Time to get some stuff off my chest...

So… It’s been a long time since I took to the keyboard to write about being Fahful. Almost to the point that I have forgotten what was Fahful about me to begin with.

It’s awful the amount of time that has passed and I apologize to myself first and foremost for not taking the time to unload my thoughts onto the world wide web. I have certainly done a disservice to my sanity and personal growth by not writing. As for you, I apologize if this post doesn’t make sense. It’s hard to apologize for more than that in my first public appearance this decade...

Today’s main event is that I am no longer in my 20’s. It is hard to admit but I will just throw it out there and get it over with. There is no going back anyway, right?! I spent my 29^th year in a constant inner-struggle with boredom, motivation, and happiness. Defining them each, redefining, and focusing on each one alone and as a part of a greater existence.  I was so bored with life and unmotivated to change it… I was hardly ever happy. That’s my second confession, by the way. When I was 19 I was on top of my game and a ladder-climbing, name-taking, degree-earning winner. Ten years later I live in a twilight zone of a world without me – the real me, the Fahful me. The over-achieving little girl who lied about how old she was so people would take her seriously is missing. The need for success if still there but the oomph is not. I really hope that the fact that my last blog was about getting married doesn’t mean that there is a direct correlation. But I have been burned out and I am hopefully now getting my second wind. And nobody gave me the evil eye… I just burned out. It happens.

But today I have something way worse to admit. And for once I won’t talk about Politics or Religion… but Pop Culture. Is it a crime to say that I like Miley Cyrus? I can answer that as a “probably.” Here in Egypt I see an episode or two a week of her on MBC 3… in that kids’ show where she’s always fighting with her Billy Ray Cyrus dad and acting out fake high school shenanigans. And then when I flip the channel I see her twerking on MTV. So I think it’s safe to say I didn’t like her at all. Her Teddy Bear stint and her nasty plastic shorts and her long tongue and her misuse of a foam fan finger, and her finger tattoos. The list goes on and on; she is just really gross. But then it happened. I saw the video where she was crying (Wrecking Ball). And suddenly I thought I could relate. I thought she was gorgeous, deep and maybe a respectable entertainer. Of course she was clearly crying for attention, and she got mine. She went from being a mischievous Hannah Montana to being a button-pushing artist. And I like that? Has my taste in music changed that much or has the music itself changed? Or is it cool to like Pop music suddenly? I am really confused. And when did Hannah Montana stop being a little girl? How did this happen? Where was I?

And then there’s Katy Perry. Who I suddenly think is the most amazing performer ever. She was adorbs in the EMAs as a human maypole. And her song Roar has the catchiest lyrics ever… and the music video is extremely entertaining. I feel like she is only borderline selling her body… no more than any other girl.  And then I was afraid to search for her other videos. I had no idea how cute she was in Last Friday Night (TGIF). Is there any other artist who costumed up as an awkward teen and was cute?!   And her song Part of Me explains every girl’s struggle! And I had no idea that she was in Smurfs… now I love her even more! So how did I miss her? I mean she was even cute in 2001 as a Christian singer-songwriter!! How did she exist without someone notifying me? Or did THEY attempt to notify me but I rebuffed because I was afraid of Pop Culture infiltrating my playlist.

Fourth statement of fact: I don’t like Lady Gaga. But then again I have no reason to dislike her apart from that I don’t like her because everyone talks about her like she’s cool. And by default I am not supposed to like things that are cool. I’ve never listened to her, but I may have to give her a try since the other girls this year are so entertaining! Or since my standards have lowered… whichever is true.

I have never ever liked what was popular or MTV-worthy. I always listened to the alternative stations, or better-yet a CD or iPod with my own favorites or even-better indie mixes made by college friends of obscure bands from Europe or Seattle. Whatever was not popular was blasting from my stereo. Whoever I remember being cool was never cool to everyone else at the time that I thought they were cool. Does that make sense? I was obsessed with Oasis when everyone else didn’t care about them anymore. I saw Phantom Planet three times when they were still “Missing”… before the song California got them some airtime. And the Dance Hall Crashers. And Ani DiFranco. And Counting Crows. And the Wallflowers. And Tegan and Sara. I loooove Tegan and Sara. And yes some terrible “likes” along the way... ahem, ICP. But it’s been awhile since I followed the Top 40.

So did moving to Egypt make me “cooler” - because I suddenly feel like my finger is on the pulse of the American music scene as we speak!! Last time I felt this good I was listening to Kasey Kasem on America’s Top 40's in my oversized flannel shirt and ripped jeans…. Hugging my tabby cat and eating Itzakadoozies… back then Blink-182 was the BOMB!! (Back then Bombs were cool still.)

So are these women not cool since I like them? Or am I cool since I like them? Or is there no relationship between my musical taste and me? Or was there a secret military coup where cool people regained control of MTV?

Or has the illuminati finally gotten into my home… and taken over my brain? (It took 10 years for Fah to lose her pace; And it took 2 for Miley to change her place. Minus one dearly departed... 10+2-1=11. OooOooh….)

My cool friends who follow Adele and Morrissey and Lana Del Rey and Café Del Mar and Radiohead will laugh that I’m a “born again FOB.” But I still like the good stuff too.

It is THE HARDEST THING to admit today. I’m 30 year old Ex-Pat with questionable musical taste.

