Pizza or Potatoes?

I had Thursday off, i.e. I had a three-day weekend. It was decided on Wednesday that my family and I would accept my cousin's invitation to spend a couple of days at her summer house, chalet as we call it, on the North Coast of Egypt.

We left Cairo at 1.00 a.m. and arrived 4.00 a.m. Everyone there was still awake. By 'everyone' I mean the following ten people:
my cousin (hostess) + son and daughter,
another cousin, hostess' sister (+ husband and daughter),
another cousin (+ daughter),
and my two uncles (one needy and one likes to joke 'roughly', i.e. using his hands).
Add me, my mom, dad and brother and you've got fourteen people in a three bedroom house.
The more, the merrier? Well, I have to slightly agree. It was a lot of fun. And slightly disagree for some reasons you must have already guessed.
Day one:
1.00 pm. Ten people at the table having breakfast. Yes, you heard it right. Breakfast.
'So, are we having pizza or potatoes for lunch?'
'Pizza'
'No, potatoes'
'No, pizza. You promised yesterday.'
My mom intervened now because she knew that her favorite brother wanted potatoes.
‘Ok, we'll have to design elections and take votes. A man’s vote is worth two of a woman’s or a girl’s.’
Yes, you’ve guessed right. Everyone laughed, including myself. And you’ve also guessed right, my feminist side was itching but I had to just join in the joke.
‘Listen, mama. Everyone will write what they feel like having for lunch and we draw and count. Khalas, it’s that simple.’

1.15 pm
Men are back to the front porch and women are either clearing the table, washing the dishes, or cleaning the kitchen. Me? I was doing the dishes.

1.20 pm
Tea, cake and dessert are served? = more cups and plates for me to wash. I don’t mind, though, as long as I’m doing them while my talkative cousin is eating my ear off with girly chat.

1.40 pm
Finally. I’m sitting down with everyone and having my tea.
‘I want some water to take my pills, baby.’
‘Ok, mom.’ Tea down. Go to the kitchen and bring water. Go back and sit down. Sip tea.

1.42 pm
‘Is there any more of this cake?’
‘Yes, uncle, just a minute. Don’t drink your tea yet.’ Tea down. Go to the kitchen and bring a slice of cake. Sip tea and try to sit down …
1.45 pm
‘Oh, gosh. I forgot to pray the noon prayer. How come no one reminded me? Could you bring me …’
‘… theeeee prayer mat. Sure, …’ Tea down. Go back in, look in every room for the mat.
‘Here, you go uncle.’

1.50 pm
‘Hey, girl, come and sit next to your uncle. I haven’t seen you for ages.’
‘No, no, leave her,’ my mom said. ‘Come and tell Aunt Noura what happened the other day in the kitchen.’
Tea down, sit with the women, tell them what my mom said and did the other day in the kitchen. Everyone cracks up.

1.55 pm
Tea is cold.

2.30 pm
Cleaning the chalet, i.e. women are cleaning the chalet for the afternoon. I won’t get into details but I have to tell you that there were six men around and three messy women.

3.00 pm
Two women are in the kitchen. Preparing lunch??? Whaaat?
‘Mom, I’m not even stepping into the kitchen, what are you doing here now?’ I told my mom under my breath.
‘I’m getting everything ready so that I enjoy the afternoon without worrying about it.’

I took two of the three young females in the house. One glance at them and they understood. We sneaked out with our books and i-Pods to the beach.

‘Do you think it’s OK if I lie down on my back?’ one of them asked me.
‘Of course you can, honey,’ I replied. ‘Go ahead girl, I’ll watch out for you in case a guy comes and checks your bum out.’
She laughs and rests her back on the sand. ‘Oh, that feels good.’

7.15 pm
‘Luuunch is reaaadddyyy eeevvveerrryyyyooooone,’ my cousin shouts around the house.
Where’s Ahmed? Where’s Dina? Where’s …. They keep where’s-ing until everyone was there.

