I recently came across this quote while reading something online:
"We're born alone, we live alone, we die
alone. Only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion
for the moment that we're not alone."
I supposed I remembered it because I can't help but feel that in all the bustling of life, we are infinitely alone. When I came back to Toronto from Egypt, I hoped and even expected that I would get help from people that I knew and loved with certain things. And over the past month and a half I have come to realize that most people live only for themselves, and have little or no desire to lend a hand to someone else (regardless of his/her affinity towards the other).
I don't claim to be the one person out of one hundred that actually helps people when they are in need, but I always thought of myself as someone who, when given the opportunity and means to help someone, would do so.
The fact that people can feign concern for you and your well-being in such a seemingly genuine way, then discard you when you're in a time of need disturbs me. It makes me question many things that I thought I knew. It makes parts of me that I didn't realize could hurt, hurt.
At the end of everything, it's truly only God that you can lean and rely on. No other person can give you what He does, or plant the seeds of serenity in your heart. But I wish I could see more good in people, too, because the more selfish and uncaring humans that I come to know, the more I fear I may be just like them.
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Friday, August 24, 2012
on being late
It has always made me wonder - the fact that your life can be so full of things and people, but still feel lonely and without meaning. I've been building my whole life in the hopes that one day I would be someone, do something. But mostly I feel that I've disappointed myself and the people around me.
I know that the absolute truth should always make us realize that God always has a plan for us beyond our own limited imaginations. Perhaps my life was not meant to have significant meaning in and of itself. Maybe my son or daughter is meant to be someone, to do something. Perhaps the meaning of my life is tied to that of the billions of others who have passed and are passing through this world without really touching the ground with their bare hands to understand truth and pain and life.
The older I grow, the more I come to know that more things inside me are broken than I can fix.
I know that the absolute truth should always make us realize that God always has a plan for us beyond our own limited imaginations. Perhaps my life was not meant to have significant meaning in and of itself. Maybe my son or daughter is meant to be someone, to do something. Perhaps the meaning of my life is tied to that of the billions of others who have passed and are passing through this world without really touching the ground with their bare hands to understand truth and pain and life.
The older I grow, the more I come to know that more things inside me are broken than I can fix.
Sunday, June 17, 2012
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Tips
This may seem like it's coming out of left field, but: I don't believe in a system that involves tips. When I say tips, I mean the petty change we give to the people who serve us food at restaurants, or pump our gas, or deliver pizza to our doors.
Perhaps I've been thinking about this since giving tips in Egypt is a daily occurrence. Everyone expects tips for everything. If someone so much as helps you park your car into a tight space, you tip him. I'm not too fond of the practice - not because I'm cheap (although I probably am), but because the concept of it is somewhat offensive.
I believe in a system where everyone is paid adequately for the work that he or she does, and therefore does not require tips to enhance his/her paycheck. If that means that I automatically get charged an extra 12% service fee at a restaurant, that's fine. If it means that my taxes are a bit higher in order to help small businesses pay their employees a decent wage, that's also fine. I'd rather pay slightly higher prices for goods, than be required to tip people at the end of my experience.
I don't know why I find the practice demeaning to both the giver and receiver of said tips, but it is. Then again, paying higher prices probably just means that the owners of the company will pocket the extra dough. I think that's the essential problem - some people really can't afford life without tips since their employers don't pay them adequately at all. And I don't think "minimum wage" is really upheld here.
Anyway, my point is that the government sucks, and that trickles down onto everything else, making everything else suck as well. Extra points awarded for eloquence.
Perhaps I've been thinking about this since giving tips in Egypt is a daily occurrence. Everyone expects tips for everything. If someone so much as helps you park your car into a tight space, you tip him. I'm not too fond of the practice - not because I'm cheap (although I probably am), but because the concept of it is somewhat offensive.
I believe in a system where everyone is paid adequately for the work that he or she does, and therefore does not require tips to enhance his/her paycheck. If that means that I automatically get charged an extra 12% service fee at a restaurant, that's fine. If it means that my taxes are a bit higher in order to help small businesses pay their employees a decent wage, that's also fine. I'd rather pay slightly higher prices for goods, than be required to tip people at the end of my experience.
I don't know why I find the practice demeaning to both the giver and receiver of said tips, but it is. Then again, paying higher prices probably just means that the owners of the company will pocket the extra dough. I think that's the essential problem - some people really can't afford life without tips since their employers don't pay them adequately at all. And I don't think "minimum wage" is really upheld here.
