17^th Oct., 2009

Atbara (north), I was not very excited about going there because they told me the weather is hot and there is nothing to see there but the Nile. But I found out that it is not just the Nile. Some of Atbara’s streets have Beautiful leafy trees which reminded me of Maadi – except that the former is much wider. They have all kinds of trees – tall, short, big, small, neat and trees that forgot to comp their hair :) Then off we went to the Nile – the widest I saw! And on the other side, it’s ALL green. We all sat on the bank and had a fruity breakfast and gabna (traditional Sudanese coffee) – peacefully blissful. Reluctantly, I left to finish today’s work and told my colleagues that we will be heading to the Nile when we are done. (Side note: I wonder if people do what I want because they love me, they are nice or because I am demanding!)

When we were done with our work, it was around 45 mins before sunset. Before leaving the hotel, I heard some buzz among the women I was working with, amazed looks on their faces. And the reason was that it was RAINING (YES!). It NEVER rains in October but I think when you want something bad enough, and you wish for it with all your heart, it just happens :) “Yalla yalla, we have to run to the Nile” was my hurrying voice. It was not raining heavily and the mighty river had small, running waves. I sat there, enjoyed the little dusty and rainy storm. Then a police officer dismissed us from the bank because it was almost dark. We strolled in the wide streets enjoying the mild rains and the big, old trees. We found a modest café where we sat and ordered gabana again. Then it started raining heavily. My colleagues took some shade while I sat, opened the palm of my hands, rested them on my knees, and closed my eyes. When my clothes became soaked, I felt that shiver that I miss so much. I remained silent and listened with my heart to what rains had to tell me.

18^th Oct., 2009

A quick review of Atbara trip made me reach the conclusion that I am not a dull, boring person after all :) I like exploring new stuff (I rode “tok tok” for the first time in my life!), I absolutely enjoy seeing new places but two things have to be secured to have peace of mind and heart for me; safety and insects-free places. Well, I have to admit I was very restless and almost terrified in the “tok tok”; had to clutch to the back of the front seat imagining that I’ll fall off the open sides at any moment but luckily the experience went well. In fact, the second time I rode it, I enjoyed the open vehicle compared to the imprisoning cars. Now I am thinking how would it feel like going to work every day by bicycle!

My first trip to Sudan last July was not the most exciting thing I did in 2009. The best thing about it was the hotel! Ah, and the rains – it rained once for five hours and it just quenched my ever-thirsty soul. When I heard that I am to travel again to Sudan, I was the least excited. So, I packed my suitcase for 17 days and put all the sanitizers I could put my hands on.

 

13^th October, 2009,

kassala (east), almost 8 hours away from Al Khartoum. Such a distance for person suffering from motion sickness is as scary as a sliding on the back of dinosaur to height phobic people! Luckily, I tried a new medication and I enjoyed the bliss of feeling …nothing :) The road was mostly entertaining, if we leave the part about my poor knees being bent for 8 hours. We passed through herds of camels, sheep and cows. Big and small ponds were scattered along the road with short trees on the edges. When we reached Kassala, I found big beautiful mountains coloured by the sun and shades of clouds. That was a sight to see. As for the hotel, it was okay. Apart from two unidentified insects on my bed, a few ants on the floor, a small cockroach and a big flying one that landed a meter away from me, everything was under control! I had neck cramps because I bolted my head inside my body as a tortoise does inside its shell because of the “black helicopter” raiding my room on a low flying level. Screaming and calling for a colleague to take the monster down was not such a bad thing to do. Ah, and I cannot forget the bed; it played the most inharmonious symphony of zee2 zee2 zeeeee2 when I tossed and turned on it. But generally, I found the city much livelier than Al Khartoum.