8.00 pm
Men are back to the front porch and women are either clearing the table, washing the dishes, or cleaning the kitchen. Me? I was doing the dishes.

Yes, I did copy and paste from above.

‘I changed my mind, Sara, why don’t you do the dishes and I make tea and get them dessert?’
‘Cool, go ahead.’
8.20 pm
Earphones, running shoes on, back door opened, and I sneaked out. In a house full of fourteen people, you wouldn’t notice the absence of one for half and hour.

Walk, and walk and listen to music and sing. Jog for two songs, no, let them be one. Oh, gosh, first personal goal for September, exercise regularly. You’re thirty now for god’s sake. But you could still talk while jogging, it means you’re not out of breath, you see? Liar, you know you’re not as fit as you could be.

9.15 pm
Hair wet from the shower, towel on my back and tube of foot cream in hand.
‘You know, Oz Oz, I know a great hair cream that you can use to get your hair permed,’ my cousin, auntie Noura, said.
Yes, Oz Oz is the nickname this side of the family decided to give me twenty years ago. Mind you, my actual name has no “O” or “Z” but rather “N” and “R”.
‘Interesting. I’m not thinking about straightening my hair, though.’
‘It’s LE 1,500. Do you know Dalia, Shadia’s daughter, she’s got a much coarser, more difficult hair, and this cream worked well for her.’
‘Really, that’s great, but I don’t like to mess with my hair a lot.’
Ok, so now we’re over the oh-my-god-she’s-taken-the-veil-off phase into how-are-we-gonna-fix-her-curly-hair one. Take it easy! Just smile, they’ll be thinking about pizza and potatoes in a minute.
‘You know what you could also do?’ my other cousin says enthusiastically. ‘There are new creatine products. Have you heard of them?’
‘Yes, auntie, but I just think God chose for me the hair that goes well with my complexion and character,’ I replied.
‘Wise girl,’ she smiles. ‘So, what are we having tomorrow for lunch? Pizza or Potatoes?’

Canataloupe after midnight

Took a shower, put oil replacement in hope that my hair would look the way I want it when dry. We'll see tomorrow.
Having some quiet after a long day. A/C on in my room. We have one in the house. My mom, asthmatic, didn't want one in her room because 'My chest is sensitive and I'll get sick if there's A/C in my room.' She just didn't want me to pay to get a second one installed. But where is she now?! She's sitting opposite me on my brother's bed escaping the heat and humidity in her bedroom.
She brought her pillows, water bottle, and medicine along. Translation: she's sleeping next to me tonight when my brother gets home and kicks her off his bed. My dad is lying on his back on the floor. Give him the most comfortable mattress in the world, this will always be his favorite way to rest.

Eating cantaloupe.
- 'Eh da? Where is the other slice?' mom is asking me. I know where this is going!!
+ 'No, mama. I found one slice in the fridge, and I can't have more,' I say.
- 'Have you eaten the other one?' mom asks dad.
* 'Yes, I did,' dad replies.
- 'Why did you eat it? I wanted your daughter to have it cold.'
* 'I didn't know it was for her'
+ 'Mom, please. It didn't have my name carved in it. Even if it did.. so what!'
- 'You always do this,' mom says giving dad her blaming look.
+ 'Mooom, it's nothing,' me giving her my blaming look.

This morning, I left for work around noon. It was boiling hot and humid. I went down stairs praying the car won't be boiling. Put my sunglasses on before leaving the building. Oh, my. Car shade is up behind the windshield and a small towel is covering the side window to further block the sun. I smile from ear to ear and look up to the balcony to see dad smiling back and waving goodbye. It was him as usual. He did all this in the morning.

It's been half an hour now and my dad has been telling me the same old stories over and over again. He's telling me how he and our neighbor fixed a water pipe this morning and how there was a valve missing and it turned out it had fallen in the other T-shaped pipe. What? No idea what he's talking about.
+ 'Really, dad? Interesting! How did you finally manage to get it out?'
* 'We ... bla bla bla. What are you listening to?'
+ 'Radio. Monte Carlo.'
* 'Wow, the world is a global village now. I remember when I was in the army during the 73 war, I used to spend hours trying to locate a radio wave in the desert and now you're cross-legged on your bed listening to radio online'
That's how my dad always finds a way to digress from talking about valves to war to globalization to carbohydrates to classical music in less than fifteen minutes.

