Excerpts

Chapter One Luma The name Luma means "dark lips," though Hassan and Sawsan al-Mufleh chose it for their first child less because of the shade of her lips than because they liked the sound of the name-short, endearing, and cheerful-in the context of both Arabic and English. The al-Mufl ehs were a wealthy, Westernized family in Amman, Jordan, a teeming city of two million, set among nineteen hills and cooled by a swirl of dry desert breezes. The family made its fortune primarily from making rebar-the metal rods used to strengthen concrete-which it sold across Jordan. Hassan had attended a Quaker school in Lebanon, and then college in the United States at the State University of New York in Oswego-"the same college as Jerry Seinfeld," he liked to tell people. Luma's mother, Sawsan, was emotional and direct, and there was never any doubt about her mood or feelings. Luma, though, took after her father, Hassan, a man who mixed unassailable toughness with a capacity to detach, a combination that seemed designed to keep his emotions hidden for fear of revealing weakness. "My sister and my dad don't like people going into them and knowing who they are," said Inam al-Mufl eh, Luma's younger sister byeleven years and now a researcher for the Jordanian army in Amman. "Luma's very sensitive but she never shows it. She doesn't want anyone to know where her soft spot is." As a child, Luma was doted on by her family, sometimes to an extraordinary degree. At the age of three, Luma idly mentioned to her grandmother that she thought her grandparents' new Mercedes 450 SL was "beautiful." The next day, the grandparents' driver showed up at Hassan and Sawsan al-Mufl eh's home with a gift: a set of keys to the Mercedes, which, they were told, now belonged to their threeyear-old daughter. Hassan too doted on his eldest child. He had high expectations for her, and imagined her growing up to fulfi ll the prescribed role of a woman in a prominent Jordanian family. He expected her to marry, to stay close to home, and to honor her family. From the time Luma was just a young girl, adults around her began to note her quiet confi dence, which was so pronounced that her parents occasionally found themselves at a loss. "When we would go to the PTA meetings," Hassan recalled, "they'd ask me, 'Why are you asking about Luma? She doesn't need your help.' " Sometimes, Luma's parents found themselves striving to please their confi dent daughter, rather than the other way around. Hassan recalled that on a family vacation to Spain when Luma was ten or eleven years old, he had ordered a glass of sangria over dinner, in violation of the Muslim prohibition against drinking alcohol. When the drink arrived, Luma began to sob uncontrollably. "She said, 'I love my father too much-I don't want him to go to hell,' " Hassan recalled. He asked the waitress to take the sangria away. "I didn't drink after that," he said. Luma encouraged-or perhaps demanded-that her younger sister, Inam, cultivate self-suffi ciency, often against Inam's own instincts or wishes. "She was a tough older sister-very tough love," Inam said. "She would make me do things that I didn't want to do. She never wanted me to take the easy way out. And she wouldn't accept me crying." Inam said that she has a particularly vivid memory of her older sister's tough love in action. The al-Mufl ehs had gathered with their cousins, as they often did on weekends, at the family farm in a rural area called Mahes, half an hour from Amman. Inam, who was just seven or eight at the time, said that Luma took h Excerpted from Outcasts United: A Refugee Team, an American Town by Warren St. John All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.