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Another wave of turmoil hits the Middle East like a Tsunami with an Anti Islamic movie that went viral and caused hundreds of tempers to reach boiling point.

I haven’t been able to get my hands on the full film but the clip that I did see was a pitiful attempt at movie making to say the least. The quality of the cinematography was clearly of that of a rookie and the dialogue was so baseless and lifeless that I think a bunch of Elementary students could have done a better job. As for the content of the script and portrayal of the Prophet Mohammed (May Peace Be upon Him) was sick and twisted! The clip I saw portrayed him as a disoriented fool, who could be suffering from schizophrenia or was a junky of some kind that rambled on about none sense and didn’t make sense. I can now see and understand how upset, insulted and appalled Muslims around the world were.

Nakoula Basseley Nakoula (aka”Sam Bacile” or Mark Basseley Youssef) the film maker who sparked the wave of rage has proven to be a man of many names and a sly con artist with a very long rap sheet from the reports that are coming out about him. I wonder if his (wrongful) depiction of the Prophet was based on his own troubled soul?

Nakoula, an Egyptian born national collaborated with a U.S. religious group called Media for Christ. In a humors twist, these so-called “Right Wing” Christians had their dubbed anti-Islamic film directed by a pornographer (thought I recognized the 80’s style from somewhere). Forgive my ignorance…but, ummmm, doesn’t pornography go against Christian beliefs? Secondly why would they dream of having a director who directs sinful media associated with their ‘Media for Christ’? Surly, Christ himself wouldn’t condone such a person to make a film on his behalf and secondly the Son of God (Prophet or Messiah depending on your belief ) who endured crucifixion for his love of humanity wouldn’t want such a ‘Blasphemous’ film being made and have his name associated with it. After all aren’t we all God’s children?

Nakoula and the other right-wing people behind the making of this poor excuse for a documentary film knew exactly what would happen the moment his film was released to the public. He may have anticipated rage, which would then heighten the popularity of his poorly made and fact less movie but I doubt he could have known to what degree the anger would have reached and that blood would be shed.  I do wonder if he ever for one moment put his own people, by own people I mean the Coptic community of Egypt into consideration? Did he not think that this could backfire and that people might turn violent on them and persecute them for his stupid actions?

The reaction to the movie I can understand. The actions that people took, I DO NOT and I certainly DO NOT and cannot justify in any shape or form. In my opinion it was over reacted, only to fuel media interest and popularity in the movie. The attacking of Embassies, Ambassadors and Embassy employees was uncalled for and barbaric. Reactions like these just fuel the false impression and misconception that the world has about people from Egypt, Middle East and Muslims. When we go out with hot heads and tempers blazing they are ready and waiting to catch it on tape to stream on their networks to make us out to be the crazed ‘savages’ that they have painted us to be. Fueling ignorance and making us out to be psychotic trigger happy ignoramuses ready to declare ‘jihad’ and kill at a drop of a hat.

I don’t know about you, but I am sick and tired of hearing that we are all terrorists, uneducated, uncivilized….bla bla bla bla bla!!  Violent reactions like these make those avid watchers of FOX network think that what they are watching and what they are being told is true. It makes them out to be right in the eyes of the public and we keep playing into the palm of their hands. We need to STOP, THINK about our actions before we react and the best way to shatter the public’s image of us is to beat them at their own game. The best way I have found to beat bullies is to ignore them or to treat them nicely, (easier said than done, I agree. Then again nothing comes easy, but every time we resist the urge to fall into their trap and they find less to say to fuel their image would be well worth the effort.  It takes a lot to bite your tongue and not want to slap someone, but it can be done. If Gandhi could do it, then by George so can we!)

WE ARE BETTER THAN THIS!!! We have thousands of years of history, culture and ancient CIVILIZATIONS that WE originate from! The world of Mathematics and Science is what it is today because of OUR ancestors. Let us not forget that and while we are at it, let’s remind them and show them who we truly are.

Let us not allow the minorities that are captured on film doing these acts be the source of people labeling us and the basis for their generalization of people from the region. They do not represent me, they do not reflect who I am and I know they do not reflect the majority.

