Packed-up boxes. Stacks of chairs. Eerily silent halls. Doors and walls stripped of their glamour...
Yep. It's official. School is over! (well just a couple more days but they don't really count). And what do you know, I did it! I have managed to successfully complete my first year of teaching. It's been a rocky climb, that's for sure. But I made it to the top. Alhamdulillah!
And the fact that it was my "very first classroom" made it so special. In years to come, I hope to have plenty more classrooms to decorate, lesson plans to design, and students to share all kinds of wonderful memories with, and hopefully manage to inspire a bunch:) My new experiences will be special in their own way. But still, the "very first" anything has a different taste. Not necessarily completely pleasant, but definitely memorable:)
I'll be missing my very first classroom. But I'll also be missing my very first blog. I'll no longer be posting here. So this is officially my "Very Last Post". It also happens to be my 201st post. Gee, to think I babbled on 200 times in the course of an academic year. And to actually have had devoted family members and friends who stuck with me through it all, constantly offering me words of encouragement, and giving me a laugh when I most needed one. Doesn't get any better. My experience this year wouldn't have been the same without you guys:) You rock my world!
Special thanks to my sis, who hands down is the best blog-reader/commenter I could ask for. You might've been continents away, but your hilarious comments made it feel like you were in the next room hollering at me to fetch you the dictionary. You know, the good old days, when I was 7 and shamlessly exploited as your official "fetcher girl":P Good days. I wonder what Human Rights Watch would have to say about it;)
Not to forget my less-obvious but equally devoted readers, mommy, auntie, Nasser, and as of recently; Abood and dad. Can't ask for cooler audience;)
Khokha of course, is also my favorite:) Where are you girl? You're missed. Big time!
Having you all in mind as I wrote, made it a lot more fun:)
Okay enough about the past, let's talk future tense. I'm crazily excited about my new endeavour! Boston here I come insha'Allah! So for the rest of the week, most of my babbling will concern my upcoming travels and brand new life back as a university student:) Sweet.
It is only appropriate then, I figured, to announce the launch of my new blog. It's called "Where Crisp Leaves Fall". Can you tell my heart is skipping at the idea of finally being surrounded with the breathtaking and mesmerising New England foliage? Absolutely magical.....
Guess that's goodbye.
Not so fast! The babbling continues. Just a click away in fact. Go ahead, click. You can't hang around here forever, now can you?
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
An afternoon of music
This is what I've been hearing this afternoon.. over and over. It's the first time I know of Zain Bhikha. His tender voice along with meaningful lyrics make for a very relaxing and joyful musical experience:)
Allah Knows
The Heart Of A Muslim
Allah Knows
The Heart Of A Muslim
Monday, June 11, 2007
Dust Is All Around
I have reached a point where I actually have to grasp my head with both hands and squeeze it tight each time I cough to make it less painful. Who knew you could develop a piercing headache from a cough overdoze? Amazing.
Of course it didn't help that when I looked out of the classroom window today I found the world to be completely white. No not snow silly. Dust. Pale ugly dust. Yeah. That was pretty much the final blow. I was later found choking on a spoonful of dust and mumbling my own version of "Love Is All Around":
I feel it in my windpipe
I feel it in my nose
The dust that's all around me
And so my breath slowly goes
It's written on the wind
It's everywhere I go
So if you really love me
Come on and let it go
How appropriate and expressive of my sorry state.
Not that I'm here to complain. Alhamdulillah. The images of those penguins are still fresh and vivid. Even with a nasty cough, I've still got it easy trust me. Unless of course I suddenly get deported to the south pole along with my cough, get starved for 3 months, then asked to walk 70 miles just to end up gobbled up by a leopard seal. I think I most definitely deserve to complain then.
Seriously now. I'm determined to be thankful and not to whine. Because lately each time I whine about something, I end up seeing or hearing about someone (that's right, a human being, not a penguin) who has it much worse. As in much much worse. I end up feeling ashamed and small. Not particularly pleasant.
Alhamdulillah. That's my mantra in this freshly embraced gratitute spirit. Saying it over and over really changes your mindset. Alhamdulillah. I could have it much worse. I could be allergic, say, to chocolate. Hey I could be allergic to chocolate AND living in the south pole. Geez.
Allah Subhanahu wa ta'ala says:
Therefore remember Me, I will remember you and give thanks to Me and be not ungrateful to Me (Quran, 2:152).
If you are thankful, surely I will increase more (favors) for you. (14:7)
And He gives you all that you ask of Him. And if you count Allah’s favours, you will not be able to number them. Surely man is very unjust, very ungrateful (14: 34)
And if We make man taste mercy from Us, then take it off from him, most surely he is despairing, ungrateful.
Of course it didn't help that when I looked out of the classroom window today I found the world to be completely white. No not snow silly. Dust. Pale ugly dust. Yeah. That was pretty much the final blow. I was later found choking on a spoonful of dust and mumbling my own version of "Love Is All Around":
I feel it in my windpipe
I feel it in my nose
The dust that's all around me
And so my breath slowly goes
It's written on the wind
It's everywhere I go
So if you really love me
Come on and let it go
How appropriate and expressive of my sorry state.
Not that I'm here to complain. Alhamdulillah. The images of those penguins are still fresh and vivid. Even with a nasty cough, I've still got it easy trust me. Unless of course I suddenly get deported to the south pole along with my cough, get starved for 3 months, then asked to walk 70 miles just to end up gobbled up by a leopard seal. I think I most definitely deserve to complain then.
Seriously now. I'm determined to be thankful and not to whine. Because lately each time I whine about something, I end up seeing or hearing about someone (that's right, a human being, not a penguin) who has it much worse. As in much much worse. I end up feeling ashamed and small. Not particularly pleasant.
Alhamdulillah. That's my mantra in this freshly embraced gratitute spirit. Saying it over and over really changes your mindset. Alhamdulillah. I could have it much worse. I could be allergic, say, to chocolate. Hey I could be allergic to chocolate AND living in the south pole. Geez.
Allah Subhanahu wa ta'ala says:
Therefore remember Me, I will remember you and give thanks to Me and be not ungrateful to Me (Quran, 2:152).
If you are thankful, surely I will increase more (favors) for you. (14:7)
And He gives you all that you ask of Him. And if you count Allah’s favours, you will not be able to number them. Surely man is very unjust, very ungrateful (14: 34)
And if We make man taste mercy from Us, then take it off from him, most surely he is despairing, ungrateful.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
What I've been up to
Not all the other teachers are as lucky (the English teachers are swamped with work still), but I really have nothing to do in school these days. It's been so boring. I've packed the boxes, finished all the necessary filings, and curriculum work. My productivity level is now subzero. In the sense that I distract the hardworking teachers when I'm bored, with stuff like barging in with my batch of muffins and announcing an impromptu muffin party. What fun!
But when I found myself staring intensely at a "steak, chicken and kabob" recipes on allrecipes.com, I knew I had to do something. This cannot continue. I don't even like meat all that much. I picked up my cell and made an urgent phone call.
Me: morning! So I have a proposal. If you agree to come around my place after you're done with your training, I'll take a leave from work early and we'll spend the day. I didn't use up all my leaves yet.
Fatima: oh I wish. But I don't have a car today, that's why I didn't even go to train. I'm at home.
Me: just as well, I'll pick you up right now. Be ready.
Fatima: uh, okay!
And that is how I called it a day at work four hours earlier, in favor of a much more interesting day. We treated ourselves to a homemade breakfast, with tea and all. Then sat, armed with platefuls of cheesecake, and watched "March of the penguins". It is such an amazing documentary. Now I understand why each time I used to complain to mama, she'd say "just go and watch the penguin DVD and you'll see what's worth complaining about". I have never been more grateful that I am not a penguin than this morning. Oh and the tiny chicks are so fluffy and adorable, they make you wanna jump into the screen and hug them flat! I want my own tiny penguin:)
Fatima (after hearing what most probably is my 107th cough in the last 2 hours): are you going to die?
Me: umm. Well. I dunno really. I was kinda hoping to stick around a bit longer.
I finally went to my doctor's appointment. Last time I saw him was almost a year ago, and I forgot what an absolutely amazing refined person he is. Dr. Khaled Al-Subaih. He is the gentlest of gentlemen. The way he talks to you, treats you, and takes the time to explain and hear you out and even engage you in small talk. He's such a genteel and gracious person. And of course an amazing well-reputed doctor (hey I had to wait a whole week for an appointment). But it's so worth it. It's not everyday you meet such a person. It's so refreshing. They make the world seem like such a wonderful wonderful place!
I always leave his clinic with a feeling of intense guilt because of the stereotypes I admit I foster with regards to male Kuwaitis. But then I drive back home and I'm almost thrown off the road by the lunatic tailgating me, or the zigzagging freak who seems to mistake the road for his prom dance floor, and suddenly I'm not feeling so guilty. Just plain terrified for my life.
He gave me a new cough medicine to consume. Let's hope this one will work and make the agony of drinking it worthwhile. Okay I'm not being truthful since I've perfected a method that guarantees minimal exposure to taste. I begin by closing my nose tight (so tight in fact that when I finally let go it's always red and a bit swollen), then instantly after drinking it (and with my nose still pressed shut) I rinse my mouth to rid it of any remaining droplets, drink water, then quickly gulp in things that have very strong tastes. When I feel that the chances of any stray cough droplets still lurking inside my mouth is slim to none, I venture open my now bright red nose and smile in satisfaction when I taste nothing.
Not the most dignified approach to cough medicine consumption, granted. But it works, and that's all that counts really.
But when I found myself staring intensely at a "steak, chicken and kabob" recipes on allrecipes.com, I knew I had to do something. This cannot continue. I don't even like meat all that much. I picked up my cell and made an urgent phone call.
Me: morning! So I have a proposal. If you agree to come around my place after you're done with your training, I'll take a leave from work early and we'll spend the day. I didn't use up all my leaves yet.
Fatima: oh I wish. But I don't have a car today, that's why I didn't even go to train. I'm at home.
Me: just as well, I'll pick you up right now. Be ready.
Fatima: uh, okay!
And that is how I called it a day at work four hours earlier, in favor of a much more interesting day. We treated ourselves to a homemade breakfast, with tea and all. Then sat, armed with platefuls of cheesecake, and watched "March of the penguins". It is such an amazing documentary. Now I understand why each time I used to complain to mama, she'd say "just go and watch the penguin DVD and you'll see what's worth complaining about". I have never been more grateful that I am not a penguin than this morning. Oh and the tiny chicks are so fluffy and adorable, they make you wanna jump into the screen and hug them flat! I want my own tiny penguin:)
Fatima (after hearing what most probably is my 107th cough in the last 2 hours): are you going to die?
Me: umm. Well. I dunno really. I was kinda hoping to stick around a bit longer.
I finally went to my doctor's appointment. Last time I saw him was almost a year ago, and I forgot what an absolutely amazing refined person he is. Dr. Khaled Al-Subaih. He is the gentlest of gentlemen. The way he talks to you, treats you, and takes the time to explain and hear you out and even engage you in small talk. He's such a genteel and gracious person. And of course an amazing well-reputed doctor (hey I had to wait a whole week for an appointment). But it's so worth it. It's not everyday you meet such a person. It's so refreshing. They make the world seem like such a wonderful wonderful place!
I always leave his clinic with a feeling of intense guilt because of the stereotypes I admit I foster with regards to male Kuwaitis. But then I drive back home and I'm almost thrown off the road by the lunatic tailgating me, or the zigzagging freak who seems to mistake the road for his prom dance floor, and suddenly I'm not feeling so guilty. Just plain terrified for my life.
He gave me a new cough medicine to consume. Let's hope this one will work and make the agony of drinking it worthwhile. Okay I'm not being truthful since I've perfected a method that guarantees minimal exposure to taste. I begin by closing my nose tight (so tight in fact that when I finally let go it's always red and a bit swollen), then instantly after drinking it (and with my nose still pressed shut) I rinse my mouth to rid it of any remaining droplets, drink water, then quickly gulp in things that have very strong tastes. When I feel that the chances of any stray cough droplets still lurking inside my mouth is slim to none, I venture open my now bright red nose and smile in satisfaction when I taste nothing.
Not the most dignified approach to cough medicine consumption, granted. But it works, and that's all that counts really.
Friday, June 08, 2007
All out of tricks
Mommy come back. You are sorely sorely missed. (not really mommy, enjoy your time. I'm sorry, I'm just being whiny:)
Like I said, I'm all out of tricks. I've entertained myself long enough, the inevitable downhill has finally arrived. And I've been rolling down all day.
I'm feeling so lousy, and the cough is alive and kicking the wind out of my windpipe. Also, the new arrival of a terrible headache completely busted any plans I had of being physically active today. Yep, text book symptoms of "mommy deprivation". It's here and it's ugly.
On a positive note, I just discovered the yummiest, most wholesome drink ever. Boil water, then steep in some ginger, then add lemon and honey. Mmmmmm. frankly, it didn't particularly make me feel better. But it's so hot and soothing and yummy:) I must've drank a bucketful of it today. At least.
In two weeks I'll be leaving Kuwait for good insha'Allah. I've been meaning to write a post about the things I'll miss around here. I think we'd all agree that the timing now is perfect. Well, except of course that I'm feeling lousy, but I expect you to be understanding and just ignore any parts that don't make sense. And also be tolerant when you notice my writing style to be very wanting. Thank you.
It's been two years since I came back to live with my parents here. I've spent the better part of those two years either whining about being in Kuwait or planning my escape. Not in a million years would I have thought I'd be able to come up with more than a couple of things I'd miss about being here, and only if I were severely pressed. Let alone a complete list. And yet, my brain is now crammed with things I'll be missing. Life is funny. I'm sure there's a lesson for me to learn here, but my brain is too exhausted to try to figure it out.
So here goes...
Things I'll miss about being in Kuwait:
1. Mommy. Daddy. Mommy. Daddy. Mommy. Daddy.
I can't say that enough. Being with them is what made it all worthwhile. I'm going to miss them terribly. Naturally I'm biased, but I would vote them best parents ever to have lived on this planet any time of the year! And they'd still be under appreciated.
