Winter Wan

Every winter, every single goddamned winter, I turn the colour of…. well, the dead comes to mind, but to be a little more flattering, I’d have to say wallpaper paste. Or oh! a sick person… who’s been chained to an gurney in a basement, 3000 meters below ground and whose skin has not been exposed to the light of day in a good three years and who steadfastly avoids vegetables, meat, and really anything and everything of nutritional value. That’s me. Only lucky me, I don’t have to go through the painful process in order to achieve the end result. I come by it au naturale. Plus I’m anemic, no matter how hard I try not to be. I assure you, the end result is not pretty.

Could self-tanning possibly the answer? Tanning salons? The risk of skin-cancer in exchange for one winter ONE WINTER during which I don’t have to assure everyone who sees me that no, I’m not sick nor have I been diagnosed with a terminal illness, nor am I avoiding food in hopes of maintaining my weight, NOR do I not exercise?

I don’t know. But I take comfort in the fact that since there’s a cartoon about it, I’m obviously not alone.

On Coffee Shops and Muslim Creeps

Over the winter break I’ve been subbing at my dad’s coffee place in the downtown. The regular girl is off on vacation for Christmas and New Year’s and I decided what the heck? With six years of convenience store experience under my belt, I’m more than qualified. And here’s the funny thing – I actually like it! I especially enjoy the regulars – the interaction, the quick humour, the light-hearted banter. And since I’m a happy person at heart and nothing pisses me off more than a surly sales rep, I’ve always got a smile ready. And the unlimited coffee refills kinda help, to be honest =P

But sometimes, it’s not all smiles and fun. Sometimes you get the creeps. Especially since this particular coffee shop is located in the downtown, and you can’t quite control who has access to the building it’s situated in, you kind of have to put up them.

Example one: The man who always fill his large cup half way, then insists I charge him for a small. Always. Regardless of whether or not the pot is brimming with fresh coffee, there’s never quite enough to fill his large.

Example two: The man who spent an hour and 34 minutes assuring me that while Canada may be cold, at least I feel safe. Unlike the Middle East, where gun-fights break out randomly, and people with bombs strapped to their chest are running around willy-nilly. Yes, indeed. The cold is a small price to pay for safety. When I informed him that in I-raq, a war has been waging for the past nine years he looked at me blankly and said “Oh yeah! 1960s wasn’t it? Yes, it might be warm there, but it’s dangerous” *repeat stories of gun fights, bombs, and Al-Qaeda and a foray into Turkish coffee – which I’m told is worth giving up for safety*

Then there are those that occur outside the coffee shop, as I walk towards my car which is parked seven blocks down (free parking, so sue me).

En route to my car the other day, I went into the Calgary Public Library to get the address of my friend’s house. On my way in, this man stops in front of me to beat the snow off his shoes before entering, effectively blocking my way. I waited, because I had no other choice, and when he noticed me behind him he smiled and apologized. I told him not to worry and brushed by him to get into the library. I head towards the empty computer and he follows me, standing behind me. I figure, whatever, all the computers are full and he’s probably just waiting for me to finish. I tune him out, finish my business, and leave.

A block later, I notice that he’s right beside me, grinning at me while he walks along. Okaaayyy. I look away kind of hoping that maybe if I don’t show recognition he’ll just walk on by. Well, if wishes were horses, beggars would ride. He comments on the weather, I reply. To sum the next five blocks up as painlessly as possible, he follows me making inane conversation revolving around my Islam, and how he’s Muslim, and how I should consider meeting up with him at the mosque. At the edge of downtown I stop and ask were he’s going. He thought we’d take the LRT together. Seeing an out I quickly inform him that, unfortunately *cough cough*, I’m actually headed towards my car. Turns out that’s fine, he’ll walk me to my car – still two blocks away – and then head back towards the station which we’d passed two blocks ago. I assure him that is not necessary, but he insists and we walk on.

A block of his chattering and my mumbling later he stops and I brace myself for the expected. Can I have your number? No. Email? No. Dad’s number? No. Will you meet me at the Mosque? Uh.. no. Will you take my email/number? Sorry, no. Am I sure? Yes. Positive? Very.

He heaves a heavy sigh, informs me what hours he frequents the NW mosque and stands watching while I half-run the rest of the block to my car. I get in, lock the doors and sit there shivering in the darkness of my car, too damn creeped out to get out and brush the snow off the windows. Through the rearview I can see him standing there, staring. 15 minutes later and I guess he’s convinced I’m not about to change my mind. He heads back and I start my car, driving over a curb in my haste to get the heck out of there.

