Have you ever reached the stage of Emotional Paralysis?
Symptoms: Indifference, lack of interest in anything, no thrill for new ideas, not sharing your ideas with others...etc
Emotional Paralysis, i believe, comes from too much subjectivity, and complete lack of bias.
When you are always trying to put yourself in the other party's shoes. When you are always trying to understand the reasons behind someone's thoughts and ideoligies. When you are always giving excuses for others ways of analysis. You are being subjective, you think, but in reality, you are leading your soul to Emotional Paralysis.
A lot of us have been suffering from Emotional Paralysis lately. At least I know I am. I have not been expressing my opinions clearly. There is a reason for that, ofcourse. The reason is that our society still has not reached the maturity stage of having healthy arguments. Our society does not value the outcomes of healthy debates.
An Algerian friend once told me: " If a person was explaining an idea to me, and I totally agree with that idea, I will pretend that I do not agree, just to create a debate, and enjoy the thrill of it."
You still find a lot people who get really offended by your opinions just because they are different. They might even withdraw from you just because your "bizarre" ideas might affect them. This negative attitude, ofcourse, kills the thrill of a healthy debate.
In your next debate, not wanting to offend others, you try to be as subjective as possible. By time, you end up not having opinions of your own. You develop a dual vision of the two sides of each argument, and you even become able of arguing to the favor of both sides! You might think that this is smart. But it's not. Because you will end up not knowing what your real opinion is, your ideas and thoughts become numb, i.e: Emotional Paralysis.
In order to overcome Emotional Paralysis, you have to clearly discuss your views, and be proud of them. Listen attentively to the other side, discuss, have a healthy debate, agree on some issues, disagree on others. And if the other side feels offended or even schocked of your ideas, and tries to make you feel guilty about them, then the other side is probably suffering from a worse disease, that I might discuss in another post.
As part of the treatment, I want to ask each one of you to write in the comments an opinion that you always wanted to share, but continously got shut off.
Saturday, May 5, 2007
Tuesday, May 1, 2007
Sunday, April 29, 2007
I'm A Boxing Bag.
I'm a boxing bag.
Yes, the bag boxers use to practise on. Other people - non boxers - use it to get rid of their rage.
Well, I don't know what's really wrong with me. I believe i am peaceful. I choose to be peaceful actually. Apparently that is very wrong. Being a democrat is also wrong.
They will always find a way to make your silence appear as "hidden thoughts". Or your democracy as "weakness to face facts".
So what if i hate to take sides? Even if i feel down deep that one of the sides is wrong. I choose to think that maybe there's a fact i failed to consider, and therefore, i again, refuse to take sides.
Paulo Coelho once said: " Everyone seems to have a clear idea of how other people should lead their lives, but none about his or her own."
This sentence is a project that i have been trying to apply for a while. But Paulo, this sentense is very tricky. It makes you imagine that if you actually start leading your own life, without interference with others' lives, others will start doing the same. Paulo, you must have been thinking about Utopia.
Apparently speaking out and saying what you feel and what irritates you creates tremendous problems. Humans never seem to forget. If you choose silence, and take the glory of sharing your own thoughts with yourself only, this will create even deeper problems. Apathetic, some people might even call you. If you choose to listen, and only listen, then you are not helping and not making progress. If you choose to contribute with your well ponderred opinion, then this is the real catastrophe. Because you are going to be responsible for this opinion. You will be asked about it, and required to elaborate until you are proven wrong.
My favorite part in most movies, is when the characters suddenly explode and say all what had to be said since the movie started. Wether it was improsined screams, burning love declerations, or tears that have been waiting forever to be shed. This usually hapens in the climax. And after it, all knots are untied.
It's funny i never reached a climax in my life. I always meet new people, new stiuations, new incidents, and there's always a climax that i perfectly draw and practise over and over in my mind. But, I never reach it. Climaxes in real life only tie the knots harder. Climaxes, also, are part of Paulo's Utopia.
So what if I'm a boxing bag? I think it's better to be the boxing bag than being the boxer.
I want to reach my climax now. It is going to be silence. Ultimate silence. And if my climax is going to tie more knots, you are most welcome to beat the boxing bag.
Yes, the bag boxers use to practise on. Other people - non boxers - use it to get rid of their rage.
Well, I don't know what's really wrong with me. I believe i am peaceful. I choose to be peaceful actually. Apparently that is very wrong. Being a democrat is also wrong.
They will always find a way to make your silence appear as "hidden thoughts". Or your democracy as "weakness to face facts".
So what if i hate to take sides? Even if i feel down deep that one of the sides is wrong. I choose to think that maybe there's a fact i failed to consider, and therefore, i again, refuse to take sides.
Paulo Coelho once said: " Everyone seems to have a clear idea of how other people should lead their lives, but none about his or her own."
This sentence is a project that i have been trying to apply for a while. But Paulo, this sentense is very tricky. It makes you imagine that if you actually start leading your own life, without interference with others' lives, others will start doing the same. Paulo, you must have been thinking about Utopia.
Apparently speaking out and saying what you feel and what irritates you creates tremendous problems. Humans never seem to forget. If you choose silence, and take the glory of sharing your own thoughts with yourself only, this will create even deeper problems. Apathetic, some people might even call you. If you choose to listen, and only listen, then you are not helping and not making progress. If you choose to contribute with your well ponderred opinion, then this is the real catastrophe. Because you are going to be responsible for this opinion. You will be asked about it, and required to elaborate until you are proven wrong.
My favorite part in most movies, is when the characters suddenly explode and say all what had to be said since the movie started. Wether it was improsined screams, burning love declerations, or tears that have been waiting forever to be shed. This usually hapens in the climax. And after it, all knots are untied.
It's funny i never reached a climax in my life. I always meet new people, new stiuations, new incidents, and there's always a climax that i perfectly draw and practise over and over in my mind. But, I never reach it. Climaxes in real life only tie the knots harder. Climaxes, also, are part of Paulo's Utopia.
So what if I'm a boxing bag? I think it's better to be the boxing bag than being the boxer.
I want to reach my climax now. It is going to be silence. Ultimate silence. And if my climax is going to tie more knots, you are most welcome to beat the boxing bag.
Saturday, March 31, 2007
When You Live Alone
When You Live Alone:
1) Burger King becomes your best friend. You are friends with all the staff.
2) You have numbers of all resturaunts with home delivery.
2) You actually crave for healthy food.
3) Basically, food becomes your only obsession.
4) You develop the habit of talking, negotiationg, fighting, and joking with yourself.
5) You become addicted to blogs, messengers, emails, facebook, and the like.
6) You watch too much T.V and actually become interested in knowing what is happening with Anna Nicole Smith and her poor child.
7) You sleep over and miss your lectures because simply there's no one to wake you up again.
8) You study two days before the exam because there's no one to nag you and give you a very detailed description of your miserable future if you don't study.
9) You learn how to install the gas jar. And it makes you feel proud.
10) Your friends think you are cool and dream of being in your situation.
11) You don't understand why they think you are cool and it makes you cooler.
12) Mess all around the room doesn't bother you.
13) You decide it's cool to stay messy just not to feel guilty.
14) You feel so guilty and become extremely organized for 2 months maximum.
15) Your mom cries and calls every single person you know to make sure you are still alive if you don't answer two SMSs.
16) Your house becomes your friend's hangout place.
17) Your body becomes the jerms' hangout place, and you get sick every 34 days and take an injection because of bad nutrition and too much Burger King.
18) You swear not to eat at Burger King anymore...... and switch to McDonald's.
19) You miss your family so much until you see them, then you want to go back.
20) Your parents become worried because of your "independency".
21) You buy disposable plastic dishes and glasses to eat in and throw once you finish.
22) You wonder why doesn't the laundry look clean and later on you discover that you actually forgot to put soap.
23) You sing outloud in the morning, and become fond of your voice by time.
24) Before you sleep you forget to: turn off the heater, plug off the iron, lock the door, and the only thing that keeps you alive is pure luck and your mom's prayers.
25) Your friends want to get argeeleh to your place and think you are wierd when you say NO!
1) Burger King becomes your best friend. You are friends with all the staff.
2) You have numbers of all resturaunts with home delivery.
2) You actually crave for healthy food.
3) Basically, food becomes your only obsession.
4) You develop the habit of talking, negotiationg, fighting, and joking with yourself.
5) You become addicted to blogs, messengers, emails, facebook, and the like.
6) You watch too much T.V and actually become interested in knowing what is happening with Anna Nicole Smith and her poor child.
7) You sleep over and miss your lectures because simply there's no one to wake you up again.
8) You study two days before the exam because there's no one to nag you and give you a very detailed description of your miserable future if you don't study.
9) You learn how to install the gas jar. And it makes you feel proud.
10) Your friends think you are cool and dream of being in your situation.
11) You don't understand why they think you are cool and it makes you cooler.
12) Mess all around the room doesn't bother you.
13) You decide it's cool to stay messy just not to feel guilty.
14) You feel so guilty and become extremely organized for 2 months maximum.
15) Your mom cries and calls every single person you know to make sure you are still alive if you don't answer two SMSs.
16) Your house becomes your friend's hangout place.
17) Your body becomes the jerms' hangout place, and you get sick every 34 days and take an injection because of bad nutrition and too much Burger King.
18) You swear not to eat at Burger King anymore...... and switch to McDonald's.
19) You miss your family so much until you see them, then you want to go back.
20) Your parents become worried because of your "independency".
21) You buy disposable plastic dishes and glasses to eat in and throw once you finish.
22) You wonder why doesn't the laundry look clean and later on you discover that you actually forgot to put soap.
23) You sing outloud in the morning, and become fond of your voice by time.
24) Before you sleep you forget to: turn off the heater, plug off the iron, lock the door, and the only thing that keeps you alive is pure luck and your mom's prayers.
25) Your friends want to get argeeleh to your place and think you are wierd when you say NO!
Saturday, March 24, 2007
Who Is a Leader
"The news of the Prophet Mohammed's death came as a stunning shock to everyone. How could it be? He had been ill for some days.... but death??
Things were in this state when Abu Bakr entered the mosque. "O' people! If anyone among you worshipped Mohammed, let him know that Mohammed is dead. But he who worshipped Allah, let him know that Allah lives and will never die. Let all of us recall the words of the Qur'an. It says, (Mohammed is only a messenger of Allah. There have been messengers before him. What then, will you turn back from Islam, if he dies or is killed?)" (*)
It is in the most devastating and confusing times that true leaders rise. Those who tend to collect their shattered souls and gather their frustrated emotions, put them aside, and rise again, blowing life back into those who are still shattered, and making them rise up too. It is a leader who draws a vision that is clear to everyone, plans to achieve it, organizes the steps to be taken, and leads the group into victory.