###

BTW I got hitched

Salaam!
Well its been almost exactly a year since I last blogged... Not that I have been very good at blogging in the first place. But I need to update the cyber world on whats going on in Fah's life.
December 24th 2009 I got married. :-) His name is Tammer... He's from Al-Arish, the city I have lived in the past 2 years here in Egypt. He's a dreamy, kind, laid-back businessman. Totally different than me in every way... Those who know me know that I am not laid-back at all. And maybe thats what keeps us strong. He claims he met me almost a year before we officially met. He saw me at work and thought it was intriguing to see a woman in a suit... managing a staff of men. So from the get go he knew I was bossy. LOL.
I was pretty sure my dad would not approave. But love prevails over all... and we got married! Is it strange to say that I knew from the day I met him I would be his wife.? And within 3 months we got hitched... We probably would have wed quicker if I was back home, but I waited for my dad and brothers to come and get the party started. Ofcourse!
I have to say alhamdullah for everything that has happened this year. Maybe the moment I began writing I wanted to talk about how work sucks and I don't want to eat bamia for dinner or how I was making Tamar Hindi yesterday and the pitcher blew up in my hands. But writing about the wedding makes me smile. (And that never happens at Sinai University).
We honeymooned briefly in Sharm and then got back to working. We both took tons of time off from work. Not that we are independently wealthy individuals... but you only get married once!
Maybe my lack of updating has been due to wedding planning, honeymooning and getting back into the swing of work. I surely want to share with everyone how happy we are. And how I want everyone back home to meet the Mr.
I have 15 minutes till I get to go home and watch the French Open Final.: Nadal vs. Soderling. Definitely a Nadal fan (since Federer is out)! And eat Bamia. (Say it: Bil Hana Wa Shifa!)

Observations from the Arab World: President Obama's Address to Muslims

Politics this century have too often been about differentiating and alienating. President Barack Hussein Obama took a different approach towards resetting Americaís relationship with Arabs and Muslims last Thursday. He has defined his politics as being about inclusion and cooperation. 

I personally can speak to how his message was received in the Arab Republic of Egypt in Al-Arish, a small coastal town located in the Sinai Peninsula. From the beachfront to the business district every single person was watching or listening to the address. Universities, schools and government offices all closed officially on Thursday to welcome the US President. 

By now everyone has commented on President Obama's seven points. I imagine that someday the issues will be put in bulleted print in a high school history textbook. The chapter headline will read something like: "The Beginning of Peace and Understanding." But right now, right here in Egypt the headlines inquisitively ask if he will fulfill his promises. Muslims here have reasons to be fearful and distrustful of US foreign relations. This region is tainted by war, sanctions and bad politics. Regardless, Arabs and Muslims were all ears.

Before the speech my family was making dinner plans. We decided to order prepared and delivered fish from the market so that we can all watch the live broadcast. Five minutes after the speech, we wondered where dinner was. When called, the cook apologized for the delay as they were watching the broadcast as well. Every single Egyptian was watching.

Growing up as a Muslim in America, I knew what our Politicians didn't; that my people were contributing to the nation. Kansas City in particular is blessed with a large, diverse community based in interfaith work, understanding and respect. I was ecstatic to hear my country's president recognize the efforts that have long gone unnoticed. These words weren't just relationship-building for Muslims abroad; they also reset the damaged relationship with Muslims back home in the US. 

President Obama visited a mosque and respected it by removing his shoes. When he spoke he began with a traditional "Salaam Alaikum" (Peace be with you). He went so far as to say "Peace be upon him" when he said the name Prophet Mohammed as a sign of respect for our religious leader. And when he spoke of values like peace, honesty and respect he quoted from our holy book, the Qur'an. Throughout the day every Egyptian citizen I came across could be found quoting from his speech. 

He also opened up several topics never-before discussed in this manner. Speaking about stereotypes, democracy, Guantanimo, Iraq, Iran, women's rights and the Israeli-Palestinian conflict he opened up debate amongst Arabs. He didn't solve the issues, but the theme for his visit was accomplished. It is definitely a new beginning for the relationship between the US and the Arab world.

President Obama learned firsthand that we are listening with open minds. Egyptians want to know if he will quell the ongoing violence in the West Bank and Gaza - violence that threatens Egypt's borders. Americans want to know if they will be safe to practice their own religion within America without being stereotyped. We are all listening and waiting to see what is the next step for President Obama.

War on Palestine

As usual I haven't posted in a month and there is a lot on my mind.

Probably the biggest question I have now is what I should be doing. I have a strong urge to go back home and be with people I love and miss. 

But I have an equally strong urge to cross the border into Palestine, into Gaza. I need to be doing something meaningful, but I don't know what. I donated blood, I'm type O, which seems to help out more often than not.

But I need to do more than bleed for them. I need to work. 

I'm just thinking out loud. Who has advice?

I hear the sounds, see the planes and have seen the trucks after trucks taking much-needed goods to Palestine. But there are not enough of those trucks and the border is not nearly open long enough to get things through. I see the trucks brining wounded people to our hospitals. At first it seemed like alot was happening, there were a few peaceful protests and we donated blood in the hospitals. But I keep wondering what else we can do to help? Clearly Egypt is not doing enough, and neither is the rest of the world.

