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.