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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.

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 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 have heard time and time again how are people to know what you want if you don’t speak up and ask for it. I have to be totally honest, I can’t argue with that. As much as I would like people to be able to read my thoughts as well as understand the workings of my very odd and somewhat complicated mind, they can’t, so, I have no choice but to speak up and ask for what I want. In Paulo Coelho’s book ‘The Alchemist’ and Rhonda Byrne’s, best-selling book that tells of “The Secret’ they say that ‘The Universe Is Conspiring To Work In Your Favor’ you just need to ask for what you want in a positive way and the universe will work its magic and in time, it will have it sent to you when every thing is aligned and it’s meant to be yours. ( I even have a few vison/dream boards to help me visualise what I want)

I have to admit that it has worked in my favor many times from the smallest thing like a parking spot to the job I have been dreaming of! Each time I receive what ever it is I have asked for, I make sure that I express my sincere gratitude for receiving what has been granted. Having said that there are 2 things I am still waiting on… 1) my books to be published  and 2)  to meet or be introduced to my life partner. In the past I have had the worst luck when it comes to romance! I’ve seen and experienced so much I would have the right to swear off men completely but I still have hope and a little faith left that I will get it right the next time. Although the experiences I have gone through have been enough to turn ones blood cold and cause great heartache, I have learned a valuable lesson from each and every one of them. I have learned to recognize those who are genuine in their affections and those who are only around for a bit of fun and to pass the time until another damsel catches their eye. The genuine ones are becoming fewer these days and are rare to find.

So, if all I have to do is ask, then so be it; I have a lot to gain and nothing to lose by simply asking politely

Dear Universe grant me the following if you please;

I would be eternally gratefully if you could orchestrate for an honest, reputable and professional illustrator and publishing house to show interest in my children’s books and offer me a book deal. I would like to be able to share the Egyptian culture that is part of my heritage with the rest of the world and show it through the eyes and lives of the characters in my books. With that a small handsome fortune that will assist me in taking care and looking after my parents.

My parent’s are comforted with the fact that their youngest daughter has found the man she wishes to spend the rest of her life with. They would also like to see me settled too while they are still able to dance to a beat. The man I am looking for first and foremost must be single and eligible! He has to be one of good family values, he needs to have sterling manners socially and at the table, he needs to be a man of intellect, one who is comfortable in his own skin and whom can speak and read Arabic and English very well (if he can speak more than 2 languages that is a plus). He must possess a sense of humour and finds enjoyment in music, movies and dancing. He needs to be responsible, respectable and successful at his job. He needs to be a man who is honest, genuine, kind, faithful, understanding, flexible and generous emotionally as well as financially.A man who is willing to help out around the house and have a hand in raising our children. I need a man who can appreciate me for who I am and who can understand my multicultural background as well as my liberal way of thinking and living. A man who is ready to settle down and have a family and to be a partner in the marriage as well as a good father.  If this man could be of mixed ethnicity, tall, with broad shoulders, fit physic, good-looking, have nice teeth, nice hands, nails and feet, with warm smiling eyes and good health, I would be very thankful.

Please grant my sister and her husband a healthy, happy and prosperous life together. May they always be blessed.

Please grant my parents health, laughter, joy, love and sound minds in the years that are to come.

Please help the people of Egypt, Libya, Bahrain and Syria find the strength to regain control of their country and take back their identities. Guide them to a brighter, happier, prouder and prosperous future.

As you know universe, I love food! The tantalizing flavours and their many combinations are delicious. I have been successful these past few months in controlling myself and I am very proud and pleased with my accomplishments thus far, but if you could continue to help fuel my will power to reach my target weight and the image that I am aiming to achieve that would be grand!

Please continue to guide me a long life’s path and shine your light down on it to help me see the way, continue to show me the signs that I need to take note of so that I may continue on the course that I’m meant to take.