A leader is always patient, optimistic, and innovative. He is eager to listen to his companions, discuss, and learn from them. A leader is someone you can trust to get you out of the tunnel towards the light. H delegates to his companions, believes in them, and makes them believe in themselves. He's always with them and never on top of them. He's strict and firm in difficult times, yet considerate and compassionat in peaceful times.
A leader builds up a team, believes in teamwork, answers questions, asks his team for help, and makes everyone feel important and effective. He gives unforgettable speeches with words that directly transform into heat that extends into the brains, muscles, and hearts.
A leader is a normal individual who skees for the abnoraml, and gives his maximum efforts. He makes changes and fulfills dreams. Pats shoulders, and whispers "you can do it" into sinking souls.
A leader makes it happen
(*)www.anwary-islam.com
Things were in this state when Abu Bakr entered the mosque. "O' people! If anyone among you worshipped Mohammed, let him know that Mohammed is dead. But he who worshipped Allah, let him know that Allah lives and will never die. Let all of us recall the words of the Qur'an. It says, (Mohammed is only a messenger of Allah. There have been messengers before him. What then, will you turn back from Islam, if he dies or is killed?)" (*)
It is in the most devastating and confusing times that true leaders rise. Those who tend to collect their shattered souls and gather their frustrated emotions, put them aside, and rise again, blowing life back into those who are still shattered, and making them rise up too. It is a leader who draws a vision that is clear to everyone, plans to achieve it, organizes the steps to be taken, and leads the group into victory.
A leader is always patient, optimistic, and innovative. He is eager to listen to his companions, discuss, and learn from them. A leader is someone you can trust to get you out of the tunnel towards the light. H delegates to his companions, believes in them, and makes them believe in themselves. He's always with them and never on top of them. He's strict and firm in difficult times, yet considerate and compassionat in peaceful times.
A leader builds up a team, believes in teamwork, answers questions, asks his team for help, and makes everyone feel important and effective. He gives unforgettable speeches with words that directly transform into heat that extends into the brains, muscles, and hearts.
A leader is a normal individual who skees for the abnoraml, and gives his maximum efforts. He makes changes and fulfills dreams. Pats shoulders, and whispers "you can do it" into sinking souls.
A leader makes it happen
(*)www.anwary-islam.com
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Ways to Maintain a Healthy Level of Insanity
Everytime i get this email it makes me laugh more. Hope you enjoy it.
Disclaimer: I did not write this, it's an email that has been fwded to me. but let's see if we can come up with some more of our creative creations.
1. At Lunch Time, Sit In Your Parked Car With Sunglasses on, and point a Hair Dryer At Passing Cars. See If They Slow Down.
2. Page Yourself Over The Intercom. Don't Disguise Your Voice.
3. Every Time Someone Asks You To Do Something, Ask If They Want Fries with that.
4. Put Your Garbage Can On Your Desk And Label It "In."
5. Put Decaf In The Coffee Maker For 3 Weeks. Once Everyone has Gotten Over Their Caffeine Addictions, Switch to Espresso.
6. In The Memo Field Of All Your Checks, Write "For Smuggling Diamonds"
7. Finish All Your sentences with "In Accordance With The Prophecy."
8. Don't use any punctuation
9. As Often As Possible, Skip Rather Than Walk.
10. Order a Diet Water whenever you go out to eat, with a serious face.
11. Specify That Your Drive-through Order Is "To Go."
12. Sing Along At The Opera.
13. Go To A Poetry Recital And Ask Why The Poems Don't Rhyme
14. Put Mosquito Netting Around Your Work Area And Play tropical Sounds All Day.
15. Five Days In Advance, Tell Your Friends You Can't Attend Their Party Because You're Not In The Mood.
16.When The Money Comes Out The ATM, Scream "I Won!, I Won!"
17. When Leaving The Zoo, Start Running Towards The Parking lot, Yelling "Run For Your Lives, They're Loose!!"
18. Tell Your Children Over Dinner. "Due To The Economy, We Are Going To Have To Let One Of You Go."
Disclaimer: I did not write this, it's an email that has been fwded to me. but let's see if we can come up with some more of our creative creations.
1. At Lunch Time, Sit In Your Parked Car With Sunglasses on, and point a Hair Dryer At Passing Cars. See If They Slow Down.
2. Page Yourself Over The Intercom. Don't Disguise Your Voice.
3. Every Time Someone Asks You To Do Something, Ask If They Want Fries with that.
4. Put Your Garbage Can On Your Desk And Label It "In."
5. Put Decaf In The Coffee Maker For 3 Weeks. Once Everyone has Gotten Over Their Caffeine Addictions, Switch to Espresso.
6. In The Memo Field Of All Your Checks, Write "For Smuggling Diamonds"
7. Finish All Your sentences with "In Accordance With The Prophecy."
8. Don't use any punctuation
9. As Often As Possible, Skip Rather Than Walk.
10. Order a Diet Water whenever you go out to eat, with a serious face.
11. Specify That Your Drive-through Order Is "To Go."
12. Sing Along At The Opera.
13. Go To A Poetry Recital And Ask Why The Poems Don't Rhyme
14. Put Mosquito Netting Around Your Work Area And Play tropical Sounds All Day.
15. Five Days In Advance, Tell Your Friends You Can't Attend Their Party Because You're Not In The Mood.
16.When The Money Comes Out The ATM, Scream "I Won!, I Won!"
17. When Leaving The Zoo, Start Running Towards The Parking lot, Yelling "Run For Your Lives, They're Loose!!"
18. Tell Your Children Over Dinner. "Due To The Economy, We Are Going To Have To Let One Of You Go."
Friday, March 16, 2007
Insight
They say one person can change you forever, even if they never intend to. And that I am sure of, because Zeid never intended to.
The first time I met Zeid I was so fake. I kept praying he won't feel my forced casual attitude, or my trembling knees.
"Hi Zeid.."
"Oh Hi Dima"
"I'm here to-"
"Oh I know,I've been told, please have a seat"
"Thanks... so.. umm do we start from the beginning...?"
"Yes, please."
I held the thick black book in my hands. I read the title engraved in golden letters out loud. Flipped the cover, and through the first introductory pages, and started reading for fifty-two minutes.
The first day was over, and it was worse than I expected. Why do I always assume I have strength that I don't? Why do I always put myself in situations where I know for sure I will collapse?
The next day I went back, at the same time. I found Zeid sitting patiently, like he always did, in his black jacket, his hands on his lap, his right hand slightly curled over his left. He stared blankly at the floor.
"Good morning Zeid"
"Hey, Dima... I got you the tape recorder and some tapes, can you start recording the first chapter today please?"
"Yes, sure."
Zeid opened his old weary backpack and took out a dark green walkman from it. he held it carefully in his hands, by turn, he started feeling for each button and explaining slowly: " This button is rewind..forward...stop.. pause.. play... and the red one is record"
I thought to myslef... What does red mean to him? Is it any different than yellow, green, purple... Isn't it all just black?
He finished by showing me the eject button and how it opens the tape case. I smiled as I felt him proud to know all those buttons and their functions.
"Did you memorize them or do you want me to repeat them again?"
I smiled again saying: "No Zeid, I think I'll manage" What was silly to me, was considered an accomplishment to him.
"Please use it gently Dima, It's the only recorder I have."
"I will"
Everyday I would go read to Zeid his material. He would listen with the anticipation of all first-year students. And when I go back home, I would start reading and recording my voice on the tapes he gave me, so that Zeid can study by listening to those tapes.
"Zeid, why did you choose to study Islamic Studies?"
"Well, I can't study engineering for sure!" He chuckled. "I had limited choices, and I chose Islamic Studies because it makes me a better person."
I thought the deppression I sank into would fade into the daily routine of having to face Zeid. Only this depression grew deeper. Whatever I did, I felt guilty. Once, I walked him to class, he tripped over a step. I felt guilty, I should've warned him. Another time, he was about to trip when I told him to watch out for the step. I also felt guilty, I probably made him feel weak and helpless. I even felt guilty for just being able to see.
After two weeks Zeid had to take the English level exam. If he fails he will have to take three English courses. If he passes he will take only two. If he passes with a high average, he will have to take only one.
I had to go with him to read him the questions, and click on the answers he chooses.
Zeid was very calm that day. He told me that he was good in English and he is hoping to pass and take only two courses.
The exam started and I read the questions, each twice. Zeid took a lot of time to answer, and ended up giving me wrong answers for most questions. I would click on the wrong answer he chose and move to the next question. I started feeling that Zeid won't pass. There were a lot of questions left and not much time. I started reading three multiple choices instead of five. And yet he would give wrong answers. I started giving only two choices and he got some right. We finished all questions and had four more minutes to review. I looked at Zeid knowing he won't pass. I looked at him in his same black jacket, same white top, and same black shoes. I felt guilty that he will have to pay for three courses instead of two, knowing that to him it makes a big difference.
I remembered when Zeid told me that he is out of empty tapes. And that I should wait until he goes down town to get new tapes. I told him there's a store near university that sells tapes. He grimmaced saying they're too expensive, 20 piastres each.
I went back to the first questions Zeid answered wrong, put the right answers instead, and told him we're done. We waited for the result. He passed. I told him, and he laughed out loud disturbing other students who stared at Zeid and suddenly looked away when they realized he couldn't see.
When we got out he called almost everyone he knows to proudly tell them he passed. He held his cell phone, clicked 6 times on the middle button and counted outloud: "1,2,3,4,5,6. Does the name say Mohammed?" I looked at the cell phone "Yes it does." He pressed call and yelled "I told you I will pass I told you! hahay!". Zeid was so happy like a kid who got a new bike. Only I was almost sure he never got a bike. I even didn't help but to laugh at how he teased his friends and told them "And you said I won't pass!! Well you all owe me one JD!!!"
At this moment also, I felt guilty. I wanted him to know that I answered at least ten questions for him which he got wrong. But I knew I would kill his pride, the most special thing about Zeid. I also knew I would feel worse if I didn't tell him. " You know Zeid I helped you a lot, you really need to study for this course, you don't want to fail it."