 

14^th October, 2009,

Today, after finishing the work we were doing here we headed to the mountains. “I am wearing the wrong shoes,” I thought. We climbed a bit, took a few photos and then enjoyed some good Sudanese coffee with ginger (that is the reason of my not being able to sleep till now – 1:30 AM). I saw a goat roaming a few meters away. I have to admit I have a soft spot for goats – yes, I do! They are kind and naïve and they have such lovely noses and ears. I once tried to convince my sister to let me get her kids a baby goat as a gift. Well, she accepted but told me she’ll just have to make me, the kids and the goat sleep all together – in the balcony!) Back to the mountain goat, she looked really free and I liked it. I turned my head for a second and suddenly there was something sniffing my feet! Of course the quiet setting was disturbed with my jump and scared to death face! I love animals. I do… just from a distance. The night has fallen quickly and, as always, I raised my head to the sky and… there it was the most starry night. No artificial lights, just stars. I did not want to leave L

The following day, on our way back to Khartoum, I was lucky enough to be sitting just behind the driver (who turned to be Egyptian). He told us that at a certain point in the road we will see monkeys – they wait for the bus to throw them some food. And there they were – around 10 monkeys approaching the bus and looking at us with that “show me the food” look :) First time to see monkeys outside Giza zoo. That was something to see :)

Looking at that trip to Kasala, I am surprised at myself! I went to Basata before. It is very primitive but I was not as scared and frightened as I was during this Kasala trip. Was it because Basata was still “Egypt”, because it was by the sea so you do not see many insects (rather crab), or because hygienically, Basata was much better? I do not know! But the good thing about it is that  I am re-assured about a few stuff about myself; I am not a safaris person. I like taking calculated adventures/risks. I do not like dry lands! I am not a land person at all. I think that’s why I would never enjoy desert trips (I can get serenity and peacefulness by the sea, you know). When I am in the desert, I am constantly looking for water. The only thing that would make me endure the land is rains, ponds, lakes, rivers or the like. I prefer a water space where I do not see the other side but ponds and rivers are better than nothing at all. I wish I could move out of Cairo (sigh).

                                                                                                                                    To be continued…

“اسْتَجِيبُوا لِرَبِّكُمْ مِنْ قَبْلِ أَنْ يَأْتِيَ يَوْمٌ لاَ مَرَدَّ لَهُ مِنَ اللَّهِ مَا لَكُمْ مِنْ مَلْجَأٍ يَوْمَئِذٍ وَمَا لَكُمْ مِنْ نَكِيرٍ“

It is 2:00 AM. And I am working.. and probably still have 3 hours of work! The buzz of the water pumper is deafening. I do not want it to rain now. I want it to be cold… like 12 C cold. I want to put my coat on, my light coloured scarf around my neck, tuck my hands in my pockets, wear my high heels boots and walk in the old, empty streets of Cairo. I do not feel like talking. I want to be alone or with someone who would not find my silence unbearable.

I am needing love, and I am fearing love. I got used to my being alone that I am sick of it.

Mmm… It is not needing love per se. I need someone to walk with. Yes, someone to walk with. To silently walk with. Someone whose sheer presence is enough to give me strength, hope and light. Someone whose very normal “just thought of saying saba7 el foll” sms is enough to make me endure whatever comes from the world. Someone whose rhythmic sound of breathing soothes away all the horns and shrieks that fill my ears throughout the day. I used to say: “I want someone to care for, love and even fight with.” Now, all I want is to sit beside someone, rest my head on his shoulder and exhale.

Moonz (the boss)… she doesn’t like being called “boss”. She is our Spiritometer and our FULL MOON :)

Siksik (a.k.a Batout).. her laughter is enough to dispel any glooms around. A fellow strong girl that always makes me feel good.

Daisy.. the quiet girl that turned out to be so powerful that she scares our Research Director ;)

Nemo, blended in the team as if she’s been there since it all started. Beautiful inside out :)

And finally, Rury.. used to be 2otta meghamada.. now she’s the naughtiest (and always à la mode) girl in the team ;) My younger sister more than a colleague.

Do you know now why I look forward to going to work every day? I have the BEST team ever :)

——

Pic designed by the boss ;)

 

صديقتي العزيزة جداً جداُ روو (المعروفة أحياناً برحاب رجائي :)) .. تم نشر قصة قصيرة لها في مجموعة قصصية صدرت مؤخراً عن التكية. قصة روو عنوانها “تائه لا أبالي”. كتابات رحاب إما مثيرة للجدل جداً (لدرجة إني بابقى عايزة “أغُزَها” ساعات :)) أو حميمية جداً لدرجة إنها بتلمس الواحد من جوا قوي. ا

الكتاب متواجد في عمر ستور (وسط البلد) وفي كل منافذ توزيع أخبار اليوم. ا

ألف مبروك يا روو :) عقبال كتاب كامل بإسمك يا رب :)ا

This is one of the “I love you” notes that my very much adorable 7-year old nephew Saif creates for me :) He left me this one on my pillow :)

