Food for the Soul

Yesterday was tough .. it is not out of my system yet .. but I guess it will take sometime.

I had a book signing event in a lovely compound in Sheikh Zayed on Thursday 3 April that was organized by "A New Book in the Market". One of the guests asked me to read outloud a certain part of my book ... I choked on tears twice as I read it ... I want to share it with you;

It was raining heavily and I do not like heavy rain. It was cloudy and grey and I do not like grey clouds. It was windy and cold and I do not like cold wind. I put a few drops of cranberry fragrance oil in my burner and lit the tiny candle underneath, took my laptop in my arms, sat on the sofa, threw a blanket over my legs, and got online. I decided to browse Egyptian blogs and bloggers to see who is writing what. I typed “Egypt” in the search box and I was redirected from one blog to the other until I found his page. I do not know what made me stop and read; his words emitted a sincere and genuine vibe that blended well with the warming scent of cranberry that filled the room.

He is a typical Egyptian guy – not my favorite – who has a typical Egyptian wife to whom he got married in a typical Egyptian way. They were leading a typical Egyptian life and they had no serious issues but for the every now and then character clashes between him and his wife. She had a free spirited genie locked within the bottle of the traditional Egyptian girl and she thought marriage will set the genie free. She pursued her love of nature in desert trips, safaris, and excursions, and he never understood her urges to sleep on the sand or to watch the sunrise from a boat. Nevertheless, they reached some sort of an agreement whereby she can have her breaks when he said that it was ok.

Gihan went blind; she lost her eyesight all of a sudden and the doctors said that it was a rare case. My eyes watered as I read Ahmed’s lines: “My 25 year old wife will never see the nature she loved again.” He went on describing how she got depressed, shut him out, wanted a divorce, wanted him to remarry, quit her job, isolated herself, neglected her friends, and just gave up on life. There were a lot of tears between his lines and there were a lot of tears running down my cheeks. I could not even begin to imagine walking the famous mile in her shoes, or in his shoes. On her birthday, he nearly forced her to get dressed to go out and, to spare her the discomfort of being around people, he took her for a long cruise in a felluca.

Gihan asked Ahmed to lend her his eyes; she wanted him to tell her what he saw. He began talking about the scenery and she began asking him detailed questions. She wanted him to describe the sky; its shades of blue, the birds, the clouds, and the buildings in the horizon. She needed to know the color of the sun at the moment and he understood that orange is not a solid color. She asked him to tell her what he saw in the water and he learned the power of reflections. Gihan was the one who lost her sight, yet she was the one who lent Ahmed her eyes. For the first time he saw what she saw in nature and for the first time they enjoyed nature’s beauty together.

His words came to a full stop and my day came to an end. Ahmed and Gihan were in my dreams all night, and when I woke up in the morning I did not jump out of bed. I did not run around the house trying to get myself in the car to go to the office. I sat in bed and smiled at my cats, slowly reached out to the curtains, pulled them away, opened my window, and watched the sunbeams smile back at me. Their light filled my room and their warmth filled my heart. I reached out to my cats and for the first time I felt their soft fur; before, I used to touch them but that day I felt the warmth and the beauty of something that is beyond words – something that I took for granted.

What else did I take for granted? Who else did I archive unintentionally? What other signs did I miss on the way? What more could I not see? What did I never have the time to do because I was so busy? Who did I never had the time to meet because I had other priorities? I got a cup of tea and sat back in bed and enjoyed a lovely new beginning to my morning. Eventually I got myself out of the house and drove to work; I decided to take a different route. I wanted to see new things and I reminded myself of how lucky I was to be able to look at such beauty. I am lucky to have the heart to enjoy it and I am blessed to be able to feel it. I am eternally grateful to Ahmed and Gehan – two people that I never met. The smile lasted that whole day, the day after, and many days that followed.

New beginnings are always loaded with many contradictory feelings; hope, fear, optimism, doubt, resolution, skepticism, comfort, hesitation, and determination. The skeletons in the closet and collective experiences are a threat to new beginnings. Regret, or the fear of regret, weighs heavily on our hearts as we try to embrace the sunshine. We remember when we were last burnt or when we were last hurt, and we subconsciously look at our scars. Memories of how deep and how painful they were rush back to our heads, and with an involuntary movement we clench our fists as though we are holding on to the past. Something inside of us refuses to let go and that very same thing resists the change – the new beginning.