Egyptians seem to be afraid. At lest those here in Al Arish. Everytime we hear a war plane flying overhead everyone says a small prayer thinking it will be their last. But somehow I think the people are equally afraid of the Palestinians breaking to border. They need anything and everything. They are living in substandard impoverished conditions. When they do come, as the inevitably must - they will finish the rice and flour and medical supplied and will all be homeless on our streets here. But why? Shouldn't Egypt do something else? Shouldn't America do something else? Shouldn't I do something else? We can't be silent!

They were wrong; uncertainty killed the cat

Before you jump to conclusions... Obama (the kitten) is doing okay. He's clean, he doesn't have fleas, and he only pees outside the litter box once a day.

Our generation needs one thing right now. We need to know that tomorrow we will have a nice place to live, justice, a caring government, a place to raise kids, or to know that we can just live in peace. But right now, we need to know if we have jobs.

I left the states on a prolonged vacation when my employer went under. And the employer before that left me victim to downsizing. I just graduated with my Master's and all along the way thought that if I study hard and earned good results and built a good resume I would have employers chasing after me. In the end I felt hopeless. I was uncertain where I would be in 6 months, let alone in 6 days. So maybe I made some quick decisions, just to say I made a decision.

I never wanted to be a statistic. An unemployed professional, or worst an underemployed one. When I finished my Bachelor's, I never left retail. And I know far too many people who have finished their Master's and never left waiting tables. Is that what my generation wants?

We want to know that we have a place in society and we can contribute to America's success just as our parents did, and their parent's did.

But hold on, uncertainty and fear don't only plague the kids at home. It plagues our generation around the world.

I'm currently working at a private University in Sinai. And with me I have seen many unemployed, underemployed, and underpaid. I currently work with an individual with a Bachelor's and experience and references galore who is making 600 EGP a month and working 8am to midnight, traveling with the boss and getting not a cent in overtime. Thats pretty much the story around the copy machine. Everyone is overworked and underpaid. 

So what are we to do? Not everyone can hop a plane to change their scenery and open up a new opportunity. And who is to say that is the best option anyway? I'm doing far more in my current position than I have in my entire life. I'm using every course I ever took at the Bloch school to do everything from handle student transactions to audit income and expenses to administer payroll to writing a budget for the entire University. But in the end my boss gets the credit. 

Okay, chalk it up to experience. But when can we stop doing things to get experience, and actually start doing things because we are good at it?

All this uncertainty is killing me. At first maybe I was curious as to see what would be next and what the future holds. Now I'm just scared. And I'm not scared just for me; I'm scared for a whole generation that is doomed to be overworked, overeducated and under-appreciated.

What a negative blog entry, my apologies. But its definitely on my mind and I think needed to be said.

I'll try to write something nice tomorrow.

Obama is growing while I work

I haven't blogged in almost 2 months.

I think I haven't quite gotten the hang of telling people what's going on in my life.

So maybe I will put some bullets for now... Or just brainstorm the things on my mind.

I got a kitten for my birthday from Ahmed.

I named him Obama, after the president-elect who I adore.

I went to the embassy on Election day to do a write-in ballot because my absentee paperwork never came.

That was an ordeal.

Right now in my small town, Al Arish, we are out of Petrol (gasoline), cooking oil and flour because the Palestinians have been without for months and have broken the border to get the basic necessities.

I'm now wearing a Palestian kafeya in solidarity.

My grandma is Saudia Arabia to make Hajj.

Others from my extended are making Hajj.

I have been visiting people to wish them well on their journey.

Work is terrific and terrible in the same sentence.

I have the first wireless router in Al Arish.

That wireless router doesn't work.

I'm trying to figure out how to make a traditional Thanksgiving dinner because I miss American eats. Suggestions?

I miss my friends back home a lot, especially this time of year.

This is the first year in 8 years I didn't work a retail Xmas.

Its strange.

I'm feeling a lot of pressure to take over a failing financial department.

But I still love my job.

My kitten is getting fat.

I have laundry piling up and no time to do it.

I'm afraid to get anything dry cleaned here, because if they ruin it, there is no Express here to get a replacement shirt/slacks/jacket.

There is a FedEx here in Al Arish, which is pretty cool.

And, believe it or not, Al Arish is really cold this time of year. I'm told it gets colder in December and January.

I bought a trendy black double-breasted pea coat for 500 EGP.

I miss my dad, we used to talk all the time about everything.

I can talk to my Uncle Alaa and thats all fine and dandy and he is a lot like my dad; but its not the same.

I need to set up my MajickJack so that I can have a number for all my US family/friends to call.

I miss Nuqta, Obama is much meaner. (see the picture, I have a scratch above my left eye)

I still haven't fixed my Wii or my wireless printer, and I broke my second phone somehow.

My Arabic has gotten substantially better and my spoken English remarkably worse.

I need a car.

This city is small enough to do things walking, but its not really safe enough to walk everywhere at any time.

There are literally families fighting here over blood. Like they kill each other.

I think thats it.

Oh and I beat the whole Sudoku game in my phone, so I need a new game.

Over and out.

Hey Mr. Larkin

I wanted to share a few songs that I think are amazing. iTunes' Genius has helped me discover a few of these. I will paste lyrics below, I think lyrics really make the song. I also think I may not have time to write a full blog, but maybe the gushy lyrics, soft melodies or political undertones of selected songs will tell you a little how I feel now...

 If anyone has the guitar tab for these songs, hook a sister up.

