I turned forty not so long ago, and was kind of sad that nothing much was happening to mark that year of my life. I was hoping that my life was going to give me something for my birthday.
Then, a few months later, I was offered a job in Kuwait. I went there and started working as a teacher. Months passed, and then something remarkable happened. I started seeing the number 40 everywhere I went -- on posters, on flags hanging from buildings -- everywhere. Then I learned that it was the 40th anniversary of Kuwait's Independence.
As weeks went by, the country changed to a very festive mood. Skyscrapers had windows lit up in sich a way that a number 40 would be formed. Electric garlands were all around the city. Fireworks were being shot into the air. 40! 40! 40! I had pictures, placards and billboards scream at me every place I went. I was 40 years old, on the other side of the world, walking around in daze among the biggest birthday bash I could ever have.
I did not know anything about Kuwait before I went there, much less that our birthdays coincided.
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