Wednesday, December 17, 2008

On childhood and firsts

first time I encountered/understood death:

I was still in preschool and on my 'Probewoche', a week that you spend at school, so they would test your capabilities and accordingly would either accept you or not. The school was close to my mother's grandmother and everyday, when I finished my two hours of doing nothing and watching other kids play, my mother would pick me up and we'd walk to her house. She had a huge shabby, mirror at the entrance and her house reeked of dust and antiquity. One day, I was asking the teacher every five seconds if it's time to go. Angryly she grabbed my hand and took me outside to the waiting parents. It wasn't time to go yet. I saw my mother's face amid the many parents. That day we didn't walk to her house. I asked my mother for the reason behind that. My mother explained to me that she's no longer on this universe, and that she's somewhere in the sky. I didn't take death as tragic. It felt very dreamy to me, to be somewhere else.

first time I learned about god:

I remember a car and trees outside the window, but I can't fit the place or context. I would most probably guess that it was Alexandria. My garndmother's maid was with us in the car. She was young, 16 i'd say. She started working there when her father, my grandmother's cook passed away. He always made us 'Kotombotom', it's a rice filled kofta type (name made up by us) that, we, the grandchildren loved and always asked for. She still makes kotombotom until this day. She always slept over at our house when our parents when out at night and she told me the most fantastical of stories, she also read me the 'maktaba el khadra' books. I remember watching the trees and asking her

"menen beyeegy el shagar, meen 3amaloh?"

"rabena. howa elly 3amel kol haga."

"howa rabena wehesh?"

"la2 matooleesh keda ghalat rabena helw we kwayes."

I remember I couldn't quite grasp the idea yet. It was above my head.

first time I saw a penis:

I was in nursery 'Prince and Queen', and I don't know why but there was only one bathroom for girls and boys, so this one day I went in and a little naked boy was running from the teacher. She wanted to teshatafo. He had a dwindling part that I didn't have. I looked at it in amazment.

first time I got bullied on:

I was sitting in the schoolyard, in one of the sandboxes, made for kindergarten children. Everyday before recess, a teacher would come and pour water out of a bucket on the sand, to make it softer yet more firm. That way, children could mould and shape the sand to create, castles, volcanoes and miniature people. I remember, that once the water is dipped children would all gather around the sticky area and chant “Balabeezo ramla balabeezo ramla” (Balabeezo: a made up children’s word ramla: sand). That day, I was out early on recess and had reserved a space in that special Balabeezo area, which was something infrequent, because everyone ran towards that area the minute the rang bell. I spent almost an hour in the sand, or that’s how my mind remembers it to be, since time can be very deceiving in its calculations, especially when you’re a kid and still don’t wear a watch on your wrist. Very engrossed in shaping the sand with my little hands, I tried to make the most beautiful of castles. I imagined how when it’s done, princesses would enter ballroom parties, with their flowing nightgowns and sparkling diamonds covering their necks and wrists and carriages would be waiting outside, with horses as white as pure snow on a crispy morning of a winter’s day. Lost in my reverie I put my hands away and stared ahead, when suddenly two feet jumped in front of me and crushed my hard work, along with the fantasy that accompanied it.

first public humiliation:

I was in Kindergarten, going home with the bus. I wanted to pee very badly, I couldn't hold it. So I went to the woman, who sits at the front of the bus and told her that I desperatly need to pee. She told me to wait. Then the bus stopped, we had reached a girl's house. The woman took me out to a garage opening and told me to pee on the floor. I didn't know what to do, though I despertaly wanted to pee I was reluctant to take off my pants in front of the whole street. But I did.

that's for you evaluna!
and yeah, I have exams and am extremly bored!

strawberry fields forever

It was never one of my favourite Beatles' songs, but I loved the part of this song in 'Across the Universe' and now I listen to it all the time.
I love strawberries, lately I eat them all the time.
A few years back I had convinced myself that I'm alleric to them, whenever there's a cake with strawberries, strawberry ice cream or even real ones I decline saying "I love strawberries but sadly I'm allergic." I believed it so much that I forgot that I actually made it up. Then one day I saw those red juicy delicious things on a plate, I couldn't resist, the temptation was just too much.
And then I thought "You're not allergic! Stupid!"
and now I eat them again.
Yesterday I read 'orz be laban le shakhsein', I loved it so much. There's no link of her blog on the book, which is weird. Does she even still blog?
For those who read my blog. Does anyone have any idea how I could find her blog?