Universe, I would like to thank you for the small and big opportunities that you have brought my way. My life and career has been blossoming and moving in the direction that I had and continue to visualise for myself. I have been able to pay for my teaching certificate and masters without any financial aid or assistance. I have earned a reputation as an active, caring, creative and animated teacher. You have brought people of great value and friendship in to my life and have blessed me with a loving and caring family. I have grown to be a strong opinionated independent woman. You have opened the door for me in the field of writing and I have had many articles published in magazines. The list is endless and I am humbled by your generosity, thank you.

N.B The Image for my blog post was found at; http://www.photography-match.com/wallpapers/6862_digital_universe_189/

If you have been reading my blog or following me on twitter you know that I have either sniffed out another rat or blown a chance at yet another potential relationship! So, for the past few days I have been feeling a bit like a looser and torturing myself with my automatic mind replay of events and conversations, trying to pinpoint something I might have said or did to contribute to turning him off. I think another reason for the unnecessary torture is because I’m on vacation and have nothing to occupy my time with and secondly after my last ‘real’ relationship, I stayed off the field for quite some time and now that I want to get back in the game and end the soon to be four-year run of being single, I am disappointed that things didn’t work out. Yesterday, a colleague and friend at work unbeknownst to her sent me at the right time to lift my spirit. The message read;
SINGLE is not a status. It is a word that best describes a person who’s strong enough to live and enjoy life without depending on others…
I really needed that! To my colleague and friend, you know who you are, Thank you.

Monday 6th of February 2011

I am so excited! I am finally going to see my family. I have been thinking of every possible way to get to them ever since my friend was evacuated. The railway lines have stopped working and the roads out of Cairo had been closed too. The airport is over crowded with people trying to leave the country and there’s a strong possibility that their aren’t any flights.

I had done most of my packing last night but there are still a few items that I need to put in the put in the bag, but I have to wait for Meeza to wake up.

I am feeling very torn. I have formed a close bond with my host, (No….that’s not right), my surrogate family and I don’t want to leave them. I have enjoyed my time here with them, gotten to know them more and feel like I’m apart of the family. I dread to think what state I would be in, if I hadn’t come to stay with them and decided to tough it out on my own. Without their company, I’m sure I would have reached some level of insanity. Becs family will always have a special place in my heart for opening their home to me.

Bec’s Mum insists that I share breakfast with her. I’m not really hungry and I have been working exceptionally hard at reaching a target weight for my sister’s wedding in April, (Operation Megan Fox). I know it’s a silly thing to be worrying about in times like these, but God willing if all goes well, her wedding will proceed as scheduled and I won’t hate myself for not looking my best and being fit for the special occasion. So, I am adamant that I am going to remain focused on eating lots of fruits and vegetables, grilled meats and drink an excessive amount of water, Revolution or not! (would this make me stubborn or very determined?)

At around 11am my father arrives, I am so glad to see him. I waste no time in embracing him at the door and kissing his cheeks. I notice that he looks tired but a wave of relief washes over his face when he sees me. My father and I don’t see eye to ey very often and with us being stubborn and control freaks, we often but heads and clash, but with that put a side, he is my Dad, I love him to pieces and I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to see him.

My Dad comes in to the house for no longer than twenty minutes. We can’t delay our departure due to heavy traffic caused by blocked off roads and protests. We also have to be back in Alexandria before curfew time. My Dad thanks Bec’s parents and as a small gesture of my families appreciation and gratitude for all they have done for me he gives them a bottle of Whiskey and a big box of sweet dates. I in turn hug both Bec’s parents and thank them and promise to come and see them as soon as I am back and settled again.

As soon as we are in the car we have to make a stop at my house to pay the landlord the rent and so that I can drop some unwanted items and collect more clothes (who knows how long the current situation is going to last).

As we approach my street, which is a big military area, I notice a crowd of twenty or more people near the Military Hotel, Triumph. I wonder what they are all doing sitting around staring at the Military compound’s huge metal gates. My father must have caught my gaze or read my mind and informs me that the people are waiting to see their loved ones that had been recaptured by neighborhood watch and military me as they were trying to loot the nearby areas. Upon hearing this slightly disturbing piece of information, I couldn’t help but feel relieved that I had followed my instincts and made the decision to go and stay with Bec’s and his family. The thought of having the escapees that have been causing fear and havoc in the city held across the street from my building, was not in the least bit comforting.