Anyway, my point is that the government sucks, and that trickles down onto everything else, making everything else suck as well. Extra points awarded for eloquence.
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Cultural Ambiguity
If you ask an average Canadian what "Canadian culture" is, chances are he/she may not have an answer. When I think about Canadian culture, I automatically go to a place where I think maple syrup, hockey, dry humour. Not much else comes to mind (besides a history of deeply-entrenched racism - but let's put that aside for now).
Oddly enough, I miss the cultural black hole that is Canada. It gives you room to make your own culture, to establish your own sense of belonging, on your own terms. Sure, there are societal expectations with regards to a general sense of politeness, but besides that, not much else.
Your family is the essential source of cultural upbringing, meaning that each family has its own set of rules and understandings. I miss my family's culture, which as I have learned, is far from that of Egyptian culture. Mostly, I miss just being me without having others judge on the appropriateness of my behaviour based solely on "what is just done" in their culture.
Home, how I long for thee.
Oddly enough, I miss the cultural black hole that is Canada. It gives you room to make your own culture, to establish your own sense of belonging, on your own terms. Sure, there are societal expectations with regards to a general sense of politeness, but besides that, not much else.
Your family is the essential source of cultural upbringing, meaning that each family has its own set of rules and understandings. I miss my family's culture, which as I have learned, is far from that of Egyptian culture. Mostly, I miss just being me without having others judge on the appropriateness of my behaviour based solely on "what is just done" in their culture.
Home, how I long for thee.
Sunday, April 08, 2012
Cat calls
I was walking down the street yesterday afternoon when I passed a man standing beside his truck. I could tell he was staring at me, but most Egyptians have staring problems, so I didn't give it a second thought. But right as I passed him, and my ear was at the same level as his mouth, he called me "3asal" (i.e. honey). I ignored him and quickly passed, but I was so disgusted that it took me all my willpower to not turn around and say something to him that I would've probably regretted.
Part of me always thought it was only the girls who didn't wear hijab or wore tight, revealing clothes that were harassed by men. I was wrong. I was wearing a long skirt and long loose shirt and my hijab covered everything that it should, not to mention a wedding ring. So logically speaking, according to my appearance I should be safe from cat calls, but obviously this isn't the case.
It has happened a couple of times before (naturally only when I'm alone), and each time I was wearing clothes that were more modest than the last time. This kind of thing makes me dislike going out alone, which is frustrating since I'm used to being an independent person. Needless to say, I now fully understand why some women choose to wear the niqab in Egypt.
It's not really about a woman's beauty, it's about the lack of care and restraint shown by many men in this society. It's about this type of thing being acceptable and not taken seriously by most people. In fact, I've seen many girls giggle to each other when men around them make comments, like it's funny. It's not funny. To me it's a question of power. Those men are exerting their apparently God-given right and power over random women. Women are forced into experiencing disrespect and sexual harassment, while harbouring the fear of violence or being exposed to humiliation if they fight back.
The power struggle between men and women becomes very obvious in these cases. Let's be honest, men do have that power of women - the power to make them feel weak, objectified, one dimensional. To me it seems that the more power men lose, the more they feel the need to exert their power on someone deemed to be weaker.
Naturally this isn't a unique characteristic found solely in Egyptian society - it's almost universal, which is sad.
Part of me always thought it was only the girls who didn't wear hijab or wore tight, revealing clothes that were harassed by men. I was wrong. I was wearing a long skirt and long loose shirt and my hijab covered everything that it should, not to mention a wedding ring. So logically speaking, according to my appearance I should be safe from cat calls, but obviously this isn't the case.
It has happened a couple of times before (naturally only when I'm alone), and each time I was wearing clothes that were more modest than the last time. This kind of thing makes me dislike going out alone, which is frustrating since I'm used to being an independent person. Needless to say, I now fully understand why some women choose to wear the niqab in Egypt.
It's not really about a woman's beauty, it's about the lack of care and restraint shown by many men in this society. It's about this type of thing being acceptable and not taken seriously by most people. In fact, I've seen many girls giggle to each other when men around them make comments, like it's funny. It's not funny. To me it's a question of power. Those men are exerting their apparently God-given right and power over random women. Women are forced into experiencing disrespect and sexual harassment, while harbouring the fear of violence or being exposed to humiliation if they fight back.
The power struggle between men and women becomes very obvious in these cases. Let's be honest, men do have that power of women - the power to make them feel weak, objectified, one dimensional. To me it seems that the more power men lose, the more they feel the need to exert their power on someone deemed to be weaker.