2. Waking up and finding mom already up and sipping on her latte.
For the life of me, I can't remember a single time through out my life where I woke up and found my mom to be still asleep. It isn't morning if my mom isn't up. I think at some point in my childhood I believed it was my mom who woke up the sunshine:)
3. Hugging my mom goodbye every morning before leaving and hearing her say a prayer for me.
4. Sitting in the living room together after dad arrives from his squash game and watch him animatedly share with us the details of his game. He gets us so involved as we relive the game and its most intense moments:)
5. Mosques. The abundance of mosques. There's a mosque in each corner. Oh and they actually have the womens' section open. I have abundant Ammani memories of having to literally drag the Imam out of his house to find the key and open the door for me. Something I didn't have to do here.
6. Going to the the mosque with dad. And peeking from upstairs until I spot him. I guess that's one of the things you can't outgrow. Such thrill in knowing you can watch them while they are clueless:)
7. Our Thursday family day. A ritual that survived the test of time, and the dwindling number of family members actually present. It's the best day of the week!
8. Constantly and publicly ridiculing mom's reality shows, but then ending up hooked on "Hell's kitchen", which eventually became part of our motherly-daughterly Friday ritual. (disclaimer: I still despise reality shows. This is the exception that proves the rule:). Oh by the way mom, next Friday will be the season finale. Oh and today Keith got kicked out *gasp*. I KNOW.
9. Sitting in a coffee shop with dad and talking. Just talking about this and that.
10. Playing scrabble and snakes and ladders with mom.
Okay so the list isn't that long. But hey, at least it's more than two points. And it mostly revolves around my lovely parents. Because let's face it, Kuwait is an okay place I guess, but if it wasn't for the fact that my parents were here, I'd leave without so much as a glance back.
But they are here, and that is why I'll be leaving part of my heart behind. A very big chunk of it at that. I've always been an advocate for the saying "Home is where your heart is". Only problem is, my heart is being tugged in a lot of directions, the poor thing is confused. That's the downside of having all those dear to you spread out in the big big world.
But as the song goes..."I'm a big big girl in a big big world"
And hopefully my heart is big big enough to handle being on three different continents simultaneously:)
Like I said, I'm all out of tricks. I've entertained myself long enough, the inevitable downhill has finally arrived. And I've been rolling down all day.
I'm feeling so lousy, and the cough is alive and kicking the wind out of my windpipe. Also, the new arrival of a terrible headache completely busted any plans I had of being physically active today. Yep, text book symptoms of "mommy deprivation". It's here and it's ugly.
On a positive note, I just discovered the yummiest, most wholesome drink ever. Boil water, then steep in some ginger, then add lemon and honey. Mmmmmm. frankly, it didn't particularly make me feel better. But it's so hot and soothing and yummy:) I must've drank a bucketful of it today. At least.
In two weeks I'll be leaving Kuwait for good insha'Allah. I've been meaning to write a post about the things I'll miss around here. I think we'd all agree that the timing now is perfect. Well, except of course that I'm feeling lousy, but I expect you to be understanding and just ignore any parts that don't make sense. And also be tolerant when you notice my writing style to be very wanting. Thank you.
It's been two years since I came back to live with my parents here. I've spent the better part of those two years either whining about being in Kuwait or planning my escape. Not in a million years would I have thought I'd be able to come up with more than a couple of things I'd miss about being here, and only if I were severely pressed. Let alone a complete list. And yet, my brain is now crammed with things I'll be missing. Life is funny. I'm sure there's a lesson for me to learn here, but my brain is too exhausted to try to figure it out.
So here goes...
Things I'll miss about being in Kuwait:
1. Mommy. Daddy. Mommy. Daddy. Mommy. Daddy.
I can't say that enough. Being with them is what made it all worthwhile. I'm going to miss them terribly. Naturally I'm biased, but I would vote them best parents ever to have lived on this planet any time of the year! And they'd still be under appreciated.
2. Waking up and finding mom already up and sipping on her latte.
For the life of me, I can't remember a single time through out my life where I woke up and found my mom to be still asleep. It isn't morning if my mom isn't up. I think at some point in my childhood I believed it was my mom who woke up the sunshine:)
3. Hugging my mom goodbye every morning before leaving and hearing her say a prayer for me.
4. Sitting in the living room together after dad arrives from his squash game and watch him animatedly share with us the details of his game. He gets us so involved as we relive the game and its most intense moments:)
5. Mosques. The abundance of mosques. There's a mosque in each corner. Oh and they actually have the womens' section open. I have abundant Ammani memories of having to literally drag the Imam out of his house to find the key and open the door for me. Something I didn't have to do here.
6. Going to the the mosque with dad. And peeking from upstairs until I spot him. I guess that's one of the things you can't outgrow. Such thrill in knowing you can watch them while they are clueless:)
7. Our Thursday family day. A ritual that survived the test of time, and the dwindling number of family members actually present. It's the best day of the week!
8. Constantly and publicly ridiculing mom's reality shows, but then ending up hooked on "Hell's kitchen", which eventually became part of our motherly-daughterly Friday ritual. (disclaimer: I still despise reality shows. This is the exception that proves the rule:). Oh by the way mom, next Friday will be the season finale. Oh and today Keith got kicked out *gasp*. I KNOW.
9. Sitting in a coffee shop with dad and talking. Just talking about this and that.
10. Playing scrabble and snakes and ladders with mom.
Okay so the list isn't that long. But hey, at least it's more than two points. And it mostly revolves around my lovely parents. Because let's face it, Kuwait is an okay place I guess, but if it wasn't for the fact that my parents were here, I'd leave without so much as a glance back.
But they are here, and that is why I'll be leaving part of my heart behind. A very big chunk of it at that. I've always been an advocate for the saying "Home is where your heart is". Only problem is, my heart is being tugged in a lot of directions, the poor thing is confused. That's the downside of having all those dear to you spread out in the big big world.
But as the song goes..."I'm a big big girl in a big big world"
And hopefully my heart is big big enough to handle being on three different continents simultaneously:)
Thursday, June 07, 2007
Bugged by coughs
I finally decided to do something about that nasty cough that seems to have tightened its grip on me for the last 3 days. It's one of those allergy-induced dry coughs that literally tears your windpipe apart and leaves your throat red and raw. Lately I've been consuming Strepils (lemon and honey flavored, yum!) like it was a new food group or something.
This morning I did some online research about my cough, then walked to our nearby pharmacy. The pharmacist is something of a friend of mine. A friendship that developed at the dear price of continuously paying an arm and a leg on allergy medicines and Cortisone nasal sprays. I opened the door just as I was attacked by a string of painful coughs.
Pharmacist friend: Allergy's giving you a hard time, eh?
I managed a smile, half a nod and 3 coughs in answer.
I left with a new packet of allergy pills and some cough syrup. Syrup? Yikes. I cringed at the thought. I don't remember the last time I took syrup. Actually I do remember. I was 4 and it literally took 5 able-bodied grownups to pin me down and stick that spoonful of bitterness into my throat. I fought hard.
When I was old enough to swallow pills, I swore off syrups. And up until this morning, I felt no shame declaring to my doctors upon seeing them scribble a syrup prescription that "sorry I don't drink syrups. They taste like crap".
But today I said nothing. Maybe it has something to do with having become a teacher. I mean, let's face it, I still act crazy a lot, so maybe I felt the need to outgrow something (anything!) to get a sense of accomplishment. You know, tangible evidence of my long-overdue maturity.
I swallowed it with minimal drama (unless you count the sound effects and facial expressions). Hopefully it'll suppress my cough insha'Allah, because I don't think I can cough one more time.
I've been taking it easy this morning, since I'm still beat up from my long day yesterday. I spent 16 hours straight outside the house. Although none of them involved strenuous physical activity, I still feel every bit of me aching. At one point yesterday I did sleep on my classroom floor yet again. So that'll explain the pain in my neck and hips.
As a token of my appreciation, I had promised Ahmed to take him wall climbing, which I did yesterday. I met with him, Ms. Darci and his 2-year-old cute sister. We had burgers at Johnny Rockets, then took him climbing. It was his first time, so there was a lot of "Aaah I'm falling"s involved. But I think he had fun. I hadn't actually gone climbing ever since I posted about it months earlier. Maybe I'll go soon. I was itching to climb yesterday, but I had a skirt on (although admittedly, it served as a handy excuse when Ahmed suddenly exclaimed "oh you are laughing at me??? Let me see you climb the level 3!") .
Time's flying by. It's already 2 pm., although I feel I just woke up a while ago (which is far from the truth, since I woke up at like 6 am. or something). It wasn't a very productive morning, with the exception of preparing the beds for my friends who should be sleeping over this weekend, and making yummy muffins. Speaking of which, I think I ate one muffin too much.
What do you know, it's already time to take my 2nd dose of cough syrup. Brace yourselves people, this may turn ugly.
This morning I did some online research about my cough, then walked to our nearby pharmacy. The pharmacist is something of a friend of mine. A friendship that developed at the dear price of continuously paying an arm and a leg on allergy medicines and Cortisone nasal sprays. I opened the door just as I was attacked by a string of painful coughs.
Pharmacist friend: Allergy's giving you a hard time, eh?
I managed a smile, half a nod and 3 coughs in answer.
I left with a new packet of allergy pills and some cough syrup. Syrup? Yikes. I cringed at the thought. I don't remember the last time I took syrup. Actually I do remember. I was 4 and it literally took 5 able-bodied grownups to pin me down and stick that spoonful of bitterness into my throat. I fought hard.
When I was old enough to swallow pills, I swore off syrups. And up until this morning, I felt no shame declaring to my doctors upon seeing them scribble a syrup prescription that "sorry I don't drink syrups. They taste like crap".
But today I said nothing. Maybe it has something to do with having become a teacher. I mean, let's face it, I still act crazy a lot, so maybe I felt the need to outgrow something (anything!) to get a sense of accomplishment. You know, tangible evidence of my long-overdue maturity.
I swallowed it with minimal drama (unless you count the sound effects and facial expressions). Hopefully it'll suppress my cough insha'Allah, because I don't think I can cough one more time.
I've been taking it easy this morning, since I'm still beat up from my long day yesterday. I spent 16 hours straight outside the house. Although none of them involved strenuous physical activity, I still feel every bit of me aching. At one point yesterday I did sleep on my classroom floor yet again. So that'll explain the pain in my neck and hips.
As a token of my appreciation, I had promised Ahmed to take him wall climbing, which I did yesterday. I met with him, Ms. Darci and his 2-year-old cute sister. We had burgers at Johnny Rockets, then took him climbing. It was his first time, so there was a lot of "Aaah I'm falling"s involved. But I think he had fun. I hadn't actually gone climbing ever since I posted about it months earlier. Maybe I'll go soon. I was itching to climb yesterday, but I had a skirt on (although admittedly, it served as a handy excuse when Ahmed suddenly exclaimed "oh you are laughing at me??? Let me see you climb the level 3!") .
Time's flying by. It's already 2 pm., although I feel I just woke up a while ago (which is far from the truth, since I woke up at like 6 am. or something). It wasn't a very productive morning, with the exception of preparing the beds for my friends who should be sleeping over this weekend, and making yummy muffins. Speaking of which, I think I ate one muffin too much.
What do you know, it's already time to take my 2nd dose of cough syrup. Brace yourselves people, this may turn ugly.
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
Super Size Me
I just returned from Cinemagic's documentary night screening. Today it was "Super Size Me". And that much I can tell you: I don't think I'll ever set foot in a McDonald's. Ever.
Not that I do. I actually like to think that my diet is quite healthy. I mean, I honestly can't remember the last time I ate fast food. I am absolutely in love with all kinds of fruits, which is usually where I satisfy most of my sugar cravings (dates are the best!). I eat a bucketful of salad everyday, and absolutely detest fried foods. I feel sick just looking at them.
But of course you're thinking of chocolates, and why shouldn't you when it's all I talk about:) In fact, my actual consumption of chocolates falls shockingly short of the frequency of my odes to them. I mean don't get me wrong I LOVE the stuff. I would live off it if I could (aaah. What a life!). But I also wouldn't want to walk around with the waistline of a hippo. Hardly good for my self esteem. And would seriously affect my ability to chase the kids back to class, a skill I cannot afford to lose.
I particularly enjoyed the part where a psychologist was explaining to the guy doing the experiment (he ate nothing but MacDonald's for a month!) that kids get hooked up on McDonald's because they associate it with fun (the playground) and toys (from happy meals) and fun times spent with their families. They are thus conditioned to love it. So the guy decides that once he has his own kids, he's going to punch them each time they pass a fast food restaurant, to ensure a negative association! Brilliantly radical, no?
Of course he might do time for child abuse, but at least he'll rest assured his kids are eating their veggies.
Not that I do. I actually like to think that my diet is quite healthy. I mean, I honestly can't remember the last time I ate fast food. I am absolutely in love with all kinds of fruits, which is usually where I satisfy most of my sugar cravings (dates are the best!). I eat a bucketful of salad everyday, and absolutely detest fried foods. I feel sick just looking at them.
But of course you're thinking of chocolates, and why shouldn't you when it's all I talk about:) In fact, my actual consumption of chocolates falls shockingly short of the frequency of my odes to them. I mean don't get me wrong I LOVE the stuff. I would live off it if I could (aaah. What a life!). But I also wouldn't want to walk around with the waistline of a hippo. Hardly good for my self esteem. And would seriously affect my ability to chase the kids back to class, a skill I cannot afford to lose.
I particularly enjoyed the part where a psychologist was explaining to the guy doing the experiment (he ate nothing but MacDonald's for a month!) that kids get hooked up on McDonald's because they associate it with fun (the playground) and toys (from happy meals) and fun times spent with their families. They are thus conditioned to love it. So the guy decides that once he has his own kids, he's going to punch them each time they pass a fast food restaurant, to ensure a negative association! Brilliantly radical, no?