As soon as the car came to a halt, I waste no time in going in to my building and up to my apartment to leave an un-needed bag and gather some other belongings. I am whirling around the place like the Tazmanian Devil from the famous Warner Brother’s Cartoons. I am trying to be as quick as possible so that the echos of the last night spent in the apartment don’t come back to me. The feeling of being in my flat is an odd one. It is familiar and yet alien at the same time. ‘I hope to see you again soon’ I say to it before I close the door and lock it before taking the elevator back down to rejoin my father and the hired driver to head back to Alexandria.

During the drive out of the city my father ask me questions about the safety situation in Heliopolis, the sight of the barbed wires across the street and the tanks pointing outwards to wards the road. He tells me of events and situations that have taken place in Alexandria. That with in the first two days after the prisoners escaped from prison, the people guarding our street caught fourteen ‘baltageya’ (thugs/looters). He told me that other areas of Alexandria are experiencing much worse and that I know for a fact. My friend Shamel has been calling me daily telling me about his nightly watch and the amount of firing and killing that had been going on. Although I am living it, hearing it and experiencing it, my mind still has a difficult time accepting and believing that this is happening to us here in Egypt. It just boggles my mind! How did things spiral out of control so quickly? What lies ahead for all of us? Is it going to get worse? Will things ever get better? It is hard to tell…

At the Cairo toll gate leading to the desert road armored vehicles stand guard with their guns pointed at the center of the road. By the wayside, stolen, crashed and torched cars had been confiscated ownerless as you pass by the toll gate. For the past week we have been hearing horror stories of people’s cars being run off the road, cars being hijacked, robberies, rapes and killings along the desert road. On all the occasions I have driven back and forth on this road, I have never been so alert and watchful of every movement, car and person.

To stop at a rest house to use the toilet, gas up or buy something to eat is too risky and dangerous. Some of the escaped convicts are still on the loose and nobody wants to take any chances. The busy rest stops are empty, which is a strange sight because they are usually bursting at the seams with business, but now only the gas stations have clients. My father told me that he had stopped at one of the gas stations on the way and when he entered to building the owner was sat with a machine gun and bullets across his chest, the smell of freshly baked fiteer was absent in the air and the bustling of the waiters bringing the customers no longer existed.

We finally reach Alexandria after a two and a half hour drive, the security at the toll gate is more intense that the Cairo toll gate. There are more cars and the traffic is worse. Getting to the city is difficult, there is a hold up of some kind. We find out that the congestion is caused by a bus accident and large puddles of water.

As we pass by Carrefour City Center (a big shopping complex) there dozens of confiscated stolen cars parked on the side as you pass the shopping area. There are huge tanks and armoured vehicles positioned there too.

After two weeks of wanting to be with my family and a two and a half hour drive, I am finally home. I take my bags out of the car, get in to the elevator and press the button. The ride up seems to take longer than usual. “Hurry up!! I want to hug my Mum and sister!” As I finally reach my floor, I can see my mother’s silhouette through the glass with her arms spread wide ready to embrace me as I step out. I yank out the bags and drop them at her feet and just squeeze her tightly, while breathing in her motherly scent. There is nothing as warm or comforting as a mother’s embrace.

As I walk over the threshold of the apartment, my sister comes to greet me in the foyer of the apartment and we hug.  It is so good to be home and with family. They look well but tired from all the stress and constant worrying about their safety, the state of the country and me. At least now, they have one less thing to worry about. I am here, safe and sound with them.

We retire to the sitting room and talk for hours while pausing mid conversation every so often to hear the latest news up dates.

By 9pm I can no longer keep my yes open and got to bed.

I am home at last.

It has been almost a month since I last posted something on my blog. It isn’t due to lack of interest or something to say…it’s due to over saturation of events past and present that are preventing me from expressing myself clearly. I have tried to sit down many times to continue typing up and posting my Diary entries during the 18 days of the revolution, but reliving it whilst still going through the post revolution events was getting to be too much for my mind and my emotions to handle. To add to the turmoil neighboring countries to Egypt, Algeria, Libya, Bahrain …etc are going through similar if not worse circumstances and to relive the past with the present became too much for me to cope with.