 

Students and teachers alike look forward to the longest holiday of the year, ‘summer’.

In the past summers for me meant packing my bags with all that I would need and move down to Agami, a summer resort just outside of Alexandria on the Mediterranean Sea, where my parents had a beach house. There I would spend my days in shorts, t-shirt, swimsuit and flip-flops with my beach bag ready for the beach. Two to three months of swimming, tanning, reading, playing volleyball, running a summer camp for children and catching up with old friends whom I hadn’t seen since the previous summer.

Summer home in Agami- Villa Casa Blanca

Times have changed and friends have moved on. I have not been back to Bianki since 2007. I miss the times, I had there during my teenage years. It is there where I made some of my most memorable memories and met some very interesting people and dear friends.  To date, my summers are split between Alexandria and going abroad to various destinations to get away from the stress that the post revolution has left and the political roller coaster of electorial disappointments we have had to take part in, witness and accept the results of.

The beginning portion of my summer for the past two years has been spent in Alexandria with my parents. My mother and I have been motivating one another to get back in shape and eat healthy. (This as some of you may know has been an ongoing process for me. After  1.5 years of battling the bulge, I am 13Kg away from my target weight!) I would spend an hour working out at home, doing various crunches and sit-ups as well as using an elliptical bike and 3 hours of the day would be spent swimming laps and using various apparatus to help strengthen and tone my arms and legs. For a few weeks, I or we would go abroad.

To go abroad for me is a chance to recharge, re-evaluate, relax and look at things from a different perspective (the change in scenery and climate is also an added bonus). This year my mother and I ventured to London to visit briefly with my sister and to Ireland to attend a family wedding and strengthen family connection with our cousins, whom we had lost contact with over the past few years.

I am fascinated with our family genealogy, especially on the Irish side. I have found that not only do I look Irish, I have a lot of the Irish family traits in me and from listening to stories, I find I learn more and more about myself and why some of the members of our family are the way that they are.

As a young girl London never appealed to me, I had formed an image of it being a dark, grey and gloomy place, much like the Industrial time in England. My opinion changed quickly when I first visited 3 years ago. I look forward to my visits there now, not solely due to it’s undeniable allure but because I actually feel normal there. I don’t worry about what I’m wearing and if I’ll be harassed as I walk down the street or how long it will take me to get to my destination. When I am there the stress of constantly having to be aware of the people around me and looking for signs of possible sexual harassers trying to invade my personal space drops from 100 to 1.

Time spent with my sister, her husband and other members of our family are precious and they always take priority. I try to spend as much time with them as I can, to keep our family bond strong and because I simply love being in their company. There is never a dull moment when we congregate! On extended visits I like to walk around and take in the sights, museums, shows, take pictures and of course shop! (One has to make a contribution to the economy of the country one happens to visit, no?)

It was also exciting to have been there pre-Olympic ceremony. To see the city decorated with flags of the different nations taking part in the games. The excitment and pride of the nationals to host the games. My mum and I missed the ceremony but watched many of the highlights and events once we had made it back to our hotel room and back to Egypt after our trip. The athletes are phenominal in their dedication and inspring!

Family time or giving new meaning to the term, ‘swimming with the fishes’

I have always been very proud and patriotic of my Irish heritage. When I visit I can’t help but be in awe of her beauty. Her beauty, in my opinion becomes more enhanced by her people, who have such a cheerful, friendly, helpful and funny disposition about them. I can’t help but find so many similarities in them and the ‘old’ Egyptian culture that I grew up knowing, ( it saddens me to think that what remains of the ‘old’ Egypt, might soon be lost, if things are not sorted out soon).

During this trip to Ireland, I made sure that I would not be rushing through like a forest fire, but I would actually have time to walk the streets, visit historical landmarks, eat in pubs, shop and talk with the locals, as well as visit with family.

I can not tell you how much I enjoyed touring the capital, learning about how Ireland earned its Independence, driving through the grounds of Phoenix Park, visiting Trinity College and sitting in its grand library of ancient manuscripts and books that were written and read by some of the greatest minds on earth and where some members of my family attended. Although my connection to the country itself isn’t strong, I think this journey has definitely strengthened it.

