A Dream within a Dream

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow-
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep- while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream? 


Edgar Allan Poe

"Who was she? What was she, that she should hold herself superior?What view of life, what design upon fate, what conception of happiness, had she that pretended to be larger than these large, these fabulous occasions? If she wouldn't do such a thing as that then she must do great things, she must do something greater."

The portrait of a Lady.

Slaughterhouse Five

He has fought during the second world war and witnessed the bombing of the city of Dresden, a German city completely destroyed near the end of the war. Ever since he came back home from the war and he's been wanting to write a book about it. After endless trials, he eventually tells his story through Billy Pilgrim, an Optometrist whom he had met during the war and had a picular story about him: Billy claimed he had been kidnapped by Aliens and that he could spontaneously travel through time into different phases of his life.


Billy Pilgrim, after being kidnapped by Tralfamadorians:
-''How—how did I get here?''
-''It would take another Earthling to explain it to you. Earthlings are the great explainers, explaining why this event is structured as it is, telling how other events may be achieved or avoided. I am a Tralfamadorian, seeing all time as you might see a stretch of Rocky Mountains. All time is all time. It does not change. It does not lend itself to warnings or explanations. It simply is. Take it moment by moment, and you will find that we are all, as I've said before, bugs in amber.''
-''Why me? ''
-"That is a very Earthling question to ask, Mr. Pilgrim. Why you? Why us for that matter? Why anything? Because this moment simply is. Have you ever seen bugs trapped in amber?''
-''Yes.''
Billy in fact, had a paperweight in his office which was a blob of polished amber with three ladybugs embedded in it.
-''Well, here we are, Mr. Pilgrim, trapped in the amber of this moment. There is no why."

Billy is kept in a zoo on Tralfamadore. He learns that they see four dimensions, the fourth being time. They don't just see the present, they can simultaneously see the past and the future, all like a series at the same time. They know Billy has fought during the second world war.
-"But you do have a peaceful planet here.''
-''Today we do. On other days we have wars as horrible as any you've ever seen or read about. There isn't anything we can do about them, so we simply don't look at them. We ignore them. We spend eternity looking at pleasant moments—like today at the zoo. Isn't this a nice moment?''
-''Yes.''
-''That's one thing Earthlings might learn to do, if they tried hard enough: Ignore the awful times, and concentrate on the good ones.''

Billy was watching a movie about the war, during watching he kept time traveling through it so that he eventually ended up seeing the film backwards, this is what he's seen.
"American planes, full of holes and wounded men and corpses took off backwards from an airfield in England. Over France a few German fighter planes flew at them backwards, sucked bullets and shell fragments from some of the planes and crewmen. They did the same for wrecked American bombers on the ground, and those planes flew up backwards to join the formation.
The formation flew backwards over a German city that was in flames. The bombers opened their bomb bay doors, exerted a miraculous magnetism which shrunk the fires, gathered them into cylindrical steel containers, and lifted the containers into the bellies of the planes. The containers were stored neatly in racks. The Germans below had miraculous devices of their own, which were long steel tubes. They used them to suck more fragments from the crewmen and planes. But there were still a few wounded Americans, though, and some of the bombers were in bad repair. Over France, though, German fighters came up again, made everything and everybody as good as new.
When the bombers got back to their base, the steel cylinders were taken from the racks and shipped back to the United States of America, where factories were operating night and day, dismantling the cylinders, separating the dangerous contents into minerals. Touchingly, it was mainly women who did this work. The minerals were then shipped to specialists in remote areas. It was their business to put them into the ground, to hide them cleverly, so they would never hurt anybody ever again.
The American fliers turned in their uniforms, became high school kids. And Hitler turned into a baby, Billy Pilgrim supposed. That wasn't in the movie. Billy was extrapolating. Everybody turned into a baby, and all humanity, without exception, conspired biologically to produce two perfect people named Adam and Eve, he supposed. "

إنه العيد

It's Eid! The annual living proof that happiness can be contagious.

There is something about it that makes you truly happy. Although there is no particularly delightful or extraordinary event that is done during it and although you may have your reasons to be in the blues, you can't deny the thrilling effect it has.

