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Monday, October 13, 2008

On the Dating Scene in Egypt - from The Poison Tree - planted & grown in Egypt

Clap Clap, girls and boys are playing musical chairs … an easy game on the dating scene … just jump on an empty chair … just get an available guy … just get an available girl … and as you let go of her, make sure you grab another girl … as you jump boats, make sure you left nothing behind … ditch your partners … switch your partners … just keep going in circles around the musical chairs …

What is happening to us? How did we get trapped in an endless game of musical chairs? Why did we agree to the rules of play? Who told us not to stop? Guys, why do you play ball with your girls? Girls, why do you play dummies with your guys? Isn’t it sad? Isn’t it pathetic? Isn’t it disgusting?!! False pretences, facades, maneuvers, fake words, shallow appearances, and out-of-this-world expectations rule this fiasco.

Egyptian men are caught between what they like and what they want; they like the girls that their minds do not want and they want the girls that their hearts do not like. A typical example of this schizophrenic condition is the single version of the cool guy who is seen in all the trendy hangouts, drinks, dances, flirts, dates, and the sky is the limit when it comes to how far he could go with his adventures. Mr. Cool likes girls who share his wild rides and challenge his hunter instinct; who are exposed, experienced, and expressive.

If it is just dating and having a nice time, Mr. Cool has no problem. But when it comes to the forever word, Mr. Cool takes off his cool mask and in a strict tone describes the girl he wants; traditional, conservative, religious, sheltered, and controllable. But is Mr. Cool willing to alter his lifestyle? Is he willing to become an equal match for the girl he wants? No! No! This is not how this story goes. Mr. Cool will eventually get married to a girl who will not threaten his sense of security; who has no benchmarks to measure his performance, in and out of bed, against; who is just grateful to have him in her life. Then he will leave her at home to take care of his house and his kids while he pursues the girls he likes.

This is not the end of Mr. Cool … you will see the married version of Mr. Cool in the colleague who hits on you at work, in the client who puts you in one hand and the business deal in the other, in the werewolf who hunts you in outings and chases you in parties – all of them sounding like a broken record when they tell you how unhappy they are in their marriages; how they need someone who understands them and shares their dreams; how they miss communication and passion in their homes …… sounds too familiar?!!!

Egyptian girls, on the other hand, lost touch with who they really are and what they really want. Most of us do not know what we like any more. As “good girls” we should dress up in a certain way, go out to specific places, be seen in the company of particular people, be home by this or that socially agreed upon time, and the “good girl” list goes on. It is as if we were born in this world to meet other peoples’ expectations regardless of who we are. Our dreams are always blurred by the influence of a higher authority that dictates the code of conduct we should abide by to gain acceptance.

Someone once told me that human beings have three dimensions; how you see yourself, how others see you, and how you want others to see you. The closer the distance between the three dimensions the more at peace you are and the more stable you become. How many girls do you see everyday stretching their three dimensions east, west, south, and north? They are bending over backwards, denying their needs, turning against their true selves. Take a close look at a sequence of actions that contradict the words, words that defy the body language, and body language that is at war with the eyes - all in an attempt to meet expectations, gain respect, get approval, and win a ring on the naked left finger!

If girls compare their expectations of a man when they were sixteen and what they are willing to accept from a man now, they will see how far they are willing to compromise. Is it growing up or growing desperate that drove us so far down the ladder of expectations? An assembled package of your average guy replaced the tailor-made prince-charming; a married man will do if he has the money, a younger guy will do if he has the looks, any man will do if he can make it to the alter!

The cycle continues and, like a game of cards, when you throw a card away someone picks it up and when you pick a new card up you have to know that it was thrown away by another player in the game. With a mask on his face he promised to love her forever and with a mask on her face she swore she has never played before. The music is still playing ... cards are handed … cards are thrown … chairs are vacant … chairs are taken … and the game goes on!

Bang Bang, you shot me down, Bang Bang, I hit the ground,
Bang Bang, that awful sound, Bang Bang, my baby shot me down!

http://laila-eg.blogspot.com/

On Marital Fidelity - from The Poison Tree - planted and Grown in Egypt

As I drove to the office on a gray winter morning, My Immortal was playing on the radio and for a few minutes I was lost in my thoughts; I wondered what Evanescence meant. I took a mental note and decided to check it out when I went to work. The song went on and on; the lyrics and the soul-penetrating voice of Amy Lee touched a place deep down in my heart reminding me that there is just too much that time cannot erase. Memories raced with my thoughts until I reached my destination, and in my office, I sat myself on my desk, switched on my computer, and looked up the meaning of the word that I toyed with throughout my drive.