Yes, mom cuts up fruit for me because she wants me to 'have it cold' and my dad shades my car for me and goes out on the balcony to see my reaction and smile in the morning.

They are both asleep now. They are both one reason I survived at some point in my life when everything felt meaningless. They never felt meaningless. Not for a second.

02.07=30 :)

What a beautiful early hour.

02.07+156+157+158+2019+5x5 (still) = 30.

It's past midnight and it's my BIRTHDAY :D Yohoooooo. No, I'm not out celebrating, not making a cake, not treating myself to anything, yet. Instead, I'm completing Form 157 and Form 158 because I have a visa appointment at 1.00 pm in heat of 38 degrees ON my birthday and then I'm working till 9.45 pm. Life is unfair sometimes.

Photo requirements : 5x5, white background, face front, show ears, don't smile. No, they didn't say don't smile, but I decided not to just in case. Product is a 5x5 photo of me literally looking like a silent Bulldog, squint as someone once told me. I was going to be kind and say I looked like ancient Egyptian still statues, but I couldn't help picturing the squint bulldog thing.
I'm going to go out with my brother after work. I'll treat myself to a huuuge caramel cinnamon roll.

Form 156: Have you ever had any training on explosives? Check the box: [No]

On Friday, I'm going to a ladies only resort. Solaris. Sounds nice. I've never been there and have tried to contact them but no answer for some reason. But anyway, two friends and I are ging to turn up and sunbaaaathe and have lunch. I know they'll gosspic a lot, but let's ignore this part. If I decide to hang out with women who don't gossip I'll end up with male friends only.

Form 156: Are you planning to engage in any terrorist activities in the US? Check the box: [No]

Or shall I actually just go for lunch somewhere nice, go to the movies? No, Solaris would be better. Plus I smell a good blog entry coming up Friday night.

Form 2019: Two-Year-Home-Residency. Student exchange program stipulates that you spend two years of physical stay in your country upon completion of your study in the US. (NB: Getting married to an American or giving birth there does not cancel this term) Damn, that was exactly the plan. Pffff.

'I have read and understood bla bla bla.' Sign. But I can go on into a PhD program. Or rather, find a job somewhere else, save money to travel or open the bookstore I'd love to have.

I will not wait till 9.45 pm. I'll have the caramel cinnamon roll on the way to the interview after I have printed out the forms and stapled them top left, as required!!

Oh, I forgot to tell you. I just turned 30.

Outbox: June 29th

I sense from your e-mail that you are 'worried' about me. I am not worried ... I'm freaking out. I am not saying I don't believe in Heaven and Hell. I have no doubt in God's ability to create them just as He created you and me. You're saying "Just remember the life of this world is a prison for the believer and a paradise for the disbeliever because WE Muslims seek a better life in the hereafter..." Fine.. so I, without choosing to, was brought here to stay in prison and seek an afterlife. So why not be sent to the afterlife straight away?

I am not a disbeliever. I want to believe using both my heart and mind. My heart tells me that religion is true and it's me who probably doesn't know how to approach it. I am also not one of the scientific minds who wants everything to be experimentally proven. I believe in God although I don't see Him, so I believe in all his powers. It's the questions about why we are here, the choice to be here, the idea of us being here to be tested, etc that tire me. And I can't go back to how I used to be, I'd be fooling myself and going back to taking religion for granted.

I wish I could take your advice and "Just leave it to Allah and practice my DEEN" You have no idea how much I'd love to be able to do that. you have no idea how envious I am of those who have comfort in religion. You have no idea how scared I am of dying before reconciling with myself and religion. Having said all that, again, I don't know where to start or what to do. And again it's not my fault that I started asking and haven't find answers. It's no one's fault actually.