The feverish cleaning campaigns the day before Eid while hearing the traditional songs you hear every year out loud from every TV in your street including yours. Putting on your new pajamas (a habit I haven't given up since childhood). Waking up very early -that's if you've slept in the first place- to go to the prayer. Hearing Al-takbeerat repeated by everyone at the same time producing that loud firm "Allah akbar" as if said by one man, this feeling of strength and power it gives! The usual silly competitions held for the kids after the prayer and before you know they're all running joyfully around the street carrying colorful balloons and toys that they've just won. The extremely high caloric breakfast held after the prayer and forced to eat everywhere you go in Eid. The family gatherings. Seeing people you mostly only see in Eid. The quiet peaceful fresh atmosphere on the streets -if you stay away from main streets and parks, that is- .

Nothing fancy, but you can sense that everybody has taken some group decision to enjoy the day no matter what sort of troubles awaits them after it, and you can't help but getting dragged into it yourself, and before you know those little simple traditions done every year bring so much joy to your heart. Happy enthusiastic people are infectious, and you'll get to be surrounded by them all day.

I know there are people who this particular atmosphere of mass happiness gets on their nerves. Sometimes I'm one of them too, but I know that I'm lucky to have been granted a chance of living long enough to feel it all again this year, lucky for having the luxury of complaining about being surrounded by too many happy people and lucky for being able to feel the joy of it all.

The Evil World Theory

It happens that sometimes you're mad at the world. Something happens that wakes you up from your happy little care-free life and throws you back to the merciless reality. Your mind tries to defend you so it struggles to push you into a meaningless circle of frustration and anger. "It's not your fault, it's the bad world's", it keeps telling you. It even refuses others' attempts to sooth it, to console it, or attempts to share your pain, because these caring people make the world a less cruel despicable place and your mind won't have it! It wants to feel anger at the world at its full force. It needs to prove to itself that the world really is as cruel and despicable as it feels it is, really is worth every seed of hatred your mind is cultivating and nourishing, and these people are standing in its way. They are a solid proof the world isn't that bad. How you would hate them for it!

Only your faith can hold solid grounds in front of your angry mind. The faith that this world is a creation of Allah in which we are all meant to dwell together and ordered to build for reasons known only to Allah. That whatever happens in Allah's world happens for a good reason. That every little event contributes to reaching the reason for this world's existence, which is the only reason you exist in the first place. These little, yet purposeful, events may pain you. May be you're meant to feel the pain at this moment so that you'd wake up and finally do the thing you were brought here to do. Or may be your pain will wake someone else up. May be the whole point of your being put in this world is waking this someone up so that by just being in pain you've done a great service to the world.

It might seem like no sense to you, but the key to it all is faith. Do you have faith? It's only if you do that what I'm saying can make any sense.

So, moving on.

Verb "To Be"

This is how it goes when you complain about any of the following: appearances, family, origins.

Don't let it get to you!
You shouldn't let your appearance define who you are.
You shouldn't let who your family define who you are.
You shouldn't allow where you come from define who you are.

These are things sort of considered "out of your hand". You're born with these facts about yourself, you don't get to change them, they never change.

Then there are the things you choose -or you don't- like your studies, your career, what you do for a living. But again, they tell you when you complain about them that you shouldn't let them define who you are either.

What defines who I am?

I'd have thought that what I choose is what defines me. But what if you don't choose the right things that are supposed to define you? What if you don't choose right? Then the things you choose won't define you in this case. May be in this case your definition would be: " A person who doesn't choose right."

I don't really know what defines me.

Is it my thoughts? My beliefs? My opinions? What's their worth if there is nothing that I can do that would fully express them? What's their worth if they only stay in my head or stay on a piece of paper? They're supposed to show in your actions somehow. But in what direction exactly? If it is not in your work, then where?

Is it the people you choose to be with?

Is it what the majority of people agree that you are?

Is it all of these things when put together?

What defines me?
Who am I?

