Jiddo

Sunday morning i woke up, put on my gym cloth and went for a ritual jog with dad on the "corniche" (for those of you who do not know, the corniche is a long path along the sea in the middle of Beirut).
Once i arrived near Kantaki on Raouche i started my search. For who or what, u ask? For Jiddo (meaning grandfather), i answer.
Not my paternal or maternal Jiddo. But an old man stranger...a stranger that over years and years still managed to stay a stranger to me.
I first realized how important that stranger is to me when, 9 years ago, my drama class teacher handed us papers and pens and asked us to just write something...anything that comes to mind...and for some very weird reason the first thing that came to my mind was this old man. I was puzzled by that fact. I used to see Jiddo almost everyday on my way back from school. same timing, same route every single day. and i used to see him always in the same place next to Kantaki, by a garbage bin. But i never thought of that until i was asked to write "something". So i wrote about how intrigued i was by the life of this old man.
Days went by, i graduated from school, i no longer take same route at the same time back home. Moreover i travelled to study outside Lebanon, came back to work in Lebanon, then left again to work in London...BUT i never ever pass by Kantaki without looking around and hoping that Jiddo is still there...that he is still alive...and year after year Jiddo have not failed me.
I tried at many times to speak with him, let him know of my existence, let him be aware that i am aware of his existence. But i've never tried to know him more. Each time i approach him, i hand him a sum of money that i would keep away just for him, he says "Shukran"and that is about it!
So who is he? what does he do? is he a beggar? does he work in Kantaki? does he take the garbage out? does he have a family? does he have a home? how old is he? and...what is his name?
Same morning, i got the news that a family friend's dad passed away. I went to pay my condolences. I do not personally know her father, however i was very sad for her loss. That morning i accompanied the wife of the deceased to her home in order for her to put on some black cloth. It was the first time she goes to their home after her husband passed away...it was a pain feeling this old lady's pain while going through his things, his glasses, his newspaper and so on. And i thought...what about Jiddo? Who will be there when he dies? Who will be at his funeral? I have been seeing this man solo for 10 years, i could not imagine him with a life of his own.
I guess i will never know...but i learned something very important from Jiddo. And that is to be aware of the people around me, to give them the chance and the right to be part of my life. So i owe it to Jiddo that my waiting times at the coffee shop every single morning are much more enjoyable, now that i got to know the staff that works there, i owe it to him that i am not naming my daughter Alegria (meaning Joy in spanish) since this spanish lady who works at Itshu (where i get my lunch almost everyday) made fun of me when i told her that, and i thought it was an original name! How many times do we get into and out of the tube per day? How many faces do we see just in the tube and the tube station? How degrading are tube rides? There are certainly many people who live across the street from you who take same route everyday at same time to work... Imagine u could pinpoint Jiddosss in the tube. Familiar faces, familiar voices...Imagine u could SPEAK to them...how much less painful the ride would be?
I owe it to Jiddo that everyday that goes by, especially in a humongous city like London, is a more personalized day and a less lonely day.
Jiddo will probably never be aware that i am writing this about him...but thank you Jiddo.

Furaha

Changes

So i was in this yoga class...and the instructor was giving some introduction to the practice we were going to go through during the class, apparently a different practice to the normal class she gives ( i wouldn't know as it was the fist time i attend her class). The reason was, she was going through a lot of changes in her life: a break up, an injury, change of careers...The yoga class will emphasis on subtle movements and series of postures to embrace "change".
Then she asked: "Who is going through some major changes in their life?" "Who feels everything about their life is flipping around? Who is totally out of their comfort zone at the moment and just feel so disconnected?"
And i felt as if she was just describing me. Its totally me...i can bet no one other then ME. Since my last blog lots have changed. Got my work permit to London, quite my job, quite my life in Beirut, left my family and friends and just...woush...vanished! I arrive to london move in to a new flat, in a new neighbourhood, new mini markets around, new coffee shops near by, new pharmacy i drop by, i started a new job, met new colleagues, have new assignments, well everything was new . They're certainly not new...but all new to me!
So i look around in the class, while widely nodding my head up and down to affirmatively conquer with the instructor, only to realize that almost everyone in the class was nodding just as wide as me! So what? are they ALL going through the same exact thing? Doesnt my big fat move to london beat all off their changes combined??
And i started thinking...when was the last time i did not feel my life is flipping around?that i am going through a change?that everything around me is constant and stable but i am not? And i simply couldnt remember that time where i was at ease and happily stable.
It got me thinking...will i ever reach that point? if the 50 year old in the class was nodding just as the 40 and 30 and 20 years old that means something. And i was sad...sad to know that all the "changes" i am doing now to reach this one point will only induce more changes.
I had a 1.5 hour class of right leg back, plank pose, cobra, downward facing dog, right leg to the front, left leg to the front, inhale and look up...and during these series of postures i reflected and concluded that my life will keep on changing. So why dont i make that the constant thing in my life. Why dont all these changes become the center of my life and instead of putting EVERYTHING on hold, till im over this or im over that, why dont i incorporate all of the EVERYTIHNG in my "stablely" changing life?
Hence i decided to go back to writing my blog before online shopping for a heater to my extremely cold little new flat...
furaha xxx

My life without me

I went few days ago to watch a movie called "My life without me". It's about a 24 years old girl, married with 2 children, who discovers she has cancer and has 2 months to live. So she wrote a list of things to do before she dies. Typical story...but for some reason it felt so real.

She starts her last 2 months journey by saying: "It feels like my whole life has been a dream...and i just woke up from that dream".

If you look at her to-do list, you'll find typical drink/dance, travel, kiss another man and so on type of things...However, most of it was planning for her life without her...for after she passes away...things like finding a wife for her husband that her daughters will like, recording tapes for her kids' birthdays, making sure everything will be up and running after she's dead.

