My parents remember events like the Chernobyl nuclear accident in 1986.
I still remember watching on TV the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989, and I can still recount minute by minute what I was doing on the morning of 9/11.
I also still remember getting news that Kuwait was invaded by Iraq on August 2, 1990. I still remember my dad unpacking the suitcase he prepared for his flight on August 3. I still remember wondering what’s going to happen to my toys, my desk in school, and the swing I used to play on.
The first time I came to Kuwait was in 1982. I was only one and a half years old, and we were actually traveling on to Iraq by car, as my dad used to work there back then. We returned in 1989, and coming from Eastern Europe, to an 8 year old Kuwait was a wonderland. I remember playing in the balls at Hardee’s in Fahaheel, the first time I drank Sprite and ate KitKat, and my first day at school, when I only knew two words in English: Yes and No. I remember loving to go to school though.
During the invasion, I remember watching the news, and praying that the war would be over and one day we would come back.
I remember my best friend, our secrets and good times.
I remember going to the movies in Ahmadi, the first Body Shop in Fahaheel, Fanar being built, and waiting for a table at Friday’s when it was new.
I remember the happiness of returning and the sadness of leaving.