Fanta by the Pool

The recreation center was my PG13 childhood; but as uneventful as it was, it was always exciting to walk through those doors.

Joana had her moments there, Tareq and Mohamed had their moments, and I think I did too. 

‘We’re Lina’s children’, my sister would answer whenever the receptionist asked; ironically, they’d always know which Lina she meant. 

Looking back, I have to say, my sister was a bad ass, still is, in fact. She had this commanding aura surrounding her at all times and it was jaw-dropping. 

I remember once in the school, during recess, some boys from her class were having a laugh on behalf of my stutter and I was trying to shrug it off like a ‘big boy’, but my sister was having none of it, she had them shivering and biting their nails by the end of it, and for the first time, the cool kids were apologizing to me.

’Hey, that’s Joana’s brother; how’s it going?’, that’s how things were after my sister stepped in.

Movies spoon-feed the idea that having big brother is what it’s all about, but having a big sister is always having a safe haven in your back pocket. 

Whenever I think of the recreation center, I think of my siblings. I remember my sister always going there to play basketball and hang out with her friends and that boyfriend my parents ‘didn’t know about’. My brothers and I were always allowed to tag along; although Joana never said no to the idea, we knew we’d just be a nuisance, it wasn’t our scene just yet.

When it came to my brothers, I’d always wedge myself into their recreation center plans whenever they’d go to ‘spontaneously’ meet their high school crushes. 

I never had that sort of experience, or at least I think I didn’t, and by that, I mean I never had a recreation center crush.

I remember how it all started; my dad used to take us there on Fridays back when Joana was still too young to drive and weekends were still Thursdays and Fridays. I still didn’t know how to swim at the time, and all I did was sit on the edge of the pool or sit on my dad’s lap whenever he’d be talking to his buddies; to a wide-eyed kid, I was Richie Rich living the high life.
But then, my dad decided to carry me, hurl me into the water, and send my sister after me so I don’t drown. I thought he was declaring war on me for always ruining his brobro hangouts, but he opened up my world and taught me how to swim. 

Our experiences started converging once Joana got her driver’s license; dad started taking the passenger seat and we started riding shot gun, and most times, dad just stayed at home on Fridays, watching the premier league or some Steven Seagal movie on MBC 2.

My sister, being the Commander-in-Chief of our makeshift squad, would let us know what time we’d go to the center to avoid people, burn the mix CD which of Britney Spears, Linkin Park, and Backstreet Boys, and pack the tanning oil and towels for all of us. 

And just like that, out the door went the Ragheb Alama cassette and in came the Linkin Park and Co. CD.

It was no longer dad’s free day to have fun with the guys, it was our time to have Fanta and fries by the pool.

Everyone loves jumping into a large blue box of water, but once you’ve had Fanta by the water, it’s never going to be the same; every sip away from any body of water will always be underwhelming. 

The main attraction was always going to be the swimming pool, but they were missing out on the Fanta and fries combo.