Merriam Webster’s online dictionary said Evanescence means vanish; to dissipate like vapor; to cease to be visible; to disappear. In a game of word association, using any of those words would remind the player of mercury, perfume, or any other substance known for vaporizing. Thinking of it myself, the first thought that came to my mind was a visual image of a man who came to our house a few years ago asking for my hand in an arranged marriage setup. My mother was so excited about me meeting Mr. Perfect; he was young, tall, dark, handsome, successful, well off, and open-minded. Mr. Perfect was willing to see me even though he knew that I was living on my own, I had a career, I traveled a lot, and I am not the compromising type. Mom was certain that she would get to see me in a wedding gown in no time!

As I walked in the room, my eyes captured his deep black eyes, wide smile, and graceful posture. I smiled back at him approvingly and as the evening went on I realized that he is also charismatic, witty, and has a great sense of humor. My mother was happy with the way the conversation was going and his mother was ever so cheerful.

Suddenly the room was filled with a heavy silence and all heads turned to me as I asked Mr. Perfect if he was the faithful type. The question just flew out of my mouth and it was too late to take it back. In an attempt to pursue the topic I raised, I said with a struggling smile “I mean will you be able to write me a paper that states that if I caught you cheating on me, you would pay me a million dollars? I would write you the same paper guaranteeing you my faithfulness.” Clearly my attempt to sugarcoat my bomb of a question failed as the silence grew louder.

All it took from Mr. Not-So-Perfect was a clear audible “NO” as an answer to my question, to bring my green-eyed monster out of its cave. My mother, totally baffled, asked the guests if they wanted some sweets; but nothing would stop the provoked monster from its righteous attack; I repeated my question again highlighting the facts that I expected my husband to be loyal; that I liked to play fair and square; that it was a two way street; that from a religious stance, marital infidelity is a big sin that men and women get stoned to death for.

Again I kept getting nonsensical replies from the groom-to-be. Matrimonial devotion did not seem to suit his notions. After a long debate that brought my mom to the verge of a heart attack, and brought his mother to a noticeable level of disapproval of the bride-to-be, I told him with one of my super aggressive tones “So now you are in our house, looking at my mother, asking to marry me, and you are letting us both know in advance that you would not be faithful?” I was not being sarcastic; this IS what I heard “Marry me and I promise to cheat on you.” He said nothing but his body subconsciously turned to face the door and his mother saved him when she signaled that it was time to leave.

My mother was more than unhappy when they left; she was livid and she kept wondering what she did wrong to deserve a daughter like me. I tried to point out to her where I was coming from but her main argument was that all men were the same and that I was not going to change the world; as long as the husband came back to his house, wife, and kids then he was a good man and a woman should not ask questions that would lead to a confrontation of any kind. This was how a good wife kept the father of her kids and saved her home! She told me over and over that all men have “little” affairs and women ignore them. She told me that men have different needs and it was their right to attend to those needs. Finally she gave up and gave me that look that signified the end of the discussion and I left the house.

So for me, in a word association game, evanescence would be associated with marriage vows that evaporate faster than mercury and sink quicker than a lead ball; with love that flees the merciless scars of infidelity; with a melting sense of commitment; with a fading respect for family. This was not the end of the sad story; it got worse when I shared the details of my “date” with my friends … they called me a fool; told me that there were no more men who wanted to get married; that who cared what a man did outside the house; that what I did not know about would not hurt me. They sounded so much like my mom and I felt alienated from their world.

Of course Mr. Not-So-Perfect had every right to walk away. With his God-given qualities and mouthwatering attributes he could easily land any girl he wanted for a marriage bargain. Why would he bother with me and with my “radical” opinions? Why did he have to justify his actions and keep his promises? He did not need to resist temptation if he knew in advance that he would be forgiven. Men created a big myth ages ago and women believed it; they claimed that their physical needs are much higher than those of a woman and used that as an excuse to justify their shameful behavior. They said they got bored of “eating the same dish everyday” and they needed the change. They kept feeding women lies for generation after the other. My grand mother, my mother, and my friends fell for that lie and now I am asked to go with the flow.