"I know Dima, I know" was all he said.
We later became good friends. I would go to the center everyday, read to him and give him pop quizes which he hated the most. And I would get angry at him for not studying. I looked at him as a younger brother and somehow felt very responsible for him. He even taught me how to read and write alphabets and numbers using Prill's method. He explained to me the different tools he uses in writing. He always talked about this new special typewriter he heard about, which some of his friends at the center bought.
"It is very efficient, if I use it, it will take half the time to do my homework!"
"So why don't you buy it?"
"Well, it is very expensive, around 200 JD"
Again, I felt guilty.
In Eid I told a group of my friends that we should all gather money and get it to Zeid as a Eid gift. But I changed my mind at the last minute, knowing that Zeid's pride will refuse it and I will feel guilty for making him feel needy.
The semester was over. At the beginning of the second semester I called Zeid to arrange a time for reading. He told me that this semester he only wants me to record tapes, and a new volunteer, a guy, will read to him in the center. When I aksed why, embarrassed,He told me that he is an Islamic Studies student and it is better if a guy reads to him. This semester I haven't heard of him, neither tried calling him. Not wanting to embarrass him.
Zeid changed me a lot. He did really - like they say- see with his heart. He was always proud of his accomplishments. He never said 'I can't'. He was very independent. At the end of the first semester he knew the university by heart and never tripped on steps anymore. He never complained. Even when I overslept and missed the reading sessions. Even when I was late in recording him the tapes and gave the lamest excuses. He never complained. He was good at everything. But most of all, he was best at listening. His special disability of not seeing gave him the rare ability of true listening, analyzing personalities depending on their voices, ideas, and thoughts, without having to face all barriers of the deceiving outer looks, that we, normal people, judge others upon.
I miss him a lot.
The first time I met Zeid I was so fake. I kept praying he won't feel my forced casual attitude, or my trembling knees.
"Hi Zeid.."
"Oh Hi Dima"
"I'm here to-"
"Oh I know,I've been told, please have a seat"
"Thanks... so.. umm do we start from the beginning...?"
"Yes, please."
I held the thick black book in my hands. I read the title engraved in golden letters out loud. Flipped the cover, and through the first introductory pages, and started reading for fifty-two minutes.
The first day was over, and it was worse than I expected. Why do I always assume I have strength that I don't? Why do I always put myself in situations where I know for sure I will collapse?
The next day I went back, at the same time. I found Zeid sitting patiently, like he always did, in his black jacket, his hands on his lap, his right hand slightly curled over his left. He stared blankly at the floor.
"Good morning Zeid"
"Hey, Dima... I got you the tape recorder and some tapes, can you start recording the first chapter today please?"
"Yes, sure."
Zeid opened his old weary backpack and took out a dark green walkman from it. he held it carefully in his hands, by turn, he started feeling for each button and explaining slowly: " This button is rewind..forward...stop.. pause.. play... and the red one is record"
I thought to myslef... What does red mean to him? Is it any different than yellow, green, purple... Isn't it all just black?
He finished by showing me the eject button and how it opens the tape case. I smiled as I felt him proud to know all those buttons and their functions.
"Did you memorize them or do you want me to repeat them again?"
I smiled again saying: "No Zeid, I think I'll manage" What was silly to me, was considered an accomplishment to him.
"Please use it gently Dima, It's the only recorder I have."
"I will"
Everyday I would go read to Zeid his material. He would listen with the anticipation of all first-year students. And when I go back home, I would start reading and recording my voice on the tapes he gave me, so that Zeid can study by listening to those tapes.
"Zeid, why did you choose to study Islamic Studies?"
"Well, I can't study engineering for sure!" He chuckled. "I had limited choices, and I chose Islamic Studies because it makes me a better person."
I thought the deppression I sank into would fade into the daily routine of having to face Zeid. Only this depression grew deeper. Whatever I did, I felt guilty. Once, I walked him to class, he tripped over a step. I felt guilty, I should've warned him. Another time, he was about to trip when I told him to watch out for the step. I also felt guilty, I probably made him feel weak and helpless. I even felt guilty for just being able to see.
After two weeks Zeid had to take the English level exam. If he fails he will have to take three English courses. If he passes he will take only two. If he passes with a high average, he will have to take only one.
I had to go with him to read him the questions, and click on the answers he chooses.
Zeid was very calm that day. He told me that he was good in English and he is hoping to pass and take only two courses.
The exam started and I read the questions, each twice. Zeid took a lot of time to answer, and ended up giving me wrong answers for most questions. I would click on the wrong answer he chose and move to the next question. I started feeling that Zeid won't pass. There were a lot of questions left and not much time. I started reading three multiple choices instead of five. And yet he would give wrong answers. I started giving only two choices and he got some right. We finished all questions and had four more minutes to review. I looked at Zeid knowing he won't pass. I looked at him in his same black jacket, same white top, and same black shoes. I felt guilty that he will have to pay for three courses instead of two, knowing that to him it makes a big difference.
I remembered when Zeid told me that he is out of empty tapes. And that I should wait until he goes down town to get new tapes. I told him there's a store near university that sells tapes. He grimmaced saying they're too expensive, 20 piastres each.
I went back to the first questions Zeid answered wrong, put the right answers instead, and told him we're done. We waited for the result. He passed. I told him, and he laughed out loud disturbing other students who stared at Zeid and suddenly looked away when they realized he couldn't see.
When we got out he called almost everyone he knows to proudly tell them he passed. He held his cell phone, clicked 6 times on the middle button and counted outloud: "1,2,3,4,5,6. Does the name say Mohammed?" I looked at the cell phone "Yes it does." He pressed call and yelled "I told you I will pass I told you! hahay!". Zeid was so happy like a kid who got a new bike. Only I was almost sure he never got a bike. I even didn't help but to laugh at how he teased his friends and told them "And you said I won't pass!! Well you all owe me one JD!!!"
At this moment also, I felt guilty. I wanted him to know that I answered at least ten questions for him which he got wrong. But I knew I would kill his pride, the most special thing about Zeid. I also knew I would feel worse if I didn't tell him. " You know Zeid I helped you a lot, you really need to study for this course, you don't want to fail it."
"I know Dima, I know" was all he said.
We later became good friends. I would go to the center everyday, read to him and give him pop quizes which he hated the most. And I would get angry at him for not studying. I looked at him as a younger brother and somehow felt very responsible for him. He even taught me how to read and write alphabets and numbers using Prill's method. He explained to me the different tools he uses in writing. He always talked about this new special typewriter he heard about, which some of his friends at the center bought.
"It is very efficient, if I use it, it will take half the time to do my homework!"
"So why don't you buy it?"
"Well, it is very expensive, around 200 JD"
Again, I felt guilty.
In Eid I told a group of my friends that we should all gather money and get it to Zeid as a Eid gift. But I changed my mind at the last minute, knowing that Zeid's pride will refuse it and I will feel guilty for making him feel needy.
The semester was over. At the beginning of the second semester I called Zeid to arrange a time for reading. He told me that this semester he only wants me to record tapes, and a new volunteer, a guy, will read to him in the center. When I aksed why, embarrassed,He told me that he is an Islamic Studies student and it is better if a guy reads to him. This semester I haven't heard of him, neither tried calling him. Not wanting to embarrass him.
Zeid changed me a lot. He did really - like they say- see with his heart. He was always proud of his accomplishments. He never said 'I can't'. He was very independent. At the end of the first semester he knew the university by heart and never tripped on steps anymore. He never complained. Even when I overslept and missed the reading sessions. Even when I was late in recording him the tapes and gave the lamest excuses. He never complained. He was good at everything. But most of all, he was best at listening. His special disability of not seeing gave him the rare ability of true listening, analyzing personalities depending on their voices, ideas, and thoughts, without having to face all barriers of the deceiving outer looks, that we, normal people, judge others upon.
I miss him a lot.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Observations
A friend of mine once told me not to totally neglect stereotypes, because stereotypes did not emerge from scratch. They might include a lot of exaggerations, but they have a thread that links them to reality.
I'm really not trying to create stereotypes here, but this is something i personally noticed about people i met in my life. I don't know if i was lucky, or unlucky to have met people who constantly move between countries. So here's some of my observations:
-People who move to Jordan start talking about: Self-development, getting Masters degree, money, high prices, gas prices, taxes, and employment opportunities.
-People who move to Lebanon start talking about: Politics, Hariri, majlis elnowab, 7ezballah, shopping, Elie Sa3b, and Haifa Wehbi
-People who move to Saudi Arabia start talking about: Islam, cars, shopping, marriage, Saudism (sa3wade in jobs), and allowing women to drive.
-People who move to Egypt start talking about: Egyptian movies, latest plays in theatres, fighting corruption, making money.
People who move to UAE start talking about: Business opportunities, new investments, cars, and buying stocks.
People who move to the USA start talking about: Freedom of speech, racism, terrorism, Britney Spears, and globalization.
Again! Not creating stereotypes, just my own observations of a limited sample.
I'm really not trying to create stereotypes here, but this is something i personally noticed about people i met in my life. I don't know if i was lucky, or unlucky to have met people who constantly move between countries. So here's some of my observations:
-People who move to Jordan start talking about: Self-development, getting Masters degree, money, high prices, gas prices, taxes, and employment opportunities.
-People who move to Lebanon start talking about: Politics, Hariri, majlis elnowab, 7ezballah, shopping, Elie Sa3b, and Haifa Wehbi
-People who move to Saudi Arabia start talking about: Islam, cars, shopping, marriage, Saudism (sa3wade in jobs), and allowing women to drive.
-People who move to Egypt start talking about: Egyptian movies, latest plays in theatres, fighting corruption, making money.
People who move to UAE start talking about: Business opportunities, new investments, cars, and buying stocks.
People who move to the USA start talking about: Freedom of speech, racism, terrorism, Britney Spears, and globalization.
Again! Not creating stereotypes, just my own observations of a limited sample.