"Mr. Larkin" by State Radio

"Casimir Pulaski Day" by Sufjan Stevens

"Our Brown Friends" by Lola Ray

"The Luckiest" by Ben Folds

"Sixteen Military Wives" by The Decemberists

"Falling Down" by Oasis

----

Mr. Larkin... by State Radio

I work in the kitchen

At an old folk's home

I do my best but I too am getting on

I do the dishes but lately I been breaking plates

See as I get older my hands are starting to shake

So Mr Larkin

See I got to hold this job

Did you misspeak when you told me

She was all but gone

Mr LArkin

Dock me my one week's pay

But don't ask me to leave

I can't afford that today

Ten years ago my wife took sick

So I brought her here

My job I quit

I started working for the home

So I could be by her everyday

We couldn't afford the cost in any other way

So, So Mr Larkin see I

I know she knows who I am

Every now and then she'll squeeze my hand

It's what I live for it's why she don't die

So Mr Larkin won't you give me this try

I walk to work on route 27

I see the same cars pass everyday

And through all this New England weather

You know never once have I been late

So Mr. Larkin see I

I know she knows who I am

Every now and then she'll squeeze my hand

It's what I live for it's why she don't die

So Mr. Larkin won't you give me this try

I see the argument you're making

And I understand you got to do your job

And believe me I know shes turning angel

But you see this woman is all I got

So Mr Larkin see I

I know she know who I am

Every now and then she'll squeeze my hand

It's what I live for it's why she don't die

So Mr. Larkin won't you give me this try

----

Casimir Pulaski Day... by Sufjan Stevens

Golden rod and the 4-H stone

The things I brought you

When I found out you had cancer of the bone

Your father cried on the telephone

And he drove his car to the Navy yard

Just to prove that he was sorry

In the morning through the window shade

When the light pressed up against your shoulder blade

I could see what you were reading

Oh the glory that the lord has made

And the complications you could do without

When I kissed you on the mouth

Tuesday night at the bible study

We lift our hands and ray over your body

But nothing ever happens

I remember at Michael's house

In the living room when you kissed my neck

And I almost touched your blouse

In the morning at the top of the stairs

When your father found out what we did that night

And you told me you were scared

Oh the glory when you ran outside

With your shirt tucked in and your shoes untied

And you told me not to follow you

Sunday night when I cleaned the house

I find the card where you wrote it out

With the pictures of your mother

On the floor at the great divide

With my short tucked in and my shoes untied 

I am crying in the bathroom

In the morning when you finally go

And the nurse runs in with her head hung low

And the cardinal hits the window

In the morning in the winter shade

On the first of March on the holiday

I thought I saw you breathing

Oh the glory that the lord has made

And the complications when I see his face

In the morning in the window

Oh the glory when he took our place

But he took my shoulders and he shook my face

And he takes and he takes and he takes

----

Our Brown Friends... by Lola Ray

Two fat men were walking through the forest

Walking though the forest

Both of them in chorus

Of my god it's a tiny little native

Tiny little native

Thank god we found him

We're just hanging out so please go home

We ain't talking that loud so leave us alone

Burn the huts and rape the women

Show them how to save their souls

Toss the sinners in the bonfire

Teach them how to love control

Cast them out and point the finger

Blame them for what's wrong these days

Turn them into perfect people

Team them how to love control

Control. Control. Control.

Two fat pigs were walking down the street

And walking through the park

And looking for some trouble

Came upon a ratty little faggot

Whiny little faggot

We're just hanging out so please go home

We ain't talking that loud so leave us alone

We've got questions if you've got the answers

If you've got no answers, we have got some questions

What's hot eight legs

And a giant ego

Fleeing like a demon

Staring at his Jesus

We're just hanging out so please go home

We ain't talking that loud so leave us alone

Burn the huts and rape the women

Show them how to save their souls

Toss the sinners in the bonfire

Teach them how to love control

Cast them out and point the finger

Blame them for what's wrong these days

Turn them into perfect people

Teach them how to love control

Control. Control. Control.

----

The luckiest... by Ben Folds

I don't get many things right the first time

In fact, I am told that a lot

Now I know all the wrong turns, the stumbles and falls

Brought me here

And where was I before the day

That I first saw your lovely face?

Now I see it everyday

And I know

That I am

I am

I am

The luckiest

What if I'd been born fifty years before you

In a house on a street where you lived?

Maybe I'd be outside as you passed on your bike

Would I know?

And in a white sea of eyes

I see one pair that I recognize

And I know

That I am

I am

I am

The luckiest

I love you more than I have ever found a way to say to you

Next door there's an old man who lived to his nineties

Then one day passed away in his sleep

And his wife, she stayed for a couple of days

And passed away

I'm sorry, I know that's strange way to tell you that I know we belong

That I know

That I am

I am

I am

The luckiest

----

Sixteen Military Wives... by The Decemberists

Sixteen military wives

Thirty-two softly focused brightly colored eyes

Staring at the natural tan

of thirty-two  gently clenched wrinkled little hands

Seventeen company men

Out of which only twelve will make it back again

Sergeant sends a letter to five

Military wives, whose tears drip through ten little eyes

Cheer them on to their rivals

Cause America can, and America can't say no

And America does, if America says it's so

It's so!

And the anchorperson on TV goes...

La de da de da

Fifteen celebrity minds

Leading their fifteen sordid wretched checkered lives

Will they find the solution in time

Using their fifteen pristine moderate liberal minds?