                                                       
                        The scene from the brige where my cousin wed his bride. Tintern Abbey-Rosslare

My cousin whom I had only reconnected with over the last three years and hadn’t seen in twenty, invited my family and I to attend his wedding. The place in which the nuptials took place and the ceremony itself was unlike any wedding that I have ever been to or seen before. It was a Humanist Wedding/Ceremony, filled with spirituality, tradition and love. It was held on a bridge on a beautiful summer’s day with beautiful landscape encompassing the couple and their families and friends. Nothing could have made it more magical, meaningful or beautiful in my opinion.  The two-day event was packed with entertainment, food and great times. Most importantly it was shared with people who truly cared for the couple and genuinely wished them nothing but happiness in their future life together. It was at this event, where I made new connections and bonds with members of our family whom I had lost contact with and those I had never met before. (Now, I know where I get my energy, drive, motivation to succeed, love of learning, sense of humor and love of partying from, The McSorley Clan)

The third part of our trip was spent visiting the area of where my grandmother and generations before her had come from. In some strange way, Wexford, a small county by the sea reminded me of Alexandria. It is here where my mother attended boarding school as a young girl and where she spent many summers with her aunt, uncle and cousins at a nearby resort called Rosslare. As I walked the quay and breathed in the fresh Irish sea air and took in the scenic views, I couldn’t help but be grateful for the opportunity to have traveled to the land of my ancestors, to see where half of me is from and to be able to pass down the stories that have been told to me by my aunt, mother and cousins, so, that our history isn’t lost or forgotten.

In Wexford we strengthened existing ties with family we are in touch with. It was also a second opportunity for my mother to spend time her aged aunt of 97 years and to thank her for all the wonderful summers she had spent with them as a child and all the other things she and her late husband did for her growing up. (Moments like that should be seised, because they may never come again).

There is so much more for me to see and learn of Ireland but I have an itching desire to learn as much as I can about my family as I can. I hope to be able to go back there again soon in the near future.

Upon returning to Egypt I couldn’t help but feel depressed. Ireland might be in dire straits economically but the people have the drive to rebuild the country to get it back on its feet again. Egypt, a nation of great potential and historical as well as cultural wealth seems to be sinking before our eyes and very few seem willing to get their hands dirty. I have said it before and I will say it again. I fear for Egypt’s future and her children. I pray that I am wrong and that she will not suffer in the hands of men like Rasputin. Perhaps the Egyptian Olympians who preformed so well at the London 2012 games, might inspire their country men and women that hard work does pay off and that they can not only achieve great things but be recognised for them in the long run, if they pull together and move forward in rebuilding the country rather than pointing the finger of blame.

I have come to notice that this year has been one of many changes and these changes leave me grasping at straws for familiar and stable things that were once a constant reassurance in my daily life, but with some of my closest friends having moved far away and having to make new connections with people, I can’t help but wonder, where do I go from here? I find myself at home on most nights sitting thinking about my future direction as well as reflecting on past relationships and life decisions. Have I strayed from my path? Am I supposed to be where I am right now? God, how I wish I had a compass or some sort of gauge to help know if what I have done or am doing is right. (I bet I’m not alone in wishing that) In the past year my sister got married and moved to another country and is starting a new life with a great man as well as a new career. I can sympathies and understand some of her excitement of the new adventures that lie ahead of her, but I can also relate to her trials and tribulations too. In the past couple of years a handful of close friends have uprooted and moved abroad and they were people I could relate to easily, talk to without judgment and comfortably let my guard down without worrying about being stabbed in the back. As more and more people move to different locations I can’t help but wonder, What is to become of me? Where or to whom will my path take me to next? The unknown for some, is exciting and for others terrifying. As for me, I just feel very disorientated right now. For the past week or so, I have been remembering my younger years and how I seemed to have it together, I may have lacked confidence but I certainly seemed to have appeal and direction. I had been told once, that when I entered a room there was something about me that caught people’s attention. I’m not sure; I still have ‘that’. The past few years I have been recovering and mending a shattered heart. During the time of reconstruction I think whilst I tried to numb the pain and self-medicate myself with food, I lost myself and my way. For the life of me, I can’t remember what it was I had hoped of making of myself. Recently I was asked what ‘my goal in life was’, naturally I want to live a happy, healthy and full one where I am successful at my job, but in that moment I felt a part of the old me resurface and crawl out from her hiding place. I was able to answer the question, without hesitation… I want to build my own Legacy. I have no idea how I am going to go about it, when my full time job is as an Elementary Teacher, but hey, it’s a start. In the past year and a half I have gone from a size 18/16 to a 14. When I stand in front of the mirror I can almost see the reflection of my former self. The person who used to stare back at me was one who shared the same features but was encaged in issues that kept her from surfacing. As I begin to gain more control and confidence again, I feel as though I am not only ready to continue battling my inner worries and demons but to strive forward and continue along my destined path, where ever it may lead. The unknown is a scary thing, but it can also be an exciting adventure that awaits. I need to have faith and trust in myself as well as the powers that be, that whatever is meant to be, is what is right for me.