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Just Perfect
They always say that when you're happy, the sky turns blue, the birds start singing, and everything turns green. And when you're upset, the sky is dark, the birds are silent, and everything turns gray.Well, this might be true to most places in the world, except for one magical place... Amman.Today was like every other day, i even wasn't in a good mood at the beginning, some annoying situations happened, but when i got out into the street, Amman forced me to smile and to see everything in colors. The weather today was just perfect. A lot of people were strolling down the streets. Green tiny plants are covering the sides of the sidewalks. A mixture of a cool breeze with the warm sun made me feel that this is the healthiest air I can ever breathe. Children were playing around, some with their bicycles, some with their roller skates, others with footballs. It was just like a scene from a movie, only better.I came back home, feeling all better because of the beauty of Amman. So i decided to go out again, just to walk in the street by myself, and to take the most out of this day. I bought some chocolate, just to make this day more perfect! I even got jealous from the children and decided to run like them.
http://www.kuchtaworld.net/photos/images/amman1_jpg.jpg
P.S: Help! I'm trying to add an image of Amman, but every time i click on the add image button, nothing happends, all other buttions are working. Can anyone tell me what would be the problem??
http://www.kuchtaworld.net/photos/images/amman1_jpg.jpg
P.S: Help! I'm trying to add an image of Amman, but every time i click on the add image button, nothing happends, all other buttions are working. Can anyone tell me what would be the problem??
Wednesday, March 7, 2007
COME ON!
Lately we all noticed those chain letters that are spreading widley about a person who dreamt of the prophet (PBUH) or a Sheikh, or of Aisha the Prophet's daughter, and one of these people told him to forward the email and tell all people about it (whatever its content was). The email mentions that if you don't forward the message something bad will happen to you, and if you forward it something good will happen to you. My reply to this is: PUHHHLEAAASEE!
We really have to stop forwarding these emails because we are not naiive. These email are very negative because they are putting words into the Prophet's mouth (PBUH). Plus we don't know if it's really true if this person dreamt of such people or not. And a lot of people with different names are saying they had such dreams (mashallah kol el ummeh awleya2 9ale7een). Also, we as muslims, must not believe that "you will hear something bad if you don't forward"; because we simply believe in Fate and Destiny. This means that we believe no one can tell the future! I personally never forwarded these messages and el7amdilla nothing bad happened to me and i didn't hear any bad news!
If you feel that some of these emails contain some good prayers or tasbee7at, and you want to forward them because of the ajer of these prayers, you can do so but after erasing the part of the superficial dreams and threats and promises.
I don't know why people who created these emails did in the first place, but maybe they want to measure how much it takes to spread a rumor, or how many people actually believe that the prophet is sending us messages through people, i'm not sure. They are only using the prophet's name because they know how passionate muslims are about him and would do anything the prophet (PBUH) says. There might be actual people who realy did get those dreams, but the conditions and the "future telling" they attach with the email makes it all just unrealistic.
Ok 7akeet kteer i know! But i feel better now :D
We really have to stop forwarding these emails because we are not naiive. These email are very negative because they are putting words into the Prophet's mouth (PBUH). Plus we don't know if it's really true if this person dreamt of such people or not. And a lot of people with different names are saying they had such dreams (mashallah kol el ummeh awleya2 9ale7een). Also, we as muslims, must not believe that "you will hear something bad if you don't forward"; because we simply believe in Fate and Destiny. This means that we believe no one can tell the future! I personally never forwarded these messages and el7amdilla nothing bad happened to me and i didn't hear any bad news!
If you feel that some of these emails contain some good prayers or tasbee7at, and you want to forward them because of the ajer of these prayers, you can do so but after erasing the part of the superficial dreams and threats and promises.
I don't know why people who created these emails did in the first place, but maybe they want to measure how much it takes to spread a rumor, or how many people actually believe that the prophet is sending us messages through people, i'm not sure. They are only using the prophet's name because they know how passionate muslims are about him and would do anything the prophet (PBUH) says. There might be actual people who realy did get those dreams, but the conditions and the "future telling" they attach with the email makes it all just unrealistic.
Ok 7akeet kteer i know! But i feel better now :D
Tuesday, March 6, 2007
Reflection
The Good Earth is a book of 357 pages.
Out of these pages, two paragraphs were captivated in my memory;
"When the rich are too rich there are ways, and when the poor are too poor there are ways. Last winter we sold two girls and endured, and this winter, if this one my woman bears is a girl, we will sell again. One slave I have kept-the first. The others it is better to sell than to kill, although there are those who prefer to kill them before they draw breath. This is one of the ways when the poor are too poor. When the rich are too rich there is a way, and if I am not mistaken, that way will come soon."
Later on in the book, the poor get too poor, and they attack the House of Hwang and steal all its contents, for its rich residents have become too rich.
The other sentence justifies itself for being engraved in my memory;
"It is the end of a family - when you begin to sell the land," he said brokenly."Out of the land we came and into it we must go - and if you will hold your land you can live - no one can rob you of land-"
And the old man let his scanty tears dry upon his cheeks and they made salty stains there. And he stooped and took up a handful of the soil and hel held it and he muttered,
"If you sell the land, it is the end."
This book was such a lively experience, each chapter in it makes you relate to a personality you knew or heard about, or a story you encountered or heard about.
Out of these pages, two paragraphs were captivated in my memory;
"When the rich are too rich there are ways, and when the poor are too poor there are ways. Last winter we sold two girls and endured, and this winter, if this one my woman bears is a girl, we will sell again. One slave I have kept-the first. The others it is better to sell than to kill, although there are those who prefer to kill them before they draw breath. This is one of the ways when the poor are too poor. When the rich are too rich there is a way, and if I am not mistaken, that way will come soon."
Later on in the book, the poor get too poor, and they attack the House of Hwang and steal all its contents, for its rich residents have become too rich.
The other sentence justifies itself for being engraved in my memory;
"It is the end of a family - when you begin to sell the land," he said brokenly."Out of the land we came and into it we must go - and if you will hold your land you can live - no one can rob you of land-"
And the old man let his scanty tears dry upon his cheeks and they made salty stains there. And he stooped and took up a handful of the soil and hel held it and he muttered,
"If you sell the land, it is the end."
This book was such a lively experience, each chapter in it makes you relate to a personality you knew or heard about, or a story you encountered or heard about.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Dreams
Ever since i was a child... I wanted to be a journalist.
I am hiding inside the tent i made with my rainbow colored blanket, and two chairs i took from the dining table.
I have to stay silent.. and keep a low profile. Right outside lie all kinds of danger. I even replace my pencil with a pen. Pencils create too much noise when i write down my reports about day 12 in this war. I can't be heard. Not even the scribbling of my pencil. It's a very dangerous zone outside this tent.
My parents were my loyal audience.
I am performing infront of them, using my red comb as a microphone. They are listening to my report in which I discuss the israeli-palestinian conflict. They nod every now and then. They are interested.
My mother interrupts me to correct a grammer mistake.
I gradauted from high school.
Everyone thinks i am lucky because i know what i want to be. Everyone jokes around: Dima, aljazeera, moskoooooo.
I considered my choices.
Flashback: "But you know, politics got so dirty... i don't think i understand it any more, not the way i did back when i was 11. Things were much clearer then, and easier to comprehend."
"But Dima, what i know is when you have a dream, you chase it. You were always a journalist, don't stop now!"
"You don't understand, politics make my blood boil. I'm not as tough as i was. I was in more control back then...."
Flashback: Im in a conference, listening to a professor dicussing the middle east conflict.
Fresh tears force themselves out the corner of my eyes, with each country we discuss... Iraq..Lebanon...Syria...Iran... Plaestine...
Silly Dima, what kind of journalist cries when discussing politics.
Professor Green tries to soothe me down: "Don't worry Dima, I'm sure things in your region will get better... but only if you want to."
"Professor Green, the difference between you and us, is that you talk about the middle east, and then you back home. On the other hand, we talk about the middle east, and go back to the middle east..... we live in it every day every minute."
I applied for university.
I am sitting in class discussing the maturity of e-commerce in Jordan. After this class i have a meeting with my team to discuss our networks project.
The little journalist is still in the tent... writing reports with her pencil, and double checking for grammer mistakes. She dares to take a peek every now and then to see if it is still dangerous outside the tent, and quickly tucks her head back in. It is indeed.
She is still using the two chairs from the dining table. Only now she uses a thick black blanket instead of the rainbow colored one.
I am hiding inside the tent i made with my rainbow colored blanket, and two chairs i took from the dining table.
I have to stay silent.. and keep a low profile. Right outside lie all kinds of danger. I even replace my pencil with a pen. Pencils create too much noise when i write down my reports about day 12 in this war. I can't be heard. Not even the scribbling of my pencil. It's a very dangerous zone outside this tent.
My parents were my loyal audience.
I am performing infront of them, using my red comb as a microphone. They are listening to my report in which I discuss the israeli-palestinian conflict. They nod every now and then. They are interested.
My mother interrupts me to correct a grammer mistake.
I gradauted from high school.
Everyone thinks i am lucky because i know what i want to be. Everyone jokes around: Dima, aljazeera, moskoooooo.
I considered my choices.
Flashback: "But you know, politics got so dirty... i don't think i understand it any more, not the way i did back when i was 11. Things were much clearer then, and easier to comprehend."
"But Dima, what i know is when you have a dream, you chase it. You were always a journalist, don't stop now!"
"You don't understand, politics make my blood boil. I'm not as tough as i was. I was in more control back then...."
Flashback: Im in a conference, listening to a professor dicussing the middle east conflict.
Fresh tears force themselves out the corner of my eyes, with each country we discuss... Iraq..Lebanon...Syria...Iran... Plaestine...
Silly Dima, what kind of journalist cries when discussing politics.
Professor Green tries to soothe me down: "Don't worry Dima, I'm sure things in your region will get better... but only if you want to."
"Professor Green, the difference between you and us, is that you talk about the middle east, and then you back home. On the other hand, we talk about the middle east, and go back to the middle east..... we live in it every day every minute."
I applied for university.
I am sitting in class discussing the maturity of e-commerce in Jordan. After this class i have a meeting with my team to discuss our networks project.
The little journalist is still in the tent... writing reports with her pencil, and double checking for grammer mistakes. She dares to take a peek every now and then to see if it is still dangerous outside the tent, and quickly tucks her head back in. It is indeed.
She is still using the two chairs from the dining table. Only now she uses a thick black blanket instead of the rainbow colored one.
Monday, February 26, 2007
Customer Service in Amman
Situation One:
{Ordering fast food on the phone.}
After ordering, the guy said that the driver will call me now to take my address.
After 20 minutes, the driver didn't call, so I called them back.
Me: "mar7aba bs please ma 7ada 7aka ma3i 3ashan el3inwan...sarli 20 minutes bastanna.."
Guy: "Ah sorry hayyo ma3ek"
Driver: "Ah y5ti ween darko?"