Of course he might do time for child abuse, but at least he'll rest assured his kids are eating their veggies.
A bagful of cuteness
There was a gentle knock, then a tiny face peeked. It was Ahmed's. My favorite favorite Ahmed. He walked in hesitantly, his hands behind his back, I could see part of what seemed like a gift bag he was hiding with his body. He finally made it to my desk and with a smile handed me a bag full of gifts.
The gesture itself swept me off my feet, but when I actually took a look at the contents of the bag, I was near tears. A box of heavenly Guylian chocolates which I absolutely adore, the CUTEST Cuddly lion I've ever seen (check it out bellow), a photo frame and a touching poem about teachers he chose himself and signed a thank you underneath.
souce: Amazon.comNow all throughout the school year I was getting a continuous doses of hugs and kisses from the Grade 4 girls I was teaching reading. As for the boys, they are obviously less affectionate, and although some of them were absolutely huggable and kissable, I thought better than to do that. Plus I had a feeling a hug from the teacher would ensure a wave of teasing from the whole class which would horrify the poor boy. So they only got playful pats and cheek squeezes and half hugs if it was very necessary. I was also worried about school policy.
But I didn't care today. I hugged and kissed him until he resembled a ripe tomato:) I wanted to cry. He absolutely made my day! I make it a point to make a big deal when someone gives me a gift, even if I'm not crazy about it. It has been instilled in us since childhood by mom and dad that "it's the thought that counts". So image what my reaction would be when I'm absolutely IN LOVE with the gift. I mean, CHOCOLATES. And a cuuuuuuute cute stuffed animal.
When I later told his mom, Ms. Darci who's also a teacher, how touched I was. She said that they went out yesterday to pick out gifts for all his teachers. Then he told her "Mom can I please get Ms. Mariam something special? Please?". And when he saw that lion he instantly got it and said "Please mom I want to get this lion for Ms. Mariam I know she'll like it".
Like it? I AM IN LOVE WITH IT. And the fact that it is from one of my students only makes it a million times more special.
His mom then said "I think you must've really touched him this year. He love you".
I mean, to have a 9 year old pick out gifts that are exactly the things I adore, is amazing. I mean, he obviously doesn't read my blog. So he has no way of knowing that the word "chocolate" is probably the most frequently used word in my blog. Nor did he read about my "Happy dozes" collection. Or that I absolutely love poems:) And yet he went and handpicked me a collection of the best gifts I could receive.
So Mr. Leo, welcome to my happy dozes collection. I trust you will find a lot of colorful company:)
*sigh*... Alhamdullilah. I feel so blessed!
امي مسافره وحعمل حفله
It was actually my HOD who reminded me about this song. I am so out of touch with the music/video clip industry. And once you watch it, you'll know why. Pretty, umm, I'm not really sure what the best descriptive word would be. You be the judge!
Mommy, this goes out to you.... :D
Okay actually I don't think you should watch it mom, I don't think you could handle it. And if you do, you'll probably go straight to court and disown me. As a matter of fact, no one should watch it. It's not exactly the classiest type of music around. Hardly so! But hey, I'm alone and bored so don't judge me:P
Mommy, this goes out to you.... :D
Okay actually I don't think you should watch it mom, I don't think you could handle it. And if you do, you'll probably go straight to court and disown me. As a matter of fact, no one should watch it. It's not exactly the classiest type of music around. Hardly so! But hey, I'm alone and bored so don't judge me:P
Monday, June 04, 2007
Home Entertainment
I've braved out the first night, and I must admit I'm pretty proud of myself. There was that momentary panic attack when I heard distinct voices coming from my parents' bedroom. I was frozen in fear for a second. I wasn't hallucinating, there were definitely voices in there. Further investigation revealed the culprit to be my dad's radio. Apparently, it suddenly decided to turn on and announce news in the middle of the night. Never mind the mental well being of a 23-year-old girl.
Come morning, it took me twice as much time to get ready for work. But you wouldn't find it surprising when you consider that I complied with a sudden urge to take a long shower, then open my wardrobe and play dress up. Don't even ask. But I saw no harm in indulging my whims. Plus I managed to get to work on time (the blessing of being an early bird!).
Another urge was to prance around the multitude of empty spaces in the house. What, a girl must keep herself entertained. As I was about to leave the house, I had the luxury of choosing which car to use. After a couple of minutes in contemplation (during which I think I might have dozed off), I settled on the jeep. It was a close call, but the fact that it had a CD player gave it the edge. Oh and I was happy to find out that dad had left it with a full tank. Aren't dads the best?
On a weird note, it seems I've lost a bit of my appetite for the last 17 hours. Which isn't exactly a usual occurrence. Last time I lost my appetite was when I had just finished reading Harry Potter and SHE KILLED DUMBLEDORE (yeah I don't think I'll ever get over that). I remember I also fought with my whole family, as if somehow they were responsible for his sad sad and untimely death. But anyway, back to my diminishing appetite. Not that I'm worried (lets face it, even my mourning for dumbledore's death didn't stop me from devouring Dalia's lunch menu. Boy does this girl know how to cook), but just for fun I was trying to pin point the underlying cause. At the end I figured it must be one of the three:
1. Somewhere in my subconscious I have a serious fear that mom abandoned me and so I am rationing my food supply.
2. I don't feel like dish washing. And eating over the sink is uncomfortable.
3. I have to make weight in time for my next boxing championship.
Of course I don't really box, but I thought it would make a good reason.
As you can see, I have managed so far to keep myself entertained thanks to such spur-of-the-moment crazy whims. This post being one of them. But the inspiration is dwindling. I'll soon run out of self-entertainment measures. Which is when I'll start my mushy-wushy saga:) Give it a day max.
Come morning, it took me twice as much time to get ready for work. But you wouldn't find it surprising when you consider that I complied with a sudden urge to take a long shower, then open my wardrobe and play dress up. Don't even ask. But I saw no harm in indulging my whims. Plus I managed to get to work on time (the blessing of being an early bird!).
Another urge was to prance around the multitude of empty spaces in the house. What, a girl must keep herself entertained. As I was about to leave the house, I had the luxury of choosing which car to use. After a couple of minutes in contemplation (during which I think I might have dozed off), I settled on the jeep. It was a close call, but the fact that it had a CD player gave it the edge. Oh and I was happy to find out that dad had left it with a full tank. Aren't dads the best?
On a weird note, it seems I've lost a bit of my appetite for the last 17 hours. Which isn't exactly a usual occurrence. Last time I lost my appetite was when I had just finished reading Harry Potter and SHE KILLED DUMBLEDORE (yeah I don't think I'll ever get over that). I remember I also fought with my whole family, as if somehow they were responsible for his sad sad and untimely death. But anyway, back to my diminishing appetite. Not that I'm worried (lets face it, even my mourning for dumbledore's death didn't stop me from devouring Dalia's lunch menu. Boy does this girl know how to cook), but just for fun I was trying to pin point the underlying cause. At the end I figured it must be one of the three:
1. Somewhere in my subconscious I have a serious fear that mom abandoned me and so I am rationing my food supply.
2. I don't feel like dish washing. And eating over the sink is uncomfortable.
3. I have to make weight in time for my next boxing championship.
Of course I don't really box, but I thought it would make a good reason.
As you can see, I have managed so far to keep myself entertained thanks to such spur-of-the-moment crazy whims. This post being one of them. But the inspiration is dwindling. I'll soon run out of self-entertainment measures. Which is when I'll start my mushy-wushy saga:) Give it a day max.
Sunday, June 03, 2007
All set to go
Only the luggage at the door is not mine. Boo Hoo. Tonight, mom and dad will be heading to Boston to meet my sister, my brother coming down from Montreal, and later my auntie from Toronto. The reason for this family reunion? My smarty-pants sister's graduation of course!
(more on my delirious happiness in a second)
Right now however, I have some concerns to voice out. Lately I have noticed that the word "family reunion" has been used loosely. A lot of those so-called family reunions have been taking place in continents near and far. Which is a delightful thing really, if it wasn't for a teenie weenie problematic detail. I am NOT included.
Which is the reason I call for the establishment of a guiding set of rules for any future family reunions (yep I'm letting you guys get away with this last one).
Effective June 19th, 2007.
Alhusseini Family Reunion Code of Conduct:
1. It is only a family reunion if at least 3 family members from 3 different cities/countries/continents are present at the same time. Naturally, the more the merrier!
2. "Family" here refers to parents, siblings, grandparents, aunties, uncles, cousins and crazy fat cats.
2. One of these 3 or more people must be me.
Oh what do you know, that's not too complicated now is it?:)
I would go on sulking about being left out, but I honestly can't get myself to. I'm SO excited for my sister! So proud! So happy! I love you sis. You're awesome! This is yet another occasion for me to brag about having a brilliant sister. I'm hoping that with enough sisterly exposure some of the brilliance will rub off on me:)
Dad will be away for two weeks, while mom claims she'll return in 9 days. I use the word "claim" because after taking a look at the sheer amount of food she's left me in the freezer, I am having my doubts. And so would you if your mom left you enough food to last you at least 6 months. That or she'll return in 9 days to find me extremely fat.
In a way, this will be a test drive of my upcoming year away from the parents. I have gotten so used to having them around. It's such a joy, that I will dearly miss. So yeah, expect some serious nostalgic posts during those 9++ days of my mom and dad's absence.
And just in case you're wondering, no of course I'm not scared. I resent what you're insinuating. A scaredy cat? Me? Feh.
I'm telling you I am on top of things. I just wish I had our baseball bat back in Amman handy. No matter, my brother's size 48.5 boots will more than suffice it.
Hey wait a second, why is mom taking winter clothes?? It won't be winter till December. Mom? moooom???
Oh well at least I won't starve to death.
(more on my delirious happiness in a second)
Right now however, I have some concerns to voice out. Lately I have noticed that the word "family reunion" has been used loosely. A lot of those so-called family reunions have been taking place in continents near and far. Which is a delightful thing really, if it wasn't for a teenie weenie problematic detail. I am NOT included.
Which is the reason I call for the establishment of a guiding set of rules for any future family reunions (yep I'm letting you guys get away with this last one).
Effective June 19th, 2007.
Alhusseini Family Reunion Code of Conduct:
1. It is only a family reunion if at least 3 family members from 3 different cities/countries/continents are present at the same time. Naturally, the more the merrier!
2. "Family" here refers to parents, siblings, grandparents, aunties, uncles, cousins and crazy fat cats.
2. One of these 3 or more people must be me.
Oh what do you know, that's not too complicated now is it?:)
I would go on sulking about being left out, but I honestly can't get myself to. I'm SO excited for my sister! So proud! So happy! I love you sis. You're awesome! This is yet another occasion for me to brag about having a brilliant sister. I'm hoping that with enough sisterly exposure some of the brilliance will rub off on me:)
Dad will be away for two weeks, while mom claims she'll return in 9 days. I use the word "claim" because after taking a look at the sheer amount of food she's left me in the freezer, I am having my doubts. And so would you if your mom left you enough food to last you at least 6 months. That or she'll return in 9 days to find me extremely fat.
In a way, this will be a test drive of my upcoming year away from the parents. I have gotten so used to having them around. It's such a joy, that I will dearly miss. So yeah, expect some serious nostalgic posts during those 9++ days of my mom and dad's absence.
And just in case you're wondering, no of course I'm not scared. I resent what you're insinuating. A scaredy cat? Me? Feh.
I'm telling you I am on top of things. I just wish I had our baseball bat back in Amman handy. No matter, my brother's size 48.5 boots will more than suffice it.
Hey wait a second, why is mom taking winter clothes?? It won't be winter till December. Mom? moooom???
Oh well at least I won't starve to death.
Friday, June 01, 2007
Just Because
1. I love Meg Ryan.
2. I love buying adorably tiny baby clothes.
3. I love drinking milk with pizza.
4. I love to jump into my colorful pyjamas.
5. I love it when it's a full moon. Last night it was.
2. I love buying adorably tiny baby clothes.
3. I love drinking milk with pizza.
4. I love to jump into my colorful pyjamas.
5. I love it when it's a full moon. Last night it was.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
What made me smile today
1. Reading this article on what NOT to include in your resume. Apparently, I'm going to have to change the baby blue paper with teddy bears in the background and remove the attached letter from my mom.
2. Getting a text message from Donia telling me she's in the kitchen, staring at the cookbook, trying to figure out what to cook for the very first time. Initially, her image in the kitchen made me smile, but once I tried to picture the end result, I was giggling uncontrollably. Bless them, they are adorable:)
3. Passing the ice-cream man on the beach as I ran. He's a sweet-looking old Egyptian man, not that I noticed him before he burst out in a raspy but sweet voice "ma timshi ya binti, btorkodi laih! bil ra7ah..bil ra7ah.. tmawwiti nafsek laih??" (slow down girl, slow down, why don't you just walk?). I chuckled and continued running. For a second there, I felt I was back in Cairo. The ease in his voice as he yelled in my direction and the fact that I smiled back had a very distinct cairo-ish feel about it. I love Egyptians.
4. Running past a healthy looking young man, who was taking leisurely strides at the beach and then starting my countdown until he.... comes rushing past me! Happens every time. Apparently having a girl (said with a cringe and accompanied with a generous amount of spit for maximum disgust effect) outrun him is not to be taken lightly. Recovering from wounded egos, guys would almost ALWAYS sprint past me like one of those Kenyan Olympic medalists. This no doubt lasts for a very short interval, just long enough to reclaim his stature as the Alpha male, or at least until he's out of my sight where no doubt he'll collapse gasping for breath. There's a reason I never see them again after they rush past me you know.
Three years ago I may have impulsively burst out something like "You know it would be better for your stamina to maintain a slower pace for a longer time". But now I know better. I realise how crucial this short-lived macho show is for him. Stripping him of that ego-boost would no doubt have unspeakable and lasting damage.