Eighteen academy chairs

Our of which only seven really even care

Doling out the garland to five

Celebrity minds, they're humbly taken by surprise

Cheer them on to their rivals

Cause America can, and America can't say no

And America does, if America says it's so

It's so!

And the anchorperson on TV goes...

La de da de da de -dadedade-da

La de da de da de -dadedade-da

Fourteen cannibal kings

Wondering blithely what the dinner bell will bring

Fifteen celebrity minds

Served on a leafy bed of sixteen military wives

Cheer them on the their rivals

Cause America can, and America can't say no

And America does, if America says it's so

It's so!

---

Falling Down... by Oasis

The summer sun

It blows my mind

It's falling down an all that I've ever known

Time to kiss the world goodbye

Falling down on all that I've ever known

Is all that I've ever known

A dying scream

It makes no sound

Calling out to all that I've ever known

Here I am, lost and found

Calling out to all

We live a dying dream

If you know what I mean

All that I've every known

Its all the I've ever known

Catch the wind that breaks the butterfly

I cried the rain that fills the ocean wide

I tried to talk to God with no avail

Calling my name from out of nowhere

I said "If you won't save me, please don't waste my time"

Catch the wind that breaks the butterfly

I cried the rain that fills the ocean wide

I tried to talk to God to no avail

Calling my name from out of nowhere

I said "If you won't save me, please don't waste my time"

The summer sun

It blows my mind

Its falling down on all that I'd ever known

Time to kiss the world goodbye

Falling down is all that I've every known

----

I expect the Spanish Inquisition!

Bloggers everywhere are talking about John McCain's recent quote regarding a possible meet-up with Spanish Prime Minister Jose Luis Rodriguez Zapatero. 

Its important to discuss.

So, Zapatero is not a Zapatista. But if he was, I still think that McCain should talk to him. Emiliano Zapata, who's name the organization takes, heavily advocated that the people control their own land and resources. People with resources? That is definitely a threat to US interests. I wonder if McCain knew that Spain and Mexico weren't one in the same. That can get pretty confusing. 

And Zapatero's Spain didn't enter into the Iraq war back in 2003 just like a lot of other nations didn't. In fact, the forces were primarily the US and Britain. Austria and Poland were part of the team too. But that leaves another, 190 countries that "aren't friends with us." It would probably be a good idea to speak with all of those presidents and Prime Ministers. Especially since, according to John McCain, "there will be other wars." 

Wait, Zapatero? Do we know who this dude is? He might not be that important. But maybe it would have been better to say "yes" I will talk to him at least to save face and not risk this sort of embarrassment. But then again there is always that risk of him being a terrorist. And we definitely don't want to partake in foolish delusions like negotiating with terrorists. 

But its more likely that Zapatero could have been confused for musician activist Frank Zappa. And since Zappa has been dead for 15 years almost, I can see why he would be hesitant to talk to him. And since Zappa once sang about a guy named Sheik Yerbouti, its obvious McCain had valid fears.

Its good that the Republican Presidential nominee doesn't talk to anarchists, non-coalition countries, potential terrorists and dead musicians. 

Over and Out.

Ramadan Fever

Growing up in a country where my holiday was always a side note, its strange to turn on the TV and see advertisements geared towards me. The ads promote new drinks, snacks, religious books, etc. And then a shopping trip that would be menial and annoying on any other hot, sweaty August afternoon became... so refreshing to experience. The hustle and bustle of getting ready for the holiday season is very exciting for me. 

I've always been an extreme participant in the Christmas season working in retail. I was there Thanksgiving night preparing for the mad sales. I usually didn't get to experience a day off until ten days after Christmas. But this is my first time to be really a part of the holiday season.

For once I don't need to request off to celebrate my holiday. 

The market today was packed. Everyone was stocking up on suhur (before fast meal) items and iftar (after fast meal) treats. After hitting up three spice shops we finally made it through a crowd to buy black pepper. And hailing a taxi was a feat today. Every single one was busy taking somebody who bought something somewhere. Two days ago I bought 3 pairs of shoes and 2 cute tops for very cheap. The before Ramadan Sales here are great. I'm told the Eid sales will be even better. 

But the shoppers here aren't consumerist enough for me. They buy essentials for the holiday season. I'm more interested in the fun things that make it a festive holiday. So I bought string lights and hung them in the living room. My two-year old cousin is estatic. And around the outside of the house I am hanging colorful streamers, from our balcony to the neighbor's. We never got around to these types of decorations in the states. Hanging lights in the off-season is definitely inexcusable and probably a violation of some city ordinance. 

I'm sure that I'm feeling a little nostalgia for the Ramadans of America I am accustomed to. No one has called me yet to say "Did you see the moon?" or "Will you be at the mosque tonight?" or "Will you break your fast here or there?" I haven't had the chance to be super excited internally. I haven't had an opportunity to plan how I will celebrate, fast, repent and purify while outwardly appearing the same to my coworkers and neighbors. 

Instead I'm outlining my spiritual plan for the month. This month will be the first in almost 10 years when I want to finish reading the Quran cover to cover. This year I won't break my fast on the run via a frozen TV dinner at work or a Snickers bar during class. (I will, however, miss the PF Changs and Buca di Bepo deliveries.) This year I want to breath in all there is to breath in around this holiday. Every aspect of being the majority faith is mine now to treasure. Everyone else around me seems to take this for granted because they have always had it.

