news

My mom heard the news and sent my dad to tell me.

You never know how they feel until you lose one the way they did.

I see her smiling at everyone. I see her delicate body dancing at a wedding. I see her talking to me when I ran into her on the subway. I see her twenty happy years gleamining in her eyes. I see myself in her place.

And now she is gone. One cousin instead of the other would have been lost. That simple.

Oh God, I am not ready to meet You. I am just not. Please do not take me unless You are happy with me. Do not take me unless my heart is as pure as snow. Do not take me now. I need your guidance and do not know where to look for it. I am tired and have never ever been that tired before. I really cannot take it any more. I feel the whole world on my shoulders. I lost my smile, the taste of everything, and do not want to lose myself.

You know me better than I know myself. You know how fragile I have become and how weary and confused I have been. I never doubted Your presence and never will. I feel it in every breath I take. If all that is happening to me now is because of something I did, please forgive it and make me forget it. If this is all a test, I am unable to bear it. I do not want to hear them talk about You. I do not trust anyone anymore. They all claim to know the path to You and I just dislike their voices. I need You to help me find You and know that I will never have peace again unless You give me guidance. Only You and no one else.

Only you can rest her soul.

By Sunset

- Ok, then. Why is pork prohibited? And please don’t give me the ‘it transmits diseases thing’ because this could also be caused by beef.

All these kinds of questions have been dealt with for years. I’m not going to try to answer them for you because I don’t think this is your problem. You need to find answers.

- I've tried and no one has been able to provide plausible answers. Plus, if there were such answers, why are these questions still being asked?

You know what? I think you're dealing with the whole thing in the wrong way. You need to start with open heart and mind and then seek guidance, and not by taking two issues, pork and alcohol, and rotating around them.

- I still think if these are simple questions on my mind, there should be equally simple answers.

Listen, some people go into religion and try to find answers that help them do what they want and justify what they do. Others truly want to find answers and they don’t merely aim at proving they are right. They are after the truth. If you are of the first type, I'm telling you, you will keep digging for answers that appeal to your desires and end up going round and round in a vicious circle because you will not want accept an answer that doesn’t match what you want. There are answers for everything if you have an open heart. And this is where you should start.

- And how do I find those true answers?

Ask trustworthy people.

- Oh, really? And where are they? And who do you trust? And who qualifies as a trustworthy source? They all follow someone before them - there is nothing new. Plus, there is usually more than one answer to almost every single question and some questions just exist without answers.

Listen, I really am telling you. I myself once doubted the presence of God and now I am at peace with everything because I did want to find true answers and worked hard. It was not an easy stage at all, but here we are. I’m not saying it’s over for me, I’m always reading and trying to educate myself, but my faith is unshakable now.

- And how did you reach that?

Seeing millions of people around me believing in this book - I don’t think it's nonsense. I don’t think that your heart beats because it beats. He is making it beat this way for you.

I was sitting at the head of the table. She was sitting to my left. He to my right. I kept moving my eyes between them wishing this conversation never ended or that it never started.

I do not know if sitting between them was by any chance symbolic.

The heated conversation ended after sunset. I have listened to this same discussion before. But it is usually louder and much more heated. It is always between another two: my mind and my heart.

And I have always wished a sunset could end it.

Surreeeeeender II

I will not be ablet to go to this weekend's session but at least I can share with you the announcement.

Study Circle This Week: Polygamy;)

Hello everyone,

Here is your chance to learn how to share your husband with other wives:)))))) Just kidding. But I bet you will be interested to know how some women were more than happy to do this and in fact found their husbands other wives. Well, you will get to meet some, at least ONE.

We will cover the historical background on this subject and its relevance to other Abrahamic religions, Judaism and Christianity and how polygammy has been practiced for centuries. We will take a close look at Islamic stance on this subject and will examine the positive and negative aspect of this controversial topic.

Please bring with you all your questions and a dish to share with others. The time is from 5-9 pm at my home in (..........) Address is attached for anyone new.

Please RSVP as soon as possible as I may have to turn down some late responders if we have more than we can fit in the house.

Looking forward to see your shinning faces:)

Peace,

(..............)

