The book I carried from home had followed me to school, a habit that had crossed with me over the Atlantic into the shores of Saudi. The book was an accoutrement independent of my bag, and it is this sartorial detail that the young women in my class must have noticed, how I carried a book in hand even when I had a bag to put it in. How it was like showing off a new jewelry, a new acquisition. And most importantly, how the letters and title of the book were in bold English, a foreign book marked with a highlighter and glaring at their faces.