Family

Here I am, a thirty something year old whom for the first time feels like she has gained more independence since having moved out of the safety and comfort of her parent’s house about eight years ago and yet now that I have my very own pair of walking shoes to go on great adventures to travel to far off places, to have experiences of my own and to create my own repertoire of stories to tell the next generation. I find myself hesitant …

In International teaching, you find that there is a lot of vacation time and being where I am, traveling to Europe, Asia and Africa is just one short plane ride away. Unlike my colleagues, I don’t plan my trips in advance. I prefer going home to Alexandria to spend time with my family.

I have found that people are spending less time with their family and losing out on the wisdom, stories and family bonding that was once so important 4-5 generations ago. Living so far away from my maternal relatives has hindered our relationship and I feel that gap between us is so big that we have become strangers, (with the exception of one or two).

There are times where I want to do something different and experience new things in far off lands, go on a safari or something of the sort, where I’ll have the opportunity to meet new people and observe foreign cultures first hand, BUT I also feel that if I do go, that I’ll be losing time that I could be spending with my family. Let’s face it our parents have invested a lot of time in raising and looking after us and once we are set free to earn our own living our lives get so busy and we are so absorbed in the drama that fogs our sight and engulf our every waking moment that we spend less time with them and sometimes lose focus on whom we have in our lives and how precious they are. I love spending time with my parents.I feel like I learn more about myself and traits when I’m with them. It also keeps me grounded and true to my origins. A person should never forget where they came from in order to be able to move forward and become who they are destined to be.

I do know and recognize that I can’t keep doing this and I need to broaden my horizons more, but it’s a double edged sword. Our parent’s aren’t around forever and neither are we if we think about it. The only thing we have is ‘now’, limited time and it’s a gift. We need to use it wisely and not waste it on trivial things. That’s all I can advise and say.

Don't be silenced by shame, Stand Up and Speak Up!

A few weeks ago I was on a walking tour with some my colleagues in Islamic Cairo on a chilly and somewhat gloomy Saturday morning. I was the youngest female in the group and the only one who had lived in the Middle East for 3 decades. Pete, one of the people on the tour approached me and asked me how I cope with living in Egypt and how do I handle ‘the men’ and being harassed on the street. I told him that I had written an article about Sexual Harassment and it had been published in Community times. Interested in my views and article he asked me to send him a copy and if I would consider being a guest speaker and give a talk to High Schoolers, I agreed.

I am always willing to share my work with others and get their feedback, but as the date for the talk loomed closer I wasn’t so sure if I could follow through. The memories and the feelings of the experiences I had and trying to find the words to describe the situations and how it affected me wasn’t as easy as I had thought it would be. I found myself in a tug of war ‘don’t do it, you don’t need to go through all this again, it’s in the past.’ ‘You have to do this, you have to speak up and let the younger generation know that this isn’t acceptable and that women and men shouldn’t brush this under the carpet any longer! Women have been silenced long enough; you need to speak up and out about it.’ My worry was resurrecting and awakening the emotions that I had worked so hard to tame and keep locked away. Would I be able to handle it even after all the time that had passed?