The tree will shed its old dry corrupted infected leaves and will grow new soft fresh green leaves. I will slow down and enjoy the drive rather than the destination. I will take off my masks, let my hair down, face the sun, smile, and breathe. I will borrow Gihan’s eyes and, from now onwards, I will use them to carefully watch what I used to carelessly look at; to deeply look at what I used to superficially see; to simply see what I simply never saw. “Tomorrow is the most important thing in life. It comes in to us at midnight very clean. It is perfect when it arrives and it puts itself in our hands and hopes we've learnt something from yesterday." --John Wayne

From Sharkawy's Finacee

last night was almost ordinary.. I went to my workout class and had a nice dinner with my fiance.. After a night of sleep interupted several times by very disturbing dreams.. I woke up to find that my fiance was kidnapped by the so called security forces - i'd rather call them the self preservation forces, given how secure we, the egyptians feel!!- while he was changing the flat tyre of my car.. I went -like any decent citizen- to the police station to report the incident.. Only to get a confirmation beyond doubt that this country is no place for decent citizens.. The esteemed officer refused reporting the incident on my behalf.. Insisted on going off topic.. Tried every stupid way that he learned to intimidate me and scare me off.. And -exactly as expected- offered me a dead end with a stupid smile on his face!.. Until that moment i was in trauma.. I haven't realized it till i got home to find a note that my fiance left me.. Telling me that he loves me.. Asking me to take good care of myself and be strong.. Was he feeling endangered?.. Did he know what was going to happen deep inside?.. Only then did i come to my senses and realized what was really happening.. I felt angry.. Frustrated.. And devastated.. There's nothing that i can do at this point and it feels like my hands are tied behind my back.. This is disgusting.. Inhumane.. And brutal.. As i sit here writing about it.. I feel even more helpless.. While the question keeps banging inside my head.. What becomes of us?.. What becomes of this?!!To be continued...

Free Sharkawy .. Free Egypt

I never thought that there would come a day when I would write anything with political inclination ... I was never interested!!!!!!

OK .. it is the 6th of April ... so what?!!! People are on strike!!! .. Who Cares?... Certainly not me!!

I woke up today .. like I wake up on any other day ... got my tea ... and my laptop ... then I got a call from Sandmonkey that my publisher has been arrested ... yeah right ... the cynical monkey joking!!!

An hour later JSC announced the names of those who were arrested ... Mohamed El Sharkawy has been arrested!!!

I called his finacee. In tears she told me what happened ... early that morning he stopped by her house to pick up something he left there and the taxi waited downstairs. Sharkawy told her that she had a flat tyre and that he was going to change it. The next thing she knew was the taxi driver screaming in the street "amn el dawla khatafo Sharkawy" - State security kidnapped Sharkawy.

Four private cars - mallaky ya3ni - and three motorcycles stopped under their building and 20 people got out and "kidnapped him"!!! ... they also took his fiancee's car keys so she would not follow them!!!

She went to report it in the Sheikh Zayed police station .... they refused to file a report!!!

WTF?!!!!!!!!!!!!

He is my publisher ... he started a new business ... he found a new way to voice his opinion ... he was just starting ... he is gone!!!!!!!!!

I do not know how to feel ... I am partly angry .. shocked .. resentful .. and scared.

As an Egyptian I am provoked .. As a writer I am pissed ... As a human being I am offended and ashamed of YOU .. ashamed of Egypt!!

Blurb:
I am sitting now at home next to Mohamed El Sharkawy's fiancee ... we have no clue where he is .... she is sitting there looking all helpless and frustrated ...

"Whatever happened to new beginnings? Whatever happened to second chances? He knew they were going to come after him .. he felt it .. he told me that he will be arrested ... he left me a note asking me not to worry and to be strong" she said

What are they expecting? Is that a way to deal with anger? Is that a way to deal with our countrymen? In all my posts I have called for independence, dignity, pride, and character .... how could anyone raise his head up high and walk like an Egyptian? I know that Sharkawy will go home tonight or tomorrow .... but what kind of person will he be? Defeated? Ashamed? Oppressed? Livid? Resentful? Negative?

And here I am .. calling for a better life, better love, better relationships, and better future ... bala nila!!!!! PS I just heard on JSC that the Egyptian government said that people did not go to work/ universities/ schools today because of bad weather conditions!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Update:
خبر صحفى من مركز هشام مبارك للقانوناصدر مركز هشام مبارك العديد من البيانات والوثائق عشية بدء احتجاجات 6/4/2008 منها نداء موجه للزميلات والزملاء المحامين تسجيل بياناتهم للتطوع دفاعاعن حقوق المواطنين المصريين http://hmlc.katib.org/node/167ونداء لمواطنيين لاستفادة من هذه القائمةhttp://hmlc.katib.org/كما اعد المركز بعض الدفوع القانونية التى قد تكون مفيدة على الموقع التالى http://hmlc.katib.org/node/165وسبق للمركز اصدار بيان بهذا المعنى موجه للمواطن العادى بيان مشروعية الاضراب http://hmlc.katib.org/node/162كما نشر المركز النص الكامل لحكم البراءة فى قضية اضراب سائقى السكك الحديدية لاهميته فى هذه المناسبة http://hmlc.katib.org/node/156

Marwa Rakha broods over Moez Masoud

I met him for the very first time when I was shooting E7na show and I was pleasantly surprised with what I saw; Moez Masoud is a young handsome charismatic man who is blessed by sound logic and common sense. He is nonetheless knowledgeable and passionate about his message. Unlike many other religious figures, Moez is witty, funny, and speaks perfect English. Whether I agreed or disagreed with him, this brilliant role model is definitely worth admiration and respect. As a trainer from the corporate world, I would give him a ten out of ten in presentation skills, attitude, and talent. As a woman who was insulted and humiliated in front of the whole crew, I would take it all back!