Noise in the background coming from two guys fighting...
Me: " Ok.. halla2 iza inta jay min-"
Driver: "la7tha ballah ya5ti, SHABAB E6LA3O DOGGO BE BA3AD BARRA FE MA3I ZBOONE 3AL TELEPHONE MESHAN ALLAH EEEH!! "
Me: scared... i don't want food anymore..shbe3et
Driver: "ah kamli weenkom..?!"
I gave him directions and was glad when the conversation was over.
15 minutes later, a weird number miscalls me, i ditch. Then, it misscalls me another time, i ditch kaman. Yes! it misscalls me a third time.
So I call back.
DRIVER: "Ah shoofi ana hayne ta7et bs into be ay 6abeg ballah?!"
Situation Two:
{Ordering fast food and it is being delivered.}
Delivery Guy: "7sabek 4 dananeer w 20 gersh"
I give him 5 JD, and wait for the change.
Delivery Guy reaches in his pocket...empty, the other pocket.. empty
Cionsidence? I doubt.
Dilvery Guy: "Walla ma ma3i fakkeh, inte ma ma3ek??"
Me: "La walla ma ma3i."
Delivery Guy stares at me
I stare back.
Staring Contintues.
Mental non vocal conversation begins...
Delivery Guy: "Ya bay ma ab5alek kolhom 8o gersh 5alas 3a6eeni eyyahom bagsheesh"
Me: "Walla ana mo ba5eele, walla arya7li a36eek el 80 2ersh badal ma astannak troo7 tfek w terja3. Bs ma dal ma3i '3eer dinar bel ma7faza, w bokra bedi aroo7 3al jam3a, el taxi bya5od dinar w 40 2ersh, fa 3njad ba7tajhom!!"
Mental conversation is over.
Staring stops after one whole minute.
Delivery Guy snaps back into relaity: "Ok hassa baroo7 afek el 5 dananeer w raja3"
Me: Thnx
Situation Three:
{A freind of mine shopping.}
Salesman: "7adretek beddik teshtri wella bs btetfarraji?"
My Friend: "Umm.. mesh 3arfe... bs 3am batfarraj.."
Salesman: "Tab y5ti m3lesh tetfarraji min barra 3ashan bedna nesh6of elma7al."
No comment
{Ordering fast food on the phone.}
After ordering, the guy said that the driver will call me now to take my address.
After 20 minutes, the driver didn't call, so I called them back.
Me: "mar7aba bs please ma 7ada 7aka ma3i 3ashan el3inwan...sarli 20 minutes bastanna.."
Guy: "Ah sorry hayyo ma3ek"
Driver: "Ah y5ti ween darko?"
Noise in the background coming from two guys fighting...
Me: " Ok.. halla2 iza inta jay min-"
Driver: "la7tha ballah ya5ti, SHABAB E6LA3O DOGGO BE BA3AD BARRA FE MA3I ZBOONE 3AL TELEPHONE MESHAN ALLAH EEEH!! "
Me: scared... i don't want food anymore..shbe3et
Driver: "ah kamli weenkom..?!"
I gave him directions and was glad when the conversation was over.
15 minutes later, a weird number miscalls me, i ditch. Then, it misscalls me another time, i ditch kaman. Yes! it misscalls me a third time.
So I call back.
DRIVER: "Ah shoofi ana hayne ta7et bs into be ay 6abeg ballah?!"
Situation Two:
{Ordering fast food and it is being delivered.}
Delivery Guy: "7sabek 4 dananeer w 20 gersh"
I give him 5 JD, and wait for the change.
Delivery Guy reaches in his pocket...empty, the other pocket.. empty
Cionsidence? I doubt.
Dilvery Guy: "Walla ma ma3i fakkeh, inte ma ma3ek??"
Me: "La walla ma ma3i."
Delivery Guy stares at me
I stare back.
Staring Contintues.
Mental non vocal conversation begins...
Delivery Guy: "Ya bay ma ab5alek kolhom 8o gersh 5alas 3a6eeni eyyahom bagsheesh"
Me: "Walla ana mo ba5eele, walla arya7li a36eek el 80 2ersh badal ma astannak troo7 tfek w terja3. Bs ma dal ma3i '3eer dinar bel ma7faza, w bokra bedi aroo7 3al jam3a, el taxi bya5od dinar w 40 2ersh, fa 3njad ba7tajhom!!"
Mental conversation is over.
Staring stops after one whole minute.
Delivery Guy snaps back into relaity: "Ok hassa baroo7 afek el 5 dananeer w raja3"
Me: Thnx
Situation Three:
{A freind of mine shopping.}
Salesman: "7adretek beddik teshtri wella bs btetfarraji?"
My Friend: "Umm.. mesh 3arfe... bs 3am batfarraj.."
Salesman: "Tab y5ti m3lesh tetfarraji min barra 3ashan bedna nesh6of elma7al."
No comment
Saturday, February 24, 2007
معنى الوطن
لطالما اعتقدت أنه يوجد لدي "لخبطة" في معنى الوطن
عندما أسمع كلمة وطن... عدة أماكن تتبادر إلى ذهني و لا أعرف أي منها يستحق أن يكون "الوطن" . هل هو المكان الذي ولدت فيه... مشيت فيه... درست فيه... و عشت حياتي فيه؟ هل هو المكان الذي حرصت أمي أن أحفظ ألوان علمه... و أردد أناشيده... و أكتب قصائداٌ له؟ هل هو المكان الذي يقول جواز سفري أنني أنتمي إليه... و أعيش فيه... و لا يجعلني أشعر بالغربة أبداٌ؟ هل هو مكان لم تطأه قدمي بعد؟ هل هو مكان ليس في هذا العالم و لا في هذه الحياة بل في حياة أخرى؟
هل يجب أن يكون مكاناٌ أصلاٌ؟؟
ألا يمكن أن يكون الوطن شعوراٌ... كما يشعر الطفل في حضن أمه؟ ألا يمكن أن يكون الوطن جزءأٌ من الوقت... كلحظة معينة من الزمان... تشعر فيها بانتماء قوي ينبض به إحساسك؟ ألا يمكن أن يكون ذكرى تجعلك تبتسم طويلا كلما تذكرتها؟
أغار كثيراٌ منك أنت الذي يتبادر الى ذهنك شيئ واحد فقط عندما تسمع كلمة "وطن" أما أنا... فأضطر إلى أن أبحث عن الوطن في كثير من الأماكن... و كثير من المشاعر... و كثير من الأزمان... و كثير من الذكريات
و أخاف كثيراٌ ألا أجده إلا في حياة أخرى
Friday, February 23, 2007
Back!
I haven't written a post for almost a month now. I really do miss my blog!
It's finally spring time! So i thought i might choose a new template to go with my Second Blogging Season. I am back and full of energy to shower my blog with posts. :)
It's finally spring time! So i thought i might choose a new template to go with my Second Blogging Season. I am back and full of energy to shower my blog with posts. :)
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
To Feel Or Not To Feel
Is it better to feel? Or is it better not to feel?
Is it better to have feelings and emotions and get affected by every thrilling, tragic, or crazy detail that shapes your life story? Or is it better to be ignorant and emotionless about whatever goes on with your life?
At the first thought, most of us would choose to feel rather than not to feel. But take a minute or two to actually weigh in the two sides.
I personally have been tortured all my life, by a very dear friend whom i loathe as much as i adore. He always insisted that i "feel". His name is Conscience.
Whenever a hurtful incident happens, and i choose not to feel, Conscience is there to remind me to feel.
When people leave, either leave you for a while or leave life itself, you wish not to feel and to runaway for a while.
Whenever you read the news and read between lines the misery of nations, you wish not to feel. Whenever you have a bad day, a fight with a dear one, a bad grade, you wish not to feel.
When I look at people who do not feel, i find them very happy. Are they happy deep down there? I can't tell for sure. But for the moment, for me, they look happy. The choice they took of not to feel made them happy.. could it be?
I really envy people who can pass each day without having worries that emerge from having a "feeling" toward each incident. I envy people who fail a subject and shrug it off. I envy people who watch the war news, frown for a second, then change the channel.
Sometimes i wish i was ignorant and didn't feel as much, would life be easier? I always wonder.
Is it better to have feelings and emotions and get affected by every thrilling, tragic, or crazy detail that shapes your life story? Or is it better to be ignorant and emotionless about whatever goes on with your life?
At the first thought, most of us would choose to feel rather than not to feel. But take a minute or two to actually weigh in the two sides.
I personally have been tortured all my life, by a very dear friend whom i loathe as much as i adore. He always insisted that i "feel". His name is Conscience.
Whenever a hurtful incident happens, and i choose not to feel, Conscience is there to remind me to feel.
When people leave, either leave you for a while or leave life itself, you wish not to feel and to runaway for a while.
Whenever you read the news and read between lines the misery of nations, you wish not to feel. Whenever you have a bad day, a fight with a dear one, a bad grade, you wish not to feel.
When I look at people who do not feel, i find them very happy. Are they happy deep down there? I can't tell for sure. But for the moment, for me, they look happy. The choice they took of not to feel made them happy.. could it be?
I really envy people who can pass each day without having worries that emerge from having a "feeling" toward each incident. I envy people who fail a subject and shrug it off. I envy people who watch the war news, frown for a second, then change the channel.
Sometimes i wish i was ignorant and didn't feel as much, would life be easier? I always wonder.
Sunday, January 28, 2007
The Good Earth
I started reading a very old novel today, it's called The Good Earth, by Pearl S. Buck. I only finished the first chapter, and started liking it already. It's a Chinese tale telling the story of a farmer who lives with his father, and recently got married to a woman that used to be a slave in a mansion.
And then! I had a thought:
How about if we start a bloggers' book club?
Each month or so , we choose a book, read it, and then we all discuss it.
We can even discuss the book before finishing it, on a daily or a weekly basis let's say.
I really love to read, but only a few of my friends read. So normally i don't find people to discuss my thoughts about the books i read with. But my new blogger friends sound intellectual somehow and might be interested in books and nerdy stuff.
So, what do you say guys?? Bring out the nerd in you! Join Dima's one and only book club on the blogoshpere (although im not sure of that, i bet there are other book clubs)
So who's in? Leave a comment if you would like to join the book club, and feed your mind with the Chinese heritage that is full of wisdom.
Eager to hear your ideas and thoughts.