The voice of reason won the battle and I didn’t bail out. To help me I wrote out key points to help me stay on track as a guide line to the discussion and talk. I knew that if I let my emotions get the better of me; it may turn out to be a bawling session and a mockery of something that I feel very deeply about.

The day of the talk, I had butterflies in my stomach and when I saw the young faces of Egypt’s future I became more nervous, my face flushed a bright red and my skin burned, my voice quivered and my hands shook, but I kept going.

After introducing myself to the class, giving my nationalities and making sure that they knew that although I am of mixed ethnicity that I was also ‘ONE OF THEM’, an Egyptian woman. This seemed to wake them up a bit and grab their attention. I discussed the different forms of sexual harassment (Degrading and graphic terms said, the skin crawling looks of being undressed and devoured by the other person and the physical (which on its own comes in many forms))

I told them that most people assume that women or teenage girls must have done something or dressed provocatively to have provoked or asked for the attack to happen. I then told them that my earliest memory was between the ages of 10 or 12 and I was in a shopping mall with my family when I had my first experience and that is when I saw the students get their wake up call! I had reached them; they were seeing it not only from an Egyptian woman’s point of view but from a kid’s point of view. They knew that there was no way at such a young age I could have provoked an attack or had known what sexual harassment was.

Unfortunately children here lead very sheltered lives and do not know what dangers await them outside their apartment doors. They know that there are bad people and that there are thieves but they aren’t made aware of the others that are lurking about. Our girls are clueless and defenseless, I am certain that none of them would know what to do if they were put in a situation like that.

There are many subjects that are taboo in this part of the world and have been locked away in a dark corner of everyone’s mind, simply because they choose not to believe it exists and it will go away on its own. In a perfect world, perhaps it would work, but we do not have that privilege.

Not talking about ‘Sex’, ‘The Body’ and ‘Sexual Harassment’ makes things worse, the predators and prowlers who take advantage of the women walking in the street minding their own business may not have been made aware of what some people will do and how they may violate them. They mightn’t understand or know what their instincts are telling them when they sense an intruder in their personal space. Women being shamed in to guilt and silence just make the offenders more powerful and willing to repeat their acts on other innocent and unsuspecting women?! How can we condone such a thing? We need to arm these women with knowledge of how to recognize a potential offender and how to fight them off. Letting them walk around unarmed with the basic knowledge is just as bad as the person committing the acts themselves.

I know full well what goes through a woman’s mind and the mental torment that follows after an attack. The incident replays itself over and over in your mind, you wonder what you may have done to have provoked the attacker, what you could have done differently. How dirty you feel and no matter how hard or many times you try to wash yourself, the dirt doesn’t seem to go away. It seems to linger on and beneath the skin. You just want to curl up somewhere dark and hide away, BUT if we do that, they win and they strip us of our dignity.

After one of my attacks, I said enough is enough, I will not be silenced! I am not doing anything wrong and I certainly DON’T WANT this to happen! I am going to fight back and I will not let them silence me. This is MY body and they have NO right to touch me!

The examples I gave not only hit home with the girls in the class but it also hit home with the boys. Especially when I told them that on more than one occasion there were men who saw what happened and did nothing. No one came to my aid and I had to fight the sicko off myself!

It isn’t only the women who have to stand up but it’s also the men who have to as well.

I am grateful that the school and the teachers are broaching the subject and are discussing it openly and honestly with the students. I feel that more schools and homes should do the same, If we are ever going to make the streets safer for women to walk down without constantly having to be alert of everyone one around her.

After the talk, four of the staff members who had been present for my talk said that not only were they moved by the talk, but that the students seemed to really relate and were fired up about bringing about change and doing something to make more people aware.

I know I had my doubts about giving the talk, but I am glad that I did. I may have reached someone that day and given them some tips to recognize the warnings and let them know that they are not alone in this.