P.S.: “Miss Mayada” because I teach him English :)

For some reason, Pecola from The Bluest Eye by Tony Morison is haunting me these days. She was a black child who wanted to exchange her eyes for blue ones – metaphorically, a desire to change her identity. I always wanted to have “lighter-colored” eyes. Do I want a “lighter” identity? Is it weighing down upon me? I think it is! I need to let go of the so many worries and thoughts that burden my mind and heart. I need to be less obsessed with plans, crazier, and more accepting of people as they are without trying to change anything in them.

I would give my heart away… for a fresh one.

A few days ago, I read this and I could not stop thinking about it. Then a few moments ago I remembered when that special person from the past used to tell me how I looked absolutely beautiful when I cried – something that stunned me at first because I always thought I looked so horrible with my reddish nose and wet eyelashes. I just could not understand how he saw me beautiful then. Was it love? Or there is something magical about crying? I think it is both, no? Love makes you see things in your partner that s/he doesn’t see in her/himself. And crying brings out the soul; no reddish nose or curled mouth is seen. The soul with its distress and vulnerability are brought to the foreground to show how much we’re in need for others, and how much we’re all beautiful from within even though we sometimes put gray shades on this beauty. But it is still there. And it takes something as powerful, yet simple, as crying to bring it to the light.

When you feel like crying, don’t hold it back. It melts the masterfully built masks we constantly wear to look all very strong and invincible.

Beethoven Love Letters – The Third Letter

 Good morning, on July 7

Though still in bed, my thoughts go out to you, my Immortal Beloved, now and then joyfully, then sadly, waiting to learn whether or not fate will hear us – I can live only wholly with you or not at all – Yes, I am resolved to wander so long away from you until I can fly to your arms and say that I am really at home with you, and can send my soul enwrapped in you into the land of spirits – Yes, unhappily it must be so – You will be the more contained since you know my fidelity to you. No one else can ever possess my heart – never – never – Oh God, why must one be parted from one whom one so loves. And yet my life in V is now a wretched life – Your love makes me at once the happiest and the unhappiest of men – At my age I need a steady, quiet life – can that be so in our connection? My angel, I have just been told that the mailcoach goes every day – therefore I must close at once so that you may receive the letter at once – Be calm, only by a calm consideration of our existence can we achieve our purpose to live together – Be calm – love me – today – yesterday – what tearful longings for you – you – you – my life – my all – farewell. Oh continue to love me – never misjudge the most faithful heart of your beloved.

Ever thine

Ever mine

Ever ours

 

أبحث عن إسمك في فنجان قهوة يبتسم لي في حنان.ا

أتلمس وجهك بين أشجار تتهامسن عليّ.ا

أستنشق نفسُك في رياح خريفية تربت على وجنتيَ.ا

صوتك يدندن بأغنيتي المفضلة .. في مكان ما.ا

سأرقص معك على تراس كبير،ا

على أنغام تشيلو عملاق وكمانٍ لامع.ا

لن ألتفت للمياه الزرقاء ولا للبيوت ذات الأسطح الحمراء.ا

سيشغل وجهك كل المساحة الفارغة حولي،ا

وداخلي.ا

ستكفيني عينيك،ا

ستكفيني عينيك..ا

يوماً ما.ا

يجلس بجوارها في غرفتها بالمستشفى، يحاول أن يتحكم في تعبيرات وجهه.. كما يفعل دائماً. ينجح.. كما يحدث دائماً. يلقي نظرة على إبنتيه. تنظر إحداهما إلى الأرض. يعلم أنها تبكي. تمسك الأخرى بمصحف صغير تقرأ فيه بهمهمة غير مفهومة بينما تمسح إحدى يديها العبرات التي تتساقط على الورق. يعيد بصره إليها. يراقب وجهها الهزيل ونفَسها الصاعد والهابط.ا