This new found understanding of the knots and bolts of the male psyche, did not come to me naturally I'm afraid. I have a nice friend to thank for that. It was during a gym incident, where I unwittingly bombarded him with such a "wouldn't it be better if you" statement. He was horrified at first, but eventually realised it was really just harmless naivety from my part. He then took it upon himself to deliver a comprehensive explanation of the ins and outs of the male psyche. He even demonstrated a few muscle flexes and other show-offy stunts that guys are likely to pull in the presence of a double X carrying individual.
It was a very eye-opening and enlightening experience. And so when faced with such a situation, I resort to amused giggles. Guys are funny.
5. A sticker ad on the light pole that said that Abu Abdulla has "قراقير" for sale. Now I have absolutely no idea what "qaraqeer" are (heck I'm not even sure I remember it correctly), but if qaraqeer look half as funny as they sound, then I'd be chuckling for sure.
6. Mom: I'm making you baked cheesecake.
Me: *goofy smile followed by a Bingo Dance adaptation: The cheesecake Dance*
This is what made me smile today. What about you?
Monday, May 28, 2007
Kid-less
There are no kids at school (well, unless you count the teachers' infants and toddlers who started showing up to work with their mothers).
The corridors are hauntingly empty, as each teacher is lost in her own classroom among piles of teaching aids to store and classify and declutter. The more you dig in the cabinets, the more clutter seems to come out. Not particularly fun.
Then there's the fact that I feel I've been relocated inside an ice cube. Not having to run around the corridors all day, plus a classroom suddenly devoid of warm student breath, makes it a chilly experience, to say the least. I have a sweatshirt on, which is proving to be quite useless. As I type this, my fingers are getting stiff from the cold and it's becoming increasingly difficult to move them freely around the keyboard. I might have to restrict my letter-usage to only those on the one line I rest my fingers on. I wonder what weird result that would yield. Definitely not one of my brightest ideas. But it's hard to be ingenious when you've got a brain freeze. And no, not because of ice-cream (regretfully).
I also seem to have done something to strain my neck last night, as it's been aching all morning. The problem is from the left side, so I am unable to turn my neck to the left. When an occasion arises where I find myself required to look left, I have to do a whole 270 degree turn. It's entertaining to the bystanders.
Another downside to spending an entire working day cooped up in a freezing classroom alone, is that I'm finding myself continuously hungry. As a result my tupperware contents are diminished early in the school day. Later pangs of hunger sent me searching my classroom for any edibles. Only thing I found was the box of candy I got for the kids a few weeks back (well I did find a box of Rice Crispies that we used at the beginning of the year, but my better judgement told me to avoid it as long as I can). I took a bite of the candy then spit it out. It tastes icky. I can't believe I used to give that to the kids and they used to be excited about it. Poor kids. Note to self: taste the candy beforehand.
I should probably go for a "social tour" around the school, because I'm really getting sick of my classroom. I think I even heard myself have a conversation with myself a while back. Hardly a healthy thing, I daresay.
This will sound crazy, but I wouldn't mind having Abdulaziz drop by for a couple of minutes, you know, to break the mind-numbing monotony of my day. But only for a couple of minutes, because anything longer would have catastrophic effects on all the organizing I've been doing for the last 2 days. Come to think of it, 2 minutes is too much, he can get the destruction job done in 20 seconds if he has to, or 30 seconds if he was to enjoy a comfortable pace.
Meh. I'm hungry again.
The corridors are hauntingly empty, as each teacher is lost in her own classroom among piles of teaching aids to store and classify and declutter. The more you dig in the cabinets, the more clutter seems to come out. Not particularly fun.
Then there's the fact that I feel I've been relocated inside an ice cube. Not having to run around the corridors all day, plus a classroom suddenly devoid of warm student breath, makes it a chilly experience, to say the least. I have a sweatshirt on, which is proving to be quite useless. As I type this, my fingers are getting stiff from the cold and it's becoming increasingly difficult to move them freely around the keyboard. I might have to restrict my letter-usage to only those on the one line I rest my fingers on. I wonder what weird result that would yield. Definitely not one of my brightest ideas. But it's hard to be ingenious when you've got a brain freeze. And no, not because of ice-cream (regretfully).
I also seem to have done something to strain my neck last night, as it's been aching all morning. The problem is from the left side, so I am unable to turn my neck to the left. When an occasion arises where I find myself required to look left, I have to do a whole 270 degree turn. It's entertaining to the bystanders.
Another downside to spending an entire working day cooped up in a freezing classroom alone, is that I'm finding myself continuously hungry. As a result my tupperware contents are diminished early in the school day. Later pangs of hunger sent me searching my classroom for any edibles. Only thing I found was the box of candy I got for the kids a few weeks back (well I did find a box of Rice Crispies that we used at the beginning of the year, but my better judgement told me to avoid it as long as I can). I took a bite of the candy then spit it out. It tastes icky. I can't believe I used to give that to the kids and they used to be excited about it. Poor kids. Note to self: taste the candy beforehand.
I should probably go for a "social tour" around the school, because I'm really getting sick of my classroom. I think I even heard myself have a conversation with myself a while back. Hardly a healthy thing, I daresay.
This will sound crazy, but I wouldn't mind having Abdulaziz drop by for a couple of minutes, you know, to break the mind-numbing monotony of my day. But only for a couple of minutes, because anything longer would have catastrophic effects on all the organizing I've been doing for the last 2 days. Come to think of it, 2 minutes is too much, he can get the destruction job done in 20 seconds if he has to, or 30 seconds if he was to enjoy a comfortable pace.
Meh. I'm hungry again.
Saturday, May 26, 2007
مصر أم الدنيا
I like to think that I've made a few wise decisions throughout my life. Going to Egypt to attend my best friend's wedding scores high on that list. I just got back, safe and sound alhmadulillah. I walked into that airplane expecting to have a near death experience, but I was pleasantly surprised. All engines were working and there was actually no delay in both trips. I'm starting to believe that having low or no expectations guarantees customer happiness:)
The past two days were so intense for me, from an emotional perspective that is seems quite unattainable, and almost unethical to try to sum them up in a piece of writing. Writing has always been my outlet, yet suddenly is seems insufficient. I have an urge to burst into a long expressional dance. But I think last night's wedding was a living proof of my inherent and irreversible inability to dance. But more on the wedding later.
Right now I'll describe Cairo, the streets of Cairo, and the bewitching chaos that is Cairo. Cairo streets are dirty, indefinitely crowded, and horrendously chaotic (especially if you're attempting to drive). Clearly not a postcard image. Why then do I find myself completely wooed by it? Cairo streets are pulsating with life, movement, sounds and colors. At least for a "tourist" like me, it was captivating. Cairo never sleeps.
So much so that while out on my first night there with Donia and her fiance, I was just too exhausted at the end of the evening, I just lay on the car's backseat, used the laptop bag as a pillow and hugged Ahmed's just purchased wedding shoebox. I called it a day, but outside toddlers were running wild.
She's married. She'll be moving away tomorrow morning, starting their new life together away from home. He has been stationed outside Cairo. Her dad was taking it especially hard. And kept wondering aloud why anyone in his right mind would give away his daughter to a complete stranger. He was so cute. Her only sister will definitely miss her. So will her mom, who has always been more of a friend to Donia. I miss her already, I'll always miss her, but I know that no matter what, I'll always have my best friend. And I know now that if I ever want to see her, all I need to do is get married. Piece of cake!
Hmmm.. Maybe not.
The past two days were so intense for me, from an emotional perspective that is seems quite unattainable, and almost unethical to try to sum them up in a piece of writing. Writing has always been my outlet, yet suddenly is seems insufficient. I have an urge to burst into a long expressional dance. But I think last night's wedding was a living proof of my inherent and irreversible inability to dance. But more on the wedding later.
Right now I'll describe Cairo, the streets of Cairo, and the bewitching chaos that is Cairo. Cairo streets are dirty, indefinitely crowded, and horrendously chaotic (especially if you're attempting to drive). Clearly not a postcard image. Why then do I find myself completely wooed by it? Cairo streets are pulsating with life, movement, sounds and colors. At least for a "tourist" like me, it was captivating. Cairo never sleeps.
So much so that while out on my first night there with Donia and her fiance, I was just too exhausted at the end of the evening, I just lay on the car's backseat, used the laptop bag as a pillow and hugged Ahmed's just purchased wedding shoebox. I called it a day, but outside toddlers were running wild.
But Cairo wouldn't be half as fascinating without its people. Loud, talkative, extra friendly, downright nosey and with an incorrigible sense of humor, Egyptians put the charm into Cairo.
It was Donia's wedding day and we walked out of her building gate. A few meters away, on the pavement and sitting on old shabby looking stools were two old men (the janitor and nearby mechanic as I later found out). The minute they saw Donia they exclaimed "aih ya gameel, khalas il naharda??? " (hey beautiful, today's the day, eh?). We took a turn and walked past a fruit shop, the owner also exclaimed in excitement "alf alf mabrook lal 3aroosa" (congratulations for the bride!). This went on as we passed shop after shop, each person's face seemed to light up when they saw Donia. She must've gotten a thousand best wishes. That is the Egyptian way.
When we drove in her mom's car into Le Meridian to get he ready for the wedding, the security guy asked us to open the trunk. Donia's mom mentioned casually that it has the "bride's stuff". Instantaneously he returned the keys and started congratulating her and yelled to the door man "let her in, she's a bride!", who instantly raised his hands up to the sky and said "3o2bali ya raaaab" (may I get married soon too!) . That is hardly professional, but that is the Egyptian way.
Who can resist the Egyptian way? I am in love with Cairo. In love with its dirt, in love with its chaos and in love with its people.
But this time around i wasn't a tourist, I was a best friend on a mission. It was my best friend's wedding. Again I find myself overwhelmed and stripped of any eloquence when I try to express my feelings, so I'll adopt a "divide and conquer" approach. Let's begin with the groom, whom I haven't met until 2 days ago. I'll admit to having made a complete fool of myself for the first 10 minutes after he'd arrived at Donia's house. I just couldn't believe that there was a guy in donia's house and is donia's very-soon-to-be husband. I kept coming out of the room, giggling like a 12 year old and rushing back in. Thankfully though, I eventually snapped out of it in time to make a good impression and have him promise that once i get married (we're adopting a hopeful approach) they'll come attend mine. I haven't realised how crucial it was for Ahmed to meet me for him to like me, until I realised what a distorted image he had of me.
Ten seconds after first meeting me:
Ahmed: hmm.. you're much thinner than your pictures.
Me: What pictures?
Me: What pictures?
Then later in the evening, same day. He suddenly blurts out.
Ahmed: You are such a sweet girl, I had a completely different impression from the photos.
Me: seriously, WHAT photos????
Apparently Donia has some hidden photos of a fat evil me that she goes around distributing. How nice. hehe
They were both so cute together. They are just so compatible masha'Allah. They looked so happy together. Ahmed is a very sweet and decent guy and he seems to love her so much. Insha'Allah they will be blessed in their new life.
The wedding was beautiful. They were beautiful. Donia was glowing... I was too happy for words. I don't think I've ever been happier for someone. I've enjoyed every minute of the wedding (and that's saying something for a wedding-hater like myself). I couldn't contain my happiness, I wanted to skip around and yell. I didn't, don't worry.
I of course, could not waste a chance to make a spectacle of myself. You see her dress had a very long tail that seemed to extend behind her forever. I was assigned the duty of lifting it up when she walks, and I was doing such a good job. Then they wanted to go around the tables to shake hands with the guests. This required serious maneuvering between the tables, which I did, albeit not so gracefully. I half-tripped every 2 seconds, skipped on one foot at times to avoid bumping into something. But the grand finale was when her uncle called me and extended his hand to me, I of course extended my right hand, while still grabbing on to the dress with my left. Donia oblivious to my dilemma kept walking and I was yanked back and forth. The guests were very amused. I am hoping and praying that none of this was caught on tape. It is one thing to make a few nearby guests giggle, and another to be the object of ridicule in each wedding-watching family gathering for years and years to come.
Donia was the cutest, most spontaneous bride ever. I mean, 5 minutes before the makeup lady arrived we were both devouring big macs. Speaking of make-up, I sat on the hotel bed, in my pajamas mesmerised while they applied layers of make up. It was all so foreign to me. I of course flatly refused to apply anything and only changed into my clothes when the lady helping donia put on her dress yelled at me to GET READY. scary lady I tell you.
I am home now, and I am still almost breathless of excitement. I can't possibly be any happier for her. I am thankful to have been able to attend her wedding. Her dad was so touched by the gesture that he vowed in front of her entire family that when my wedding day comes and no matter where it is, even if across the Atlantic, he would send her there. Even if for whatever reason her husband doesn't or can't send her, then he will personally make sure she'll be there. That promise was the best gift I could ask for.
Donia on the other hand was sitting in a corner planning what to her obviously is a vacation opportunity worth seizing: "okay do it in the states. no no no wait I want to go to Paris. Well anywhere in Europe really would be okay. Okay so when will I be travelling???? Yalla get married."
She's married. She'll be moving away tomorrow morning, starting their new life together away from home. He has been stationed outside Cairo. Her dad was taking it especially hard. And kept wondering aloud why anyone in his right mind would give away his daughter to a complete stranger. He was so cute. Her only sister will definitely miss her. So will her mom, who has always been more of a friend to Donia. I miss her already, I'll always miss her, but I know that no matter what, I'll always have my best friend. And I know now that if I ever want to see her, all I need to do is get married. Piece of cake!
Hmmm.. Maybe not.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Destination: Cairo
This might be just about the fastest post I've ever written. I'm packed and all set to go. We should leave the house in 15 minutes insha'Allah, so it's tight. I was hoping to sit and write about the colorful mosaic of feelings I'm experiencing... breathtaking excitement, happiness, nostalgia, and a million things more..