Naturally this isn't a unique characteristic found solely in Egyptian society - it's almost universal, which is sad.
Monday, April 02, 2012
Lawlessness
It is now apparently an Egyptian thing to have your purse snatched off your shoulder by a passing motorcycle/rickshaw driver. Yup, they just speed past you, extend their arm and WOOSH grab that thing and race off. Also, if you're wearing visible jewelry like a necklace, they will grab it off your neck (as they did to my aunt, who now refuses to ever wear jewelry in public).
I suppose your run-of-the-mill muggings wouldn't work that well here since, if he was on foot, average people would run after the thief and beat him up. So I guess this is the next best thing, considering it's hard to catch a thief that has already sped away. And you can think again if you believe the "police" will be of any help.
Alhamdulillah, it has never happened to me - and I hope my high levels of paranoia will ensure that it never does. I never carry an over-the-shoulder purse when I'm alone. Always one that crosses over my chest. Or if I can afford to, I just put my things in my pockets and forgo carrying a purse at all.
Also, the traffic situation (now that cops are nowhere to be found) is just insane. You'll find 2-3 cars trying to fit into a one lane street. Cars are parked in every possible place. Nobody obeys traffic lights or one-way street signs. I suppose driving has always been pretty bad here, but now it's so much worse, if you can possibly imagine.
Basically, I'm living in chaos. Bye.
I suppose your run-of-the-mill muggings wouldn't work that well here since, if he was on foot, average people would run after the thief and beat him up. So I guess this is the next best thing, considering it's hard to catch a thief that has already sped away. And you can think again if you believe the "police" will be of any help.
Alhamdulillah, it has never happened to me - and I hope my high levels of paranoia will ensure that it never does. I never carry an over-the-shoulder purse when I'm alone. Always one that crosses over my chest. Or if I can afford to, I just put my things in my pockets and forgo carrying a purse at all.
Also, the traffic situation (now that cops are nowhere to be found) is just insane. You'll find 2-3 cars trying to fit into a one lane street. Cars are parked in every possible place. Nobody obeys traffic lights or one-way street signs. I suppose driving has always been pretty bad here, but now it's so much worse, if you can possibly imagine.
Basically, I'm living in chaos. Bye.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
What is Love?
What is Love? Baby don't hurt me, don't hurt me, no more. (Okay, I can move on now that those lyrics are out of my head.)
Over the past year, my world view has changed significantly, mostly because I moved half-way across the globe and got married. I've learned more about "love" in the past year than I have in my entire lifetime. Still, I don't presume that I know any more than just the tip of the iceberg. The things I've learned aren't all that commonly expressed in popular culture. Pop songs are all about burning desires and dramatic love gestures. And although that may play a part in our relationships, it's an insignificant molecule on a tiny piece of ice chunk on that big love iceberg.
Here are some of the things I've learned about love:
1. Love is practical. It's setting alarms so you or your spouse can wake up on time. It's hanging clothes out to dry. It's buying bread and yogurt and a new pot.
2. Love is cooking. The most amazing thing happens when I cook or bake and people enjoy my food. It's love, from my stomach to theirs, and that's the only way I can explain it.
3. Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds. Shakespeare's sonnet captures it succinctly. Life throws hurdles in your way, and if suddenly makes you fall out of love with someone, were you really in love to begin with?
4. Love is family. Being apart from my family has taught me that a family is the very essence of love. Love in a family can go through stages...I think we've all experienced a certain chunk of hatred for siblings who steal our clothes or parents who we think are making our lives difficult. But you never fall out of love with your family. The bond of blood is unlike any other, and it has taken me so long to come to terms with that reality. My heart is owned by them.
5. Love is imperfect.
6. Love is conversations. You know, real conversations that make you feel like your life has meaning and you can accomplish just about anything. Those conversations over tea or french fries that shape the course of your future, but you don't know it yet.
7. Love is a friend. You know, the friend who is the first person you think of when you say "friend." That person who is part of your life, no matter what stage you're in, or how far apart you are from one another.
8. Love is your babies. Pure, unadulterated love. My sister had a baby boy two weeks ago, and although I have not met him yet, I love him like nothing else I love.
9. Love is sacrifice. The moment you decide you can't sacrifice something for someone, is the moment you realize you do not love him or her.
10. Love is your mother. No matter what.
Over the past year, my world view has changed significantly, mostly because I moved half-way across the globe and got married. I've learned more about "love" in the past year than I have in my entire lifetime. Still, I don't presume that I know any more than just the tip of the iceberg. The things I've learned aren't all that commonly expressed in popular culture. Pop songs are all about burning desires and dramatic love gestures. And although that may play a part in our relationships, it's an insignificant molecule on a tiny piece of ice chunk on that big love iceberg.