I am no longer angry at Mr. Not-So-Perfect … my anger is directed at the girls who suffer from an extreme condition of low self esteem; who locked their pride in sealed bottles and threw them in oblivion; who willingly subject themselves to the double edge of treason and rejection; who would prefer sleeping with the enemy than sleeping alone. I get bored too; I crave for a change just as much as men do. I needed to feel desirable and wanted when I was 18 and 28 and when I will be 38, 48, 58 and forever. Still, I would respect my vows of loyalty and commitment to my husband. Infidelity hits the woman’s pride; takes its toll on her self-esteem; makes her feel rejected, unwanted, and unfit. If only men knew how much damage they were causing and how deep of a scar they were leaving.

Here goes my girlish dream of happily ever after … to cherish and to hold vanished into thin air … to love and to honor evanesced into dark vapors … until death do us part is just an anagram of “another stupid adult”. Seriously ... reshuffle the letters and you get ANOTHER STUPID ADULT.

http://laila-eg.blogspot.com/

Friday, October 10, 2008

لماذا يا أمى؟ (كلنا ليلى) م



اجلست ابنتى امامى و قلت لها

"بكرة هنروح للدكتور"

قالت و الخوف يملأ صوتها

"ليه يا ماما؟ أنا مش عيانة"

أمسكت يدها الصغيرة و قلت لها

"هى عملية صغيرة و مش هتحسى بحاجة"

ردت تترجانى

"ليه يا ماما؟ انا مش عيانة"

راقبت ابتسامتها تختفى خلف غيمة من دموع بريئة و وجد نفسى ابكى لى و لها و لكل امرأة ختنت ظلما و غدرا

و جدت نفسى اطرح نفس سؤالها
"لماذا يا أمى؟"

تذكرت عندما كنت فى نفس عمر ابنتى حينما اعتدلت امى فى جلستها. تذكرت نظراتها. تذكرت انقطاع حوارها الهامس مع خالاتى و جاراتنا عند دخولى. تذكرت نظراتهم لى – نظرات من يعرف لمن لا يعرف! لا أعرف أكانت نظرات شفقة أم شماتة كنظرة الام قبل ضرب ابنها. تلك النظرة التى تمتزج فيها القسوة بالحب. نظرة يعرفها كل من عوقب بلا ذنب اقترفه. لماذا يا أمى؟

تذكرت آلامى حينما افقت من البنج. تذكرت احساسى بالغدر. نعم يا أمى لقد غدرت بى. لقد بترتى طفولتى و اهدرتى انوثتى. لقد كذبتى على. لقد و عدتينى بالحب و الأمان. أنا ضائعة! إلتئم الجرح و لكنى انكسرت. ظهرى انحنى. نظرتى انطفئت. لقد اغتصبت! نعم يا أمى لقد اغتصبت حقى فى أن أكون امرأة. لقد عاقبتينى لأنى ولدت أنثى. أنا الأمانة بين يديك تتكلم. وضعنى ربى كائن ضعيف فى رعايتك. لماذا استغللت ضعفى؟ لماذا يا أمى؟

لماذا ينظر لى زوجى كأنى جماد؟ أنا جماد! لماذا لا ينظر لى زوجى كأمراة؟ أنا مشوة! أنا مسخ! لماذا لا يلمسنى يا أمى؟ لماذا اطفئ النور كلما اقترب منى؟ لماذا أبكى كلما عاشرنى؟ لماذا لا أشعر بحبه؟ لماذا توقفت عن حبه؟ لماذا تعودت الاستلقاء على ظهرى و النظر للسقف؟ أكنت تستلقى على ظهرك و تنتظرى انتهاء مهمته؟ أكنت تجرى إلى الحمام للاغتسال من دموع لوثها القهر؟ لماذا تحولت الى وعاء؟ لماذا تحولت إلى مرحاض؟ لماذا أكره انفاس الرجل الذى لم أتمنى غيره زوجا؟ لماذا أرى فى عينيه نفس النظرة التى طالما حيرتنى فى وجه أبى؟ نظرة رجل بلا إمرأة! آه يا أمى

لماذا تحولت من جسد إنسان إلى وسادة بالية؟ لماذا أكره النظر لنفسى فى المرآة؟ لماذا يا أمى اخترت لى طريق الدموع و الدماء؟ دموع طفلة تبكى دماء براءتها. دموع فتاة نزفت بكارتها. دموع امرأة فقدت آدميتها. لماذا حكمت على بالموت حيه؟ قتلتينى كالدبة التى قتلت صاحبها و هى تحاول أن تحميه. صاحب الدبة مات أما أنا فسجينة جسد لا ينطق و لا يشعر و لا ينتشى. لماذا حكمت على يا أمى أن أحيا حياة رجل عاجز جنسيا؟