أنا و العربية

كنت ناوية أكتب عن كل الحاجات اللي و أنا صغيرة كنت ناوية أكونها لما أكبر - و دي كانت حاجات كتير و معظمها "ظريف" فعلاً. - و بدأت اكتب و كالمعتاد كتبت بالإنجليزية ( أيوة هي اسمها انجليزية بالعربي!) و بعدين خطر في بالي حاجتين: أولاً انا مكنتش بفكر في كل الحاجات دي وقتها بالاإنجليزية أصلاً، و ثانياً ازاي الواحد يتكلم عن "من كان يريد أن يكون" من غير ما يبقي عارف "من يكون"؟

مسحت الكلام اللي كتبته و رجعت فكلامي في الموضوع اللي كنت حتكلم فيه من الأساس، و قررت أني أكتب عن: أنا ليه بكتب بالإنجليزية مع إني مصرية و لغتي هي العربية؟

ممكن أقول أسباب كتيرمن نوعية "أصل إحنا معندناش انتماء و عندنا فقدان للهوية" بس معتقدش إني عندي فقدان هوية أو قلة إنتماء فبالتالي معتقدش إن دة السبب.. برضه مش مسألة اني مبعرفش عربي كويس،( كانت قايمة في دماغي أكتب بالفصحى دلوقتي بس حسيت إن كدة حيبقي كتير و قلت خليها بعدين) بس برضه مش دة السبب لاني أول ما بدأت أقرأ أصلاً (قصدي قراءة خارج مناهج الدراسة) كنت بقرأ بالعربيةالفصحي  و كتبت كتير جداً بالفصحى وقتها حتى كتبت قصص بالفصحي! (كانت قصص هي كمان "ظريفة" جداً، و كما هوواضح أنا كنت طفلة "ظريفة") . ا

ايه مشكلتي طيب؟

يمكن انا حاسة إن العربي لغة العوام أو لغة بلدي أو بيئة أو حاسة إن الكتابة بالانجليزية بتخلي اللي بكتبه مختلف عن اللي الناس التانية بتكتبه؟ اعتقد أن دة السبب بالنسبة لناس كير جداً فبالتالي بيكتبوا بأي لغة تانية يجيدوها (أو حتى لو لا يجيدوها) ، و اللي مش لاقي لغة تانية يجيدها بيكتب فرانكو اراب و اهو يبقي عمل اي حاجة غير انه يضطر يستخدم الحروف العربية "البلدي" او خلينا نقول "اللي شكلها مش لطيف ذي شكل الكتابة الفارنكو اراب".ا

اول ما عملت اكونت علي الفايس بوك كانت اول سنة الاحظ اد ايه الفرانكو اراب انتشر و كانت الفكرة "مقززة" جدا بالنسبة لي وقتها، و قعدت اقول للناس كلها:  خلاص مش قادرين نطيق فكرة إننا عرب لدرجة إننا حنكتب العربي بلغة تانية؟ للدرجة دي بنعبر عن اد ايه كان نفسنا نكون بنتكلم لغة تانية غير العربي و يا ريت لو تكون الانجليزية عشان نبقي شبه الناس اللي احنا بنشوفهم وحنموت عليهم في التليفزيون؟

اصريت في الاول إني مش حستخدمه و فضلت أكتب الستاتيس و التعليقات في الجروبس و الرسايل و كل حاجة بالعربي، و بعدين لقيت نفسي الوحيدة في كل صحابي اللي بتعمل كدة و لقيت اني كل ما افتح الموضوع قدام حد يقولي ان الحكاية مش مستاهلة و اني مكبرةالموضوع..و بعدين ألفته و اتعودت عليه من كتر استخدامي للفيس بوك و تدريجيا بدأت استخدمه أنا كمان..ا

امممم.. معتقدش إن السبب بالنسبة لي أي واحد من دول

بالنسبة لي و بالنسبة لناس كتير جدا اعتقد إن المسألة مسألة ثقافة، ايه هي لغة الثقافة و لغة المعلمومات اللي عمالة تدخل دماغك طول الوقت؟ الإنجليزية.. بالتالي و قت ما مخك ييجي يعبر عن نفسه حيعبر بنفس اللغة اللي دخلتله المعلومات بيها.. طبيعي جدا

مدرسة و كتب و كلية و تليفزيون و اغاني كله بالإنجليزية،كل دة "داخل" .. طبيعي جدا إن كل اللي "طالع" يبقي بالإنجليزية برضه