Messages from Family members, friends and readers whom have been reading the entries and following me on twitter have encouraged me to keep writing and posting. They say that my entries paint a clear picture for them from a person who is actually living in the country. So, I will try to work through the daily distractions of current events here and in the neighboring countries to get my story written and posted.

God Bless

Wednesday, 2nd of February 2011

In the early hours of this morning Mubarak addressed the nation and said that he would not run for president in September and will change the government.
The speech sounded reasonable, but something told me that things weren’t going to go down well with the protesters or the public.

Later that morning Becs and I decided to walk from his house near the Baron Palace to Korba to buy a few things and stretch our legs. I don’t know how inmates or animals in the zoo adapt or cope to being kept indoors for hours on end! I just can’t stand being in doors for 17 hours a day! It’s enough to drive you loopy!! All of this because of the curfew hours that have been set. It’s enough to cause cabin fever or claustrophobia!
I needed to be out doors, smell the cleanish air, walk around, do something different.
The feeling of being cooped up brought back memories of when my family and I took the last ferry-boat leaving Jeddah to Suez after the invasion of Kuwait in the 90s. Three days locked in the First Class floor because passengers who couldn’t get cabins were sleeping on the deck and the crew didn’t want them coming in doors. I don’t think I’ve ever been so bored in my life!

Walking in Heliopolis you would find it hard to believe that there was anything going on in the country, it’s relatively peaceful and quite. The presence of the armed army vehicles that were stationed at several important government building made it real.
Walking was refreshing, I could feel the blood circulating through my body again but as we approached the center of Korba I grew sad. People walking out of stores with boxes and bags full of provisions incase there is a food or water shortage. The traffic in Korba made things feel less out of the ordinary but seeing the store windows blacked out or empty and fast food restaurants and café’s with barricaded doors just brings everything crashing down again. Is this really happening? How long will this last? How long can we as a nation endure this? Will the government be heartless and not give in to the people’s demands? Is their intention to make people starve?
The line for the ATM machine is just as long as the queue from the local ‘Forn’ (which means oven, but it’s where you can buy (I believe) the subsidized cheep bread from)

As we walk around trying to find bottle of water to drink, Becs notices that his phone was sending him facebook notifications. He thinks his eyes are deceiving him so he asks a man waiting his turn to go in to a café if the net is back. He says yes it, the signal is weak, but it’s getting stronger. YES! The government took heed and listened to foreign delegates requesting that communication be re-instated!! What a relief, we can now communicate freely with the world again. Well, almost freely, I’m sure that twitter and facebook are being very closely monitored by Egypt’s Secret Service. I guess, I have to choose my words wisely or I’ll end up on their most wanted list.
Nal, my friend in D.C will be thrilled she won’t have to call us daily to check up on us and can communicate through social media. I call my sister to tell her to see if the net is up and running in Alexandria.