I'm going to be the bride's best friend! That's major right? I'm gonna be delegated responsibilities and stuff:) yay! I feel so excited. I just got a message from Donia telling me she's more excited about my arrival than the actual wedding. Usually this is considered a friendly exaggeration, but in the case of Donia, she means every word of it. Man I can't believe we'll be together in a few hours' time. Can a heart literally burst into dance? Cuz mine is just about to:)
I'll be flying Egypt Air and I must say I am significantly worried. And that hilarious sound file some very thoughtful family members made sure I received had quite the effect. I was thrown on the floor laughing at first, but then the hourly panic attacks started. I hope you guys are happy now.
hehe
Just in case I don't make it back, here's a very very quick confession list (the actual list would take a day to finish):
Dalia: you did eat that Fosto2-spit-covered chicken breast. But hey, you're alive and functioning, so lets concentrate on the bright side, shall we?
Oh what do you know, that's the only thing troubling my conscience at the moment. Phew, feels great to get it over with.
I must get going. I won't be blogging for a couple of days, but I should be back on Saturday with a great deal to share:)
I'm going to be the bride's best friend! That's major right? I'm gonna be delegated responsibilities and stuff:) yay! I feel so excited. I just got a message from Donia telling me she's more excited about my arrival than the actual wedding. Usually this is considered a friendly exaggeration, but in the case of Donia, she means every word of it. Man I can't believe we'll be together in a few hours' time. Can a heart literally burst into dance? Cuz mine is just about to:)
I'll be flying Egypt Air and I must say I am significantly worried. And that hilarious sound file some very thoughtful family members made sure I received had quite the effect. I was thrown on the floor laughing at first, but then the hourly panic attacks started. I hope you guys are happy now.
hehe
Just in case I don't make it back, here's a very very quick confession list (the actual list would take a day to finish):
Dalia: you did eat that Fosto2-spit-covered chicken breast. But hey, you're alive and functioning, so lets concentrate on the bright side, shall we?
Oh what do you know, that's the only thing troubling my conscience at the moment. Phew, feels great to get it over with.
I must get going. I won't be blogging for a couple of days, but I should be back on Saturday with a great deal to share:)
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
And Go Nuts They Did!
I had promised a doughnut party for the winning groups from each class at the end of this semester. And today was delivery!
I provided doughnut boxes that read "Go Nuts" and they lived up to the name. The classroom was a wild wild show!
It took them exactly 2 seconds to burst the 30 or so balloons I (with the help of a couple of boys) had spent the entire morning blowing. You gotta give them credit, they are one heck of an efficient destructive force of nature.
I took a million photos of them eating, jumping, and posing with the goofiest grins. Some of the photos are hilarious and adorable. If I find time I'll upload them in an album and email the link to you guys. After all, you gotta meet Soud and Abdulaziz. Oh and I even caught a rare footage of Ahmed's "Bingo Dance". Still cracks me up.
It was wild I tell you. WILD. As if my classroom was suddenly taken over by a stampede of doughnut-craving tiny monsters:)
*sigh*.... I'm gonna miss them to bits. It's hard to imagine I won't be seeing them any longer.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
An Inconvenient Truth
I just returned from watching this documentary, along with Fatima. I have recently discovered, through Mark's blog, that the guys at Cinemagic have been hosting outdoor movie nights every Wednesday. They show award-winning independent films. This week they have started another Documentary night which will take place every Tuesday.
Today they played Al Gore's "An Inconvenient Truth", which illustrates every aspect of global warming in a way that leaves you speechless, awed, and ashamed. He provides irrefutable evidence that sweeps away the empty words of skeptics and those who just can't afford to care. If you've seen it, then you know what I'm talking about. If you haven't, then this should be at the top of your to-do list for this weekend. But we shouldn't just watch it, we should act upon it.
What struck me most is how extensive his knowledge base was, almost equating that of a seasoned scientist in the field. But then again he has travelled far and wide and met with scientists from all over the world for the last 30 years, rendering him an authority and a voice worth listening to in the matter.
Another thing I couldn't help notice was that he was clearly smart. Not that I know anything about politics, but in my own humble opinion, America would've been better off had he won the election. I doubt it would've affected us down at the middle east (except for the fact that he opposes wars from an environmental point of view. At least he does in his documentary.), but America could definitely do with a smart president, and if he walks his talk, then mother earth would've rejoiced as well.
It's definitely worth watching, and reflecting on and hopefully acting upon. Because it's real, and it's happening.
My favorite quote from the documentary has to be:
"It's difficult to make a man understand something when his salary depends on him not understanding it."
Scary truth, no?
Today they played Al Gore's "An Inconvenient Truth", which illustrates every aspect of global warming in a way that leaves you speechless, awed, and ashamed. He provides irrefutable evidence that sweeps away the empty words of skeptics and those who just can't afford to care. If you've seen it, then you know what I'm talking about. If you haven't, then this should be at the top of your to-do list for this weekend. But we shouldn't just watch it, we should act upon it.
What struck me most is how extensive his knowledge base was, almost equating that of a seasoned scientist in the field. But then again he has travelled far and wide and met with scientists from all over the world for the last 30 years, rendering him an authority and a voice worth listening to in the matter.
Another thing I couldn't help notice was that he was clearly smart. Not that I know anything about politics, but in my own humble opinion, America would've been better off had he won the election. I doubt it would've affected us down at the middle east (except for the fact that he opposes wars from an environmental point of view. At least he does in his documentary.), but America could definitely do with a smart president, and if he walks his talk, then mother earth would've rejoiced as well.
It's definitely worth watching, and reflecting on and hopefully acting upon. Because it's real, and it's happening.
My favorite quote from the documentary has to be:
"It's difficult to make a man understand something when his salary depends on him not understanding it."
Scary truth, no?
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Have you seen a lo2tah?
Here's a random piece of information about me for you to ponder: I often find myself in need to use public bathrooms. "Often" here meaning all the time. I don't enjoy it, but you can't exactly be picky when you're out of the house 8 hours straight and have a kidney system of questionable quality. But that's a story for another post, or better yet should be left for the imaginary book I plan to write someday, with its catchy title: "My Search For A Bathroom". It's basically a book where I record my observations and surprisingly interesting and useful skills I've acquired from constant use of public bathrooms. I am quite the authority really, having developed my own personal grading system and able to recommend the best public bathrooms in most parts of town should you ever be in the situation where mother nature is hollering at you.
One golden rule for me is: minimum exposure. You have to be efficient. There's no need to spend a second more than the time you actually need in a bathroom. There's icky, then there's more icky. The more you spend in the bathroom, the higher the risk of ickiness rubbing off on you.
Having said that, you can imagine my stand on "public bathroom socializing". Now it's one thing to engage in friendly conversation a bit with your girlfriends as you hurriedly wash your hands and/or gawk at the mirror after discovering that you've been prancing around for the last hour with chocolate milkshake smothered on your forehead. That's okay. But to actually stand there, or worse, lean against the sink for support as you discuss a millions things, as cozily as if you were in a sleepover, is just a big no no.
Similarly, public bathrooms are not places to make friends. You can nod and even smile at the lady who just walked in if you feel you must, but don't go and ask about her life story. Just don't. At least not when I'm that stranger.
I was washing my hands, you know minding my own business, checking if I was adorned with any markers on any of my visible body parts. This teacher walked in and I smiled. I knew she was a teacher in our school, I often walk past her in the corridors, but that was the extent of my knowledge. And as far as I was concerned, at least for the time being, it should stay at that.
Maybe not.
nameless teacher: So you're a teacher this year?
Me: yep (I figured I'll stick to 3 lettered words and body gestures as long as I can help it)
She: You were an assistant last year?
Me: uh-huh
She: So did you get engaged?
Okaaaaaaaaay. I definitely did not see that coming. As if bathroom conversations were not uncomfortable for me already. But before I could figure out how to respond, she beat me to it. Probably as a response to the look on my face.
She: I'm sorry, I know people must ask you that a lot and it's annoying, I know.
Hmmm. For some reason instead of thinking how rude and nosey she was (as I would normally do), I found myself thinking that she was pretty sweet. The fact that she acknowledged that her remark was annoying made me feel less annoyed, for some weird reason. So I said what the heck be nice, even if you're in the bathroom.
Me: Umm, actually no. But I don't want to right now anyway, I'm going to finish my studies. (I beamed. I couldn't hide my excitement).
She: Oh I see, Allah iywaf2ek. But habibti, you are like my daughter and if you find "3arees lo2tah" (a guy who's quite a catch) then you should definitely go for it. Take it from me.
Me (amused): umm, I'll remember that. But I really want to get my masters. So I'll worry about Mr. lo2tah after that, iza Allah kateb.
That seemed to satisfy her and we moved on to more general issues. By then I had resigned to the fact that I was in lengthly public bathroom chit-chat and even leaned against the sink. At one point, I even asked about her name. She's Ms. Bushra.
As I walked out of the bathroom, I couldn't help but reflect with amusement on the term "3arees lo2tah". This must be the most overused term in the marriage industry (and yes it is an industry). I must've heard it being used a million times, yet I never actually stopped to ponder it. What exactly is a "lo2tah"? I never asked. I guess I figured, once you have to choose, you'll know how to find the lo2tah. I guess I was under the assumption that a 3arees lo2tah can be spotted a mile away, like a guy wearing a bright pink T-shirt in the mall (one could argue that singling out a guy who's wearing pink is no longer a picnic, considering that half the male population here are now proud owners of bubble gum pink shirts. What's up with that????)
But now I'm twenty something, and I must admit that I am not entirely sure as to what qualifies a 3arees as lo2tah. What elevates him from a "just another potential husband" to a "can't-be-turned-down lo2tah". And should I assume that all those girls getting married have successfully pinned down a lo2tah?
I thus plead to you kind people of the blogging world to please share any insights you might have on this matter. What is a "lo2tah" to you? Did you ever have a real life encounter with a lo2tah? what is the opposite of a lo2tah? Is there a reference point for a lo2tah? (George clooney maybe?). And does a lo2tah guy know that he is a lo2tah? And most importantly, what happens if you do turn down a lo2tah? What are your changes of running into another lo2tah?
Okay I'll admit to the fact that I am putting forth those questions mainly for my sheer amusement. But lets not forget that I was advised to put my life on hold should I run into a lo2tah. For that reason, I should at least have a clear idea what a lo2tah is. I mean, what if I give up my life for a lo2tah-wannabe? That can't be good.
One week into marriage: HA gotcha. I'm not a real lo2tah!
What? It could happen.
One golden rule for me is: minimum exposure. You have to be efficient. There's no need to spend a second more than the time you actually need in a bathroom. There's icky, then there's more icky. The more you spend in the bathroom, the higher the risk of ickiness rubbing off on you.
Having said that, you can imagine my stand on "public bathroom socializing". Now it's one thing to engage in friendly conversation a bit with your girlfriends as you hurriedly wash your hands and/or gawk at the mirror after discovering that you've been prancing around for the last hour with chocolate milkshake smothered on your forehead. That's okay. But to actually stand there, or worse, lean against the sink for support as you discuss a millions things, as cozily as if you were in a sleepover, is just a big no no.
Similarly, public bathrooms are not places to make friends. You can nod and even smile at the lady who just walked in if you feel you must, but don't go and ask about her life story. Just don't. At least not when I'm that stranger.
I was washing my hands, you know minding my own business, checking if I was adorned with any markers on any of my visible body parts. This teacher walked in and I smiled. I knew she was a teacher in our school, I often walk past her in the corridors, but that was the extent of my knowledge. And as far as I was concerned, at least for the time being, it should stay at that.
Maybe not.
nameless teacher: So you're a teacher this year?
Me: yep (I figured I'll stick to 3 lettered words and body gestures as long as I can help it)
She: You were an assistant last year?
Me: uh-huh
She: So did you get engaged?
Okaaaaaaaaay. I definitely did not see that coming. As if bathroom conversations were not uncomfortable for me already. But before I could figure out how to respond, she beat me to it. Probably as a response to the look on my face.
She: I'm sorry, I know people must ask you that a lot and it's annoying, I know.
Hmmm. For some reason instead of thinking how rude and nosey she was (as I would normally do), I found myself thinking that she was pretty sweet. The fact that she acknowledged that her remark was annoying made me feel less annoyed, for some weird reason. So I said what the heck be nice, even if you're in the bathroom.
Me: Umm, actually no. But I don't want to right now anyway, I'm going to finish my studies. (I beamed. I couldn't hide my excitement).
She: Oh I see, Allah iywaf2ek. But habibti, you are like my daughter and if you find "3arees lo2tah" (a guy who's quite a catch) then you should definitely go for it. Take it from me.
Me (amused): umm, I'll remember that. But I really want to get my masters. So I'll worry about Mr. lo2tah after that, iza Allah kateb.
That seemed to satisfy her and we moved on to more general issues. By then I had resigned to the fact that I was in lengthly public bathroom chit-chat and even leaned against the sink. At one point, I even asked about her name. She's Ms. Bushra.
As I walked out of the bathroom, I couldn't help but reflect with amusement on the term "3arees lo2tah". This must be the most overused term in the marriage industry (and yes it is an industry). I must've heard it being used a million times, yet I never actually stopped to ponder it. What exactly is a "lo2tah"? I never asked. I guess I figured, once you have to choose, you'll know how to find the lo2tah. I guess I was under the assumption that a 3arees lo2tah can be spotted a mile away, like a guy wearing a bright pink T-shirt in the mall (one could argue that singling out a guy who's wearing pink is no longer a picnic, considering that half the male population here are now proud owners of bubble gum pink shirts. What's up with that????)
But now I'm twenty something, and I must admit that I am not entirely sure as to what qualifies a 3arees as lo2tah. What elevates him from a "just another potential husband" to a "can't-be-turned-down lo2tah". And should I assume that all those girls getting married have successfully pinned down a lo2tah?
I thus plead to you kind people of the blogging world to please share any insights you might have on this matter. What is a "lo2tah" to you? Did you ever have a real life encounter with a lo2tah? what is the opposite of a lo2tah? Is there a reference point for a lo2tah? (George clooney maybe?). And does a lo2tah guy know that he is a lo2tah? And most importantly, what happens if you do turn down a lo2tah? What are your changes of running into another lo2tah?