And then! I had a thought:
How about if we start a bloggers' book club?
Each month or so , we choose a book, read it, and then we all discuss it.
We can even discuss the book before finishing it, on a daily or a weekly basis let's say.
I really love to read, but only a few of my friends read. So normally i don't find people to discuss my thoughts about the books i read with. But my new blogger friends sound intellectual somehow and might be interested in books and nerdy stuff.
So, what do you say guys?? Bring out the nerd in you! Join Dima's one and only book club on the blogoshpere (although im not sure of that, i bet there are other book clubs)
So who's in? Leave a comment if you would like to join the book club, and feed your mind with the Chinese heritage that is full of wisdom.
Eager to hear your ideas and thoughts.
Friday, January 26, 2007
Then and Now
Then (Time:Four months ago, Place: Amman, Jordan. Status: Alone)
Day 1: Breakfast: Water.
Lunch: Chicken Royal meal, Meduim size, with coke from Burger King
Dinner: Indomie, curry flavour (instant noodles)
Day 2: Breakfast: Water.
Lunch: Indomie.
Dinner: Indomie
Day 3: Breakfast: Water.
Lunch: Chicken Royal meal.
Dinner: Indomie
Day 8274938743: Breakfast: Water.
Lunch: Indomie
Dinner: Chicken Royal.
Now (Time: Since Thursday (yesterday). Place: Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. Satus: With family)
Day 1: Breakfast: jebneh, labneh, zaytoon, tomatoes, cucumbers, soft not dry bread, tea.
Lunch: Tabee5 Laban, rice, pickles, juice.
Between lunch and dinner: Roz be 7aleeb, merameyye, fruits, chocolates.....
Dinner: Fried eggs, martadella, jebneh, vegetables, juice, tea.
Day 2: Breakfast: Cheese Sandwitch, tomatoes, pickles, and tea
Lunch: Fish and chips, shrimps, macarooni salad, rice.
Dinner: Still to come, can't wait
And you all ask me why do you love Riyadh???
Love you mom, your the best Chef (K)
Day 1: Breakfast: Water.
Lunch: Chicken Royal meal, Meduim size, with coke from Burger King
Dinner: Indomie, curry flavour (instant noodles)
Day 2: Breakfast: Water.
Lunch: Indomie.
Dinner: Indomie
Day 3: Breakfast: Water.
Lunch: Chicken Royal meal.
Dinner: Indomie
Day 8274938743: Breakfast: Water.
Lunch: Indomie
Dinner: Chicken Royal.
Now (Time: Since Thursday (yesterday). Place: Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. Satus: With family)
Day 1: Breakfast: jebneh, labneh, zaytoon, tomatoes, cucumbers, soft not dry bread, tea.
Lunch: Tabee5 Laban, rice, pickles, juice.
Between lunch and dinner: Roz be 7aleeb, merameyye, fruits, chocolates.....
Dinner: Fried eggs, martadella, jebneh, vegetables, juice, tea.
Day 2: Breakfast: Cheese Sandwitch, tomatoes, pickles, and tea
Lunch: Fish and chips, shrimps, macarooni salad, rice.
Dinner: Still to come, can't wait
And you all ask me why do you love Riyadh???
Love you mom, your the best Chef (K)
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Make sure the software on your laptop is original when traveling!
THE SAUDI GAZETTE ( SAUDI ARABIA ), January 2007:
Saudi Students held at US Airports
The Saudi Gazette
PHILADELPHIA
TWO separate groups of Saudi students were detained at Philadelphia and New York airports by US Immigration Authorities for violating copyright laws, reported the Arabic language daily newspaper Okaz Thursday.
The students were found to be carrying pirated software in their laptops. The Saudi students, who arrived in the US , said some of their colleagues were detained at New York airport for 48 hours. They said the US immigration authorities scanned all the contents and programs stored in the laptops by incoming Saudi students.
A Saudi students association in the US has warned the incoming Saudis against carrying any pirated programs or anything referring to extremist groups anywhere in the world in their laptops.
The association confirmed the US authorities are questioning some Saudi students while others have been deported.
It also mentioned that some students are being tried. The penalty for copyright law violation ranges between 5-20 years in prison, and the luckiest ones get deported.
Saudi Students held at US Airports
The Saudi Gazette
PHILADELPHIA
TWO separate groups of Saudi students were detained at Philadelphia and New York airports by US Immigration Authorities for violating copyright laws, reported the Arabic language daily newspaper Okaz Thursday.
The students were found to be carrying pirated software in their laptops. The Saudi students, who arrived in the US , said some of their colleagues were detained at New York airport for 48 hours. They said the US immigration authorities scanned all the contents and programs stored in the laptops by incoming Saudi students.
A Saudi students association in the US has warned the incoming Saudis against carrying any pirated programs or anything referring to extremist groups anywhere in the world in their laptops.
The association confirmed the US authorities are questioning some Saudi students while others have been deported.
It also mentioned that some students are being tried. The penalty for copyright law violation ranges between 5-20 years in prison, and the luckiest ones get deported.
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
Along Came A Gas Truck...
I'm sitting peacefully, studying for an Electronic Business quiz. Although it's cold outside, I'm enjoying the warmness of the room provided by me beloved gas heater.
Suddenly, i feel a cold shudder. I look at my dearful heater to find it's flame has gone off.
Dramatic moment: " Noooooooooo...5eles el'3az :("
Ok, no problem, I'll turn the radiators on instead ;)
Another dramatic moment: " Nooooooo... nseet a3abbi Solar :("
Confusion is arising, only two things circulate endlessly in my mind: It's cold, i need gas!
And the journey begins.
I take my E-Business book, and go stand behind the window, waiting upon a wish... that will turn my cold hours into happy warm ones... waiting..... for the only thing that will make my life better..... wiating.... for my only hope..... The Gas Truck.
I wait and wait and wait. Oh! do I hear a gas truck coming??? Yes it is! Ya lal far7a! No! The sound of its music is fading away, the truck turned into another neighborhood....
The waiting continues.. my breath leaves miserable cirlces of fog on the freezing glass as i wait and pray for a gas truck to show up.
I can hear it! YES! The lovely music of the gas truck... the Bethoven's 2837.2/3 symphony that delcares a promise: "Fear no fear, no more cold is here"
I prepare myself to charge. Here comes the hardest mission: attracting the truck's attention.
I open the window, the cold breeze slaps my cheecks.
"I can do it...I will do it"
I start waving my hands at the truck driver HOON LAW SAMA7T HOOON.
The driver is enjoying a smoke, and doesn't pay attention to me. Another woman on another window is waving to him as well.
I need to think fast"No... I won't let her have the gas truck first, it's getting very cold,,and I need to study, sorry auntie!"
So i start my next charge: Karate moves that i learned when i was twelve, jumping, hitting my fists through the air, anything to attract the driver's attention.
YES he noticed.! He gestures in his hand asking: kam jarra????
I gesture using my fingers: Two! Two!
A little boy coming back from the dokkane eating chips Cheezy excitingly jumps and waves his hands at me: BYEE!! Inno 3njad ma b3raf shu da5alo, 3m b3mel be my hands TWo lal 3ammo taba3 el'3az mesh BYE la elo!
I go open the door to receive my lovely gas bottle. I find all the neighbors openning their doors asking me pleadingly: " Shu??!! Ija el'3az???" I reply "Yes! Ija el7amdilla!!"
And the orders for jarrat el'3az start exploding from every door in the building
"Jarra wa7de!...Jarteen...hoon 3ndak!"
Finally the process is over, all neighbors give me this thankful pittyful look as they close their doors.
I am proud of myslef. for I, and no one but I, who got the gas truck to the building. It is because of me, and my suffering next to the freezing window, that everyone is feeling warm, and the neighbor's children are laughing again, and chasing each other in the house like monkeys :)
Suddenly, i feel a cold shudder. I look at my dearful heater to find it's flame has gone off.
Dramatic moment: " Noooooooooo...5eles el'3az :("
Ok, no problem, I'll turn the radiators on instead ;)
Another dramatic moment: " Nooooooo... nseet a3abbi Solar :("
Confusion is arising, only two things circulate endlessly in my mind: It's cold, i need gas!
And the journey begins.
I take my E-Business book, and go stand behind the window, waiting upon a wish... that will turn my cold hours into happy warm ones... waiting..... for the only thing that will make my life better..... wiating.... for my only hope..... The Gas Truck.
I wait and wait and wait. Oh! do I hear a gas truck coming??? Yes it is! Ya lal far7a! No! The sound of its music is fading away, the truck turned into another neighborhood....
The waiting continues.. my breath leaves miserable cirlces of fog on the freezing glass as i wait and pray for a gas truck to show up.
I can hear it! YES! The lovely music of the gas truck... the Bethoven's 2837.2/3 symphony that delcares a promise: "Fear no fear, no more cold is here"
I prepare myself to charge. Here comes the hardest mission: attracting the truck's attention.
I open the window, the cold breeze slaps my cheecks.
"I can do it...I will do it"
I start waving my hands at the truck driver HOON LAW SAMA7T HOOON.
The driver is enjoying a smoke, and doesn't pay attention to me. Another woman on another window is waving to him as well.
I need to think fast"No... I won't let her have the gas truck first, it's getting very cold,,and I need to study, sorry auntie!"
So i start my next charge: Karate moves that i learned when i was twelve, jumping, hitting my fists through the air, anything to attract the driver's attention.
YES he noticed.! He gestures in his hand asking: kam jarra????
I gesture using my fingers: Two! Two!
A little boy coming back from the dokkane eating chips Cheezy excitingly jumps and waves his hands at me: BYEE!! Inno 3njad ma b3raf shu da5alo, 3m b3mel be my hands TWo lal 3ammo taba3 el'3az mesh BYE la elo!
I go open the door to receive my lovely gas bottle. I find all the neighbors openning their doors asking me pleadingly: " Shu??!! Ija el'3az???" I reply "Yes! Ija el7amdilla!!"
And the orders for jarrat el'3az start exploding from every door in the building
"Jarra wa7de!...Jarteen...hoon 3ndak!"
Finally the process is over, all neighbors give me this thankful pittyful look as they close their doors.
I am proud of myslef. for I, and no one but I, who got the gas truck to the building. It is because of me, and my suffering next to the freezing window, that everyone is feeling warm, and the neighbor's children are laughing again, and chasing each other in the house like monkeys :)
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Nedba7lak 6ayr El7amam!
