She came here to help those in her country. And she was so intelligent too. How could anyone in our school possibly treat her bad? It's just wrong.

Kakali came out with the lasagna. I licked my lips. I don't know what Kakali puts in that lasagna, but it was to die for.

Kakali served us each a piece. Before we could start eating, Sameeha bowed her head. "Bismillah ar-Rahman, ar-Raheem. Al humdu lil Allahil lazi at'amanaa wasaqaana waja'alana minal muslimeen."

She then began eating. So did Jaime and Uncle Thomas. I was the only one sitting there with their mouth open. "Okay," I said. "What-what just happened here?"

Uncle Thomas looked at me. "Lucy."

"No, I'm just asking. Because I just heard a sentence with words surrounded by the word Allah. What was it a prayer?"

Sameeha nodded. "Yes. It's was like a-how would you say?-prayer of thanksgiving that Muslims say before we eat. What I said was, 'In the name of God, Most Gracias. Thank you, oh Allah for feeding us and making us amongst the believers."

I looked at her in amusement. How interesting. A Muslim thanksgiving prayer. I wonder if Kakali says that prayer too? She always eats in the kitchen so I wouldn't really know.

As a treat, while we were eating dinner, Kakali went out and bought ice cream for Sameeha. Then afterwards, when Sameeha's guardian, a nice woman named Mrs. Spencer, came to pick her up, Kakali gave something to Sameeha in a little bag.

When Sameeha opened the bag, there was a beautiful golden silk hijab in it. Sameeha smile more widely than I have ever seen her smile.

"Thank you!" she said. "Thank you so much! But I couldn't accept."

She handed in back to Kakali, but Kakali held up her hands and shook her head. "No it's okay. I have other hijabs, and this has out grown me anyway." She smiled at Sameeha. "You'll look like a flower in it."

Sameeha left with a smile on her face, a new hijab on her head, and my phone number written down on a paper in her pocket.

"She said she wanted to see a movie with me on Saturday," I told Uncle Thomas as I was getting ready for bed.

He smiled. "That's nice. I'm sure you'll both enjoy yourself."

Before I went to my room, Uncle Thomas stopped. "Now tell me, what really happened in school today?"

I sighed and explained to him everything, from Mary Turner, to the pudding, to the teacher.

Uncle Thomas hung his head in dismay and shook his head. "Okay, thank you Lucy. You did the right thing today."

I lifted an eyebrow. "Even slap Mary Turner?"

"Okay, maybe you could've lived without that, but I'm very proud you stood up for Sameeha, and stood up against that teacher." He tickled my chin. "My little liberalist."

I giggled. Before I head off, I looked up to Uncle Thomas. "Uncle Thomas?"

He looked at me. "Yes?"

"I never knew there were people like that in the world. I never knew they were really there."

Uncle Thomas sighed. "Unfortunately Lucy, that's the bad part about being a child. You think the world and it's people are perfect. Truth is, it's not even close."