Okay I'll admit to the fact that I am putting forth those questions mainly for my sheer amusement. But lets not forget that I was advised to put my life on hold should I run into a lo2tah. For that reason, I should at least have a clear idea what a lo2tah is. I mean, what if I give up my life for a lo2tah-wannabe? That can't be good.
One week into marriage: HA gotcha. I'm not a real lo2tah!
What? It could happen.
Leftover pizza tastes better
I'm enjoying a breakfast of left-over pizza as I type this post. This has college days written all over it. That and kitkat bars for lunch. Can you tell I'm looking forward to being a student again? Two years of being partly responsible (and held accountable) for how the next generation turns out to be, is a lot of responsibility. I'm welcoming the short break. For a year at least, my greatest worry would be scoring an A in a course and turning in a legible research paper. Oh yeah.
That is not to say I'll be completely cut off from kids. During my spring semester insha'Allah I'd have practical training in US elementary schools. But even before that, I'm sure I'll get myself involved in something that involves kids. I can't stay away too long. Who else will readily giggle at whatever silly thing I say or do?
Life is funny. I don't remember a single instance during my childhood, teens and even college years where I declared I wanted to be a teacher when asked what I wanted to do with my life. That is to say something since I was one to pride having a "vision" of what I wanted to with the rest of my life. In fact I remember cringing a few times when the word teacher came up in conversation.
Yet now I can't imagine being something else (except working with National Geographic and Greenpeace, which remains to be my ultimate dream, but that could be my retirement plan, no?). As a kid I remember promising my mom that once I work with National Geographic and I'm in a show that's broadcasted, I'd wave to her with a huge cheesy grin and say "Hiii mama". I realise it's a silly childish promise, but I'm not one to forget my promises, even if it compromises my "prestige". Hmm, as a kid I also remember promising to get my dad a white convertible. Look at me giving promises here and there, how precious is that? I must've been one sweet kid, who had enormous dreams for herself. That or a kid who was seriously deluded, depends how you look at it. So mom and dad, I hope you're not holding your breaths, because it might be quite a bit of time before delivery, if you know what I mean.
This is one of the posts where I write for the sole reason of having felt like writing. I don't necessarily have something of substance to share . But one can ask "When do you really?", which is quite a valid question. But it makes me happy. Writing does.. So that's reason enough for me!
That is not to say I'll be completely cut off from kids. During my spring semester insha'Allah I'd have practical training in US elementary schools. But even before that, I'm sure I'll get myself involved in something that involves kids. I can't stay away too long. Who else will readily giggle at whatever silly thing I say or do?
Life is funny. I don't remember a single instance during my childhood, teens and even college years where I declared I wanted to be a teacher when asked what I wanted to do with my life. That is to say something since I was one to pride having a "vision" of what I wanted to with the rest of my life. In fact I remember cringing a few times when the word teacher came up in conversation.
Yet now I can't imagine being something else (except working with National Geographic and Greenpeace, which remains to be my ultimate dream, but that could be my retirement plan, no?). As a kid I remember promising my mom that once I work with National Geographic and I'm in a show that's broadcasted, I'd wave to her with a huge cheesy grin and say "Hiii mama". I realise it's a silly childish promise, but I'm not one to forget my promises, even if it compromises my "prestige". Hmm, as a kid I also remember promising to get my dad a white convertible. Look at me giving promises here and there, how precious is that? I must've been one sweet kid, who had enormous dreams for herself. That or a kid who was seriously deluded, depends how you look at it. So mom and dad, I hope you're not holding your breaths, because it might be quite a bit of time before delivery, if you know what I mean.
This is one of the posts where I write for the sole reason of having felt like writing. I don't necessarily have something of substance to share . But one can ask "When do you really?", which is quite a valid question. But it makes me happy. Writing does.. So that's reason enough for me!
Friday, May 18, 2007
Dust Topping
Yesterday morning, I looked out of the window and gasped. I could not see even half a meter ahead. I hoped, prayed, pleaded for it to be fog. But I knew I was kidding myself. It was dust. It was serious merciless dust. The entire country had an extra layer of thick dust on top. Driving was dangerous and flights were cancelled.
As one south-African I recently met put it: "I sent a text to my family telling them how dusty it was. They said they know. I told them they CANNOT POSSIBLY KNOW. The amount of dust I found on my car this morning would roughly equal that which I would find after leaving my car unwashed in the garage for five years. Here, all it took was one night!".
I gulped down every allergy pill I could get my hands on and knew that the wisest decision would be to stay at home today. I ended up spending 90% of the time outside running errands. I was eventually covered with my own thick layer of dust. I'd shower but then I fear it'll turn into mud. It'll be more of a mud bath. But wait, don't they offer that in spas? I'll get it for free. Sweet.
I did a lot of ticket purchasing yesterday and I am significantly poorer. Particularly because of the cross-Atlantic ticket.
Speaking of cross-Atlantic continents, I guess I can share my news now! I've gotten my visa il hamdillah and ticket, so Insha'Allah I'm all set. I'll be starting my master's program next year Insha'Allah in Boston University. It's master's of education in Elementary Education. It's a one year program. I'm very excited, and terrified at the same time. But a good kind of terrified. I'm eager to obtain a strong basis in education since my bachelor is in science (well biology). There is so much to learn and I can't wait. I'm sure there's a more dignified way of controlling kids like Abdulaziz that doesn't involve chasing them around the classroom, and I'm hoping I'll learn about that:) hehe
My program starts this summer (june 25th), and I'm leaving Kuwait on the 22nd, insha'Allah. Last day of school for me here is the 19th, which I guess will be my blog's last day:)
But fear not crazy commenters (that would be Dalia and khokha) I will be starting a new blog, to share and record my bostonian experiences. And I'll be counting on your amusing, but not necessarily sane, comments to keep me chuckling!
It's a new day today, but the dust hasn't budged. It's fascinating to observe really. Of course if you're not preoccupied by fits of sneezes, nursing a burning nose and throat and a clogged windpipe.
Kuwait is in need of some serious dust sweeping.
As one south-African I recently met put it: "I sent a text to my family telling them how dusty it was. They said they know. I told them they CANNOT POSSIBLY KNOW. The amount of dust I found on my car this morning would roughly equal that which I would find after leaving my car unwashed in the garage for five years. Here, all it took was one night!".
I gulped down every allergy pill I could get my hands on and knew that the wisest decision would be to stay at home today. I ended up spending 90% of the time outside running errands. I was eventually covered with my own thick layer of dust. I'd shower but then I fear it'll turn into mud. It'll be more of a mud bath. But wait, don't they offer that in spas? I'll get it for free. Sweet.
I did a lot of ticket purchasing yesterday and I am significantly poorer. Particularly because of the cross-Atlantic ticket.
Speaking of cross-Atlantic continents, I guess I can share my news now! I've gotten my visa il hamdillah and ticket, so Insha'Allah I'm all set. I'll be starting my master's program next year Insha'Allah in Boston University. It's master's of education in Elementary Education. It's a one year program. I'm very excited, and terrified at the same time. But a good kind of terrified. I'm eager to obtain a strong basis in education since my bachelor is in science (well biology). There is so much to learn and I can't wait. I'm sure there's a more dignified way of controlling kids like Abdulaziz that doesn't involve chasing them around the classroom, and I'm hoping I'll learn about that:) hehe
My program starts this summer (june 25th), and I'm leaving Kuwait on the 22nd, insha'Allah. Last day of school for me here is the 19th, which I guess will be my blog's last day:)
But fear not crazy commenters (that would be Dalia and khokha) I will be starting a new blog, to share and record my bostonian experiences. And I'll be counting on your amusing, but not necessarily sane, comments to keep me chuckling!
It's a new day today, but the dust hasn't budged. It's fascinating to observe really. Of course if you're not preoccupied by fits of sneezes, nursing a burning nose and throat and a clogged windpipe.
Kuwait is in need of some serious dust sweeping.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
A Kitcheny Gift
I needed to figure out what to get Donia as a gift. I needed something different, no too bulky to fly with me and something she'd constantly use and remember me when she does! You know, something personal. And no, not that personal.
I went to mom for help, I knew I could count on her fresh and creative ideas. She did not disappoint.
Mom: Mariam come here for a sec.
Me: na3am mama
Mom: I think I got an idea for Donia's gift. You said you wanted something funny, so I was thinking..
Me: oh oh oh I know I know, TOILET PAPER? :D
You should have seen the look she gave me.
Me: Oops. My bad. I mistook you for dalia. It's, um, a private joke. Kindly ignore.
Mom (recovering): Why don't you get her a cookbook! And cute mitts and apron!
I loved the idea. Just what I had in mind. I know for a fact that Donia could definitely use a cookbook. I still laugh when I remember her adventures with her dad in the kitchen when her mom travelled one time. Or back when she visited me 2 years ago. She asked me to teach her my chocolate chip cookies. I thought it would be best to teach her "hands on". So I got all the ingredients and we both spent 2 hours in the kitchen, not because the cookies take that much, but because when we're together it does. She wrote every single thing I did and helped me all through.
Throughout the experience, we even created our own reality TV show called "Otbokh witgawwiz"- basically a fictitious show that takes place in a kitchen and each episode the show host would invite a marriageable girl. This girl has 30 minutes to demonstrate her cooking skills to land herself a husband. Isn't that idea gold? Definitely better than The Bachelorette. Pity no one takes me and Donia seriously. Cuz this could work. I have seen far worst reality shows (not that I watch them, it is against my principals:P) that had audiences flocking like flies on a piece of candy.
But we only did that pilot episode. I don't remember laughing as hard anytime in my life. Here's an excerpt to help you visualise the sanity level (or lack of it thereof):
"wi dilwa2ti bin7ot il sokkar il abyad 3ashan ana 3ayza il 3arees abyad. Ou kaman bin7ot sokkar bonni 3ashan law kan asmar, ma fish mashakel kaman"
Man. Good days, good days. On a second thought, I am glad no one takes us seriously.
Anyway, back to the cookie recipe. So she writes everything down and I am proud of my new promising student. A month later she sends me an email telling me that she tried the recipe but there was a little problem. Okay a big problem. Okay two big problems.
She first forgot to leave space between the cookies on the cookie sheet (allowing space to grow larger when baked), instead placing them directly next to each other. And she over baked them. Big time.
So instead of having individually chewy cookies. She had one huge hard "cookie" of an inedible nature. She of course had to dispose of it. I'm fine with all that. My problem is that when her family complained about the outcome, she didn't own up to it. Instead she faked a puzzled look and said "hmmm... into mish 7ataklooh? ghareebah. Di mariam bti3malo kida bil zabt ou kol il nas byaklooh 3indaha".
Definitely needs a cook book. And a brand new CONSCIENCE to go with it. How dare she smudge my glowing cookie baking reputation. Crazy woman.
And that is how I ended up spending this morning looking for cook books and kitchen stuff. I began with the library and I stumbled upon this book. I was first drawn to the fact that the chef sounded like he was Egyptian, and also because I found him to vaguely resemble my other friend's husband. So I felt like I knew him and could trust his culinary skills (not that my friend's husband cooks or anything! But whatever).
Of course had I been a viewer of TV in general and Arabic satellite channels in particular I would've no doubt have seen his cooking shows and recognized his book. But I didn't. I bought the book purely for the above two reasons. He looked like a nice person and he was Egyptian.
Turns out Chef Osama El Sayed, is adored by millions, not least of which are Egyptians themselves. I was informed so through a phone call with my other Egyptian friend, Samar. I then googled him and turns out it's true. Hey he even cooked for Bill Clinton. Oh and doesn't seem like the type that would mess up his friend's cookie recipe and blame it on his friend. Maybe he'll be good influence.
I still haven't had much success with the apron and mitts, I need them to be cute. I'll try The One store tomorrow maybe, I love their stuff.
Hopefully she'll like her gifts:) They're no toilet paper, but I don't think she's ready for that just yet. Besides, getting her a cookbook and apron would surely ensure me a spot in her husband's good books. Or completely write me off after she "experiments" with the book and blames the outcome on me, the gift provider. Yikes.
I went to mom for help, I knew I could count on her fresh and creative ideas. She did not disappoint.
Mom: Mariam come here for a sec.
Me: na3am mama
Mom: I think I got an idea for Donia's gift. You said you wanted something funny, so I was thinking..
Me: oh oh oh I know I know, TOILET PAPER? :D
You should have seen the look she gave me.
Me: Oops. My bad. I mistook you for dalia. It's, um, a private joke. Kindly ignore.
Mom (recovering): Why don't you get her a cookbook! And cute mitts and apron!
I loved the idea. Just what I had in mind. I know for a fact that Donia could definitely use a cookbook. I still laugh when I remember her adventures with her dad in the kitchen when her mom travelled one time. Or back when she visited me 2 years ago. She asked me to teach her my chocolate chip cookies. I thought it would be best to teach her "hands on". So I got all the ingredients and we both spent 2 hours in the kitchen, not because the cookies take that much, but because when we're together it does. She wrote every single thing I did and helped me all through.
Throughout the experience, we even created our own reality TV show called "Otbokh witgawwiz"- basically a fictitious show that takes place in a kitchen and each episode the show host would invite a marriageable girl. This girl has 30 minutes to demonstrate her cooking skills to land herself a husband. Isn't that idea gold? Definitely better than The Bachelorette. Pity no one takes me and Donia seriously. Cuz this could work. I have seen far worst reality shows (not that I watch them, it is against my principals:P) that had audiences flocking like flies on a piece of candy.
But we only did that pilot episode. I don't remember laughing as hard anytime in my life. Here's an excerpt to help you visualise the sanity level (or lack of it thereof):
"wi dilwa2ti bin7ot il sokkar il abyad 3ashan ana 3ayza il 3arees abyad. Ou kaman bin7ot sokkar bonni 3ashan law kan asmar, ma fish mashakel kaman"
Man. Good days, good days. On a second thought, I am glad no one takes us seriously.
