The scramble, the chaos, the disarray, everyone rushing to the hospital all because of me! Well, all that happened 18 years ago on a sunny day 28th of June 1995 at 04:20 am at Östra hospital in Gothenburg. My heart felt mother ——- gave birth to an awesome, wonderful, amazing son.
My mom says that I had head full of hair and looked like a fur ball. With that, I was 4kg baby. My parents named me —– after my fathers friend named ——–, him and my father were very close when they lived in the same village in Jericho, Palestine, and when my father moved to Sweden, him and —– no longer had the friendship they use to have. That is why my name is Faris. My middle name is ——, and that is also my fathers name. It is pretty much arabic tradition that the sons and daughters gets the fathers name as a middle name. But there are exceptions for example, my brother ——- middle name is Peter, my sister —— middle name is Sanna, and my other sisters’ middle name is Lena. I find it pretty funny that they have swedish middle names.
My mom says she really didn’t have any certain cravings, but that she always was craving food and never gained the weight she should of with the amount of food she ate. She said that one time she woke up in the middle of the night and was craving cheeseburges, so my dad went out and bought some taco bell for her, and once he came back she didn’t want it anymore and wanted an arabic dish called “Mlokhie”. My dad went to the kithen to cook the dish for her and once he was done, my mom was sleeping and didn’t eat any of it.
The Homework on The Fire in My Father’s Hands
When I was a kid, about 5 to 8 years old, my hands would always get cold whenever the surrounding air is chilly. My dad would always tell me to rub them together, like you would in order to make fire. And so I did it. I rubbed and rubbed and rubbed. My fingers grind against each other from the tips of my little fingers to the base of my palm, but none of this worked. My hands still are cold, stone ...
I was born last of six children, so you can easily say that my family is the big stereotypical arab family. So during my upbringing you can say that I got a lot of beatings from my sibling. When I was born we lived in an apartement in Högsbo, and now, 18 years later, me and my father are still living here.
The first months of my life was pretty difficult for me and my parents, when I was only two weeks old I got my first illness, it was the “whooping cough”, and I spent over a month in the hospital after that, but life went on and here I am, writing an essay that is more than a week late. (sorry Mats)
June 28 was a dull day, nothing special happened that day that was worth mentioning. But only one day after I was born the Sampoong Department Store collapsed, it was located in South Korea. The collapse is the largest peacetime disaster in South Korean history as 502 people died and 937 were injured. It was the deadliest building collapse until the September 11 attacks in New York City. This is really horrible, and I had actually never heard of this accident before I was doing this essay.
Celebrity wise, my birthday was kind of dull to, the only name I recognize on the list of celebrities with the same birthday as me is Mel Brooks, and I don’t even know how I know him.
So today is 16th of september, exactly 6655 days after I was born, and I still have a head full of hair, just hoping that I don’t look like a fur ball.