The Power of Et-tallaaga

I have always been somewhat observant of other people’s personal habits. Some of them are disgusting, funny, unbearable, boring, hilarious … etc. My dad, for example, if he wakes up in the middle of the night, the first thing he does is to go to the kitchen, eat something sweet, and go back to bed. My mom makes herself a big cup of tea in the morning and rarely finishes it. One of my cousins has the habit of taking a bite of whatever you have in your hand. So if a big group is eating and she has just finished her lunch, she’d still ask everyone to let her taste what they are having. Another cousin is always dead tired after work. She goes home and lies down on the couch in front of TV without even changing clothes, and in the process deprives everyone of the communal space. She falls asleep in less than five minutes. Ask her to go get changed and then sleep and you get the “I am not asleep. I am watching the program”. If you try to convince her, you will be making the gravest mistake ever. You will create the grumpiest person ever for the rest of the day. A young cousin of mine, poor thing, would look at the ceiling whenever she is telling a lie. Her sister, another poor thing, has to start off a lie saying “shoofi, khallini a’oolik” (look, let me tell you). Yes, I do have many cousins.

I do not really know many of my habits, although there are a few I can identify. Like my mom, I rarely finish my cup of tea. Like my dad, if I wake up in the middle of the night, I will grab something from the fridge, usually fruit. Whenever I am in a bad mood a cartoon will fix it if the shower does not. During the days I am studying for a final exam, I have to buy a new pen, with the unconscious hope that it will write the correct answers on its own. I keep my note pad in my purse all the time. It is full of notes I rarely, if ever, look at or consult later. Oh, and I am the deadline girl. Last year, I submitted an application on May 22nd at 4.20 pm and the deadline was May 22nd at 4.30 pm. Another very bad habit of mine is forgetting a lie after telling it. So I would tell you “I went to the cinema on my own” and then talk to another person in your presence saying “Yes, I remember. It was right after we went to the cinema last week.” No stares or winks from that person can help me understand I am being such a clumsy liar and worse than that stupid teenager who always spoils plans.


But really … one of my habits is a funnily and nonsensical one: I open the fridge when I am not hungry or thirsty, stare at things aimlessly, just to THINK something over. Why not open my wardrobe for instance? Why not look outside the window? Why not sit down and write my ideas down? Why not anything other than et-tallaaga? Is it the coolness that comes out or the colorfulness and the smells? No idea!!

I caught myself doing this very thing today. My dad caught me as well. I asked him why he thought I open the fridge to think and he gave a friendly chuckle and said that people sometimes do things for no reason. I actually believe there must be a reason for this. Not that I have some unemployed cells in my brain to use and wonder about this. It was just interesting to realize a habit I have had for so long. I realized it at a time when I was thinking to myself why I was automatically doing the same mistake. Is it simply, like my dad said, that people sometimes do things for no reason?

Surreeeeender

The best place and time to write a blog entry is in bed on a day off. You sleep in, stay in bed for fifteen minutes thinking about a couple of things you have been avoiding, quickly get up before they haunt your day, and have a good breakfast. Your father will be making all sorts of noise in the kitchen and you think you would pay a year of your life and be able to live on your own. Go to your room again, sit in bed with your computer on your lap, turn on the fan, play some music, and definitely use headphone or the same father will come to ask you “Where did you get this Bach concerto from? You know.. the first time I heard it. Your uncle Ahmed and I used to share the same room and he never liked classical music. But your uncle Hussein loved it. I was in high school when my dad insisted I had a violin tutor. You granny did not like it and told him “You’re going to ruin the boy’s future.” Have you heard Paganini’s … …”


Then you start writing. You have a topic on your mind and that is why you decided to write, no? Instead of being to the point, you start off writing an unnecessarily long introduction. You are still thinking about those same topics you thought you could avoid. You decide to go ahead and write.


Stop Bach and play Fayrouz. She is much more peaceful.


Last Friday, June 27th, at 5.30 pm, I was standing in front of her door. This meeting had been arranged two weeks earlier. I had received an e-mail titled ‘Muslim Female Study Circle.’ Having been looking for some place to attend Islamic lessons, I immediately e-mailed back.

Because the …


Oh no please not this song. Skip.


Because the e-mail was in English and sent by a lady studying at the American University, I assumed the meeting would differ in nature from those I dislike. At least people with good education do read a lot and tend to have a slightly more open-minded approach to religions, customs, and traditions.


I was received by the housekeeper. I walked in the living room to see five young ladies in their twenties. I said Salamo Alaykom and my name. They replied to my greeting and none said her name. I sat at the nearest chair although I wanted to sit on the floor.


It seemed it was one of my most silent days. I sat there saying nothing for almost thirty minutes not even engaging in their chat with eye contact. An hour later the hostess came in and I stood up to greet her and thank her for having me in her house.


