I like this picture I took of Sign of Thyme during their last concert at the Royal Cultural Center. The event itself was enjoyable and made me realize that I am biased to traditional/semi-traditional Arabic musical sounds. Surprise, surprise.

I have two videos of the performance but they’re very, very fat and YouTube won’t take them. I must use some sort of video editing software to resize them. Speaking of which, does anyone know of a reliable video editing software for Ubuntu? I hate going back to use my brother’s Windows to edit my videos. Help will be rewarded with positive vibes.

To a reader: Do not trust the poem –
The daughter of absence
It is neither intuition nor is it
Thought
But rather, the sense of the abyss…

(State of Siege)

حــــالة حصـــار

(مقاطع)
هنا، عند مُنْحَدَرات التلال، أمام الغروب وفُوَّهَة الوقت،
قُرْبَ بساتينَ مقطوعةِ الظلِ،
نفعلُ ما يفعلُ السجناءُ،
وما يفعل العاطلون عن العمل:
نُرَبِّي الأملْ.

بلادٌ علي أُهْبَةِ الفجر. صرنا أَقلَّ ذكاءً،
لأَنَّا نُحَمْلِقُ في ساعة النصر:
لا لَيْلَ في ليلنا المتلألئ بالمدفعيَّة.
أَعداؤنا يسهرون وأَعداؤنا يُشْعِلون لنا النورَ
في حلكة الأَقبية.

هنا، بعد أَشعار أَيّوبَ لم ننتظر أَحداً…

إلي قارئ: ف لا تَثِقْ بالقصيدةِ ـ
بنتِ الغياب. فلا هي حَدْسٌ، ولا
هي فِكْرٌ، ولكنَّها حاسَّةُ الهاويةْ.

How do you mourn a poet?
You don’t. You mourn the world without him.

My only exposure to sex education during school was when in 6th grade a friend of mine had a Q&A booklet about the issue with her in class. We “sort of” enjoyed reading the booklet until our Islamic Religion teacher busted us and confiscated it, but did not inform the headmistress of our misconduct. Then in around 10th grade, we got acquainted with the very technical names of our reproductive organs, all drawn out in color in biology books. The teacher blushed during the two classes when she “sort of” explained some things to us like ovulation, menstruation, and how babies are made.

My point is this: none of the above “lessons” was memorable or useful in giving us, the mothers of the future, any sort of well-founded understanding of this pivotal aspect of our lives. The problem with that approach to sex education, being all biological because the culture does not permit further boldness, is that girls and boys will get their information elsewhere. Trust me, they will listen to anyone willing to talk about sex and they will get a really, REALLY demented version of it. I was in an all-girls public high school and I know what I am talking about. The things and stories girls told each other were unhealthy, untrue, and entirely grotesque.

On a relevant note, read this article about sex ed mostly in America.

The open-air event was well organized and I generally liked it, but I noticed the following things about the films themselves:

1- All three of them were set up in old Ammani neighborhoods, with a touch of romantic poverty.
2- All three of them featured lower-middle class to lower-class characters struggling either in love or family relations.
3- All three films’ scripts did not come across as convincing to me. There were Bedouin characters in one film where the setting was an Ammani neighborhood, and dialog in all three scripts was not true to life. For example, in two of the three movies there were “zo3ran” characters who really did not sound the part to me. I am guessing that because there is a significant class distance between the films’ staffs and the characters in these films that this was so. Plus, I know too much street language to be convinced with anything that distant from the real thing.
4- The stories, although set in lower-middle class neighborhoods and featuring fit characters, carried with them the controversies and concerns of their upper-middle and upper class makers. As such, there were some gaps in the stories which rendered them untrue to their settings.

Overall, however, I was impressed with the motivation these young film makers had and with the quality of their work. It’s so refreshing to feel that there is a cultural renaissance in the making here in Jordan, but for it to really be representative of us all as Jordanians and Arabs, it has to involve people from all classes and not just privileged upper class talents who can afford to realize their artistic visions.

The way Saadawi tells her life story is simple and almost child-like. Her language is clear and reminds me of my late aunt recounting family history, now using common English words كعب روكي and now slang for effect جوزي. The chronology of Saadawi’s tale is logical in the first volume, then it seems she took a break before continuing and so there is a mild break at the beginning of the second volume, but nothing confusing. I am done with the second volume and still have the third to go through, but so far I can safely say I have never in my life connected to an author as I connect to Saadawi. Her voice is powerful throughout the biography, too powerful to ignore.