ا“أنا آسف. قدامها حوالي ساعة.”ا

ترفع إحدى يديها وتشير في إتجاه إبنتيها. ينادي هو عليهما فتهرعا ناحيتها بلهفة. “سيبوني مع بابا شوية.” تنظرا إليه. لا يفهما ولكن تُقبل كل منهما يد أمهما وتنصرفا خارج الغرفة. يظل جالساً على كرسيه بجوار سريرها. تدير رأسها ناحيته وتقول بصوت خافت: “راضي عني؟” كان يعلم كم كان مهماً بالنسبة لها أن يكون راضياً وسعيداً معها. لم يرى زوجة مثلها. كانت تفعل كل شيئ في مقدورها لتسعده. حتى في تلك الأوقات القليلة التي كانا يتشاجرا فيها، كانت تصالحه حتى لا يبيت ليلة وهو غضبان منها. على الرغم من ذلك، كان يعاملها ببعض الجفاء. هو يحبها.. كثيراً في الواقع. ولكنه كان يعلم أنه إذا أظهر كم يحبها ستتمرد عليه وربما تتركه. شأن كل النساء، لا يستوين إلا لمن يكسرهن ويخضعهن. لم يكن يسئ معاملتها ولكنه يعترف أنه لم يسألها قط إذا ما كانت سعيدة معه أو راضية. نظر إليها وقبل أن يفتح فمه ليجيب أردفت: “يعني لو ربنا سألك إذا كنت عملت واجبي ناحيتك وإذا كنت راضيتك لحد ما مت هاتقول له إيه؟” حاول أن يقول لها أنها كانت نعم الزوجة والأم وأنه يتمنى لو يطيل الله في عمرها أكثر من تلك الساعة ليقضيا بقية عمرهما سوياً، إلا أنه لم يستطع. “راضي، راضي.”ا

تصمت للحظات، تغمض عينيها قبل أن تفتحهما وتقول بصوت بدأ يتهدج: “طلقني.” كاد أن يسقط بالكرسي عندما عاد فجأة للوراء وهو ينظر إليها بعينين متسعتين عن آخرهما: “بتقوللي إيه؟” أخذت تبذل مجهوداً لكي تتكلم وهي تنظر إلى عينيه: “أنا عشت معاك فوق الثلاثة وعشرين سنة، خدمتك إنت وولادنا وحاولت إني ماقصرش في أي حاجة. وأعتقد إني وفيت. إنت قلت إنك راضي. طلقني أرجوك.” لم يفهم. هل بدأت تفقد عقلها؟ هز رأسه وهو يقول: “ليه؟ ليه؟” بدا أنها تقاوم لكي تبقي في وعيها: “مش عايزة أموت وأنا إسمي على إسمك. مش عايزة إن لو ربنا شاء ودخلت الجنة تكون إنت جوزي.” ماذا فعل؟ ماذا فعل لها لكي تصل إلى تلك الدرجة من كرهها له؟ أحقاً تكرهه؟ لأول مرة خلال حياتهما معاً لايتحكم في معالم وجهه. تظهر علامات الألم والذهول الغير مصدق على وجهه. يقول بصوت خافت، مذنب: “بس أنا عايزك تفضلي مراتي في الجنة.” إرتجفت وشهقت وبدا أنها على وشك الرحيل. قفز من مقعده وجلس بجوارها على السرير وأمسك بيدها. أخذت تحاول أن تنظم تنفسها حتى هدأ قليلاً. هي لا تشعر بالألم الآن.. تعدت تلك المرحلة. الآن جاء الوقت الذي يشعر هو بذلك الأم المر الذي تجرعته لسنوات. “كفاية عذاب الدنيا. طلقني أرجوك.” لم يعرف ماذا يفعل. بلا وعي، أخذ يضغط على يديها في يديه، يقبلها ويضعها على خديه، يمسح بها دموع لم ترها في حياتها. الوقت ضيق.. ضيق.. مثل فتحة إبرة مسدودة. صوت جهاز القلب الذي بدأ في التسارع يدفعه للجنون. صوت شهقاتها التي بدأت في الإرتفاع يجعله يريد أن يصرخ. عيناها تتعلق بشفتيه في أمل. “سامحيني. إنتي طالق.” تنظر إليه للحظة بشبح إمتنان في عينيها المتسعتين قبل أن تهدأ فجأة مع تحول الخط المتعرج في جهاز القلب لخطٍ مستقيم.ا

لن يعلم.. ولن يفهم.. كما إكتشف أنه كان يحدث دائماً.ا

If you ever see me cry, hold my hand, hug me, or even look away. Just do NOT motionlessly stare!

