I'm going to be able to be able to be predictable.

And one story that always kind of captures my imagination.

It's fair.

The streets lost culture.

And you're listening to Kearning Cultures.

I'm Dana Balut, and this is Cunning Cultures.

It's good that we did this today because Tuesday was kind of crazy.

Our story today starts with Hibba Aidi.

She's a Lebanese American woman in her 30s and grew up between Lebanon and New Jersey.

And I wanted to talk to her because of something that happened to her when she was young.

It might sound unusual to you, but we'll explain a little bit later.

For now, I'm just going to let the tape run.

Here's Hibah.

Okay, it started off when I was around four or five.

Every night when I'd go to sleep, I'd feel like someone's patting my hand and saying, nada, nada, nada, nada.

And that was my early memory of why do I keep having the same reoccurring feeling, and I keep hearing the same name.

And I would talk to my mom, I tell my mom, and she never really said anything until I got older.

And, you know, my mom would call me and I'd say, no, my name is Nada. And I was like three at the time or four. And I'd say, no, my name is Nada. It wasn't just that Hibba was asking her mom to call her Neda. There were other things, too. like she'd sit next to a window of their home in Lebanon,

pretending to make a sandwich for somebody named Amin.

No one in her family was named Amin.

And my mom would say, what are you doing?

And I'd say, I'm waiting for Amin.

...