I'd love to hear any advice other than "take it as it is" because I just can't. I also can't take the other advice of "forget about religions and be a good person" because I just can't.
It seems it's either one of these two ways.

Inbox: June 29th

Well let me say this - You are kind of close to say that you do not believe in heaven or hell and I do not want you to do that!!! Please don't - ReallyIn the past I would argue with Atheist in America that did not believe in GOD - Heaven or Hell and they basically say that Satan is a good guy... They are members of the Church Of Satan....In Islam to deny Heaven or Hell is Kufer (disbelief)...The main reason why I became Muslim is that it confirmed things I believed before like heaven, hell, good VS evil etc. and it disagreed things like Shirk and creating things from your own mind etc.You can be happy here with believing in heaven and hell and stayings away from sins to the best of your ability....Just remember the life of this world is a prison for the believer and a paradise for the disbeliever because WE Muslims seek a better life in the hereafter...this is nothing that you have not heard before and of course we have freedom to choose which path to take in this life....you said "But I find the path painful. It's not easy or fun, it's worrying and draining."Just leave it to Allah and practice your DEEN....

Freedom

A week ago, I met a new friend or rather ran into it. Yes, it's an 'it'.

I was browsing through Arabic radio stations online and found Monte Carlo Radio, which I had already been introduced to through my father. He used to play it in the kitchen and listen to the news while having breakfast. I was six or seven then. It has changed a lot, ... so have I. But it's kept its Shami/Lebanese accent which I love.

It makes a wonderful world come to me in a fraction of a second away. I loved listening to an interview with Buena Vista Social Club and hear some of their songs live for the first time, hearing my favorite MJ songs in a program about his recent death, getting introduced to Crystle Warren's voice, hearing controversial issues spoken about in Arabic for the first time, breaking the ice with French (for the millionth time) and learning 'quel ca appelle' for 'what's it called' but not knowing how to spell it ... yet.

Have you ever listened to a program and wished you were able to phone in and say something? That's how I felt the other day when listening to a program about a possible future French law banning Muslim women from wearing 'niqaab' or face cover. The radio hostess was so good and managed the conversation so well. The guest, who was a high official in the Paris, sounded like someone who has been trained to state out beliefs even if she was not really convinced by them.

She offered the same logic I've heard before: you have to abide by the law of the country you're traveling to because you choose to be there, which makes perfect sense to me. Those who are thinking about moving to France should understand that it's a secular country and they shouldn't complain once they get there, they can't ask for Islamic law or Christian law to be followed, etc. What doesn't really make sense is how this could be true for someone who was born and raised in France, loves the country, and now feels they have to choose between their religious beliefs and the country they love.

I don't understand how this new law waiting to be passed, is aimed at, as stated by the show guest, protecting those women's freedom and allowing them to have a normal social life. She wondered how they would eat or go out to restaurants with their face covered! And how does a thick-moustached man eat or drink? People manage as long as they are happy. I'd protect them by providing a hot-line which they can phone 24/7 and scream "Plz help, my father is forcing me to cover my face."

Who defines freedom? Is it the freedom of the country to make people do what it wants or the freedom of the people to do what they want?

Don't assume that those women need protection or liberation. They feel the most liberated behind their scarf. They feel liberated just as a woman sunbathing in bikinis does. Ask them!!

I've never been to France and would love to one day. But I know if you ask 'France', she would say that wants those women just to be happy. It's the people who are too scared.

Just let those women be!!

Outbox: June 28th

12:30 pm

Thanks for your support and patience.

I understand what you're talking about. But I find the path painful. It's not easy or fun, it's worrying and draining.

I don't want to have to compare the religions to know that Islam makes more sense. But I also don't believe that the way to prove Islam is right should be by comparing it to beliefs one considers wrong. It should be right on its own and not because it makes the most sense.

I would go on and on this way. To keep it short: I find it hard to believe we're here to be tested and stay away from sins and then be rewarded in the afterlife.

I want to be happy here, I don't want heaven or hell.