I get to my friends house and share the story. I’m not surprised to learn every girl there has had multiple similar experiences – and all by Muslims. Nonmuslims will ask for your number, or ask you out for drinks and if you choose to decline, they’ll graciously back out. Muslims, on the other hand, use the religion you have in common as a wedge, convinced that through that mutual ground, there lies the path towards a wonderful, lasting relationship.

Creeps.

*shudder*

Mordecai Briemberg and Freedom of Speech

Today, I had the privilege of attending a lecture featuring Mordecai Briemberg, a professor and a peace activist, at the University of Calgary. The event was hosted by the university’s SPHR club – Solidarity for Palestinian Human Rights. People like Briemberg give me hope. They give me vision, and they give me strength. Through these people, I can feel the pulse of the future beating, and suddenly I’m not alone, the end isn’t quite as far off, and a solution is not only feasible – it’s imminent.

Now I’ve been to so many of these, read so many books and articles, watched so many documentaries and news reports I’m rarely, if ever, shocked by what I see. In fact, it’s usually a gruesome reminder of losses. But today, unlike any other day, I learnt of Canada’s involvement. Its involvement in attempting to – and often succeeding in – restricting the rights to freedom of speech, employing censorship, as well as a general lack of ‘democratic’ values.

I mean, I’m not blinded to the fact that censorship *does* in fact occur. But I was never fully aware of the extent of it. Example: The days following the earthquake in Indonesia, front pages: Globe and Mail, Sun, Herald. Even the Metro Newspaper was running front page coverage. And then we have the National Post. Front page? An interview with the kindly, old, frail, oppressed, and misunderstood Kurt Westergaard. Doesn’t your heart break for the man? Having to endure 10 houses and countless cars to escape the wrath of those goddammed fundamentalists?

Earthquake what? Over hundred dead who?

Sickening.

So thanks Briemberg. I pray we all have your courage and vision to continue to fight the good fight.

What’s your flavor?

You’re all probably familiar with the faith-o-meter. That elusive yet very real measurement of just how well our faith is doing. And you notice its fluctuations based on how that faith translates over into your life. Are you going to the mosque more often? Murmuring an ‘alhamdulillah’ after you sneeze? Thanking God more often than usual?

Well for me it’s always been my eyebrows. They too fluctuate according to my deen level. Right now, I’m at an all time high. I’ve decided that my tomorrow begins today, blah blah blah, etc etc, so I put an end to it. The plucking that is. And I’m now sporting two, untouched fringes above my eyes. They’re not that bad. Just very untouched. Huh.

Right, so a friend was over, one that I haven’t seen in about two years, and she remarks upon them.

F: You looked so much hotter before. What in Syria it’s halaal and in Canada it’s haram? What an embarrassment! You’re going to university.
S&S: Embarrassment how?
F:  You look like a monkey.
S&S: Thanks, I love you too oh buddy mine! But seriously, embarrassing how?
F: I mean, uni’s full of hot, eligible guys.. no one’s going  to look at you twice like that..
S&S: *with the whole excuse me attitude* Habeebi, those guys can kiss this goodbye. I’m not into that. It’s all about the brothers who wouldn’t like it any other way… the one’s with their beards down to their navel, you feel me??
F: EWWWWW!!!!! That’s so gross!

LOOOOL! Thing is, she was sooo serious. Haram. This was while we were putting the food down for iftar. I think she lost her appetite.

But seriously…

Do you know what I’m saying?!

MSA Hike ‘09

"No more up!" some guy who was hiking.... as in peak of the mountain. I'm right on the left of the girl in pink. Amazing view, eh?

I went hiking with the MSA on Saturday. It was straight up exhilarating!!!

The way up was unbelievably easy.. when compared to the way down. Because, well I had to go. As in go go. And there were about 35 guys with us, some behind us and some in front, as well as random people jogging, cycling, or hiking. And a bunch of girls who I wouldn’t have put it past to snap off a pic with me heeding the call of nature. So what’s a person to do?

I ran down the mountain. All that jogging came in handy because it was around 2 hours straight speed walking and full out running (depending on the terrain).

Then relief alhamdulillah, and forty minutes spent soaking my poor, aching feet in the lake till the others caught up.

Isn’t it beautiful though?

And then we spent the bus ride back either passed out from exhaustion or, in my case, high off adrenaline. So we played Chinese telephone, and those hand games? Remember them? Stella ella ola, concentration, rocking robins, miss molly, Charlie Brown? Oh, and telling dirty jokes, hahahhaha.