يبقي فين المشكلة؟ المشكلة هي إيه اللي دخل كل دة بلغة غير العربي من الأساس؟

خد المدرسة مثلاً ، أنا كنت في مدرسة لغات درسنا فيها كل حاجة تقريبا بالإنجليزية، و إن كنت محظوظة نوعاً إن مدرستي كانت المدرسة اللغات الوحيدة اللي بتدرس القرآن و بتخصص له حصص كل اسبوع (بغض النظر عن مدي اهتمام المدرسة او المدرسين او الطلبة بالحصة انما كانت موجودة) فبالتالي محدش جرؤ في المدرسة علي انه يقول لنا إن العربي "عيب" أو "بيئة" و مكانتش سياسة المدرسة عموماً إننا نستبدل العربي في كلامنا بالإنجليزية .. غير مدارس تانية لغات اصرت علي تعليم الطلبة ان الالفاظ العربي بلدي و ان استخدامها يدل علي تعليم متدني.. كنت واقفة مرة في الكلية و مش عارفة ايه اللي جاب سيرة طوابير المدرسة. واحدة صحبتي قالتلي: ايه دة؟ انتو كنتو بتقولوا "طابور"؟ قلتها اه، قالتلي ناقص تقولي كنتوا بتقولوا "حصة"، قلت لها اه كنا بنقول حصة! مالهم طابور و حصة يعني؟! طبعاً قالت كلام لا نهاية له عن أد ايه احنا كنا مدرسة بيئة و انا قلت كلام لا نهاية له عن اننا معروف مستوي مدرستنا و مستوي الناس اللي فيها كويس و ان الفرق اننا عندنا اعتزاز باصلنا و مبنتكسفش نتكلم عربي .. إلي آخر كل الكلام المتوقع يتقال.  دة غير طبعاً المدارس الاجنبية التابعة لنظم تعليم دولي أو سفارات أجنبية مبيتعلموش فيها عربي من الأساس إلا كلمتين فقط دة لو اتعلموهم،. و فيهم أولياء أمور شايفين إن دة الصح و إن العربي لا داعي لتدريسة أصلاً لانه -زي ما قالتلي واحدة من الأمهات كانت معايا في دروس الفرنسية- "لغة غير مستخدمة و ملهاش لازمة أصلاً".ا

حتى الكتب، قلة قليلة من الكتب العربية الموجودة حاليا (بقول حاليا مش زمان)تستحق القراءة. الروايات مواضيها محدودة جداً ، فلو ذوقك مش متناسب مع الموجود يبقي مفيش داعي تقرأ أصلاً أو حتلاقي نفسك بتقرأ بالإنجليزية اللي حتلاقي فيها تعدد و تنوع بلا حدود لفي المواضيع و الأفكار و حتى حتلاقي فيها ترجمات متقنة جدا عن كل اللغات التانية اللي انت لا تجيدها، ورحم الله أمثال جمال الدين الأفغاني اللي كانوا مهتمين بترجمة الكتب الأجنبية للعربية ترجمة متقنة، دلوقتي الترجمات للعربية رديئة و غير مقروءة أصلاً كأنها مترجمة علي جوجل

الأغاني و الأفلام الحديثة أغلبها هابط و تافه و غير قابل للاستخدام البشري اساساو تخجل من انك تقول "هو دة الفن العربي".. و برضه حتلاقي علي الناحية التانية كل انواع و مواضيع الفن تختار منها اللي انت عايزة و اللي يتناسب مع ذوقك و فكرك و تربيتك، طبيعي جدا انك تختار تروح الناحية التانية

طيبعي جدا ان ادام كل الي داخل عقلك اجنبي، يطلع منه كل حاجة برضه بنفس اللغة و الفكر اللي دخل بيها و اللي متعلمش و أَلَف غيرها أصلا

مش قصدي التعميم اطلاقاً، عارفة كويس جداً إن علي مستوي الأدب و الفن و الترجمة في حاجات كويسة جدا بالعربية، أنا بتكلم علي إنها قليلة و غير متاحة و مفيش تنوع في مواضيها و الأهم بقي، إنها لا يتم الترويج لها علي الإطلاق عشان تصل للناس و يعرفوا بوجودها من الأساس.ا