She thinks my thoughts, she feels what I feel, but she is far more courageous than I have been up until now. She was prompted to write her biography after leaving Egypt to the United States in order to defy time and to defy death. She did not want her life to be forgotten or deformed by the same people who pushed her to leave Egypt out of fear for her life; Islamic scholars and Sheikhs threatened by her ideas about gender and religion شيوخ العصور الوسطى, and government officials equally threatened by her ideas about justice and integrity حكومة اللصوص. These two categories of people combined with the ignorant public الغوغاء who saw her mere presence a danger to their non-existent social cohesion wanted her to die, so she left to stay alive.

Far from idolizing her, this woman is a solid role model to every Arab girl out there. She’s educated, she’s strong, she’s unafraid to voice her opinions, and she thinks for herself. What more do we want our girls to turn out to be? Forget the people who call her a tramp منحلة أخلاقياً without knowing anything about her life and contributions to political and social life in Egypt, forget the people who call for Allah’s help against the devilأعوذ بالله من الشيطان الرجيم when they hear her name because she is a woman, forget all the hatred directed towards her because she personifies what Arab people fear: an intelligent, strong woman who gets some air time to “corrupt” their girls’ minds امرأة .فاسدة تدعو إلى الانحلال What every person must do is learn for themselves and form their own opinions, and I learned this the hard way. It pains me to admit I was prejudiced without even realizing it at the time.

As I said before, Saadawi’s biography resonates with me to a great degree. I recommend it to anyone interested in learning more about the life of Egyptian women and Arab women in general, and about Saadawi herself. I have a lot of respect for that woman now, and I am sure you will too after you learn about her life.

The Egyptian authorities have banned a 92-year-old man from marrying a 17-year-old girl, the Egyptian al-Akhbar newspaper has reported.

The ministry of justice invoked a law which says the age gap between spouses should not exceed 25 years.

Egypt brought in the law prohibiting the marriage of elderly men to very young girls during the Gulf oil boom.

It was an effort to prevent wealthy men from the Gulf states seeking young poor brides from the Egyptian countryside.

Not much is known about the 92-year-old man who tried to marry an Egyptian girl of 17 except that he is an Arab from the Gulf.

This is not exclusive to Egypt, of course. Young women all around the Arab world and in other countries as well are usually traded off like sacks of wheat in such transactions, particularly if they come from poor families. This is not to say that well-to-do families don’t practise similar trade, but they do it with more pomp: the dowry in proportion to the girl’s education or her father’s social standing, the extravagant wedding to signal status, the expensive gifts, and all the other ornateness a marriage entails. It all boils down to the same thing in the end: a commercial transaction similar to any other.

It’s a good thing that Egyptian authorities banned that 92-year old man’s marriage to that girl. Sadly though, this is one case in many, many others that don’t get reported and are not banned. The Egyptian law also has a loophole regarding this, and for all we know that 92-year old man can use it and marry the girl after all:

However, in special cases, the justice ministry does allow foreign men to marry Egyptian women more than 25 years their junior if they deposit a very large sum of money in the name of their wife at the Egyptian National Bank.

Needless to say, the objectification of women is thus made legal by the very law that intends to limit it. That’s like saying: Hey! If you have THAT much money (about $80,000) and you put it in an Egyptian bank and let us work it for you, then OK, you can have that girl. She’s probably worth a lot less, but it seems you really like them young and fresh and poor, you rich pedophile you! Go on now, take your young virgin bride to your high-walled mansion and do what you please to her. Who cares if you’re perverted? Her family can’t afford to care, and her country has been paid to keep mum. She’s all yours.

For Abdel-Qader Ali there is only one regret: that he did not kill his daughter at birth. ‘If I had realised then what she would become, I would have killed her the instant her mother delivered her,’ he said with no trace of remorse.

Two weeks after The Observer revealed the shocking story of Rand Abdel-Qader, 17, murdered because of her infatuation with a British soldier in Basra, southern Iraq, her father is defiant. Sitting in the front garden of his well-kept home in the city’s Al-Fursi district, he remains a free man, despite having stamped on, suffocated and then stabbed his student daughter to death.

Abdel-Qader, 46, a government employee, was initially arrested but released after two hours. Astonishingly, he said, police congratulated him on what he had done. ‘They are men and know what honour is,’ he said.

‘Death was the least she deserved,’ said Abdel-Qader. ‘I don’t regret it. I had the support of all my friends who are fathers, like me, and know what she did was unacceptable to any Muslim that honours his religion,’ he said.

