Departure

There is a time for departure even when there's no certain place to go. ~Tennessee Williams

The Next Step

Looking back at this blog I have noticed in the few months that it has existed, it has mainly consisted of questions and theories and uncertainties. In short, it acts as one large question mark.

What to do? How? To trust or not to? To throw all the cards upon the table and just laugh at whatever fate has to throw?

I now know what the next step is and I'm afraid....am I really leaving Cairo? Will my beloved city no longer be home? But in fact the time draws closer and I'm behaving like a small child, holding her hands over her eyes- dreaming that if she doesn't look then it won't happen and life will continue as a dream of fairy stories and games and laughter.

 Tonight, I started bidding her goodbye, Cairo....my beloved, my tempestuous love affair that I will always go back to. As I raced back home along the Corniche after breaking fast my heart stuck in my throat as I breathed in the smell of Cairo, the lights of Cairo as they reflected back through the haze and humidity of the night, the reflections as they bounced off the waters of the Nile.

 I don’t wish to paint a cliché and over emotional picture. I have lived in many cities, seen many continents and yet I believe no city could ever compare.

Les Séparés

N'écris pas. Je suis triste, et je voudrais m'éteindre. Les beaux étés sans toi, c'est la nuit sans flambeau.

J'ai refermé mes bras qui ne peuvent t'atteindre, Et frapper à mon coeur, c'est frapper au tombeau.

N'écris pas !

N'écris pas. N'apprenons qu'à mourir à nous-mêmes. Ne demande qu'à Dieu... qu'à toi, si je t'aimais !

Au fond de ton absence écouter que tu m'aimes, C'est entendre le ciel sans y monter jamais.

N'écris pas !

N'écris pas. Je te crains ; j'ai peur de ma mémoire ; Elle a gardé ta voix qui m'appelle souvent.Ne montre pas l'eau vive à qui ne peut la boire. Une chère écriture est un portrait vivant.

N'écris pas !

N'écris pas ces doux mots que je n'ose plus lire : Il semble que ta voix les répand sur mon

coeur ; Que je les vois brûler à travers ton sourire ; Il semble qu'un baiser les empreint sur mon coeur.

N'écris pas !

Marceline DESBORDES-VALMORE

Do not write. I am sad, and want my light put out. Summers in your absence are as dark as a room. I have closed my arms again. They must do without. To knock at my heart is like knocking at a tomb.

Do not write!

Do not write. Let us learn to die, as best we may. Did I love you? Ask God. Ask yourself. Do you know? To hear that you love me, when you are far away, Is like hearing from heaven and never to go.

Do not write!

Do not write. I fear you. I fear to remember, For memory holds the voice I have often heard. To the one who cannot drink, do not show water, The beloved one's picture in the handwritten word.

Do not write!

Do not write those gentle words that I dare not see, It seems that your voice is spreading them on my heart, Across your smile, on fire, they appear to me, It seems that a kiss is printing them on my heart.

Do not write!

What makes an Arab an Arab?

A repost of something I wrote a long, long time ago.....

No…this is not a riddle or some lame joke but actually a serious question and does not only apply to Arabs but to every other nationality, ethnicity, culture or race out there. The question is what is it that defines you in that awkward box that you tick on a census or equal opportunities form?
Al-Jazz has been running a series of articles surrounding Arab Unity and one of these was What makes an Arab?

Sati al Husri seemed to think that:

Every individual who belongs to the Arab countries and speaks Arabic is an Arab. He is so, regardless of the name of the country whose citizenship he officially holds. He is so, regardless of the religion he professes or the sect he belongs to. He is so,regardless of his ancestry, lineage or the roots of the family to which he belongs to. He is an Arab.

That seems to be a very cut and dry explanation for what it is to be something and seems to lay everything at the door of langauge. But what about those living abroad who don’t speak their original language or indeed those living in the Arab world who haven’t mastered the language properly?
In the Al-Jazz article one of the contrubutors gives an anwer which certainly expands the question beyond its ordinary boundaries

Khaled Bahaeldin, Surgeon- Egyptian

I believe that Arab identity is the product of a historical interaction among people sharing a geographically unpartitioned area. This interaction comprises theological, cultural, linguistic and political components, each of which takes precedence in a particular historical era. But I have to stress that the ‘intra-actions’ between Arabs have never been due to a singular component. Indeed, the Arab inhabitants of the Middle East, despite the obvious chauvinisms, could claim communality with each other.”