الحل؟ مش الحل إننا نرضي بالموجود عندنا و نعتبر إن كدة يبقي احنا عندنا انتماء،لأن أصلاً الموجود حاليا دة عبارة عن تعريب فاشل و سطحي للثقافات الأجنبية. الحل إن الثقافة العربية تبدأ تعلي لحد ما تقدر تحل محل الثقافات الأجنبية. يبقي في مادة محترمة و متنوعة و راقية تتقدم للناس و يبدأ الترويج لها زي ما تم الترويج للثقافات الأجنبية هنا و تشجيع الناس إنهم يختاروها و يرفضوا الهابط منها.  و وقتها حيبقي الناس نفسها هي اللي حتقبل علي استخدام العربية من غير ما حد يقول لها "نتكلم عربي عشان الانتماء"، حيبقو بيتكلموا عربي لأن هو دة اللي اتعلموه و اتربوا عليه فعلا

دة موضوع كبير و لا أدّعي اني أعرف إزاي يتم إنما عارفة أنه ممكن جداً يتم لو أصبح دة اتجاه الدولة نفسها. سقوط ثقافة الدولة كان جزء من السقوط اللي الدولة كلها بتعاني منه في كل حاجة.  الترويج لثقافة خاصة بينا احنا و تعبر عنا فعلاً.ووجود عِلم بيُنتج من عندنا احنا مش بيترجم او يتنقل معتمد علي تخطيط و سياسة الدولة في التعليم و تشجيعها للناس علي كدة.  لو الدولة مبقاش دة اتجاها اصلا اعتقد أن التغيير حيبقي صعب جدا . ا

علي فكرة حرف الألِف في نهاية كل جملة و كتابة كلمات انجليزية بالعربية هنا سببه ان البراوزر بيقلب ترتيب كل الجُمل لما باستخدم علامات ترقيم او حروف إنجليزية، مش عارفة دة لأني مش عارفة أضبطه و لا لأنه غير مُعَد للكتابة عليه بالعربية، أو لأنه مُعد أنه يزهق أي حد يحاول يكتب بالعربية.ا

عموماً خلاصة القول بالنسبة لي انا، انا بحب أقول لنفسي في آخر اليوم قبل ما انام اني بنفذ ما أؤمن به (أو بحاول حتى). و اللي كتبته مش معناه اني حبطل اكتب بأي لغة تانية. إنما معناه إني حافضل حاطة في دماغي إني لو عايزة أشوف العرب في يوم من الأيام عندهم ثقافة قادرين علي استخدامها، يبقي لازم ابدأ بنفسي 

ازاي؟ مش عارفة بالضبط.. بس ححاول

Singing Along

This is probably about nothing at all.
Well, thinking again, this is definitely about nothing at all.


I can't write songs. Not that I've actually tried and failed, but every time I think of the possibility of writing songs something screams in my head: YOU CAN'T! YOU CAN'T! YOU CAN'T! I needen't be hard on myself for it, everybody has a something that they can't do. But I'd have loved so much to write songs. Anyway, if I could write songs, they'd be Coldplay's.


Balance is important in life. They always say that and I think it's true. Don't get overtly enthusiastic over something and ignore other aspects of your life for it.  Balance. Stay balanced. Balance is important.
But don't you sometimes feel like you can't call yourself truly alive until you've experienced the feeling of losing your mind with passion and enthusiasm over an idea, giving it your day and night and every corner of space in your mind until you've achieved it against people's "assurances" that you won't. No? At least once in your life? You think this may cause so much damage to your life. May be it will, but it's worth it. Or so I think.



Sometimes phrases stick to your head. You hear them in a critical time, or from a special person, or they just hit a nerve and they kind of stay with you.
Can't remember the exact words though.
On BBC, few days after the 28th of Jan, there was that woman, she was saying with a smile and great adoration, how it's always wonderful to witness a revolution and see people coming together to stand in the face of tyranny. She said, of course there is the mess that comes with the after math, but the moment itself is very much worth witnessing.
I remember thinking that she is very right and envying her for affording to say that with a smile, while I can't say that without being eaten up with worry.
On CNN, the day following Mubarak's stepping down, there was another woman. The host was asking her if she thought the decision of some activists to stay in Tahrir square until all what has been called for is fulfilled. She said, who am I to judge? The millions of people in this square have formed a united organic entity capable of taking decisions and managing events in a way that was thought impossible. I think whatever they decide to do is the right thing.
Of course they tried to stay, of course they couldn't as they were driven out. I'll never forget this woman's words.