He said his daughter’s ‘bad genes were passed on from her mother’. Rand’s mother, 41, remains in hiding after divorcing her husband in the immediate aftermath of the killing, living in fear of retribution from his family. She also still bears the scars of the severe beating he inflicted on her, breaking her arm in the process, when she told him she was going. ‘They cannot accept me leaving him. When I first left I went to a cousin’s home, but every day they were delivering notes to my door saying I was a prostitute and deserved the same death as Rand,’ she said.

‘She was killed by animals. Every night when go to bed I remember the face of Rand calling for help while her father and brothers ended her life,’ she said, tears streaming down her face.

- The Guardian:Read the full story here

Bad genes always seem to come from the mother’s side in this part of the world. A mother or a sister is automatically a partner in crime when a female family member is a suspect, she receives similar punishment and is condemned without question. Yet it is the men who rape and kill, the men who think they’re entitled not only to a woman’s body but also to her soul, the men who deny the right of life or grant the privilege of servitude in the name of tradition or religion. Doesn’t that make you wonder who really has the bad genes? By Allah!

My then-professor, now-friend, Maria, recommended Pillars of Salt with enthusiasm. I had never heard of Faqir previously, and quite frankly I never heard of her afterwards except from Maria herself who, only a few months ago, recommended yet another book by Faqir. She emphasized that this was a Jordanian writer who treated issues such as honor and gender inequality in this society. Her being a woman was an instant plus as well.

Two days ago, I finally found Faqir’s Pillars of Salt at Prime. I started reading the book tonight and I have not yet finished it, but I was so moved by its realism that I felt compelled to write about it here. I do not know how the story will develop, I do not know if I will enjoy it in the coming pages as I have so far, but I do not think that would alter my reception of it so far.

Pillars of Salt is not only a novel about Jordan, the Bedouin Jordan and the developing Amman, it is a historical account of the situation of Jordanian women, a situation that has remained static for the most part. It relates the story of two women, one Bedouin and the other an Ammani, during and after the British Mandate. In doing so, it reveals the injustices, the myths, and the hardships that clouded and decorated the Jordanian scene.

That above was a brief summary of the novel. My own impressions upon reading it are not different from my sentiments when I used to hear my late aunt recount stories of her childhood in Karak. The stories she told of her father, my grandfather, riding a horse with a jinnee, the stories of men hunting at dawn and sleeping in caves, the stories of women giving birth as they participated in harvest (my grandmother included). Pillars of Salt also relates, but in a more limited way, to my mother’s upbringing in Amman as a Circassian. My mother tells me stories of Cinema Philadelphia, of Syrians and Bedouins flooding the old markets in Amman, and of a girl losing her hair while looking through a drop of oil in a coffee cup to uncover the location of an ancient treasure with the help of jinn.

There seems to have been a common historical fabric that united this Jordan together, and women seem to have been a vital part in this union, albeit in a repressed way. Faqir’s novel taps into that but refrains from making judgment. It recounts the events and seems plot-less precisely because it is so smooth and revealing, and it leaves it to the reader to observe and judge. While reading the novel, I feel like Faqir is narrating my own familial history, which to me has always been the history of the women rather than the men.

To put it in a word, this novel is captivating. Perhaps it is because I can relate to it to a large degree that I feel this way about it, but I believe it will be appreciated equally by others. I do think, though, that people from other cultures would be more taken by the religious-mythical-romantic theme the book has rather than the actual events. It might seem to them that the constant religious remarks and mythical references in the book are tools of style used by the author, but the reality is that these occur in reality exactly like they do in the book. I could hear the characters speak in Arabic Jordanian, although the book is in English. That is a sign of a successful, honest portrayal of Jordan.

Read this book is you’re interested in learning more about Jordan and its mentality and culture. I strongly recommend it and thank Maria for bringing it to my attention. You can also check out Fadia Faqir’s website by clicking here. I do hope this post preaches Faqir to you, she is a truly brilliant writer, and it’s a shame that such Jordanian writers do not get the attention they deserve.

Tomorrow you may get a working woman, but you should marry her with these facts as well.