Then i remembered "The Bucket List" movie... 2 old strangers, who also have few months to live, met in the hospital and decided to leave behind their families and friends and go on with their own crazy to-do list.

Two completely different approaches to preparing to die. the girl wanted to make it all better to her family and friends...wanted to see how would life go on without her.she became much less selfish, much more extravert, and the people that she loved the most mattered the most. However the 2 old men felt they've missed on so many things in life and wanted to do all of that in the few days they had left, caring less about what they'll be leaving behind.

In some twisted kind of way, knowing when and how u will die gives u a flavor of what life is really all about. I wonder if i will ever have the chance to know that, or wake up from that "dream" just like the girl. and when i do i wonder what would "really" matter?

furaha xxx

Momeyyy...how are we moving backwards?

Last week i was in London and i decided to take a one day trip to the beautiful town of 'Bath'. My cam round my neck, guided voice clips on my ipod and a map in hand i took the train and went. The city of bath is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The combination of beautiful Georgian architecture and stunning scenery made it all so worth the trip. I started my day with a 4 hours spa at the Thermae Bath Spa. Spent 2 hours at their rooftop pool, filled with the naturally warm (very warm), mineral-rich waters which the Celts and Romans enjoyed over 2,000 years ago. Then followed 2 hours of massage and exfoliation and all the pampering stuff. After a full relaxation i headed to Sally Lunn Bun's, recommended by my colleague Ray. Basically, it is a bakery that Ms. Sally open in 1968 and few years later her secret recipe for buns was rediscovered and they re still produced till this day. Very much worth a taste!
Then i just walked around enjoying the scenery and the music festival and the exquisite architecture. I met many tourists, one interesting old man who kept on telling me sayings by Wiliam Churchil, one of which i still remember:
In the middle of an argument, a lady said to Mr. Churchil:
-Sir, if i were your wife i would not think twice about poisoning your drink
Then he replied:
-Madam, if i were your husband i would want that very very much!

On my way back, a mother with 2 kids, aged 7 and 12 i would say, were sitting behind me. The train was moving in opposite direction to how we were sitting, so the 7 years old asked his mom: "Mommey...how are we moving backwards?"

His question kept me thinking the whole trip back to London. I was asking myself, if my own kid asked me this question, how would i answer? Had he asked "why" are we moving backwards, i would have said "because we are sitting in opposite direction". But the kid asked "HOW"...and i just couldn't find an answer...Then, for the next few days, in the bus and in the tube, i paid attention to little children around me and listen to their questions... and i found that to be so entertaining, intriguing and sometimes a riddle like questions!

Message in a bottle

time to be creative and productive...watch this video to, perhaps, get inspired

http://www.creamglobal.com/17798/21966/message-in-a-bottle

Air Liban

Well if u ever travelled back on a MEA flight back to lebanon you'll know exactly what i am talking about. For those of u who have not, let me enlighten you.
I have just came back from London last night and i had an interesting trip
After spending many many hours trying really hard to sleep, and of course in vain since we lebanese would "loudly" chat with our own shadow if we had to, the plane is about to land. That's when usually the lights go dim and Fairus's songs are played. That's when usually silence reins preparing to land. But not on Air Liban.
Everyone became like a corn seed popping left and right trying to glimpse at the windows pointing out "ramlet el bayda" and "raouche"and the famous holiday inn and and and...They didnt fail to happily notice that the electricity was on for that night because unlike other countries, electricity isn't a "ca va sans dire" specially in certain areas. And then all i hear are comments like "how beautiful is lebanon"or "nothing like lebanon" or "äre you prepared to give teta and jiddo a hug?". And of course, then comes the famous cheerful clap after a successful landing in appreciation to the captain followed by "bravo"s.
I have been so annoyed my whole life by that clap. i never understood it. just like never understood why can't we just stay seated till the belt signs go off. Or why can't we wait till we open our phones till we get out of the plane. why can't we just respect the plane's rules??!! and for God's sake...why can't we just...NOT CLAP?
but yest i tried to be the annoying chatter, the clapper, the excited lebanese happy to come back home. and for once i understood what those lebanese feel. I have landed in cyprus with cypriotes, in greece with greeks, in turkey with turkish, in tanzania with tanzanian, in india with indian, in america with americans, in france with french, in UK with british, in tunisia with tunisians, even in egypt with egyptians, in emirates, in saudi arabia and so on...Not once i have ever experienced this.not once i felt the enthusiasm and the over excitement to just get out of the plane and be in the country. This love we lebanese have for our country is to be cherished. And, about that clap, our pilots are kick ass pilots after all. Don't they deserve a little cheerful clap? Why not? And do we really really need to have our belts on even after the plane has landed and is moving at the slowest pace ever to park? and does our cell phones really really interfere with a sophisticated airplane software?
next time you travel, remember to be the clapper...not the annoyed person going "tsk tsk tsk"...trust me it is much more fun!

Las Mofas Magicas (The Magic Glasses)

Two weeks ago i was holding a meeting on Violence Agaisnt Women at UN-ESCWA. During one of the sessions this video titled "Las Mofas Magicas" (meaning the magic glasses) was screened. Please take a moment to watch it...it's only 15 minutes. 15 minutes have passed and no one of the 20 participants moved or even blinked. For a week we were trying to define and explain violence against women. We were trying to conceptualize it and put meaning to it. But after these 15 minutes have passed, i realized that everything looks different when las mofas magicas are on. Not only that...but i also realized that each and everyone of us wears his own mofas magicas. Its like DNA...to each his own tastes, own personality, own appearance and..own experiences. I will take the opportunity in this blog to show u what's beyond my mofas magicas and try to make u see through them:) Enjoy!