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

some days I don't get my sister's vegetarianism.
I know I can resist meat, I can not eat meat for months even. But I can't imagine how a person would live without eating chicken!
I wonder if she ever gets chicken cravings.
I'm sure she does, but she hides it behind that vegetarianism crap facade.
sometimes I wonder how the hell we're sisters. How could I and this alien specie, come out of the same womb. Actually, I wonder how I'm parent's daughter sometime.
Actually, I question how I'm a member of my family.
Maybe I'm adopted.
hehe when I was a kid I covinced my sister that she was adopted.
"Look at us do you see any resemblance?" I told her
she believed me and went crying to my mother.
I love red nail polish
it's sexyyy
I'm typing with red nail polish and I'm liking it
today while walking and looking at my shadow I realized that my shadow is hot
I know it's stupid
it's weird that when I look in the mirror I see a disheveled, messy girl who needs to comb her hair and wear something that fits together
but my shadow looks totally different
it's hot!

Friday, December 12, 2008

it's that age now *puke*

it's so scary that I'm turning 21 in a few months
my father told me yesterday that their friend tant I don't know who... well. actually I do know her... anyway, she has a Arees for me. I told my dad, no thanks. I told him, I can't believe you're actually asking me that. and that's how he replied "so what are you going to do with your life" or something... and the thing is he's not like that at alll I don't even know how he could utter something like that. "I'm going to live and Japan and study film that's what I'm going to do," I answered. But seriously? the same woman told my mom she has someone for me last year. What the hell. but last time I actually told my mom that I want to meet him because I wanted to experience meeting that person who's a potential spouse type of thing heheh. I knew I was going to turn it down anyway but I wanted to know how it would be like. But my sister told my mother about my hidden intentions "shofty bentek el motakhalefa 3ayza te3mel eih?" type of thing. Of course my mon wouldn't let me even though I convinced her that I actually do have the option to say no I'm not interested! so it's ok and stuff. But she kept telling me how "awlad el nas mesh le3ba" and stuff... blablabla
I'm entering that age, of the grandmothers' nagging, the parents' friends interfering and the 'sympathy' look if I don't get married within the next 5 years. It's disgusting and it's only gonna get worsr from here.

Saturday, December 6, 2008

Stupid me!

I do the stupidest things sometimes.
out of whim
and they're always always unthought of.
isn't it weird how you can not stand someone for more than 5 minutes
but still be fond of them
and miss them sometimes at certain instances
well I feel that
and then I act upon it
and nowww
noww I got this message of 'you told me it's better not to talk so please explain' and stuff
how can I explain this
how can I explain myself
that sometimes I get the urge to call or text someone
and I do
even if I'm not supposed to
how can I explain that it means nothing
and that it actually doesn't mean I want to talk with this person again
I think people should stop trying to analyze me
because everything I do is out of pure urge of the moment
that is why my actions are always very contadictory
anyway I'm babbling here
but I have no idea how to reply
sometimes I wonder why I am ME!
it can be really really exhausting sometimes

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

My grandmother reads the quraan every morning. When you open the cover, if you're not cautious enough, photographs of her children and grandchildren fall down. She tells me that she protects us by keeping our photographs inside. She thinks of me a lot when during her sacred morning ritual, that's what she tells me at least. I used to be her favourite grandchild once. When she was bedridden due to an accident she's had, I was her consoling companion. I don't remember of course. I was a year old. Now I don't visit her as much. Everytime she sees me, she reminds of that month I stayed with her. Every morning, when the light starts streaming through the little space between the blinds and the widow, she pulls open every curatin in the house and tells her plants to wake up. I have to fill the house with nour rabena, she says. She tells me her plants understand and that they need to be cheered up daily or else, they'd become depressed. She phases out all the time and stares ahead, lost in her own little reverie. They tell me I remind them of her in different ways.

My grandfather eats a banana every single day after lucnh followed by a mini kitkat. He looks at the clock every 5 seconds. He only loves those who cheer for ahly, golf are engineers or related to the Rotary in any way. Everytime I go over he asks me about my grades and if I got a 1. He's still not over the fact that I graduated and that it's an A now, not 1. He lived in germany for 20 years. When I play a game of bagammon with him, I feel uneasy. I'm crappy at it but sometimes luck strikes me. He hates to lose. He never does. But I'm always uneasy. He likes to spend his summer in marbella, spain and when he's not there he does nothing but talk about it. About Fernando's Mossolito's and Picasso's pasta.

My grandmother wanted to take Sanish lessons there. He didn't want her to. He wanted her by his side, every second. He has a square shaped face, straight lips and a loud laugh.
My grandmother carries around a book of 'how to learn spanish'. When I told her I'm learning japanese she asked me, why not spanish?

I know this post is very subjective
but it's how I feel