Once I was sitting with an American friend: Joanne, and a Tunisian friend: Marwan.
Joanne asked me: "Dima, what lullabies do you sing for babies to sleep?"
So, I started singing happily: "Yalla nnam yalla nnam nedba7lak 6ayr el7amam-"
Marwan interrupted me, eyes wide open and said: "SHNOWA?!! NEDBA7LAK 6AYR EL7AMAM??!!!"
I got shocked ofcourse: " Yeah Marwan.... this is how the song goes...doesn't it...??"
Marwan, even more shocked:"3ALEEH TEDBA7 6AYR EL7AMAM ELMESKEEN??!!! 6AYR EL7AMAM RAMZ LAL SALAM!! Go on! Continue the song I want to know the rest!!"
Freaking out i continued singing in my shaking voice: "Roo7 ya 7amam la tsadda2, ned7ak 3ala Joanne ta tnam-"
Marwan: "KAMAAAN!! NED7AK 3ALA JOANNE?? MOSH BS DABE7 7AMAM! KAMAN NED7AK Y3NI NEKTHEB!"
By this time, i was laughing like crazy. Joanne ofcourse didn't understand and requested translation.
Marwan translated: " Go to sleep, go to sleep, and I will SLAUGHTER a pigeon for you, go poor pigeon don't believe us, we are LYING to the baby so that the baby would shutup and sleep!!!!"
Joanne was getting really scared and feeling insecure at this point. With tears forming in her eyes she said: "But...why would you slaughter an innocent pigeon....I mean, do you mean that the baby can't sleep unless he is SURE that the pigeon will be slaughtered??!!"
Marwan: " Shofti ya Dima!!! This is the most terrifying song I ever heard!!! The baby will have nightmares when he sleeps of pigeons and blood!! W kamannn mosh bs hakka (hakka y3ni heek) kaman on top of that the mother is lying! What example of a mother is she!!!"
Tab3an ana by this time i couldn't breathe I was laughing so hard. I mean 3njad!!!! How come we never thought of the meanings!!
Marwan: " Tell me Dima, who sang this song??? Or did your mother make it up just to scare you?!"
I was like: "C'mon! It's known worldwide!! It's for Fairouz!!"
Marwan:"How dare you!!! Fairouz is full of passion and sensitivity!! She's not a pigeon-killer, chlidren-terrifyer terrorist!!!"
El7amdilla i didn't continue the song, or else Marwan would've had a heart attack, especially if he heard the part which says: ya bayya3 el3inab, wel 3inabeyye, 5a6afooni el'3ajar...
I can imagine him saying: "SHNOWA 5A6EF KAMAN!! W RAS OMMI INNIK ERHABEYYA!" and then he would translate to poor Joanne: " O' grapes seller, the nomads kidnapped me.."
I decided to never sing this song if I have children one day!
Joanne asked me: "Dima, what lullabies do you sing for babies to sleep?"
So, I started singing happily: "Yalla nnam yalla nnam nedba7lak 6ayr el7amam-"
Marwan interrupted me, eyes wide open and said: "SHNOWA?!! NEDBA7LAK 6AYR EL7AMAM??!!!"
I got shocked ofcourse: " Yeah Marwan.... this is how the song goes...doesn't it...??"
Marwan, even more shocked:"3ALEEH TEDBA7 6AYR EL7AMAM ELMESKEEN??!!! 6AYR EL7AMAM RAMZ LAL SALAM!! Go on! Continue the song I want to know the rest!!"
Freaking out i continued singing in my shaking voice: "Roo7 ya 7amam la tsadda2, ned7ak 3ala Joanne ta tnam-"
Marwan: "KAMAAAN!! NED7AK 3ALA JOANNE?? MOSH BS DABE7 7AMAM! KAMAN NED7AK Y3NI NEKTHEB!"
By this time, i was laughing like crazy. Joanne ofcourse didn't understand and requested translation.
Marwan translated: " Go to sleep, go to sleep, and I will SLAUGHTER a pigeon for you, go poor pigeon don't believe us, we are LYING to the baby so that the baby would shutup and sleep!!!!"
Joanne was getting really scared and feeling insecure at this point. With tears forming in her eyes she said: "But...why would you slaughter an innocent pigeon....I mean, do you mean that the baby can't sleep unless he is SURE that the pigeon will be slaughtered??!!"
Marwan: " Shofti ya Dima!!! This is the most terrifying song I ever heard!!! The baby will have nightmares when he sleeps of pigeons and blood!! W kamannn mosh bs hakka (hakka y3ni heek) kaman on top of that the mother is lying! What example of a mother is she!!!"
Tab3an ana by this time i couldn't breathe I was laughing so hard. I mean 3njad!!!! How come we never thought of the meanings!!
Marwan: " Tell me Dima, who sang this song??? Or did your mother make it up just to scare you?!"
I was like: "C'mon! It's known worldwide!! It's for Fairouz!!"
Marwan:"How dare you!!! Fairouz is full of passion and sensitivity!! She's not a pigeon-killer, chlidren-terrifyer terrorist!!!"
El7amdilla i didn't continue the song, or else Marwan would've had a heart attack, especially if he heard the part which says: ya bayya3 el3inab, wel 3inabeyye, 5a6afooni el'3ajar...
I can imagine him saying: "SHNOWA 5A6EF KAMAN!! W RAS OMMI INNIK ERHABEYYA!" and then he would translate to poor Joanne: " O' grapes seller, the nomads kidnapped me.."
I decided to never sing this song if I have children one day!
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
5 Thing You Don't Know About Me
Well, Wedad tagged me, and since I'm still new on this whole blogging thing, this is my first tag :D
Soooo five things you don't know about me would be:
1) I have a phobia from statues :S, not a reeaal phobia, but whenever i'm near to a statue (including the plastic models in malls) i feel really uncomfortable and i get goose bumps. Especially if the statue was human shaped. I feel that this statue will suddenly whisper a secret in my ear, a secret that I will have to carry it's burden all my life, or what if it winks at me?? What if it's not just a statue? what if it's a real human that got stoned over the ages. ya mamaaaaa :(
2) I was chosen to represent Jordan for two months at the University of Delaware, Delaware, USA in the last summer, in a program for Leadership and American studies.
3) I am currently working on a theory that will hopefully make it not important for humans to sleep. I truly see sleeping as a waste of time. We spend at least 7 hours of the day lying still doing nothing. 3njad it's a waste of time. The world would be much more developed if people didn't have to sleep everyday. We would have had Internet since the last 50 years isntead. My theory will make it possible to sleep for only two hours and still be able to function well.
4) I live alone in Jordan, my family is in Riyadh. This means inni ba3raf keef arakeb jarret el'3az la7aaali :D
5) I tried all hobbies in life: Writing, reading, collecting stamps, acting in plays, drawing, handcrafts, piano, teasing Shadi ibin eljeeran (Shadi kteer zene5 w kaman his brothers Hadi w Fadi azna5 minno, bekafi asma2hom zay ba3ad, they deserved to be teased, i won't feel guilty about that). Elmohem, I am only left with one hobby now: Reading :D
Soooo five things you don't know about me would be:
1) I have a phobia from statues :S, not a reeaal phobia, but whenever i'm near to a statue (including the plastic models in malls) i feel really uncomfortable and i get goose bumps. Especially if the statue was human shaped. I feel that this statue will suddenly whisper a secret in my ear, a secret that I will have to carry it's burden all my life, or what if it winks at me?? What if it's not just a statue? what if it's a real human that got stoned over the ages. ya mamaaaaa :(
2) I was chosen to represent Jordan for two months at the University of Delaware, Delaware, USA in the last summer, in a program for Leadership and American studies.
3) I am currently working on a theory that will hopefully make it not important for humans to sleep. I truly see sleeping as a waste of time. We spend at least 7 hours of the day lying still doing nothing. 3njad it's a waste of time. The world would be much more developed if people didn't have to sleep everyday. We would have had Internet since the last 50 years isntead. My theory will make it possible to sleep for only two hours and still be able to function well.
4) I live alone in Jordan, my family is in Riyadh. This means inni ba3raf keef arakeb jarret el'3az la7aaali :D
5) I tried all hobbies in life: Writing, reading, collecting stamps, acting in plays, drawing, handcrafts, piano, teasing Shadi ibin eljeeran (Shadi kteer zene5 w kaman his brothers Hadi w Fadi azna5 minno, bekafi asma2hom zay ba3ad, they deserved to be teased, i won't feel guilty about that). Elmohem, I am only left with one hobby now: Reading :D
6) Something extra: I met the Dalai Lama.
Ok, tag accomplished, I tag: Faris (Hareega), Sara (Sarazation), Diana (Tulip), and The Vegeterian Shark
Ok, tag accomplished, I tag: Faris (Hareega), Sara (Sarazation), Diana (Tulip), and The Vegeterian Shark
Sunday, January 14, 2007
Invisible Children
I watched a documentary movie called Invisible Children. This movie has touched eveyone who's watched it. It brought tears into everyone's eyes. I really hate tragic documentaries and movies. But, in my opnion, it's a crime against humanity not to watch this movie.
The Middle East is a very troubled region, and we have more than enough catastrophes to worry about. This has stopped us from caring about world issues, since we are mostly the world's issue. All I'm asking is that we have to at least know about this even more troubled region, Africa.
I got the following information from the movie's website: www.invisiblechildren.com
What started out as a film-making adventure in Africa, transformed into much more, when the three young American’s (Jason Russell, Bobby Bailey, and Laren Poole) original travels took a divine turn, and they found themselves stranded in Northern Uganda. They discovered children being kidnapped nightly from their homes and subsequently forced to become fight as child soldiers. This film is dedicated to exposing this tragic, and amazingly untold story.
Even at this moment, in Uganda, Children as young as 8 are methodically kidnapped from their homes by a rebel group called the “Lord’s Resistance Army” (LRA). The abducted children are then desensitized to the horror of brutal violence and killing, as they themselves are turned into vicious fighters. Some escape and hide in constant fear for their lives. Most remain captive, and grow to maturity with no education other than life “in the bush” and fighting in a guerilla war.
Even at this moment, in Uganda, Children as young as 8 are methodically kidnapped from their homes by a rebel group called the “Lord’s Resistance Army” (LRA). The abducted children are then desensitized to the horror of brutal violence and killing, as they themselves are turned into vicious fighters. Some escape and hide in constant fear for their lives. Most remain captive, and grow to maturity with no education other than life “in the bush” and fighting in a guerilla war.
