أعمال. [African-American & Arabic Love.]

كبار السنة.

الحصول على تسوية.; Getting settled in. [Picture of Dubai on the side.]

We were now entering a car. My mom rented us a personal cab-driver. The sun beamed down on us, Dubai was very hot. But I mean we are in the freaking desert - what did I expect?  I had only been here for a few minutes, and tiny beads of sweat were dripping down my forehead. I let out a sigh of relief as the cool air-conditioning hit my face. "Mar'Haban." The Indian taxi driver spoke, blandly. "Good morning!" My mom spoke cheerfully, as she brushed her bangs away from her face. "Ah, you from Africa, no?" He asked as he looked from my hair to my face.

I frowned slightly. Did everyone assume I was from Africa because of my hair? I thought we had an American accent, also. "Er.. No. We're from America. But we do have Sudanese decent." I added the last part cheerfully, remembering that my great-grandmother was from Sudan. "America! Uh..You know Obama?" He asked excitedly, earning a chuckle from me and my Mom. "I wish!" My mom replied, a smile resting on her face.

"Oh, Uh ; Mr.Ali, Would you mind if we got something from the store?" My mom asked, once she realized we were pulling up to a gas-station. I couldn't help but notice how the licence-plates on all the cars looked so strange compared to the ones in America. "No problem, miss. Go ahead." He replied, his thick Indian accent making it a tad bit harder for me to understand. "Come on, 'Liyah." My mom spoke as she hopped out of the car, and sashayed into the store. I held back a laugh. How was she so energetic? I'm so tired, and exhausted right now. 

As we walked into the store, all eyes landed on me. Ugh, was it the hair? I questioned myself, and my eyes found themselves landing on a woman. Who was in all black, completely covered. I couldn't even see her face ; or eyes. Which creeped me out, and I instantly looked away. I quickly grabbed a bottle of water, and handed it to the Filipino woman, who rang up our things. When her eyes landed on my hair, she instantly reached to it. "Ooh, your hair. It's so nice. Can I touch it?" I gave her a small shrug, as she took one of my curls in her hand, and touched it. "Its soft!" She said, in a suprised voice. Uh.. Did she expect it to be crunchy, or something? My mom grabbed my arm, gently leading me outside, into the taxi. 

"Oh god, 'Liyah. You shouldv'e seen the way you were looking at that Filipino woman!" She added, as she irrupted into a fit of laughter. I let out a loud snort.  We were in a hotel, and it was amazing. "I swear it's like they act like.. They've never seen black people before, or something." I replied after I took a small sip of my water. Ive been kind of quiet lately. I miss Houston, but I havent really gave Dubai a chance.

I sat up straight, and looked at my mom, who was eyeballing something on her phone. "Did you bring the flat-iron?" I asked, and she nodded. "Yup. In the bag." I quickly stood, up & fished out the flat-iron. I batted my eyelashes at my mom. "Mind flat-ironing my hair?" I flashed her a smile. "Ugh, fineeee, lil girl. But you owe me a good foot massage." I pursed my lips together. Ooof, I hate feet. "Mom, you know I hate feet," I whined, and she shrugged. "Guess you don't want your hair done." I giggled, and rolled my eyes. "Ugh, fine you win. Flat-iron for a foot massage." I plugged up the flat iron, and she came over, inspecting my hair. "Aaliyah, you have so much hair. This is gonna take me about 2-hours." I just smirked, and plugged in my headphones, as Beyonce played.