I have a quarter century worth of lanterns to light, prayers to read, visiting, fasting, cooking, shopping, etc. to catch up on. I am going all out with Ramadan Fever, at least this once. 

Kitty Blog

My precious Nuqta won't eat. She hasn't in a few days. She hasn't eaten well in a few weeks. And today she won't drink water. 

I spent an hour online reading what everyone says about feline anorexia or other eating disorders related to feline illnesses. I'm not completely sure what to do. But I guess she really can't control her life lately, because I am barely in control of my own. I still am not in a place of my own and so Nuqta is always subject to a random kid petting her, which she hates but tolerates. And more terrible (to the cat) than her expanded social network is her choice of cuisine. She is usually so happy with Alley Cat or Friskies. But we don't have the luxury of cheapo catfoods. Instead she only gets tuna or sardines or some other assortment of fresh fish. 

But she doesn't want fresh fish. I can't blame her though I am the big fan of fish who now hates to smell them or eat them. So today I wanted to get a vet to look at her. Maybe she has worms (haven't seen any) or fleas (nope) or something else (please no). But whatever is wrong I want to fix it and I don't want my kitty wasting away. Her chubs have all melted and now you pet a boney spine when you want to cuddle. Yuck. But yeah, the vet no-called. And he's the only one in this town.

So I got a syringe and some gerber baby food and mom gave me advice over the net; and dad helped me squirt it down her throat. So she has 6mg of Gerber in her as of 1:45am and another 3mg of baby vitamin juice. Around 4am we'll try to get another 6mg of Gerber down.

So far so good. I will keep you posted. I'm sure everyone is on the edge of their seat and praying for my kitty to get well soon. Don't send flowers, send dry cat food. ;-)

Frankenstein Ouchie

Not that this merits a blog posting, but I figured I needed to update and say what I am up to. 

I have been swimming several times in the Sea. It seemed for a week I went every day challenging myself to go farther and farther. Sometimes the waves actually kind of suck you in and its scary for a second, but everyone should know I love the water. So, I finally got stung by a jellyfish.

It felt like all of the sudden I was stabbed with a butcher knife through my foot. Then I had to swim against the tide to the shore, which took forever, with this imaginary knife jutting out of the top of my foot. I limped across the hot sand to see what can simply be described as a red puffy line across my foot, maybe 4 inches long or so.

So this new thing on my foot is starting to look like a scar from getting a bunch of stitches, kind of frankenstein-ish. And its all I can think about right now because it itches so much.

Its kind of comedic because there are no jellyfish in the Sea right now supposedly. They all leave this area in late June early July. So I got stung by a lazy jellyfish who somehow didn't move with the migration. 

So the big joke is that the only jellyfish in the Sea came after me. Great.

Nothing to See Here, Move Along

Interesting day. I've of course put together a draft to talk about the protest and getting held by the police and making it out fine. But as of a few minutes ago I was informed I should erase anything and everything having to do with my attempted journalistic piece. The Egyptian National Security contacted my uncle and will be meeting with all of the men of the family here in the home tonight. Pray that nothing of interest happens. 

I'm going to go dye my hair now.

Peace.

Protest Breaks Out

I don't know if should be afraid or not to be a journalist in a country so near to war and so torn by political struggle. But I'm not. I only post this before I go so that everyone knows what I saw in case I'm not back to tell it. I also need to compose myself.

Women dressed in all black and covering their faces so that they can not be recognized took to the street today. It must have been at least 40 of them standing in front of the two semis. We went by slowly in the taxi but the police motioned for us and other cars to keep moving. I'm going back to see what happened.

What I saw were angry women bearing home-made signs and chanting. One sat cross-legged on the ground in front of the truck; and the truck blared its horn in return. She wagged her finger gently to say "no." The barrels that filled the trucks all had "Electrol" written on them. We speculated that it was some sort of petrol or olive oil or other supply in transit to Israel. 

Whatever it was, the locals were angry enough to risk their lives. Although I am genuinely not afraid of local military police, I do know that I am interested enough to risk mine. 

Be back soon.

Teen Shoka (Cactus Fruit)

My uncle has a farm where you can literally get lost. I know this because I got lost yesterday on it. I was in a state of panic because my family has ways of pranking each other. I was pretty sure that they left me behind. It was getting dark and the rows and rows of olive trees looked the same and so I wandered. I also had little hair-like thorns all over my hands and face and somehow on my tongue. I'm the silly bum who thought you could bite them off.

We were so careful when we pulled the thorny fruit off of its large cactus. Poking it with a stick and keeping a distance from the large thorns that protruded from the plants we thought we would have a nice little treat. So much for that idea. Apparently the little teeny tiny thorns aren't really visible to the human eye until they have gotten all over your clothes. 

Growing up in the midwest I definitely got to spend time on some farms and get lost picking apples at Stephenson's Apple Orchard. But this is a first. I actually did the thing you see in cartoons and old westerns. I got beat by a plant. I green thorny cactus plant that was angry I stole its fruit.

My family didn't leave me. They were waiting by the car and laughed hysterically at my painful mistake and the fact that I got lost. I guess it was a funny sight to see. Victoriously I showed off the fruit wrapped in paper. At the moment I was sure I wanted to eat it just to prove that I won. But, I probably won't even look at it again. Now that I have finally gotten all of the thorns out of my fingertips I am a little fearful of getting hurt again.