Anyway, back to the cookie recipe. So she writes everything down and I am proud of my new promising student. A month later she sends me an email telling me that she tried the recipe but there was a little problem. Okay a big problem. Okay two big problems.
She first forgot to leave space between the cookies on the cookie sheet (allowing space to grow larger when baked), instead placing them directly next to each other. And she over baked them. Big time.
So instead of having individually chewy cookies. She had one huge hard "cookie" of an inedible nature. She of course had to dispose of it. I'm fine with all that. My problem is that when her family complained about the outcome, she didn't own up to it. Instead she faked a puzzled look and said "hmmm... into mish 7ataklooh? ghareebah. Di mariam bti3malo kida bil zabt ou kol il nas byaklooh 3indaha".
Definitely needs a cook book. And a brand new CONSCIENCE to go with it. How dare she smudge my glowing cookie baking reputation. Crazy woman.
And that is how I ended up spending this morning looking for cook books and kitchen stuff. I began with the library and I stumbled upon this book. I was first drawn to the fact that the chef sounded like he was Egyptian, and also because I found him to vaguely resemble my other friend's husband. So I felt like I knew him and could trust his culinary skills (not that my friend's husband cooks or anything! But whatever).
Of course had I been a viewer of TV in general and Arabic satellite channels in particular I would've no doubt have seen his cooking shows and recognized his book. But I didn't. I bought the book purely for the above two reasons. He looked like a nice person and he was Egyptian.
Turns out Chef Osama El Sayed, is adored by millions, not least of which are Egyptians themselves. I was informed so through a phone call with my other Egyptian friend, Samar. I then googled him and turns out it's true. Hey he even cooked for Bill Clinton. Oh and doesn't seem like the type that would mess up his friend's cookie recipe and blame it on his friend. Maybe he'll be good influence.
I still haven't had much success with the apron and mitts, I need them to be cute. I'll try The One store tomorrow maybe, I love their stuff.
Hopefully she'll like her gifts:) They're no toilet paper, but I don't think she's ready for that just yet. Besides, getting her a cookbook and apron would surely ensure me a spot in her husband's good books. Or completely write me off after she "experiments" with the book and blames the outcome on me, the gift provider. Yikes.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
CAIRO BABY
Sis: So what will you be wearing to Donia's wedding? I assume no heels?
Me: YA LAHWI I'M GOING TO DONIA'S WEDDING.
Yep. It's official insha'Allah. I've booked my ticket at the end, il hamdillah (special thank yous are due to my awesome dad, auntie and sister! You guys are my favorite people in the whole universe!). Although I have serious suspicions that Egypt Air might just as well be the worst airline on earth? (I mean if their aircraft is anything like their office.... yikes. Bio hazard. Engines call it a day midway.) I voiced my concerns to dad and he very kindly assured me that, well, it is. Gee, thanks dad. hehehehe
But Kuwait Airways' ticket is ridiculously expensive in comparison, and seeing that I am a teacher on a budget, I couldn't afford to be picky!
I'll be arriving insha'Allah on Thursday afternoon and returning Saturday morning. I am SO excited. I'm going to actually see Donia!!!! THAT IS SO COOL. My heart is so full of happiness it might just burst:) Alhamdulillah.
but seriously..
YA LAHWI I'M GOING TO EGYPT.
YA LAHWI I'M SEEING DONIA.
YA LAHWI DONIA IS GETTING MARRIED.
I call this the "ya lahwi syndrome", I only get it whenever Donia is involved:)
Wow.. It's just so amazing. I hear about people getting married all the time, but it's just a totally different feeling when it's your best friend. I'm SO happy for her. May Allah bless them both:)
Seeing that she is so capricious, I had to double check with her. I wasn't going to venture into that Egypt Aircraft unless I absolutely needed to.
(through a text message)
Me: dandoun, I just finished my reservation. YA LAHWI I'M SO HAPPY. akeeeeeed 3orsek il jmo3a 25th? YA LAHWI ra7 titzawwaji! mish adreh asadde2:D
D: mariooooom ana 7amot min il far7a. YA LAHWI. aywa khalas oltillek sadda2eeni 7atgawwiz insha'Allah. ANA MISH MISADDA2A innik gayya, ana 7asib Ahmed wala a3abbaro bas teegi. 3ala fikra Ahmad byikrahek. YA LAHWI 7ATGAWWIZ. yallah ta3ali!!
This girl cracks me up.
Me: YA LAHWI I'M GOING TO DONIA'S WEDDING.
Yep. It's official insha'Allah. I've booked my ticket at the end, il hamdillah (special thank yous are due to my awesome dad, auntie and sister! You guys are my favorite people in the whole universe!). Although I have serious suspicions that Egypt Air might just as well be the worst airline on earth? (I mean if their aircraft is anything like their office.... yikes. Bio hazard. Engines call it a day midway.) I voiced my concerns to dad and he very kindly assured me that, well, it is. Gee, thanks dad. hehehehe
But Kuwait Airways' ticket is ridiculously expensive in comparison, and seeing that I am a teacher on a budget, I couldn't afford to be picky!
I'll be arriving insha'Allah on Thursday afternoon and returning Saturday morning. I am SO excited. I'm going to actually see Donia!!!! THAT IS SO COOL. My heart is so full of happiness it might just burst:) Alhamdulillah.
but seriously..
YA LAHWI I'M GOING TO EGYPT.
YA LAHWI I'M SEEING DONIA.
YA LAHWI DONIA IS GETTING MARRIED.
I call this the "ya lahwi syndrome", I only get it whenever Donia is involved:)
Wow.. It's just so amazing. I hear about people getting married all the time, but it's just a totally different feeling when it's your best friend. I'm SO happy for her. May Allah bless them both:)
Seeing that she is so capricious, I had to double check with her. I wasn't going to venture into that Egypt Aircraft unless I absolutely needed to.
(through a text message)
Me: dandoun, I just finished my reservation. YA LAHWI I'M SO HAPPY. akeeeeeed 3orsek il jmo3a 25th? YA LAHWI ra7 titzawwaji! mish adreh asadde2:D
D: mariooooom ana 7amot min il far7a. YA LAHWI. aywa khalas oltillek sadda2eeni 7atgawwiz insha'Allah. ANA MISH MISADDA2A innik gayya, ana 7asib Ahmed wala a3abbaro bas teegi. 3ala fikra Ahmad byikrahek. YA LAHWI 7ATGAWWIZ. yallah ta3ali!!
This girl cracks me up.
I hate Egypt Air
I've been on hold, SINCE YESTERDAY. And I'm not even joking.
The voice of that lady telling me to "please hold" and promising that I will be served soon now makes me wanna kill someone. Preferably her.
On a positive note, I have acquired a new skill. I have now learnt to do everything from typing my lesson plans to brushing my teeth and preparing my latte with a phone on my ear. Granted, my neck has frozen into a permanent tilt no doubt due to a muscle spasm. Not particularly a good thing.
At one point, I became completely oblivious to the presence of the phone, as if it was just another dangling body part. Had anyone at the other end actually started talking to me I would've honestly been startled and probably would've gone blank. But now I know I didn't have to worry about that happening, because they don't seem to have plans of putting my call through anytime this century (yes I am still on hold).
Back to sulking. I need to get in touch with them to get the exact location of their office. I tried finding yesterday based on some "oh I think I saw it there"s and it didn't go well. In fact, it didn't go well AT ALL. Seriously though, how is it humanely possible to have their lines permanently busy even when I call after hours? (Yep, tried that as well). Something smells fishy around here.
And you know what the worst part is? Here I am being all grumpy and yet I cannot entirely enjoy the experience of venting out. Because today as I went up to the middle and high school sections to attend their international day, I happened upon a poster done by the girls quoting Mrs. Nusaiba Al Mutta' (founder of the school and it's philosophy). They drew a girl scrutinizing a zit in front of the mirror.
Underneath it was Mrs. Mutawa's quote:
"It is a sign of great stupidity to ignore all the blessings we enjoy and concentrate on that one single negativity".
Alright alright, I'll stop it. God knows that, even with a temporarily tilted neck, I have so much to be thankful for. Infinitely much.
And I don't particularly enjoy being referred to as stupid. So at least for now, we're putting the stupidity "on hold". Lets hope that I'm as efficient as Egypt Air are in keeping stuff on hold:)
The voice of that lady telling me to "please hold" and promising that I will be served soon now makes me wanna kill someone. Preferably her.
On a positive note, I have acquired a new skill. I have now learnt to do everything from typing my lesson plans to brushing my teeth and preparing my latte with a phone on my ear. Granted, my neck has frozen into a permanent tilt no doubt due to a muscle spasm. Not particularly a good thing.
At one point, I became completely oblivious to the presence of the phone, as if it was just another dangling body part. Had anyone at the other end actually started talking to me I would've honestly been startled and probably would've gone blank. But now I know I didn't have to worry about that happening, because they don't seem to have plans of putting my call through anytime this century (yes I am still on hold).
Back to sulking. I need to get in touch with them to get the exact location of their office. I tried finding yesterday based on some "oh I think I saw it there"s and it didn't go well. In fact, it didn't go well AT ALL. Seriously though, how is it humanely possible to have their lines permanently busy even when I call after hours? (Yep, tried that as well). Something smells fishy around here.
And you know what the worst part is? Here I am being all grumpy and yet I cannot entirely enjoy the experience of venting out. Because today as I went up to the middle and high school sections to attend their international day, I happened upon a poster done by the girls quoting Mrs. Nusaiba Al Mutta' (founder of the school and it's philosophy). They drew a girl scrutinizing a zit in front of the mirror.
Underneath it was Mrs. Mutawa's quote:
"It is a sign of great stupidity to ignore all the blessings we enjoy and concentrate on that one single negativity".
Alright alright, I'll stop it. God knows that, even with a temporarily tilted neck, I have so much to be thankful for. Infinitely much.
And I don't particularly enjoy being referred to as stupid. So at least for now, we're putting the stupidity "on hold". Lets hope that I'm as efficient as Egypt Air are in keeping stuff on hold:)
Monday, May 14, 2007
Bride's best friend in a pickle
I usually just ignore any phonecalls and messages I receive after 10 pm. The reason being that I'm usually fast asleep then and even if I do talk to you or read your messages, chances are I will completely have forgotten about it by the next morning. So what's the point right?
It was just shy of 11 pm. yesterday and I was positively exhausted as I untucked my bedsheets, fluffed my pillow and was getting ready to snuggle in bed. My mobile started ringing, but I didn't plan on answering. It'll just rob the sleepiness out of my eyes. I did however take a peek to see who was calling and was faced with a +2 international code, which means it's coming from Egypt. Which means it's Donia. Which means I was most definitely going to take it. Normal rules do not apply to Donia:) This was going to rob me of sleep alright, but it would surely be worth it.
Me: DANDOUUUUUUUUUUN!!!!
D: MARIOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM.
M: KEEFEK?????
D: ana 7atgawwiz ba3d osbo3ain
Me: BTITKHAWWATI? walek 7akaitek abel osboo3 ou olteeli wala 7atta 3al saif akeed!!!
D: aywa bas khalas 7atgawwiz ba3d osbo3ain. Ana iktashaft imbare7
Me: YA LAWHI 7atitjazzawi ba3d osbo3ain!!!!
D: YA LAHWI 7ATGAWWIZ BA3D OSBO3AIN.
Me: 7abeeeeeeeeeebet albi kteeer mabsotalek! Tab shoo 3milti? 3indek fostan?
D: la2
Me: ba3atti kroot?
D: la2 asslo inti awwal wa7da ba2olha. ana ma 3miltesh 7aga bas 7agazt fi otel il naharda.
Me: YA LAHWI 7ATITJAWWAZI BA3D OSBO3AIN
D: YA LAHWI 7ATGAWWIZ BA3D OSBO3AIN
That went on for a while, until the calling card was done.
OH MY GOD. This girl is insane! Of all the things that you can't see coming, YOUR WEDDING DATE shouldn't be one of them. How can she have accidentally "discovered" that her wedding is in 2 weeks a day ago? Man that is SO Donia. I just love that girl.
Her wedding is on Friday the 25th of this month, and I SO WANNA GO. But I'm not sure I'll be able to, I'd still have school then. It is too soon. Man.
Yeah yeah I know I was grunting on about weddings a few posts back, and I still despise weddings but that is DONIA'S wedding at stake! I can't miss that. I have to be with her the night before going "YA LAHWI YOU'RE GETTING MARRIED" every 2 seconds. I didn't even meet her husband-to-be, surely I need to approve of him. Okay maybe not, but that's not the point.
I'm sure things are going to change after she gets married. I doubt we'll be able to keep up our every-other-year reunions. I realise that things will change although I'm not sure exactly how much since she is my first friend that I marry off. But I know that with the exception of my mother and sister there is NO one I would need around on my wedding more than Donia. And so I need to be with her on her wedding too.
Me wants to go to Egypt. Someone please come take over my classes for me. Please? Pretty please? You can have the entire contents of the next Godiva box I receive. Yep, it's that important to me. As I always say, you know it's important when chocolates are at stake:)
It was just shy of 11 pm. yesterday and I was positively exhausted as I untucked my bedsheets, fluffed my pillow and was getting ready to snuggle in bed. My mobile started ringing, but I didn't plan on answering. It'll just rob the sleepiness out of my eyes. I did however take a peek to see who was calling and was faced with a +2 international code, which means it's coming from Egypt. Which means it's Donia. Which means I was most definitely going to take it. Normal rules do not apply to Donia:) This was going to rob me of sleep alright, but it would surely be worth it.
Me: DANDOUUUUUUUUUUN!!!!
D: MARIOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM.
M: KEEFEK?????
D: ana 7atgawwiz ba3d osbo3ain
Me: BTITKHAWWATI? walek 7akaitek abel osboo3 ou olteeli wala 7atta 3al saif akeed!!!
D: aywa bas khalas 7atgawwiz ba3d osbo3ain. Ana iktashaft imbare7
Me: YA LAWHI 7atitjazzawi ba3d osbo3ain!!!!