I have been a victim of Sexual Harassment, I will NOT be silenced and I AM speaking out against it.

NB: My Mom just called me in a panic, because she thought that I had been raped and not told her about it. Sexual Harassment doesn’t have to be an assault to that degree. No, I have not been raped, but I have had men full clothed try to force themselves on me and touch me in places that is in appropriate. That is also sexual harassment and it isn’t right!

I am beginning to feel that perhaps the guy who had broken my heart four years ago was right. That perhaps I am not worthy of being anyone’s girlfriend, that I am not attractive and that no guy would want to go out with me.

You’re probably wondering what triggered this train of thought…. Well, what else would send me in to a spiral storm of total loss of self-confidence? … A man of course!

I just wish men would come forward and say exactly what it is that they are thinking, rather than make me write a mental list of all the possible things I might have said or did that may have pushed them away. As well as open up my closet of endless flaws  and go through each and every point that could have contributed towards the rejection.

Just when I was taking steps towards getting back in to the dating game and taking the risk of opening up, I have been knocked back in to my shell and buried back under a rock, while trying to be brave by holding back the hurt and holding back the burning tears.

Is any of this really worth it? I’m tired of feeling undesirable… Perhaps it’s best to stay in my shell, keeping my head down and continuing to be a work-a-holic. At least I know I’m good at that and won’t get rejected.

 The academic year of 2010/2011 has been one of the toughest I have ever had to endure. I was ‘blessed’ with a class of 21 very unique students. All of whom are very different from the other, but all are interesting, strong-willed and very opinionated.

I have never had to work so hard to gain students respect and trust. I’ve had to work even harder to make the academics interesting enough for them to want to stay seated and silent long enough for me to teach the material, skills and concepts necessary.

I had thought on numerous occasions to just throw in the towel and call it quits. The money isn’t worth the daily struggle to be heard and I don’t think the students would even notice if I didn’t show up to work. I would convince myself that it wouldn’t be professional to walk away from a teaching post in the middle of an academic yea, it wouldn’t be fair to put such a burden on my colleagues  and I gave my word and being a bit old-fashioned, when I give my word, I honor it to the very end. People break their contracts and their word all the time, surely I’m not that stubborn or masochistic to want to continue to endure this? Is it something deeper or stronger that keeps me from packing up my books and resources?

I would also question my path, the direction I took in to becoming a teacher. Why, oh why!??!?! I could have been a litigator arguing my way in courtroom, a child psychologist or a woman in the corporate world making close to a six figure salary by now. Did I misread the signs? Did I miss my true calling?

For the past two days I have been hauled up alone in my apartment with infected tonsils. I’m the type of person who has to keep busy or I will start climbing the walls! I did some revision and reading for my upcoming masters course, cleaned out the fridge, vacuumed, mopped, blitzed the kitchen, cleaned the guest bedroom and moved things around to make it look homier…. Just to pass the time. I was about to start on my bedroom (again) when I came across an old file filed with some of my teaching resources and amongst the papers I came across a paper that I had printed out three years ago. It was an e-mail forward about a teacher. I’d like to share it;

“Perhaps this will cause all of us to look at those who choose the teaching profession through a different light.

The dinner guests were sitting around the table discussing life. One man, a CEO decided to explain the problem with education. He argued “What is a kid going to learn from a person who decided his best option in life was to become a teacher?”

He reminded the other guests what they said about teachers “Those who can, do. Those who can’t, teach” To stress his point he said to another dinner guest, “You’re a teacher Bonnie. Be honest what do you make?”  Bonnie who had a reputation for honesty and frankness replied. “You want to know what I make.” (She paused for a second then began)

“Well, I make kids work harder than they ever thought they could. I make a C+ feel like a Congress Medal of Honor. I make kids sit through 40 minutes at a time when their parents can’t make them sit for 5 without an iPod, Game Cube or a movie rental… You want to know what I make. (She paused and looked at each and every person around the table)

I make kids wonder

I make kids question

I make kids criticize.

I make kids apologize and mean it.

I make them respect and take responsibility for their actions.