She was a smiley lady in her mid fifties. If I was not told earlier she was Iranian, she would have undoubtedly passed for an Egyptian. She spoke very good English as she had lived in the States for over fifteen years. She was wearing a green embroidered dress and an olive green heard scarf. It took me a while to realize that she must have kept her head covered because there were a couple non-Muslim girls around.


By the time she started the lecture, we had become ten: two Americans, two German, five Egyptians, and one I did not know where she was from. She kept her eyes fixed to her feet and never uttered a word.


Oh, I love this song.


I decided to sit on the cushions scattered on the floor. I was now sitting on the side of the room that had the foreigners. It seemed that sitting there and having my hair styled into a funny way I was why I got asked if I were Egyptian!


The lecture was supposed to be on the ‘purification of the soul’. Half of it, though, was spent on how our hostess got married the first time and another time to a Sheikh who was already married to two other women and had nothing to offer. And how she accepted him because she wanted to learn about religion from him.


I had been warned by a couple of friends that this lady was so strict and judgmental. And before I came I decided not to throw in any of my ‘questions’ so that I do not generate digressions and confuse others. Besides, I was there to see if she was the kind of scholar I have been looking for.


“The happiest life you can ever have as a woman is one that is lead in accordance with what Allah has ordained for you. As Muslim women, surreeeeeender to God and do whatever He asks us to.” she said moving her arms in a gesture similar to that made by a boxing referee upon counting ten.


"So if Allah asks you to cover your head, you just do it because He knows what’s best for you. Allah says in His book …” and she recited a controversial verse from Quran.


I was about to jump in but the youngest among us was too fast. “But this verse was revealed only for the wives of Mohammed because Allah wanted them to be distinguished from other women,” she said. Her mom gave her that gaze apparently for daring to say something contrary to the hostess she had been videotaping.


“Yes, I know this incident and we will dedicate a whole lecture to Hijab later insha’allah” was the only reply.


“Your well being is like a triangle: physical well being, spiritual balance, and your mental peace. They are three tubes connected to each other. If there is a clog somewhere, you feel imbalanced.”


‘I like this tube idea. But what if some of your spiritual ideas cannot pass through the mental tube?’ I did not ask.


“If you were married and you spent six hours cooking a meal for your husband. When he comes home he says I do not like all this food. I would rather have a cheese sandwich. What do you do? You smile warmly, go the kitchen, and make him a sandwich. What if he looks at this wall and says that this tree in the painting depresses him? I would immediately walk to the painting even if I liked it and take it down.”


At this point, I and the three foreigners sitting around me had been nervously shaking our feet for too long. I felt the ‘feminist vein’, that someone once told me I had, starting to pulse harder. Again I was too slow. The lovely Italian next to me started talking nervously.


“But iif my moother or my faather diid not like anysing in zee house, any of zem will change it. Zey boos respect each oozer and listen to each oozer. It iiz not always my maama. Zey may joke aboutiit but she does not have to change the decoration only because she iiz zee wooman,” she said.


One of the Egyptians replied that the woman would do it out of love and in order to please her Lord.


The American by my side whose face had already turned tomato red said “But why doesn’t he do the same and respect her choice and also attempt to please HIS Lord?”


“I guess it goes both ways. But woman tend to compromise more in general. We have an Egyptian proverb that says ‘A ship with two captains will sink’. So if the woman always wants to be equal to a man in a relationship, things will never work. There are major decisions in life and those need a man to make them,” the Egyptian mom replied.


At this point I knew how the rest of the conversation will go. I walked over the hostess to thank her and kiss her goodbye.


“Thank you so much for having me over. I will try to be here next time insha’allah. I just wanted to tell you that you made a grammar mistake while reciting one of the verses in Quran and you know this is not really accepted at all. You either know the verse well or you say the meaning. And the Prophetic tradition you mentioned is weak one actually. You also gave a bad example to everyone here calling your first husband and the father of your children an ‘idiot’ three times. This is in no Islamic. And actually I think your lectures will do harm to those young Egyptians. You’re consolidating what their moms have been teaching them: be submissive to your man so that Allah is pleased with you. At the same time, you are confirming what those foreigners think of Arab and Muslim women.”


I only said the first two sentence and left in disappointment and frustration.

No, I am not. I am still alive.

"I hope this message brings you comfort and not grief. I just felt I wanted to talk to you.