Loooooveed it! I can’t wait to go again <33

Oh and if you’re wondering were this is, it’s near Kananaskis in Alberta. We hiked the jewel pass, which is near Barrier Lake.

=D

On Chinese Stereotypes

Picture this: an Arab working for a Chinese roofing company. What I mean by Chinese roofing company though isn’t that the roofs are redone in an Oriental manner but rather the owners of the company are Chinese. Who speak about ten words of English between the three of them.

Now as a first generation adult, my brother’s cool with that. He likes these guys and they like him – they’re teaching him Chinese and he’s teaching them English. They even gave him Chinese tea – yuummm!! – and buy him Chinese food for lunch every day.

Enter an uncle who hears William’s been working for a Chinese guy. Reaction?

“I never liked the Chinese! Did you watch all those movies? They’re all two-faced! They act good but what goes on in their lives is freaky!”

*laughing because I thought he was kidding* “Why do you say that?”

*he’s dead serious* “Well, you saw their movies. Drugs, and bad sex, and gangs. Not good people.”

“You do realize those movies were directed by none other than hollywood – America? And don’t necessarily represent real Chinese people?”

“Enough already! I know them. They’re all very two faced!”

*I’m getting mad now* “But uncle, you have a daughter and a wife! You have a beard! How do you like it when other people stick us under a certain stigma or stereotype?? I want people to respect me as an individual, not as some secretive Taliban recruit with a bomb under my hijab!”

“Nonsense! We’re not like that! The media is garbage! But they are. Their movies say so. Khalas. Enough. Uncle knows best.”

Oh my God in Heaven you did not just say that! This guy is an ARAB! His daughter and wife wear the SCARF! They’ve been suffering under all those stereotypes and misconceptions for so long, and I know them personally. I know myself and the struggles I’ve faced because people are narrow-minded, biased, media-garbage guzzlers who routinely fail to exercise the grey matter between their ears!! And now this Arab who is a victim of stereotypes is actually holding prejudices against Chinese people…. because of the media!!!???

*head-desk*

Cruel irony? Or just deserts?

Purification

**Below is yet another of my gratitude posts. You have been duly warned**

Asalaamualykum! (May peace be on you, you, annndd you!!)

Honestly, it’s straight amazing. I can’t even say that phrase anymore without thinking of the implications behind it. It literally translates “may peace be with you.” So much more heartfelt and meaningful than hi, eh?

Right, so on to the gratitude.

1. alhamdulillah thuma alhamdulillah for everything Allah has blessed me with. After three long years of struggle, and feeling like everything is constantly up in the air all I can say is thank you Good Lord for everything! All the pieces are falling into place, and all my hopes are coming true. I mean my job, my uni, my volunteering, and more are all coming true!
2. Thank you God for my community. I know this is unbearably corny, but be patient with me. I feel… supported. I’ve always been the odd one out, both in Canada before I left and then again in Syria. I never felt like I was with people who wanted what I wanted, who had the same vision or goal. And now, alhamdulillah, I found it =)
3. Alhamdulillah for my strength. I’ve taken three major steps in my life and I feel like each is a leap and a bound on the path I’m yearning to walk. One of these was the whole “To Pluck or not to Pluck” issue, and alhamdulilah we’re back at Not Pluck; this time for good inshAllah. Because this time, when I had my sit down with myself it was crystal clear that I was doing this for the right reasons, which is yet another thing to thank God for.
4. The course I’ve recently attended. A Heart Serene offered by Al Maghrib. So it’s a four-day course complete with an exam, and alhamdulillah it tied in everything above and then some. I have never, EVER laughed so freely, cried with such elation, or hugged so many people in my life. It was brilliant. No wait. That’s inadequate. It was astounding. Reviving. Enlightening. I can’t wait till the next course =D
5. My parents. I love you both more than you can ever imagine. Thank you for loving me unconditionally, spoiling me rotten (solo chicka with four brothers, watchu expect?), being whatever I need, when I need it, and caring enough to let me know when I’m wrong.
6. My blackberry! I don’t know where I’d be without you.

There’s a lot more – everything basically – but today has been one of the longest days of my life. I want sleep and I want it now!

ps: I have a goal: be a better blogger! What on earth happened to a post a day?! Yeesh!

Goodnight world!