An apology

After 3 weeks of being too happy with life and busy to publish an update I am moved to blog. I have to first say that there are a million things I have wanted to write about but instead just made rough drafts. Now I really regret not publishing all the happy things that have happened because this blog is a very sad one.
Today I found myself crying again. A few weeks back I cried because I visited the graveyard where most of my family has been burried for generations. I was sad because I felt so distant from my grandfather. I wished that I had been around to absorb his personality and ethics. But the sadness was mixed with so much happiness. I was part of a family of revolutionaries. Each individual had a story of fighting for freedom or against colonization or oppression. Each one was religious and political and was a leader in their own way. I was part of a dynasty perhaps. Death is the only things that really moves me to tears. Today again I think about those who have been lost over the years.
Today I cried because another family friend passed away. I was unhappy with myself for not being there by Sarah's side at the Jinaza (funeral). Hassan was young and did not live up to his dream. I can't blame Allah (God) because ofcourse we all come from him and we all will return to him. Allah has plans that we don't know and so we all must put out trust in him.
But I can blame myself for not being a better friend to Sarah. I wish I could be there for her right now to mourn the loss of her youngest brother. Sometimes people let stupid things get in the way of the big picture. I always thought I looked at the big picture, that I wanted to be a leader and to leave a positive impact in this world. Right now I don't feel as though I have lived up to my expectations.
I am on the other side of the world right now. But I hope all my friends can forgive me if I ever wronged them. I know its a sad way to look at things... but at this point two people have died while I was travelling. So if I didn't say goodbye to you, if I ever offended you or if maybe I owe you 5 dollars, please forgive me. A lot of the time we take eachother for granted and expect things to be the same next time we meet.
I am not planning on going anywhere if you need me. So please don't go anywhere. And please take care of yourselves and eachother.

Egypt Smoothie

Imagine for just one moment that you have an extremely large blender. If you were to put the traffic, smog, old buildings, history and pride of Cairo into a blender you would create something tinted gray. I think the nutrional value may be high but the taste bitter and so uninviting to someone who hasn't experienced it before. Making the same cocktail of Leawood, Overland Park and the greater Kansas City area would provide a greener, fruitier taste. The manicured lawns and well-paved streets would perhaps make this drink more thirst-quenching. But the best smoothie of all would have to come from Al Arish. The old city, the salty Sea, the simple life of fishing or farming would make the most colorful, tasteful and coveted drink of all.

I haven't invented the super-sized blender yet. Instead I take in each part of the experience separately and allow them to mix in my head. I grew up on the Leawood/OP/KC cocktail and never felt thirsty because I had what I needed. Going to Cairo gave me too much big city in one sip.

I think I always longed for the simpler life. I can go almost anywhere and close my eyes and hear the waves hitting the coast. A 5 minute jaunt can take me to Reesa beach or an outdoor cinema or to the shopping district. And 5 minutes later I can be back in my grandmother's living room listening to her sing or pray.

I guess the point of this posting was that I was sorry for not posting more frequently because I don't want any one memory to fade. I just wish everyone I knew could have a chance to live in Al Arish, for one week even. Changing your surroundings really is the karmic gatorade you need to jump start your life.

Every suburban kid needs to take a breather in a small city so that they can really appreciate the things they take for granted. I am beginning to see what life is really all about.

The woman in Al-Hussein

I'm not sure how to begin this entry but her face keeps coming into view. She was an old woman in the mosque of Hussein in the old city of Cairo, Egypt. A large gray headscarf covered her frail little body. She instructed people where to stand and indicated to me that my scarf was not covering my head completely. I made the necessary adjustments. Her life it seemed revolved completely around this landmark. I imagined that she had spent everyday here standing by the door and helping the tourists and locals to pray in an overpacked hall. It felt so simple and so beautiful. Having a life completely dedicated to God.


When I finished the evening prayers she turned around to me and again gave specific instructions. "Go say salaam to him," she said. She motioned towards the ornate doorway that opened into the gallery where Imam Hussein's body is entombed in iron and gold. Imam Hussein, Grandson to the prophet Mohammed (s), son of Fatimeh Al-Zahra (a) and a distant grandfather to myself, died defending Islam and his family against tyranny. The room was vaste and all around me I could hear whispered prayers. I saw Americans there and others praying too. I asked that I be united with those that have left this world but spent their living life serving God. I asked that my life and deeds and God's mercy would put me in his shade beside the great leaders of the past.

Imam Hussein was murdered because he would not pledge allegience to Yazid. He gave his life, literally, to defend his people. His life and death directly impact the way we live today.

I know that I don't need to have a life that consists entirely of sitting in a mosque and helping others to pray, or a life of war and struggle ending in martyrdom. But I do know that my life must have the same purpose and dedication.

Visiting the old Hussein mosque reminds me of this. Everything in life should remind me.

Its all just sand

I am in Al Arish now; which was once a beduin camp that grew into a common tourist destination. How funny that the wandering Fatimeh is now living on the grounds of a beduin camp. Al Arish is also a small coaster city located 25 miles to the East of the Palestine border. As far as finding a calling, this is closer to being in a hotspot than ever. When Palestinians broke the borders this was the city they came to in need of medicine and supplies. This is the city that was sold out of many things for months to come because the Palestinians were unable to buy it in their own county... their own strip of land. Many young Araishees sport the Palestinian Kafeya.  The symbol of pain and ongoing relentless struggle.