To my family: You were my life. I always kept you in my soul, my eyes, and my heart. I tried hard to make you proud of me and hope I could do that somehow. I know I made you worried sometimes and I am sorry I did. Yet, I want you to know that I was always strong and managed to find away to hang in there. If I was to choose my family, I would have never chosen any other family. You always supported me, cared for me, and loved me. Nothing was warmer than going back to you on every hard days of my life. Nothing was better than your hug, dad, your prayers, mom, and your pure heart, brother. I wish I tried harder to make you happy. I still love you more than anything in the world.

To my cousins: I loved you and cared for you more than you thought I did. I forgive those of you who were hard on me sometimes and I hope you do the same.

To Marwa: You were the sister I always wanted for myself. Please be strong and do not get married to the first loser that comes your way. You deserve a real man. Please take anything you want from my stuff and give the rest to charity. If you still have the Euros I kept with you, give them all out to charity as well. I love you more than you know.

To Rania: I love you and do not remember anything except our happy days and our all night long chats.

To my Turkish friend and two American friends: I totally believe God sent you my way because He knew how much I needed you then. You are nothing but special and I know you will have nothing but the wonderful life that you deserve. I always found refuge in you and comfort in your words. Your pride in me was at times one of the very few good things about my life. I love you.

To those I once upset… Please forgive me for God only knows I never meant to. Anything I did or said was wither sincerely meant for your good or unmeant to hurt you.

To those who made me dearly cry: I did not forgive you at the time I wrote this because I knew there was not reason for you to make me sad and yet you never said sorry. I knew I was special but you did not. But I know I now forgive you. I just hope you do not make more people cry.

To President Mubarak, I do not forgive you for all what you did to me and my loved ones; Egyptian people.

To Egypt: I never hated you. I got angry with you sometimes, but was always happy to walk around you and talk to you.

To everyone else I know: I am grateful to have known you. You made me smile, think, wonder, learn, work, laugh, believe, give, love, and be strong.

I loved my life and always felt lucky and privileged. I did not hate anyone.

I am sorry if this message is sad. I think it would have been so even if it were all jokes.

I still have my smile."

Molokheya with whatever

If you would like to learn how to make one delicious Egyptian dish, you can google 'molokheyya' and find the whole history of the dish as well as a list of recipes. If you want to try it, print a recipe out, buy a frozen pack of molokheya at a supermarket, and give it a try.

But if you would like to make REAL molokheya, listen to no one but me.

To serve four hungry people, you will need half a kilogram of molokheya leaves, a crushed half head of garlic, a lot of patience, stock of a happy chicken, ground coriander, things to think about for half an hour, strong lungs, three spoonfuls of margarine or butter, and some excitement.

OK, first wash the molokheya leaves well and spread them on newspaper sheets. Choose the pages carefully because they do affect the taste. You can also leave it to dry on a big towel. Tasteless, though, if not the towel of someone you love. Keep flipping the leaves over until they are dry. Everything else should be ready to start the fun part.

Use your kitchen counter top. Oh, I forgot to tell you, you need a special knife called 'makhrata'. Using the makhrata is a skill that you will be surprised by how fast you have developed. Take the leaves a handful at a time. Think of the things you would like to do in your life. Get them step by step. You cannot go fast now. Once the big molokheyya leaves have become medium sized ones, you may now go faster. Remember people you love, tell them things you were never able to say before. Tell them how much you love them and want to be there for them.

Keep moving the knife up and down, from side to side. You will automatically be put on a tedious soothing mode. Surprisingly enough, your hips will start moving with the pace of the knife. Do not stop, just keep working on it until you have managed to think over the problem that is on your mind now.

Molokheya is now less than quarter the size you started with. You will feel happy about the dark green color it has changed into. Boil the stock. Add the molokheyya little by little till it gets into the thickness you want. Too slimy is not good. Keep stirring and smiling. In a sauce pan, put butter, ground coriander, your sorrows, and crushed garlic. Stir till it all smells real good, and if you have flu, till it is all dark gold.

Ready?! Pour the fried garlic onto the molokheya and give the loudest gasp you can ever make, one that shows how strong your lungs are. Why? So that when your neighbors smell your food, they will get busy thinking what must have happened to cause the gasp rather than give your cooking an evil eye and your molokheya goes bad.

If you do not believe Egyptian women do this while cooking molokheya, you can ask one. Do not forget to ask them why they do not sing in the bathroom.