I have never watched "Pirates of the Caribbean" before . My sister was watching part 1 the other day. I, being the depressive dark person that I am, wanted to watch "Enemy at the gates". And of course being the kind hearted person that I am, we watched "pirates of the Caribbean". Near the end of the movie, Turner is kidnapped to be killed by the pirates while Sparrow and Elizabeth are rescued by the royal navy or something. Elizabeth convinces Norrington to return with the fleet to save Turner. Then you see how tens of officers die in the process of rescuing him which is successfully accomplished. Note that they wouldn't have died if they didn't return to rescue Turner. But at the end of the movie we are all glad Turner is rescued and no one even remebers the officers.
I don't believe people when they tell me they think all lives are equal. Lives are important only when we choose to care, or when we're induced to care. Otherwise....


I think I'll just go eat something now. 

About Transforming into Devils

It's Ramadan.
Every year I start the month by strictly deciding not to change my sleep pattern. Every year I dramatically change it!
So this explains why when today's trial was on I was deeply asleep and was planning to stay that way.
I've watched part of the earlier session and I expected this one would be pretty much the same so I didn't feel like waking up to watch at all. Still, I felt like it was my duty to see this trial , so I opened my eyes, took one look at all of them. One in bed and doesn't seem to mind all the folks directly staring at him or the millions of folks indirectly staring at him through TV, and the other two mockingly eying the spectators with Al- Qur'an in their hands. Then I was straight back to bed.

Dreams, dreams, dreams.

The TV is very loud, I can hear all the screaming angry voices in my sleep. They're all joining in the dream. Thoughts and impressions from the quick glimpse I had, they're also joining in.

He was a military aviator (or is it a fighter pilot? or is it both? I don't know). He fought the war. On that day he got on that plane knowing he might never come back and yet he did it. He knew he could die. He came back as a war hero, receiving the endless respect and admiration of his people.
How could he later betray these people? How did he turn into a traitor and a monstrously selfish dictator who crashed an entire country under his feet? Crashed Egypt under his feet. The same country he fought to free.
How can you be ready to give your life away to protect something, and then you yourself carry out to the heart the mission of mercilessly destroying it?
How do people change that much? How do they turn into other people?
I can't understand.

Is it true that people only go to war out of pure patriotism and love for their country or beliefs? I have no idea. I've never witnessed a war or been to a war (thankfully), but I can't understand why would you risk your own life, or risk living with a severe disability, unless you know that if you die or get disabled, you won't feel anger or remorse, you need to be sure that you'll feel satisfied and relived. Yes, relieved. There is no other way to accept death or disability unless you're so committed to your beliefs that nothing would relief you other than fulfilling them even if the price was your very own life.
How could you rise to such spirits then fall to the extreme opposite?
I can't understand.

People don't always go to war for that, I know, though I can't understand how.

We all know that there was nothing left to millions to live on except cracks of bread (if they could find them). In Ramadan, it was crystal clear with all the ads. urging people to donate money for all sorts of charity that this country was being run by the people. The people who can took over to save as much as they can of the people who can't from starving to death. They even took over for health, education and sports projects. Few years ago, Gamal Mubarak (the man carrying Al-Qu'ran today) wanted to start a governmental project to collect the charity money from the people (because the government knows better how to distribute it). Why would all of this charity money be wasted on the starving ragged masses? They wanted to take that away too.
I don't understand how can people be so monstrous, so merciless, and be all of this to their own people. Call me cheesy, naive or whatever but I just can't understand.

What we're witnessing must be a wake up call to us all.

Some of us can't imagine how being a merciless devil can be done, and at the same time some of us do it without the slightest difficulty. Some of us transform between the two types.
No grantees for who the person you'll wake up to be tomorrow, is there?
How do I know I won't transform?

Ya Allah, you're my only hope that I won't.

Babel Tower!

Currently in KSA, the place where I was born and where I've lived for so long.


I mostly hated having to spend the summer in KSA. Apart from the advantage of getting to visit Mecca, I always had to spend the vacation in a tightly reserved and closed community where I didn't have any friends. Days were always spent between shopping and wandering about at home reading or watching TV.
I've observed as a foreigner and an outsider the position of women in the society and as a feminist (yes I'm a feminist, haven't I  mentioned it?) I disliked the place even more. I've seen women as shadows obliged to follow men and always dependent on them, and always had the impression that men took women for granted out of consciousness of their dependence.