I try sending people a text message, but mobile phone services haven’t fully been reinstated yet.
To keep ourselves entertained at home we buy a couple of packets of cake mix, eggs and chocolate to make icing from scratch. Marie Antoinette’s quote of ‘Let them eat cake’ was sounding in my head for some odd reason. Well, if I can’t go to the protests I may as well make cake.
Back at home, I waste no time in yanking out my laptop, setting it up, plugging it in and getting connected with the world-wide web. HOW I HAVE MISSED YOU! I busy myself reading e-mails and messages of support and concern from family and close friends. I answer every single one of them. My sister has tagged me in  the album of newly uploaded pictures and I am horrified. The scenes of last Friday in front of the building where my parents and sister live is harrowing. The clouds of tear gas, the bus and the Muhfza (governors building) a blaze. I can’t begin to relate to the horror or the fear that must have been pulsing through them at the time.Pictures of a looted and semi destroyed Carrefour in Alexandria is also very disturbing. You hear tales about places that have been looted but when you see the photos of familiar places, it really hits home.
In the midst of replying to messages, Bec’s family switch from a movie to the news and we are horrified at the images that are being brought to us from Tahrir Square. It looks like a re-enactment of one of the war scenes from the film, Braveheart. When the Scots are fighting the British to gain independence, but this wasn’t fake, it was very real. Men and women claiming to be ‘Pro-Mubarak’ supporters in Tahrir armed and attacking the protesters, but wait what’s that men on camel and horse back as well? What the hell is going on? How did this happen? Who could condone such savage and violent behavior? Protest and speak your mind, pro Mubarak or not, but attacking people and throwing cocktail bombs is just not on!
The Irish/Sa3eedi (Saeedi is what we call people from Upper Egypt, like the Newfie in Canada) blood in me was boiling; the urge to fight back was rising. I want to be there to defend, take a stand, fight and protect those that are there trying to reform a country for the well-being of the people. The majority have been peaceful, helpful and respectful and these hooligans are just being darn right barbaric!
This escalates the urgency ! Things are going from bad to worse! I HAVE TO DO SOMETHING!!! My host family will not let me leave and my family will crucify me if I go, so the only thing left to do is what I do well and that is, write!
Let me tell the world and anyone that is will to read or listen about what is going on in Egypt through my eyes.So, I begin to type until the late hours of the night.

I’ll be damned if i don’t do anything at all! If I can’t be on the ground, I will do my part some other way!

I don’t have pictures taken in Tahrir Square or of violence that had taken place. They are pictures of things I have seen and witnessed myself.

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=251636&id=512092363&l=3c7b154c57

A week a go today, in Zamalek, a solidarity concert was being held at the Sakkia El Sawy Cultural Wheel to raise money for the victims of the explosions in Alexandria.
It was organized and put together by the cast members of the newly released Arabic movie, Microphone, directed and written by Ahmad Abdalla.
The MC for the night was the very talented and well spoken Khaled AbulNaga. When he took the stage he spoke of the unfortunate event of New Years Eve in Alexandria and of the ‘Egyptians’ who had unjustly been taken from their families and lost their lives.
He asked all the attendees as a sign of respect to turn off their mobile phones and anything else that had a light and would be of a distraction while we gazed upon the faces that we had lost in a minute of silence, as their photographs appeared and faded off and on to the screen. It was heart wrenching to see the faces looking out in to the audience. When the minute had passed Abul Naga continued to talk to the crowd of supporters and said ‘I hope that we can come together and stop this from happening again. This was a slap in our faces, a wake up call to stop the seeds that have been sown and growing over a long period of time. What happened was not God’s will, it was the terrorists and their interpretation of God’s will.” As the actor spoke out in to the crowd he was greeted by a mix of reactions. Some people hung their heads in sadness; some had tears welling up in their eyes, while others nodded in agreement. “Egyptians have been around long before any religion came to be’ he continued ‘ “I Am Egyptian” was a phrase used not only to identify where you were from, back then it was a feeling, it was a state of being” The brothers and sister’s that we lost were Egyptians, they were one of us”. This statement was received with applause, cheers and with members of the audience repeating the phrase ‘Ana Masri”, (which means, I am Egyptian).
He went on to explain that the money from the tickets and the half the price of the solidarity t-shirts were to go to the victims of the attack, he encouraged everyone to buy a t-shirt before the night was over.
From there the majority of the bands that appeared in the movie Microphone took turns coming on stage to perform in front of the Egyptians who came to stand in solidarity. I stayed to just before the end. I can tell you that the ambiance although relaxed was a roller coaster of emotions for the musicians and the viewers. The performances were well put together, but one song stood out the most. I didn’t catch the singer’s name, but he moved everyone to tears with the song that he sang and the emotion that he put in to it. He himself had tears running down his face as he sang out the words that there is no difference between Muslim’s and Christians. When his song came to and end the audience had fallen silent and were just blown away by the lyrics as well as the performance that no one could speak. When they did come out of their trance like state they not only applauded, whistled and cheered they demanded an encore! The artist, although drained and out of breath, granted their request and sang it again, with even more gusto and emphasis than his first performance. It was, a moment to witness.
Between each band members of the cast or other fellow supporters from the entertainment industry took the mike to say a few words and to encourage everyone to help put an end to sectarianism. I just hope and pray that those attended took their words to heart and truly understood the fight that we are up-against, because if we do not stand as a united front, this will undoubtedly happen again and I fear the devastation will be on a much larger scale.
I would like to extend my gratitude to the cast of Microphone, for being so quick to respond to the aid of my fellow Egyptians and Alexandrians. I would also like to applaud them for taking the initiative and setting an example for their country men and women.