D: YA LAHWI 7ATGAWWIZ BA3D OSBO3AIN.
Me: 7abeeeeeeeeeebet albi kteeer mabsotalek! Tab shoo 3milti? 3indek fostan?
D: la2
Me: ba3atti kroot?
D: la2 asslo inti awwal wa7da ba2olha. ana ma 3miltesh 7aga bas 7agazt fi otel il naharda.
Me: YA LAHWI 7ATITJAWWAZI BA3D OSBO3AIN
D: YA LAHWI 7ATGAWWIZ BA3D OSBO3AIN
That went on for a while, until the calling card was done.
OH MY GOD. This girl is insane! Of all the things that you can't see coming, YOUR WEDDING DATE shouldn't be one of them. How can she have accidentally "discovered" that her wedding is in 2 weeks a day ago? Man that is SO Donia. I just love that girl.
Her wedding is on Friday the 25th of this month, and I SO WANNA GO. But I'm not sure I'll be able to, I'd still have school then. It is too soon. Man.
Yeah yeah I know I was grunting on about weddings a few posts back, and I still despise weddings but that is DONIA'S wedding at stake! I can't miss that. I have to be with her the night before going "YA LAHWI YOU'RE GETTING MARRIED" every 2 seconds. I didn't even meet her husband-to-be, surely I need to approve of him. Okay maybe not, but that's not the point.
I'm sure things are going to change after she gets married. I doubt we'll be able to keep up our every-other-year reunions. I realise that things will change although I'm not sure exactly how much since she is my first friend that I marry off. But I know that with the exception of my mother and sister there is NO one I would need around on my wedding more than Donia. And so I need to be with her on her wedding too.
Me wants to go to Egypt. Someone please come take over my classes for me. Please? Pretty please? You can have the entire contents of the next Godiva box I receive. Yep, it's that important to me. As I always say, you know it's important when chocolates are at stake:)
Sunday, May 13, 2007
I have a green thumb
And only because I spilt the green ink on my hand while refilling the markers. That's a skill I have yet to master.
On the plant front, I'm sad to report, things are yet to take a positive turn. Let me describe a short scene that took place right outside my classroom this morning.
I was standing there, very carefully and lovingly showering the plant with water. I then gently picked up the wilted plant and was figuring a way to keep it upright. I used two plastic rulers from my "lost and found" box, but it wasn't really working. I was whispering a heartfelt "please don't die please don't die" throughout it all.
I was too engrossed in this desperate plant revival mission, I didn't notice her come up to me.
"Honey.. It's dead. You do know that right?" said Miss Sandy gently.
Me: no no no look I put a ruler it'll be okay really. Look at all the water I put.
Miss Sandy: Honey.. you're great with the kids, but I don't think plants are your thing. It's dead. It's been dead for a while.
Me: but.. but I have more rulers. Wait I'll put 4.. and I can get more water?
Hey before you jump at my throat, I'd like to point out that technically it wasn't mine. It's OUTSIDE my classroom and no one explicitly told me that it was my responsibility. Okay so it's right in front of my classroom, meaning I pass by it at least 70 times a day, but in my defense I'm usually running and wouldn't notice a pink cow if it was tap dancing. I think we've already established that I don't notice things easily. They'd have to be wearing stripy red and waving for me to stop and look.
And I can honestly tell you that the plant was not red, stripy or waving.
On the plant front, I'm sad to report, things are yet to take a positive turn. Let me describe a short scene that took place right outside my classroom this morning.
I was standing there, very carefully and lovingly showering the plant with water. I then gently picked up the wilted plant and was figuring a way to keep it upright. I used two plastic rulers from my "lost and found" box, but it wasn't really working. I was whispering a heartfelt "please don't die please don't die" throughout it all.
I was too engrossed in this desperate plant revival mission, I didn't notice her come up to me.
"Honey.. It's dead. You do know that right?" said Miss Sandy gently.
Me: no no no look I put a ruler it'll be okay really. Look at all the water I put.
Miss Sandy: Honey.. you're great with the kids, but I don't think plants are your thing. It's dead. It's been dead for a while.
Me: but.. but I have more rulers. Wait I'll put 4.. and I can get more water?
Hey before you jump at my throat, I'd like to point out that technically it wasn't mine. It's OUTSIDE my classroom and no one explicitly told me that it was my responsibility. Okay so it's right in front of my classroom, meaning I pass by it at least 70 times a day, but in my defense I'm usually running and wouldn't notice a pink cow if it was tap dancing. I think we've already established that I don't notice things easily. They'd have to be wearing stripy red and waving for me to stop and look.
And I can honestly tell you that the plant was not red, stripy or waving.
Note to self: LOOK AT YOUR OWN BANNERS
You'd think that blogging about "Walk the world" and displaying an actual banner about it on my blog, right in my face, would be enough to remind me to go. You'd think.
But coincidences happen, and sometimes they are awesome.
(Over lunch)
Mom: So Loyac sent me a text today about that walk you're going to tomorrow.
Me (still chewing a mouthful): Huh? Walk? what? who?
Mom: That hunger walk you blogged about.
Me (swallowed food too fast. Pain in the chest. Ouch): but that's NEXT WEEK at least. It can't be TOMORROW.
I dropped my fork and ran to the PC. Guess what, it was tomorrow. Man I'm a hopeless case.
Luckily I called my friend and she was on board even though it was such short notice. I was stuck in traffic on the way to her house, so we arrived a bit late and found that people had already started walking and could hardly be seen. But we put on our "Fight Hunger" tshirts and walked all the same. This was an insignificant detail. We were here to walk and that's what wer were going to do. It was a bit humid but we enjoyed it nonetheless. Nothing beats a walk in fresh air with an old friend. When we reached the finish line we hurried to get some ice-cream from Haagen Dazs. I'm not sure that's standard procedure after taking part in a "Fight Hunger" walk. Oh well.
We had to walk back again to the car, which was really fine since we were having a great time. But by the end we were groaning and whining. She had ballerina flats on which are comfortable for walking in the mall I guess but not for exercising. And I had on my new sneakers which I decided to break in today. Again not the smartest choice!
But the children were going to eat, and we had Haagen Dazs, so it's all good.
But coincidences happen, and sometimes they are awesome.
(Over lunch)
Mom: So Loyac sent me a text today about that walk you're going to tomorrow.
Me (still chewing a mouthful): Huh? Walk? what? who?
Mom: That hunger walk you blogged about.
Me (swallowed food too fast. Pain in the chest. Ouch): but that's NEXT WEEK at least. It can't be TOMORROW.
I dropped my fork and ran to the PC. Guess what, it was tomorrow. Man I'm a hopeless case.
Luckily I called my friend and she was on board even though it was such short notice. I was stuck in traffic on the way to her house, so we arrived a bit late and found that people had already started walking and could hardly be seen. But we put on our "Fight Hunger" tshirts and walked all the same. This was an insignificant detail. We were here to walk and that's what wer were going to do. It was a bit humid but we enjoyed it nonetheless. Nothing beats a walk in fresh air with an old friend. When we reached the finish line we hurried to get some ice-cream from Haagen Dazs. I'm not sure that's standard procedure after taking part in a "Fight Hunger" walk. Oh well.
We had to walk back again to the car, which was really fine since we were having a great time. But by the end we were groaning and whining. She had ballerina flats on which are comfortable for walking in the mall I guess but not for exercising. And I had on my new sneakers which I decided to break in today. Again not the smartest choice!
But the children were going to eat, and we had Haagen Dazs, so it's all good.
Little Bits of Success
Success comes in all shapes and sizes. Success for teachers is no different. Some consider it success when their students get high scores, others by how engaged their students seem to be during class. Success for you might be a high evaluation from your supervisor or a thank you letter from a parent. Or it could be a thumbs up from the year principal when you meet in the corridor (Yep. I got that! :D)
While a high evaluation is pretty sweet (speaking of which I did get Excellent in my evaluation for this semester:) Alf il hamdillah!). But I've always been more of a "it's the small things that count" enthusiast. I derive great pleasure and pride from the subtle and not-so-conspicuous.
If my students smile at me in the corridors instead of scurrying by, that's success to me. If while I'm at the playground duty they come up to me and start babbling about a weird (and often disturbing in the case of Abdulaziz) story of their last adventure, that is success to me. Things like that brighten up my day.
But secretly, I believed in my heart that nothing vouches for my success more sincerely than a bunch of kids choosing to hang out in my classroom during recess instead of hurrying down for their ritual running, kicking and potato chips eating. So far it hasn't happened.
Until this morning.
They say, be careful what you wish for it cuz it might juuust come true. Oh how true. I had just finishing substituting for Ms. Sahar and only had 10 minutes to prepare for my next class, so I was stressing. The door opened and four of my boys walked in with their sandwiches. They were here to stay. Ahmed smiled and said: "we just thought we'd drop by".
I grinned, successfully hiding my panic attack. I mean, of ALL the recesses in ALL the weeks, throughout the whole year, why oh why today? Don't you just love Murphy?:)
Oh who am I kidding, I didn't care about my next lesson, I was on cloud number 9! They started babbling on about hilarious things. Then Ahmed told me about the huge incline plane system he built at home, which gave me a great idea. I told them to help themselves with all the boxes that fill my classroom (studying simple machines has turned my classroom into a dump!) to start building their own inclined planes. I provided toys cars for extra pleasure. Instantly, chips bags were tossed aside and they were on it. They loved it.
Soon the time was up, so I left them in class and went down to pick the rest of the kids. When I re-entered the class the boys were no where to be seen. I didn't think about it too much as I was busy manually seating both Abdulla's. I'm going to have to start using scotch tape soon I swear to God. Suddenly the boys started yelling in excitement and surprise. Two boys were hiding under the table and the other two were (very effectively) buried under a huge pile of boxes. I cracked up. I would've never found them. I'm bad at noticing things (Dalia will attest to that only too gladly) as it is, so when my entire attention is focused on discovering WHO IS THROWING THE STUPID ERASERS - it kinda gets harder!
Call me weird, but I choose to share this as my success story, and not a cold lifeless 92.5% on my evaluation paper. But the fact that they chose to "drop by" when they could've been down acting insane and badgering each other (something they derive GREAT pleasure from believe me), totally made my day!
These are the things that make my heart make a "happy happy joy joy" dance. Things like a third grader from a class I substituted for at the very beginning of the year coming up to me in recess yesterday and saying:
Kid: Do you teach English?
Me: nope sweetie. I teach grade 4 science.
Kid: Okay what classes do you teach?
Me: 4A, B, C and D (the kid is in E)
Kid (slapping head in disappointment): ohhh.. then I am not lucky.
The thing is, I'm not half as good as he seems to think I am. And I'm not sure how accurate it is to be called lucky cuz I'll be teaching you next year. But that doesn't really matter. What matters is that he brightened my day. Made my heart skip a beat.
I'm so thankful to Allah. Being appreciated is a blessing. And what a blessing it is.
While a high evaluation is pretty sweet (speaking of which I did get Excellent in my evaluation for this semester:) Alf il hamdillah!). But I've always been more of a "it's the small things that count" enthusiast. I derive great pleasure and pride from the subtle and not-so-conspicuous.
If my students smile at me in the corridors instead of scurrying by, that's success to me. If while I'm at the playground duty they come up to me and start babbling about a weird (and often disturbing in the case of Abdulaziz) story of their last adventure, that is success to me. Things like that brighten up my day.
But secretly, I believed in my heart that nothing vouches for my success more sincerely than a bunch of kids choosing to hang out in my classroom during recess instead of hurrying down for their ritual running, kicking and potato chips eating. So far it hasn't happened.
Until this morning.
They say, be careful what you wish for it cuz it might juuust come true. Oh how true. I had just finishing substituting for Ms. Sahar and only had 10 minutes to prepare for my next class, so I was stressing. The door opened and four of my boys walked in with their sandwiches. They were here to stay. Ahmed smiled and said: "we just thought we'd drop by".
I grinned, successfully hiding my panic attack. I mean, of ALL the recesses in ALL the weeks, throughout the whole year, why oh why today? Don't you just love Murphy?:)
Oh who am I kidding, I didn't care about my next lesson, I was on cloud number 9! They started babbling on about hilarious things. Then Ahmed told me about the huge incline plane system he built at home, which gave me a great idea. I told them to help themselves with all the boxes that fill my classroom (studying simple machines has turned my classroom into a dump!) to start building their own inclined planes. I provided toys cars for extra pleasure. Instantly, chips bags were tossed aside and they were on it. They loved it.
Soon the time was up, so I left them in class and went down to pick the rest of the kids. When I re-entered the class the boys were no where to be seen. I didn't think about it too much as I was busy manually seating both Abdulla's. I'm going to have to start using scotch tape soon I swear to God. Suddenly the boys started yelling in excitement and surprise. Two boys were hiding under the table and the other two were (very effectively) buried under a huge pile of boxes. I cracked up. I would've never found them. I'm bad at noticing things (Dalia will attest to that only too gladly) as it is, so when my entire attention is focused on discovering WHO IS THROWING THE STUPID ERASERS - it kinda gets harder!
Call me weird, but I choose to share this as my success story, and not a cold lifeless 92.5% on my evaluation paper. But the fact that they chose to "drop by" when they could've been down acting insane and badgering each other (something they derive GREAT pleasure from believe me), totally made my day!
These are the things that make my heart make a "happy happy joy joy" dance. Things like a third grader from a class I substituted for at the very beginning of the year coming up to me in recess yesterday and saying:
Kid: Do you teach English?
Me: nope sweetie. I teach grade 4 science.
Kid: Okay what classes do you teach?
Me: 4A, B, C and D (the kid is in E)
Kid (slapping head in disappointment): ohhh.. then I am not lucky.
The thing is, I'm not half as good as he seems to think I am. And I'm not sure how accurate it is to be called lucky cuz I'll be teaching you next year. But that doesn't really matter. What matters is that he brightened my day. Made my heart skip a beat.
I'm so thankful to Allah. Being appreciated is a blessing. And what a blessing it is.
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