This year I am here after a long break of the summer visits. Older and finally with a defined field of studying (which is the same field of my parents), I found a better chance than what was usually available to me for getting a closer look at this society.
My way in was accompanying my father to work. Through being with him I got a glimpse of the male society, and on my own I was easily admitted to the female society, both societies strictly separated and yet coexisting with much success, a thing I've always thought not possible.

I've met the housewives Saudi women before and I've thought it all there is to the female society. Spending time in the female ER, I got to see how these women transform into able, active characters in their work environment. They seemed to be functioning and focusing with better liberty and comfort away from men.
I also got to meet the female medical staff from other different Arab and non-Arab nationalities who Egyptian women would consider as having less liberty or less chances of education. The most amazing of all was the Sudanese staff. Most of the female surgeons were Sudanese. I got to make friends with one of them and she was exactly the sort of girls I always wanted to be. Confident and tender with her patients, calm and always knowing exactly what to do, determined to move forwards with her career. I learned from her that many Sudanese women choose surgery and that it was no wonder to them. Strangely enough, this is not the case in our more opened Egyptian society.
Based on what I've seen, both male doctors and female patients had great respects and trust in the female surgeons. No one seemed to question their abilities just because they are women.

Babel Tower! Another striking point was everyone's ability to communicate successfully with other staff members despite the difference in their nationalities, native languages and backgrounds. All other nationalities seemed to accept that they've entered a society that has its own rules that are to be respected whether the rules are liked or not. I found it to be considered a point for the Saudi society to be able to accept and cope with such a diversity with all the further complexity and the additional internal social division that it brings.

The clothes! In here I understood it usually works this way: The ladies cover from head to toe while servants don't usually cover their faces, may be because they are usually non-Saudis. Despite being all covered up they take great care of the elegance of their robes, bags and shoes each doing her best according to her economic state. The obligation to cover up didn't seem to offend them in any way, on the contrary according to their social rules it seemed to indicate their being of an upper social state.
Personally, like many other non-Saudi women here, I don't cover my face. Yet it didn't evoke any sort of harassment or even any unpleasant comment from either men or women. Some might give you a look of disapproval, but it doesn't progress further than the look.

It's true that many of my first impressions were correct, for instance the banning of women from driving creates a great dependence issue. Some women had to skip work on many days because they didn't have anyone available to drive them. Of course the hospital has its own buses in service, but not all of the women use the buses.

What I've learnt is that there is no such thing as an ideal society pattern that has to be applied all over the world. I can't generalize what I've seen and I didn't see much, but I understand now that what can't work for my society isn't necessarily impossible to apply for other societies. This society like any other society definitely has it's problems and definitely has its many flaws. It's true that the position of women regarding the value placed on their education is not where it is thought best to be. But then again, I generally accept and understand now that what's considered "best" or as "improvement" is not the same everywhere. Changes are brought about only when the current conditions are no longer considered satisfactory for those living them and not for those judging from the outside, and it's up to those living them only to take action towards changing  them.

Probably it would be a long while before I'd be able to to visit KSA again, and I'm glad I'll be leaving this time inshaa Allah with better impressions and memories and more acquaintances than every time :)





 

First post: Making ourselves at home!

Personally, if I'm going to read something, I like knowing a little about the person who wrote it. So for you out there who feel the same, there we go.

I answer "a med student" when people ask me who I am. That's true, but fortunately - or unfortunately, I can't really tell up till now-  studying medicine is not my only focus. I confess to being easily distracted from medicine by events happening around me or weird thoughts or impulses that occur to me. I have a troublesome tendency to always try to understand and analyze them. But don't get the wrong idea here, I cherish medicine very much for being on its own a very special way of experiencing life and seeing it from where the majority of people don't get to.

I am completely in love with books! Seriously! It's like an obsession to me! Specially novels from all sorts of cultures and from different times. I consider it a way of browsing through lives that I can never live, may be even living and "feeling" them through their writers.

My wish is to live up to being the person I think I can be, the person I'm working on being. To see the world one day, to check for myself if things are really like I read about them.

I've been blogging on Facebook  for a couple of years and people over there said they liked it, and for reasons unknown to me, I'm moving to here.

Getting what this blog's about? Exactly! Life, books and medicine! They all overlap together, and they all contribute everyday to the person I become the next day.

Feeling at home? Hopefully..