If you would like to see pictures taken at the concert, go to The Irish Alexandrian group on facebook;

http://www.facebook.com/home.php#!/group.php?gid=217138771946

Some of you may actually know him, while others of you may follow his tweets or blog ‘Not Hungry Cuz I Ate’. What many people don’t know about this talented and very ambitious young chef is that he’s actually a doctor. Yes, you read the last sentence correctly, I said, doctor!
I know some people find it incomprehensible that someone would give up medicine to work in a kitchen, when they could be treating patients and charging the earth for consultations or checkups. Well Sam did.
Which I’m sure is raising another question, ‘WHY?!” I’m not going to lie to you, I asked myself the same question but then decided that the only person who could answer it, would be him. His response was honest and to the point, “I don’t like patients”.
If you think about it many parents persuade or direct their children in to a line of profession that they don’t necessarily want to do or enjoy. For Sam to come to that realization early on and know what his passion is and what he wants to do with his life is quite admirable.
For those of you who don’t live in the region, you may be shrugging your shoulders to say ‘so, what’s the big deal?” In the Middle East being a doctor, engineer or businessman are the top 3 careers that parents want their sons and daughters to be apart of. Being a chef isn’t something that is held in high regard here, which is something I find quite funny, because there are chefs who earn a handsome living.
Ever since I’ve known Sam, I have been impressed with his intellect, wit and knowledge of herbs, flavors and meat cuts. We have had many conversations where we have discussed many recipes, cooking technique and sauces.
In 2010, Sam informed us that he was a chef in a very reputable restaurant in Maadi. A few friends of mine and I went to ‘The Cellar Door’ for a meal to test Sam’s culinary skills in a restaurant. As we walked in to the restaurant we came face to face with our friend in his chef’s coat, talking to the diners and asking them how they enjoyed their meal. When he saw us come in, it looked like he got a bit nervous because we would be some of his toughest critics, especially because we all know how to cook well and have high standards when it comes to pleasing our palates.
We all ordered a range of appetizers, main dishes and deserts. I have to admit that our two-and-a-half hour journey to the restaurant across the city and through traffic was worth every bite. My mushroom, rocket salad with apple was different and enjoyable. My main dish was chicken with a Moroccan twist to it. The chicken breast was rested on a bed of perfect raisin risotto – I was in poultry heaven and would have licked the plate clean if I hadn’t been in a restaurant! Although the recipe wasn’t one of Sam’s, he did oversee the preparation of it that night. To end my dining experience at the cellar door I order the chocolate raspberry mouse cake. The combination of the two flavors complimented each other perfectly and it was as sweet as ones first kiss. My friends whom I accompanied to the restaurant were just as pleased with their dining experience. We did have a few suggestions on how to tweak a few of the dishes and Sam listened intently and appreciated the honest criticism.
Since we visited him at the Cellar Door, he has since moved to the ever popular Cairo Jazz Club, where he is the Executive Chef and is revolutionizing their menu and coming up with some new dishes to add to a brand new menu and improving on the ones that they have. Not too long ago on twitter I cam across a tweet that had been posted by someone who mentioned how great the steaks were at CJC and that they rivaled a famous steak house here in Cairo.
I am planning on paying him a visit at his new place soon to taste and try out his latest creations as soon as it’s on the menu and available to the general public.
So, if you happen to be at Cairo Jazz Club and feel a bit peckish, I recommend that you order something from the menu to go with your drink and the great music, to make the whole experience complete.

P.S just a reminder, you can follow both NotHungryCuzI8 and IrishAlexandria on twitter.