I believe that the root of this identity lies also in values, religion, habits, attitudes etc. Also a certain unconditional love for a place that seems a little crazy at the best of times.

The Decay of Arabic

For me this is a very topical post. Many intellectuals are lamenting the decline of the Arabic language...but what do they mean by that? From observation I see more books than ever being published in the Arabic language and enjoying a huge success amongst audiences all over the Arab world. So this leads me to believe that the intellectuals mean we are witnessing the destruction of classical Arabic, fusha, the standardised Arabic .

Sadly this is indeed the case, perhaps for the mere fact that schools have been unable to provide the kind of education their students needed to achieve a real mastery of the language. For instance, those who attended language schools with me in Egypt during the 80s have most frequently finished school without mastering either English/ French nor Arabic. Indeed a sad state of affairs. A recent conversation with the Principal of Choueifat also revealed that even those willing to pay out thousands are not achieving the kind of standards needed to really be called a linguist.

But in anycase do we really need to be clinging to fusha? As potent as the ideology of a single unifying language has been for centuries, there are growing indications that it may finally be falling by the wayside. But as Layla Ahmed this may be lending a greater excuberance to the texts being published:

"I had always felt that English was somehow close and more kin to Egyptian Arabic than was standard Arabic. Until now this had seemed to me to be a nonsensical, unreasonable feeling. Now I realized that in fact English felt more like Egyptian Arabic because it was more like it: both are living languages and both have that quickness and pliancy and vitality that living spoken languages have and that the written Arabic of our day does not. I have yet to hear or read any piece of Arabic poetry or prose by a modern writer that, however gorgeous and delicate and poetic and moving, is not also stilted and artificial. There is a very high price to pay for having a written language that is only a language of literature and that has only a distant, attenuated connection to the living language.

I am not, I should say, implicitly arguing that we should do away with or stop teaching standard Arabic, for of course I recognize its usefulness as a lingua franca. And I know too how complicated the issue is, among other reasons because Classical Arabic (albeit different again from Standard Arabic) is the language of the Quran, and I know that many major writers of literary Arabic — including Naguib Mahfouz — consider literary Arabic, the Arabic of the educated classes, to be the only acceptable vehicle for literature. So I am certainly not arguing against our continuing to teach, study and learn literary Arabic. I am, however, making a plea for a recognition of the enormous linguistic and cultural diversity that makes up the Arab world. And I am arguing for our developing a creative approach that, instead of silencing and erasing the tremendous wealth that this diversity represents, would foster it and foster the development, on at least an equal footing with standard Arabic, of written forms of Moroccan, Gulf, Egyptian, Iraqi, Palestinian, and other Arabics, and also of the non-Arabic living languages of the region, such as Nubian and Berber. European nationalists have devastated their own local languages — Welsh, Scots, Breton — languages now struggling to make a comeback. Let us avoid that history. Let us find a way to celebrate, and rejoice in, this wealth and diversity that is ours, instead of setting out to suppress it."

Meanwhile the Lebanese government is doing what it can to save the language. 

In the Gulf, with the scores of English speaking expats flocking to their shores for economic purposes and English remaining at the front of business, economy and more and more in everyday life, Professors are becoming alarmed that Arabic may disappear all together. This would render Sati el Husri's definition of an Arab meaningless.

Every individual who belongs to the Arab countries and speaks Arabic is an Arab. He is so, regardless of the name of the country whose citizenship he officially holds. He is so, regardless of the religion he professes or the sect he belongs to. He is so,regardless of his ancestry, lineage or the roots of the family to which he belongs to. He is an Arab.