During my jog today 02

I haven’t gone for about two weeks what with late nights studying, volunteering, and not being able to get up in the mornings, so today I said enough was enough. We didn’t wake up in the morning, so we went at around Maghrib time, which is about 9:20. I got my sweats on, my drink on (water bottle lol), filled up gas, picked up my jogging buddy and we were off down 69th like usual.

In the morning it’s quaint. Very little traffic, and all the other pedestrians are joggers who make a point to look you in the eye and smile a ‘hello.’ It’s a greeting, encouragement, and support all rolled into a flash of teeth. The world is waking and you’re witnessing it.

At night it’s a whole other world. That time of day is my favorite. A lot of people say sunrises are beautiful, alluding to fresh beginnings. But I’ve always been a sunset girl. Dusk is when I come to life, when the air fills with anticipation, the skies darken, the world comes to life in a dizzying array of colours. It’s fleeting though, close you’re eyes and open them and in that swift second the world has changed.

So there we were, collapsed on the curb  near my car in a parking lot, drinking water like it was going out of style, and discussing stand up comedians, of all things. When this car drives by twice, the first time zooming by, then slower for a closer look, with this white kid gaping at us. It parks a distance away, does  a U turn and comes in for one more go, this time outside the parking lot, on 69th. He leans out, screams a very eloquent “FUCK YOU,” and revs off.

By this time it’s full dark, and my friend was getting kind of antsy. It’s Sunday night and Calgary’s dead, or at least this area is. But why the hell should I?? Jugding by the look I got of the kid, he’s younger than I am! I was, quite literally,  here first and I’m not moving till I’m damn well good and ready to move!

After the spurt of anger, it was emptiness. These encounters, while rare, always leave me drained of hope. And soooo confused! Ugh.  I will never, ever understand racism or prejudice.

Alhamdulillah for the life I lead, which has taught me respect and tolerance above all else.

Already??

But the universe is just an empty space
And all the stars can disappear without a trace
I’m so glad that this has taken so long
‘Cause it’s the journey that made me so strong

So a  long  while back, whilst I was still lounging away on the other side of the ocean, I said I’d miss Syria. And now I do. Miss Syria that is. Seriously… it’s been about 6 weeks and I expected it to take a little longer before I missed it, but in reality, about 3 weeks in I started feeling them. Those twinges. Worrying and easy to ignore at first, getting progressively more insistent. At first, I ignored them in hopes that they would go away, and let me live contentedly, but no such luck. They’re here. To stay.

So here’s my list:

1. The athan. But oddly enough, only one. The maghrib. For seven weeks now at maghrib time I’ve been glancing at the sky, watching it grow progressively darker and wondering why it hadn’t athanit yet.
2.  The noise. It used to drive me crazy in our apartment in Dumar, but living in the burbs, it’s too quiet at times. Other than the rattling dump truck, and car doors slamming every once in a while it’s silent. Pressingly oppressive silence.
3. Taxis!! The bumpy, hang-on-for-dear-life rides, filled with stories you’re only half-paying attention to because like I said, you’re trying not to lose your lunch.
4. The excitement! The utter unpredictability of Syria.  You go out to buy a some bread, and you get to partake in a mini-adventure!
5. Being able to go to Old Damascus any time I wanted.
6. How distances feel so short there!! Here it’s like traversing the globe when you want to make it from one area to the next. Crazy.
7. The city center. The d-town. The hustle and bustle, loool. The crush of bodies, the peddlers hawking goods, all the never-ending horns. The smell of freshly baked bread, gas emissions, sweat, sewage, cigarette smoke, and a billion other things assaulting your senses. Freaky? Yes. But also true.
8. Finding those hole in the wall places and falling in love.
9.  The Umayyed mosque and it’s cool courtyards.
10. Arabic coffee!
11.  That corn dish you can buy in the streets. Corn and cheese and a ton of spices.
12.  The lessons I used to attend. There’s no way I can replace that woman in my life.
13. Just being there =(
14. A few, select friends and cousins. I <3 you guys crazzy.
15. Complaining about Syria. Now that I don’t live there anymore, I feel like I’ve been stripped of my complaining privileges…

But, funny thing is, for every thing I listed, I thought of something I liked here, in Canada. So I’m good, lol. Just thought I’d get that outta my system!

My Private Parts

Although I didn’t take this photo, I did see it on the way to Vancouver and laughed my ass off. Seriously, I almost drove right off the road. HilARIOUS!!

If you’re not getting it, that’s okay. Cause this is for all y’all who insisted on calling me Wally – although you spelt it Waleee. Anyway: Enjoy!!