Here is a girl, who is as much educated as you are;
Who is earning almost as much as you do;

One, who has dreams and aspirations just as
you have because she is as human as you are;

One, who has never entered the kitchen in her life just like you or your Sister haven’t, as she was busy in studies and competing in a system that gives no special concession to girls for their culinary achievements;

One, who has lived and loved her parents & brothers & sisters, almost as much as you do for 20-25 years of her life;

One, who has bravely agreed to leave behind all that, her home, people who love her, to adopt your home, your family, your ways and even your family name;

One, who is somehow expected to be a master-chef from day #1, while you sleep oblivious to her predicament in her new circumstances, environment and that kitchen;

One, who is expected to make the tea, first thing in the morning and cook food at the end of the day, even if she is as tired as you are, maybe more, and yet never ever expected to complain; to be a servant, a cook, a mother, a wife, even if she doesn’t want to; and is learning just like you are as to what you want from her; and is clumsy and sloppy at times and knows that you won’t like it if she is too demanding, or if she learns faster than you;

One, who has her own set of friends, and that includes boys and even men at her workplace too, those, who she knows from school days and yet is willing to put all that on the back-burners to avoid your irrational jealousy, unnecessary competition and your inherent insecurities;

Yes, she can drink and dance just as well as you can, but won’t, simply
Because you won’t like it, even though you say otherwise

One, who can be late from work once in a while when deadlines, just like yours, are to be met;

One, who is doing her level best and wants to make this most important, relationship in her entire life a grand success, if you just help her some and trust her;

One, who just wants one thing from you, as you are the only one she knows in your entire house – your unstilted support, your sensitivities and most importantly – your understanding, or love, if you may call it.

But not many guys understand this……

Please appreciate “HER”

Amen, Rania. Read Rania Kudsi’s blog, it’s that good.

Sultan expressed herself her usual way, and many Muslims watching the show were infuriated by her lack of diplomacy and insulting Islam and its figures. Then people demanded an apology of the station, Al Jazeera, because they accused the station of supporting anti-Islamism. Al Jazeera apologized, and the right wing everywhere rejoiced because it found another reason to diss Muslims and Arabs.

My opinion is as follows:

Al Jazeera had it coming. It really, really had it coming. A show like The Opposite Direction in particular should have been stopped a long time ago. It does not encourage dialogue but cockfighting. Al Qasem sits extreme opposites on one table and fuels their disputes. He ignites them if they calm, and he encourages screaming and name-calling under the guise of conversation. This show has always been on my hate list, and now I hate it more.

Since The Opposite Direction has FINALLY crossed some public red line, the show is now under scrutiny. The ‘normal’ people who used to watch it and cheer Al Qasem on are now rebuking him and saying the show is really no good. Unfortunately, they are not doing that for the right reasons (show achieves nothing but grow resentment, stupid fighting, etc.) but they are doing it anyway. They are also projecting what one show did (which they loved in the past, remember) on an entire station that they statistically still very much love.

Saying that Al Jazeera supports anti-Islamism is an old-new conspiracy theory which until now stood ungrounded. The Opposite Direction episode with Sultan gave reason for more people to believe it. Their logic is skewed, but so was their taste in the first place to admire a show like that.

Sultan is not a very diplomatic speaker when asked about Islam. I personally do not like her way of handling issues, and I think she does have certain biases and is not entirely fair. On the other hand, Al Qasem already knew this about her as he had hosted her previously and her videos are all over the internet. I am glad that finally Al Qasem received a wake-up call, albeit for all the wrong reasons.

What makes me sad is not what Sultan said, or what Al Qasem did, or anything related to Al Jazeera. What makes me sad is how some Arab people easily distort facts and call others ‘anti-Islam’ as simple as that. What’s Al Jazeera to do if it was hosting a debate about the prophet cartoons? Host two Islamic clerics and that’s it? It’s a ‘debate’ so it should have two or more different opinions! Why is the station itself being called anti-Islam? Must it always conform to one boring line of reporting taking the side of the majority?

I think part of the reason why some people easily accuse others when they are not 100% pleased with their ideas lies in our education and in the pressures that Arabs live under these days. Our education, for the most part, does not offer the ‘counter argument’ and if it does, it purposefully marginalizes it in favor of the more popular. The pressures on Arabs and Muslims in this day and age make them hypersensitive to anything foreign, as is to be expected, much like what happened in the United Stated after 9/11.

I find it fascinating how in this part of the world, people can still unite (almost) for a cause and can protest and make demands. It is more fascinating to me how they project their current internal problems on external threats, which may or may not be relevant. The uproars caused by the prophet cartoons and now Wafa Sultan have far outreached those caused, if any, by governmental corruption, high prices, bad planning, gender inequality, and any other day-to-day obstacle to progress in Jordan and the region. It makes me wonder about our real priorities because the heights these actions and reactions have reached are truly ridiculous.

Meh. The world is such a disappointing place with plenty of grey. What a sad, sad place to be.