Here are some of the things I've learned about love:
1. Love is practical. It's setting alarms so you or your spouse can wake up on time. It's hanging clothes out to dry. It's buying bread and yogurt and a new pot.
2. Love is cooking. The most amazing thing happens when I cook or bake and people enjoy my food. It's love, from my stomach to theirs, and that's the only way I can explain it.
3. Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds. Shakespeare's sonnet captures it succinctly. Life throws hurdles in your way, and if suddenly makes you fall out of love with someone, were you really in love to begin with?
4. Love is family. Being apart from my family has taught me that a family is the very essence of love. Love in a family can go through stages...I think we've all experienced a certain chunk of hatred for siblings who steal our clothes or parents who we think are making our lives difficult. But you never fall out of love with your family. The bond of blood is unlike any other, and it has taken me so long to come to terms with that reality. My heart is owned by them.
5. Love is imperfect.
6. Love is conversations. You know, real conversations that make you feel like your life has meaning and you can accomplish just about anything. Those conversations over tea or french fries that shape the course of your future, but you don't know it yet.
7. Love is a friend. You know, the friend who is the first person you think of when you say "friend." That person who is part of your life, no matter what stage you're in, or how far apart you are from one another.
8. Love is your babies. Pure, unadulterated love. My sister had a baby boy two weeks ago, and although I have not met him yet, I love him like nothing else I love.
9. Love is sacrifice. The moment you decide you can't sacrifice something for someone, is the moment you realize you do not love him or her.
10. Love is your mother. No matter what.
Monday, March 12, 2012
Antisocial
My rather antisocial personality has led me to despise the overly social Egyptian customs. Okay, maybe despise it too strong of a word...let's just say "have difficulty with." I'm used to entering a grocery store or clothing store and being able to mull over the things I want without being disturbed, and when I'm ready, I take them to the cashier (or even more detached - the automated check-out). And I like it that way.
I hate shopping in Egypt, especially for clothes. I used to enjoy going into a store and browsing, and now it's extremely difficult to do so since a) I don't have my sisters to shop with, and my husband hates shopping (naturally), and more importantly, b) the sales person is on you like a hawk on a mouse in an open field. Right when you enter, they ask if you are looking for something specific, but that part is okay. The problem is this person begins to follow your every move, eying your every facial expression. And if you so much as dare to pick up a shirt, she'll quickly pipe in: "we have your size in this, and it's so pretty, it's totally in style!"
First of all, you don't know what my size is. Second of all, it's ugly and I was just picking it up to get a closer look at its ugliness. Thirdly, it was never "in style" unless you existed in a parallel universe where gold buttons, awkward frills, and incorrect English were in style. This is why I revel in the few stores here that are antisocial - those that are too big and too busy for people to bother you.
I miss the disconnected indifference of North American culture. People here are just in your face all the time, they want to know what you cooked today, and why you don't call them every single day of your life (they get offended if you skip a day of talking to them), they want to know WHY you do the things you do, or say what you say, or wear what you wear. They need to know. And when you don't cooperate, you're seen as a strange and difficult person.
Mostly, I just want people to leave me alone.
I hate shopping in Egypt, especially for clothes. I used to enjoy going into a store and browsing, and now it's extremely difficult to do so since a) I don't have my sisters to shop with, and my husband hates shopping (naturally), and more importantly, b) the sales person is on you like a hawk on a mouse in an open field. Right when you enter, they ask if you are looking for something specific, but that part is okay. The problem is this person begins to follow your every move, eying your every facial expression. And if you so much as dare to pick up a shirt, she'll quickly pipe in: "we have your size in this, and it's so pretty, it's totally in style!"
First of all, you don't know what my size is. Second of all, it's ugly and I was just picking it up to get a closer look at its ugliness. Thirdly, it was never "in style" unless you existed in a parallel universe where gold buttons, awkward frills, and incorrect English were in style. This is why I revel in the few stores here that are antisocial - those that are too big and too busy for people to bother you.
I miss the disconnected indifference of North American culture. People here are just in your face all the time, they want to know what you cooked today, and why you don't call them every single day of your life (they get offended if you skip a day of talking to them), they want to know WHY you do the things you do, or say what you say, or wear what you wear. They need to know. And when you don't cooperate, you're seen as a strange and difficult person.
Mostly, I just want people to leave me alone.
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