Let me start from the start! Moez was our guest on a few episodes and we had strict instructions from the editorial team not to bring up topics related to sex, homosexuality, virginity, dating, or Islamic legislation - “fatwa”. That day Moez came with his friend and avid follower Mohamed Diab – the dude who wrote El Gezira. For an unknown reason Mohamed shouldered the responsibility of looking after the interests and image of Moez. The first episode went well and although Moez relied on his personal charm than on his knowledge to get his message across, I still admired the guy and listened to his arguments with nothing but respect. Then the whole team had to change for the second episode and that was the beginning of the end.

Wardrobe is the responsibility of the stylist and that is directly coordinated with the editorial team and the director. Like everyone else, I went to change and I was handed my outfit - the outfit that put me to shame and disgrace! A pair of beige crop pants and a colorful crochet top underneath a long sleeve crochet black top. Mind you that I am far from busty, sort of skinny, and kind of demure and frail looking. I put on the cursed outfit and walked back to the set where Moez and Mohamed were sitting outside with some members of E7na team. Like a normal girl who has neither inhibitions nor passive aggression, I pulled a chair and joined them. Silence filed the air. Mohamed Diab gave me the “how dare you?” look and Moez offered me a sandwich.

I was still oblivious to the impact of my outfit when I walked back to the room where we were actually shooting. I sat in my place next to everyone else and waited for Moez to come in and start his episode. When that did not happen, I raised my head, looked outside, and saw what seemed like Moez refusing to come in and Diab speaking to one of the big guys. The team was getting restless and one of the editorial guys walked up to me and whispered in my ears “Marwa, can you change?” I said that I could not as my stubborn streak took over and suddenly everyone was looking for a scarf to hide my shoulders and whatever skin that upset Diab/Moez/God!!

A wave of numbness took over followed by a heat flush and an urge to cry. I left the room and ran to the next empty room. I hid my flushed face as I tried to work on my breathing. The editors followed asking me what went wrong and amidst my anger and indignation I howled something along the lines of “I am not coming out ... go ahead and shoot without me!” I was serious! Next thing I knew was Moez himself walking into the room, asking everyone to leave us together (alone), and asking me what was wrong. I asked the pious man sitting in front of me if he were not of afraid of me - the indecent unrespectable me. He kept his cool as he told me that it was not his fault and that being a public figure comes with certain pressures. He said a few things about his image and the problems he could get into because of my outfit. He talked about people and how he could be judged for accepting to shoot with me dressed like that on the same table. He told me that I did not arouse him sexually and asked if that was my skin showing through the crochet work. Moez apologized. He said he did not mean to insult me in any way right after telling me that he did not mean to make me feel like garbage; it was just job casualties so to speak. I am the master of this game; I know how to aim an apology that would sound like a second insult!

For the benefit of the team, I changed my top and went back to that table. I sat across Moez and looked him in the eye as he spoke of how women were sacred and how men forgot that women were more evolved creatures. He went on and on about respecting women, cherishing women, loving women, and remembering how Islam put women on a high pedestal. That was the moment when my receivers shut down one after the other; when I realized that he was just another one of “them”. In marketing terms, women were the segment he chose to target with his product; because of their emotional nature, they would be more receptive to his messages. He would certainly score more points with his soothing words; at a time when his patriarchal counterparts ignored females, here came the man who finally spoke some sense!

I have to admit that he is smart; if the women bought in, the kids would follow, and before you knew it, the men would follow too. Moez even tried to score points with a Christian colleague on the show by always addressing her as the representative of the church in the room and by repeating over and over that all religions are the same – was he thinking of converting her the same way he “cured” the homosexual guy? He was as fake, as pretentious, as superficial, and as gutless as the rest of them – the rest of those who gave in to the pressures of meeting peoples’ expectations and lost their true selves in the process. Moez Masoud allowed Diab to speak on his behalf, allowed the media to dictate his public image, allowed his personal relationships with other religious figures to decide which topics he was willing to address, allowed the gap between who he is and who he should be to grow wider, and allowed himself to judge me based on an outfit! In the middle of the shoot and with his usual smile and wit, Moaz Masoud said “God spare me Marwa Rakha’s evils!” – did he foresee this article coming?!

Campus - April 2008