The Mandatory Silly Post

So I was recently flicking through my reader when I came about this post on National Sterotypes, as you can see it includes Brits, Brazilians, Mexicans but no Arabs- unless you incled the heading 'any Muslim nation'. So I thought I'd feature some of my own little sterotypes of Arab nations

The Egyptians: Well being one of them, I would tend to say Egyptians should be characterised by sheer awesomeness, but the reality is that we're known for our sense of humour and a deep sense of honour and generosity. Unfuortunately we are known also for being somewhat materialistic...ah well, can't be perfect :)

The Lebanese: Well the Lebs are known for being very attractive...particularly their ladies (though their men also....la ba2s ya3ni) and for being party animals. They are also known for being rather crazy- this country has seen more civil wars than peace since it was created.

The Palestinians: Tough, rough, idealistic and most certainly the underdog.

The Syrians: An old Egyptian joke went that in Syria the first to wake up in the morning made a coup d'etat. Generally they are known for their business-savyness....the quality of their domestic intelligence and in my humble opinion, their complexity.

The Iraqis: Definitely a tough and rough people and known for being a little bit blood thirsty. More recently seen as the abused under-dog much like the Palestinians but much admired for their bravery and resiliance.

The Saudis: Hypocrites, who think they can buy anything. Also for those who have lived there, I think all agree that it has to be the most boring country on earth- hence no picture.

The Algerians: Well the recent football debacle between Egypt and Algeria fuelled the idea that the Algerians are very hot headed. A very long civil war has fuelled this theory. Ha...and when looking for a picture I felt myself needing to add that many are not in Algeria- though that applies for many Arab countries.

Gulf Arabs: Yuck

disclaimer: this post was just for fun and meant no disrespect to any of the mentioned nations

Maturity is not measured in years, or by gray hair, or by lines on the face: it is measured by scars on the heart. To never have suffered heartbreak is to never truly have lived. To expose one's heart repeatedly is an act of sacrifice, kindness, and hope, not one of regret and shame.

Is this the case? Is it truly the case? Or does it display weakness and a poor judgement of character? When I think of the destruction I've seen, I feel a large part of me has shrivelled and died. I'm no longer the laughing child I once was in those old photographs I sorted through. Nor am I the melodramatic teenager, who waited with such hope for life to begin. Nor even that girl in her early twenties who embraced the trials and adventures life had to offer with such a devil may care attitude. In fact I feel more cautious and afraid than I ever felt before.

Frustration

A new day and yet i felt grumpy and despondant.....i think because of too little sleep but i also felt so angry! Angry at myself for being such an idealistic fool, angry at those who took advantage of that and again angry at myself for allowing that to happen. I feel always as though I am two women in one; the sweet innocent but gullible little fool and the worldly, capable but not so nice woman....I wish i could bring them togethet to bond together.
To compound this anger, i was contacted by all the people I had no desire to hear from....I smiled and laughed and wished them all the most pleasant of Ramadans, then felt like banging my head because of my stupidity.....why oh why do I always try to be nice???? I once thought this was stronger, to smile at those who had wronged you- turn the other cheek if you will but no, I think this is just an inability to do otherwise.
I know I said it would require small steps to get over this but this is ridiculous!!!

But then it just struck me...it takes very little to be civil for somone one cares nothing for.

Ramadan

The inevitable Ramadan post and yet I'd like to believe that this is with a slight difference. For me, Ramadan is the best month of the year, though not for the reasons one would imagine.

Perhaps from habit, from example or genuine spiritual awakening/ reawkening, I find Ramadan a chance to take stock of what has happened throughout the year, a time to contemplate and review what has gone wrong and right. What needs to be rectified etc.Of course this happens throughout the year but Ramadan always seems a bit more intense.

Over the past few months, I feel I've had ample time to reflect, perhaps much needed and whilst I have arrived at a few conclusions and been stronger for it, I can not be 100% sure that these are all correct.

I still stand by the statement though that at every moment of our lives we all have one foot in a fairy tale and the other in the abyss and oh how very true that has proven to be!

I feel like these are the obscure ramblings of someone who's mind is jumping from one thought to another and that is in part true, but these thoughts are interconnected.

I need to be stronger and stick by my convictions, regardless. I need to be a bit more selfish and care more for myself. I need to stick to 'the plan' and most of all I need to be rid of this blame I heap upon myself each time I consider the past.

On that note I should sleep before I become even more arcane :)