"الختان مكرمة للبنت" - قالها الشيخ فتقلصت معدتى. مكرمة الذل و الهوان. مكرمة لا أراها فى عينى زوجى. مكرمة لا أشعر بها و أنا ملقاه كالجثة على فراش الزوجية. مكرمة أشعر بها كلما أحسست بزوجى يشتهى امرأة أخرى. مكرمة تتملكنى كلما أحسست بعجزى كامرأة و بضعفى كطفلة. لماذا يا أمى تطالبين بنفس المصير لابنتى؟ لماذا يا زوجى العزيز تريد لابنتك نفس معاناة زوجتك؟ لماذا يا أمى؟

تعالى يا ابنتى ... تعالى فى حضنى

"لا يا حبيبة قلبى و أجمل ما فى عمرى ... انت لست مريضة و بعد الشر عليكى من المرض. مافيش دكتور. مافيش عملية. أنت زى الفل يا بنت قلبى يا غالية!" سلام يا أمى
http://laila-eg.blogspot.com/

Thursday, September 25, 2008

The Poison Tree - planted & grown in Egypt


Now on Amazon.com

Check it out

The Poison Tree is not a traditional novel; it combines the techniques of blogging, journal-keeping, and formal writing while retaining one binding thought that keeps the story together; poison is the fertile ground that I, and many others, was born into; a poisoned culture nurtured my roots with suffocating traditions, taboos, and beliefs; poison runs through my stem.

I branched out and my branches carried me far away from the roots and the ground. I questioned the tutoring of my conservative society and green leaves covered my bare branches. My tree bore its fruits; poisoned fruits that were the poison of many who dropped dead next to the solid stubborn tree.

This is a book about love, marriage, divorce, sex, dating, virginity, adult dating, religion, shame, taboos, gender wars and fear that grew and blossomed on my poison tree.

Dedicated to every female trying to break free and to every male who is willing to give her a chance.


Barak Obama verus Mabrouk Obama




Thursday, September 18, 2008

Why do Egyptians Get Divorced?

This question has been circulating a lot in many unrelated circles nowadays.

On Facebook, Alyaa Gad, an Egyptian physician living abroad, was shocked to know that:

the governmental Central Body for Mobilisation and Statistics (CBMS) found that 75,000 divorce cases have been ruled on by Egyptian courts in 2006-2007, the survey found that in 45,000 cases the reason behind the divorce was the Internet.”

Read More

Young Egyptian Women Do Not Want to Work

While some women are still struggling to prove themselves in the workplace, the young generation of Egyptian men and women seems to be taking a different route.

Fantasia was watching an episode of El Beyoot Asrar (Homes have Secrets) where they were talking about women and whether they should work or not.

Read More

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Egypt: Another Doweika Tragedy Waiting to Happen!

Students at the faculty of Engineering in Alexandria University created a group on Facebook called “The Mokattam Catastrophe to be repeated in the faculty of Engineering.”

The student's cry follows a tragedy in Doweika, a Cairo slum, where rocks came tumbling on homes, killing and maiming scores of poor people.

In the description of the group the students wrote:

Read more

Egypt: Who are those People … in the People's Assembly?

In the aftermath of the Egyptian Parliament going up in flames, people's reactions ranged from utter shock, sadness, to gloating. Blogger Wael Nawara conducted an independent poll asking bloggers, readers, and Egyptian internet users to answer the following question: Does the Egyptian Parliament truly represent the people?

The poll's results were announced today on his blog:

Read more

Suez Canal donates 1,000,000 Egyptian Pounds to Doweika Victims

Like Asser Mattar, many Egyptians were happy to find out that Suez Canal canceled its annual celebration on September 14 to donate a total of one million Egyptian Pounds to support the victims of the Doweika tragedy. Scores of people were killed and injured when huge rocks fell on 35 homes in the slum in one of Cairo's poorest neighbourhoods.

In his Facebook note, Asser started by quoting Suez Canal revenues in August 2008:

One of the main headlines that I read on a monthly basis is that the revenues of
Suez Canal broke a new record. Yes, it happened on a monthly basis for at least
the whole past year. The revenues never decrease, and the Suez Canal tolls for
those of you who don't know are collected in US dollars, which is equal nowadays
to approximately 5.4 Egyptian pounds.

After the Doweika catastrophe,
where at least six hundred people were buried alive under the rubble of Moqattam
hill, Asser decided to calculate how much time does it take Suez Canal to earn
the one million pounds.

Read more