Here's a link to a trailor about the movie. I wish anyone who reads this post tries to get this movie. When you buy the movie, you get two copies, one for you to keep, and one to pass around. However, watching the movie is not enough, we need to start acting. The website includes many ways in which you can react.
*I'm a new blogger, I'm not sure how to make the trailor available from You Tube on this post. If anyone kows jsut please leave a comment.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Ellison's Oath on the Qur'an
Muslim Congress Representative, Keith Ellison takes his oath by putting his hand on the Qur'an.
We all have been hearing about this incident.
At the beginning when i heard this news, I was worried that this will arouse new problems toward Muslims. I was telling myself "Since some of Congress members do not even use a book, and they just raise their hands to take the oath, why can't Rep. Ellison just do the same and swear by the name of Allah, without a book like the rest. This way, it will be just normal and will save him and Muslims all critisism. I thought that as a Muslim, there are much important things he should be proving. And maybe starting his membership with all these hysterical reactions toward him might not be an indication of a good start.
But then I came to realize two important things:
First of all, the Congress must understand how deep Rep. Ellison's loyalty is to America. He chose his holy book, the Quraan, to take the oath. It is this serious to him. He is this sure of his loyalty to his country. Qura'an is a way of life, it sets all the rules that a human being will need to live a decent life. Rep. Ellison's oath was taken on the book that organizes his whole life. We must not forget that taking an oath over Qura'an in Islam is not something easy. If you take a false oath, or break your oath in the future, it is considered a serious sin.
Second of all, by doing this, Rep. Ellsion - I am quoting Mr. James Zogbi- "sends a clear message to the world about American diversity and our values of acceptance and inclusion that have made us strong." Americans should be proud that a new member of their congress sees this diversity as a key of success to the American story, and chooses to start his political career as a congress member reminding America of one of its successive elements, accepting diversity. What is really interesting is that Rep. Ellison used Qur'an copy that once belonged to none other than President Thomas Jefferson, the USA's thrid president. Rep. Ellison used this copy to remind Americans of how understanding their profounders once were toward diversity.
But then I came to realize two important things:
First of all, the Congress must understand how deep Rep. Ellison's loyalty is to America. He chose his holy book, the Quraan, to take the oath. It is this serious to him. He is this sure of his loyalty to his country. Qura'an is a way of life, it sets all the rules that a human being will need to live a decent life. Rep. Ellison's oath was taken on the book that organizes his whole life. We must not forget that taking an oath over Qura'an in Islam is not something easy. If you take a false oath, or break your oath in the future, it is considered a serious sin.
Second of all, by doing this, Rep. Ellsion - I am quoting Mr. James Zogbi- "sends a clear message to the world about American diversity and our values of acceptance and inclusion that have made us strong." Americans should be proud that a new member of their congress sees this diversity as a key of success to the American story, and chooses to start his political career as a congress member reminding America of one of its successive elements, accepting diversity. What is really interesting is that Rep. Ellison used Qur'an copy that once belonged to none other than President Thomas Jefferson, the USA's thrid president. Rep. Ellison used this copy to remind Americans of how understanding their profounders once were toward diversity.
Here a link for more information: : www.asiantribune.com/index.php?q=node/3995
Monday, January 8, 2007
No Comment
I discovered lately that this life is full of hippocrates. A lot of situations happened that made me stand astonished at how silly and stupid people can get.
I don't knwo why, but i feel that the more the wolrd grows older, the more the "brains" of its citizens become smaller. Also, i feel that people are really becmong aggressive and over protective. A lot of people i know are becoming really defensive. It's as if that the trend here is being aggressive or defensive. It's really weird. Once you ask someone anything, they jump into defending themselves and giving excuses.
I know that your friends at universtiy change constatnly, i mean you might have a best friend or two, but with time, this might change too. People get busy and find new lives, and that's ok. But what astonishes me most is that when you run across a friend that you havn't seen for a long time and go like " heyy zaman 3anik, i missed you weenik?!" Instead of just going with the flow and saying the same back, they reply to you by saying: "heyy, i miss you too, why the hell don't you ask about me??? you changed a lot. I always ask friends about you and i tell them to tell you to call me." lol this is ironic. Instead of telling friends to tell me to call you, why don't you call yourself?? I mean, i can blame you for the exact same thing, but i choose not to, because i know you have your own excuses just like i have mine! The idea is, being defensive and blaming others for insignificent matters suck.
All my life i believed that the Liar, is the worst person in life. I can stand a thief, anyone, but not a liar. Currently, i thought i might add another charachter i abhor, the Selfish. The one who delays the whole work of a group, and won't let anyone work, untill they get done with personal business. The one who does not engage in any matter of any kind, unless it has direct benifit to themselves. The one that will never help you, unless they are sure that they will need something from you in the future. The one that tells the story in a way that makes them sound that they've done all the job, and their team did nothing, although in reality its vice versa, and you to choose to shutup, and let them go with this lie, because you're mature, and you work for your ownslef, and to satisfy your own consious, not to get appraisal from others. I also started hating immitators, who just do what everyone is doing without knowing why. Saddam has been on trial since ever, and now once he's dead, everyone is putting his pictures on their mobile wallpapers and msn display pictures. Suddenly everyone loves him. I call this hippocracy. The same people who said that Saddam is a dictator and evil, are now saying he was a "hero" and a "shaheed" and are already writing him peoms. I even heard people saying that the whole Kimawi war was a lie and that Saddam was throwing "flour" just to scare them, and he wouldn't kill anyone. Anyway, i don't know much about that since I choose to be ignorant about politics becasue usually, after discussing politics i end having nausia.
All what i'm asking from our very mature nation is to base their "feelings" and "sense of belonging" on solid facts, opinions, and then decissions. Don't just do what eveyrone is doing. How special does this leave you? Have your own thoughts and ideas, read, listen, discuss, debate, think, and then form an opnion. You will be much respected for an opnion that you worked on hard to develop, rather than an immitated opinion that missleads you and missleads others. And by respect I mean respect for your self. Enough is enough, we seriously need to grow.
I don't knwo why, but i feel that the more the wolrd grows older, the more the "brains" of its citizens become smaller. Also, i feel that people are really becmong aggressive and over protective. A lot of people i know are becoming really defensive. It's as if that the trend here is being aggressive or defensive. It's really weird. Once you ask someone anything, they jump into defending themselves and giving excuses.
I know that your friends at universtiy change constatnly, i mean you might have a best friend or two, but with time, this might change too. People get busy and find new lives, and that's ok. But what astonishes me most is that when you run across a friend that you havn't seen for a long time and go like " heyy zaman 3anik, i missed you weenik?!" Instead of just going with the flow and saying the same back, they reply to you by saying: "heyy, i miss you too, why the hell don't you ask about me??? you changed a lot. I always ask friends about you and i tell them to tell you to call me." lol this is ironic. Instead of telling friends to tell me to call you, why don't you call yourself?? I mean, i can blame you for the exact same thing, but i choose not to, because i know you have your own excuses just like i have mine! The idea is, being defensive and blaming others for insignificent matters suck.
All my life i believed that the Liar, is the worst person in life. I can stand a thief, anyone, but not a liar. Currently, i thought i might add another charachter i abhor, the Selfish. The one who delays the whole work of a group, and won't let anyone work, untill they get done with personal business. The one who does not engage in any matter of any kind, unless it has direct benifit to themselves. The one that will never help you, unless they are sure that they will need something from you in the future. The one that tells the story in a way that makes them sound that they've done all the job, and their team did nothing, although in reality its vice versa, and you to choose to shutup, and let them go with this lie, because you're mature, and you work for your ownslef, and to satisfy your own consious, not to get appraisal from others. I also started hating immitators, who just do what everyone is doing without knowing why. Saddam has been on trial since ever, and now once he's dead, everyone is putting his pictures on their mobile wallpapers and msn display pictures. Suddenly everyone loves him. I call this hippocracy. The same people who said that Saddam is a dictator and evil, are now saying he was a "hero" and a "shaheed" and are already writing him peoms. I even heard people saying that the whole Kimawi war was a lie and that Saddam was throwing "flour" just to scare them, and he wouldn't kill anyone. Anyway, i don't know much about that since I choose to be ignorant about politics becasue usually, after discussing politics i end having nausia.
All what i'm asking from our very mature nation is to base their "feelings" and "sense of belonging" on solid facts, opinions, and then decissions. Don't just do what eveyrone is doing. How special does this leave you? Have your own thoughts and ideas, read, listen, discuss, debate, think, and then form an opnion. You will be much respected for an opnion that you worked on hard to develop, rather than an immitated opinion that missleads you and missleads others. And by respect I mean respect for your self. Enough is enough, we seriously need to grow.
Wednesday, January 3, 2007
The Art of Discourse
The essential nature of Socrates' art lay in the fact that he did not appear to want to instruct people. On the contrary he gave the impression of one desiring to learn from those he spoke with. So instead of lecturing like a traditional schoolmaster, he discussed.
Obviously he would not have become a famous philosopher had he confined himself purely to listening to others. Nor would he have been sentenced to death. But he just asked questions, especially to begin a conversation, as if he knew nothing. In the course of the discussion he would generally get his opponents to recognize the weakness of their arguments, and, forced into a corner, they would finally be obliged to realize what was right and what was wrong.
Socrates, whose mother was a midwife, used to say that his art was like the art of the midwife. She does not herself give birth to the child, but she is there to help during its delivery. Similarly, Socrates saw his task as helping people to "give birth" to the correct insight, since real understanding must come from within. It cannot be imparted by someone else. And only the understanding that comes from within can lead to true insight.
By Jostein Gaarder, In Sophie's World
Obviously he would not have become a famous philosopher had he confined himself purely to listening to others. Nor would he have been sentenced to death. But he just asked questions, especially to begin a conversation, as if he knew nothing. In the course of the discussion he would generally get his opponents to recognize the weakness of their arguments, and, forced into a corner, they would finally be obliged to realize what was right and what was wrong.
Socrates, whose mother was a midwife, used to say that his art was like the art of the midwife. She does not herself give birth to the child, but she is there to help during its delivery. Similarly, Socrates saw his task as helping people to "give birth" to the correct insight, since real understanding must come from within. It cannot be imparted by someone else. And only the understanding that comes from within can lead to true insight.
By Jostein Gaarder, In Sophie's World
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)