I just finished The Mermaid Chair, a novel I started around a year ago, stopping many times to read almost 15 books in between the first and last pages. For some reason, I picked it up from my library a week ago, finishing almost 300 pages in 7 days. Now let me start by giving it a rating: I’d say 2 stars (out of five). I do not understand how it was a bestseller!

So, what is wrong with the book? Flat. Although there is a lot of diving into the minds of some of the characters, yet it’s as if you’re seeing someone is striving inside whether to go to the shoemaker or to go grocery shopping! Kidd could not get me emotionally involved but in the last 70 pages. The main plot of the novel (Jessie falling out of marriage and in love with a monk) is not closely as interesting as the sub-plot (the reasons behind Jessie’s mother cutting her fingers one after the other). 

Kidd tried to make the novel a quest of realizing one’s self (a mystical journey, some might claim). I have to admit the speech at the end when Jessie said “All my life, in nameless, indeterminate ways, I’d tried to complete myself with someone else – first my father, then Hugh, even Whit, and I didn’t want that anymore. I wanted to belong to myself” was powerful but not the journey itself. She has been through physical toil (of being with her mom through the stressful period of cutting her fingers, being hospitalized and through recovery) but not emotional/psychological one.

The novel is a not-so-good version of the masterpiece The Awakening by Kate Chopin. Many motifs (sea/water, (physical) love, clothes…etc.) in The Awakening are used in The Mermaid Chair. But most of them are not skilfully or profoundly employed as Chopin did in her novel. The final scene in The Awakening where Edna goes inside the sea is re-used here but I have to admit in a good way:

“When the water swelled above my knees, I stopped and dug in my pocket for the bits of twine I’d gathered off the lawn at the monastery. I wanted to tie a knot that would go on forever. But not with anyone else. With myself.”

Although the novel ends in the same status as before Jessie starts her self-realization quest- back to her marriage and abandoning her love, yet she has gone through re-birth; she lost her old self, went really deep in sin and suffering just to rise up with a new identity. Or as Whit, her lover monk, said that they were going to be each others’ damnation and salvation.

 What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
Like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore–
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over–
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?

A blessing I never thought of: I can pray; I have the physical ability to stand, kneel and rest my head on the ground, others don’t. I have the safety of practicing praying without the fear of being bombed or slaughtered because I am from a different religion, others don’t. I have the ability to read and understand most of the Quran because Arabic is my mother tongue, others don’t. I have faith, others don’t!

 

الحمد لله على نعمة الإسلام… وكفى بها نعمة.ا

Maybe if you lose your individuality, if you just go on with the current, if you live faceless, you’ll be happier! But can you?!

Generally, I am not an advocate of change. I feel restless and uncomfortable when I change anything (with the exception of very few things). I usually grow emotionally attached to my inanimate possessions. Recently, I had to change mobiles. In the process, I found a wealth of smses; numerous ones from Rou simply reading: “I love you!”, from Meto thanking me for something or telling me he cried from one of my stories, Nerro and the unexpected “How are you ya samakayty?” that truly makes my day, Sola with her “I miss you” that makes me miss her even more than I already do. I first wanted to move all those messages but then thought why do I need to? I already have the people and their love. I do not need a few lines to remind me of what I have. I took a deep breath and did it; I deleted over 570 messages; some of which came from people I talk to no more, and others from people that are still blessing me with their presence in my life. Sometimes love vanishes, friendships end, and sparks fade away. But this does not mean that, at a certain point in time, we did not enjoy that special moment of loving and being loved. For what is here, cease it and enjoy it. For what has passed, don’t cling too much to it. This is just “life”!

هي: تحمل له دوماً في حقيبة يدها دايت سويت لأن “دمه زي العسل فا مش محتاج سكر زيادة” كما تقولها للآخرين بإبتسامة عريضة بدلاً من أن تخبرهم بأنه مريض بالسكر.ا

هو: “مكان مافيهوش تدخين” يقولها للنادل عندما يكون معها على الرغم من أنه مدخن، لأنه يعلم كم هي ضعيفة رئتيها.ا

تأكل “نص بطن” مع الأولاد. يأكل “نص بطن” مع زملاء العمل. يأكلا نصف البطن الآخر معاً.ا