I make my other student from other countries learn everything they need to know in English while preserving their unique cultural identity.

I make the classroom a place where all my students feel safe.

Finally, I make them understand that if they use the gifts they were given, work hard, follow their hearts they can succeed in life.

(Bonnie paused one last time)

Then when people try to judge me by what I make, I can hold my head up high and pay no attention because they are ignorant…

You want to know what I make.

I make a difference. What do you make?

There is much truth in this Teacher’s statement. Teacher’s make every other profession. “

Thanks to Don Liston, I know know who the author of the forward is; the above was written by, Taylor Mali

(end of email forward)

 Having read the above, I now know why I haven’t been able to walk away, because even thought I might not see the results of my efforts immediately, I Do Make a Difference, each and day, of every working week or every academic year. So, if people want to turn their noses up at me because I teach, that’s fine. At least I had a hand in sculpting the future… and I can sleep with a clear conscience.

I’m having one of those weeks or days where I just physically can’t convince myself to do anything after work. It’s like the motivation that I usually have to get things done has evaporated!Washing dishes seems like a tedious and exhausting task.
Do you ever feel like that?

I feel so emotionally drained right now, that i feel like there is a huge weight on my chest making it hard for me to take deep breaths, the pressure below my eyes are just as heavy. It feels as though they are both waiting for the final straw to fall for an eruption of tears to commence! It’s weird! I’m not a person who resorts to crying… I see it as a sign of weakness or wasted energy that can be used in another way. Perhaps I have reached saturation point due to the events of the past couple of months?
Do you ever feel like crying?
I am not feeling very social either if I’m going to be honest. I would much rather stay at home and be curled up under my warm duvet sleeping like a bear in hibernation for winter. Maybe I’m in a state of depression and I don’t know it.
Do you ever feel like crying without knowing why?

Greetings after a long absence! Forgive me for my lack of writing but I have been away for quite some time and have only just returned. I am presently trying to re adapt to life in Egypt as well as getting myself psychologically prepared for moving back to Cairo and going back to work! No easy task might I add.

I have lots of things I would like to share, just give me a few days to get over the exhaustion of traveling, time difference and JET LAG!

Requested and Reserved for a future issue of (in)sight Magazine 

When ever I am at a wedding a social gathering where my parent’s friend are present or seeing parents of former students one of the first question they always ask me is ‘eh inti lisa matgawizteesh?’ (you still haven’t gotten married yet?) Frankly I’m tired of it ! 

Here I am a three decades plus one year young  female who still hasn’t managed to nab herself a fish of any status or size. Here in Egypt it is considered close to tragic! I should have hooked a fish by my second year of university and been wed not long after graduation and been with child returning from the honeymoon. Being a single female at this age leaves some people to conclude one of two things. One, that there is something wrong with me if an eligible bachelor hasn’t claimed me for his own and Two, (my favorite) I’ve passed my expiry date.

 My response to that is as follows; The reason I haven’t been picked off the shelf is because I am such a rare piece that the average Joe doesn’t know how to appreciate me. I am a woman of rare substance, intellect and culture and men fear what is unfamiliar and unknown to them. Very few are man enough to step up to the plate to take a risk of actually looking past my physical appearance and getting to know what goes on in my cranium and those that do peek underneath the silky blondish brown wavy hair that sprouts from my head and falls upon my shoulders are more than often scared away because they know that I can not be their puppet and I have a mind of my own.

I won’t settle for being a prize that he shows off and parades around by his side like a Barbie doll at weddings and other social engagements. I want more and I demand to be treated as an intelligent equal of great worth.

 If there is a man who is unafraid of venturing in to the un known and would take a risk to get to know me through intellectual conversation and is capable of winning my respect, trust and lastly my affections he will be far richer than any king that we have come to know. The riches that I will bring to the table of the relationship are far more valuable than gold, gems and land put together.

 As for the question of my expiration, well, I beg to differ. With time, comes knowledge, skill and aging. The perfect process to make a bottle of mixed ethnic wine. I consider myself the wine of the universe. I age like a fine wine and improve with each passing day and year. So, I just keep getting better and better!

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