Those who know me may hear me speak my mind freely. This is actually a common trait of Egyptians and usually leads to a negative result. Egyptians have opinions. But in the subject of Palestine, many stay silent. Al Arish itself was under Israeli military occupation from 1967 to 1979. Since 1979 Israel and Egypt have abided by a peace treaty. However, I think being over 4 hours away from Cairo makes the residents of Al Arish more Palestinian than they are Egyptian.

Al Arish is full of other little discoveries. Electricity usually works seamlessly, but not always.

And there is not one wireless connection in this city so far.

And running in the morning on the coastline of the Mediterranean Sea is an amazing experience.

And I think no one wakes up at all before noon in this city except me. I'm told that I'm crazy to be awake so early... there is a first time for everything.

And now its time for breakfast.

Over and Out.

The Fiat and Fatimeh of Arabia

On Thursday my cousins that I am staying with in Cairo, Egypt took their TOEFL exam and then were free in the afternoon. While they were gone we went out with another cousin to visit two aunts whom we have not had the opportunity to visit so far this week. I must say this has been my favorite day so  far, that must be why I blogged it. Unlike my usual sleep schedule in Kansas City, I am the first awake every day around 8 or 9 am. Generally my cousins leave for work at about this time. The rest of the house sleeps until the Adhan of Dhuhr (the call to noon prayer). 

Many who travel the world boast of a host's hospitality and generosity. My trip has exceeded expectations. Everyone is so generous with their time and efforts here. Every home that we have visited has offered for us to stay for a night or two. Everyone begs that we take our lunch with them, or dinner. Every aunt has presented to us the candy stash from the freezer and plethora of fruit on a platter. My brothers are extremely sick of Pepsi and Coke because everyone offers it and of course they drink it. I make excuses and drink water.

The point of this posting isn't necessarily the unending hospitality from our family and this host country. Rather I noticed something very interesting about these generous people yesterday when I was cruising Cairo with my cousin Leena. More than half of the cars I saw on the street were Fiats, like hers. And of those we guessed that almost all of them were built in the 1970s. The car I was crammed into, with two brothers, an aunt, Soha and Leena sported shag carpeting on the dash and a super keen aftermarket Sony stereo cassette player.

I spent the day thinking about how Egyptians were so generous. The Fiats were always jammed in traffic and crammed with people beyond their threshold. In Kansas City the average person seemed to drive a Chevy Yukon or Ford Explorer that would seat 10 Egyptians comfortably but usually only took one person to and from work.

Was it generosity to seat more people in a car that you barely keep running as it is? Somehow I went back and forth on this. At moments I felt so selfish.  Leena shouldn't have to make this car treck 6 people across the city in stop and go traffic. We could have easily hailed a taxi with more room. I pondered, everyone here seems to have a Fiat or similar and I can't imagine that they are all mechanics. So I concluded that it was perhaps the selfessness of  Leena and others that kept the old Fiats running. I'm sure there are more logical explanations, but I really like this one.

In the evening I took an hour and a half drive smashed in VW Beetle with 6 other family members to get to the pyramids. Poor planning made it impossible to go inside like we had on previous visits. However, this trip had to be the best as I didn't do something so touristy and investigate the graves of people long since deceased and removed. 

Instead we road Arabian horses in the old city and in the sand dunes that surround the pyramids. Aside from the random 4-wheeler who's headlights rudely broke our darkness, we road like explorers. I was Fatimeh of Arabia, with soar butt, back and hands I felt proud. Not only had I not forgotten how to ride a horse, I mastered my horse. I road fast into the darkness disturbing the sand. I had  illuminated pyramids at one side and sand as far as I could see at the other.

Perhaps other tourists have ridden the horses around the pyramids.  I saw locals riding near us and so it seemed as though I may have belonged. Then I had the epiphany of the day.

If I was in the right place at the right time and atop an Arabian stallion, I would discover something great.

Reporting live from Cairo, Egypt

CAIRO, Egypt: My journies have begun. For some reason borrowing my cousin's laptop to type my blog makes it seem impersonal. Like I'm out of place. As if being in a foreign country doesn't do that enough.
Well here goes on the travelling recap. I was set to leave Thursday from Kansas City to Minnessota to Amsterdam to Cairo. The plan was to spend a day in Amsterdam to do the Netherlandanese thing. I was supposed to be in Cairo Friday night / Saturday morning (2am)... instead I wasn't here till Tuesday night. Minnessotta had rain and apparantly planes can't go through rain like cars do. So we missed the flight to Amsterdam and slept on the floor in Minnessota. And got rerouted to Paris. And, well, it stunk. Literally.
But for real. I am not disheartened. I am so happy I got here in one piece, and when they lost my luggage they found it the next day. And my cat successfully made the 3-day treck here and will stay with me forever so long as I can find a grocery store that has cat food and she will figure out that Egyptian sand is just as good as the store-bought kitty litter.
I intend to keep this as a way to share some short stories and keep you updated on my quest to do whatever it is I am doing. I won't be twittering as often as planned because apparantly you can't e-mail from phones here. As soon as I figure out a fix, you will know.
Oh and in other news, Cairo won today. One step closer to the World Cup.
Over and Out.
Fah