Focus

Today, is a trialing day. Why is it that sometimes you wake up full of the air of promise, ready to embark on your 12 hour journey in the world of possibilities and other days your irritable, pessimistic and put-out by the sheer fact that you have to wake up and slave away to the schedule you've imposed on yourself.

So, there I am, butt to butt in the narrow corridor of a 'South Western' train being yelled at by the other disgruntled commuters who like me didn't wake up on 'the right side of the bed'. I try to take my irritated mind out of my hostile environment and pick up my kindle and start to read. I get a seat which forces me to try to put the day in a different light so I sit staring out on to the world with my usual 'lets change my energy' incantation (this usually consists of a sharp word or two with myself about gratitude). My mood slowly starts to shift and I am no longer in need of my 'London mantra'. A man in a suit sneezes rather loudly and as usual no one raises an eyebrow or batters an eyelid, the 'cold' demeanor of the English is one I'm always trying to surpass so I offer my 'bless you' as a charity which results in a 'how dare you take note of me' look from the man in question until he buries his head back into his news paper.

Sigh, 'don't let it phase you' I tell myself holding strong to the up-lifted disposition I earlier trained for. Eventually, I arrive at my final destination, fall up the stairs ready to laugh off my embarrassment as i lay on all fours splayed against the cold concrete, only to realise that people are actually tutting as they clamber over me. I route-march the mile walk to university, arrive to my lecture on time only to be told that it has been cancelled. I receive my 'marked' paper for an essay from last term realising that my marker couldn't even be bothered to write more than a sentence for the explanation of my rather poor mark.

Here, I am in the university library writing this out so I can mentally throw all the bad bits away and get on with some work. Yes, throw away the bad stuff.... Is that possible? I wonder...

Aid EGYPT - the quest to help our heroes

As some of you that pass through my blog may know, I am a very proud and devout member and one of the managers to Draw a Smile. Draw a smile is now a registered charity raising thousands of pounds week by week by the invaluable effort of young people in the UK. It aims to do one thing only which is to Draw a Smile onto the faces of orphans worldwide. The majority of the group, self excluded are Egyptian which is why it made sense to start this astronomical task within a country they were familiar with. Draw A Smile now has a sister organisation called aidEGYPT which, of course was fuelled by the protests that started and ended this month.

Last Sunday I had the rare opportunity to attend a Draw A Smile/Aid Egypt function as a guest and experience the impact of the message myself and others strive so hard to deliver; that Together We Can!

The charity Dinner was held at Assaha restaurant renowned for its ambient interior and high standard food although none of the 100+ attendees that Sunday night noticed a bit of it. Along with a fantastic speech given by a young UK Egyptian male that decided to go over during the crisis and see what was going on for himself, was this video made by a fellow DAS member and friend.

It is my pleasure to share it with you all, whom ever may be watching and hope that it breeds the same level of consciousness into you that it did in me.

Allahu Akbar

Words to make you seem smart

I have never understood the real reason for writers/scholars etc to use such In-pronounceable, long-winded, phrasing/wording when such a simpler universal word always seems to exist within its shadow. I seem to find myself reducing paragraphs down to sentences that make far more sense from these convoluted texts;

con-vo-lut-ed

kon-vuh-loo-ted

-adjective

complicated, intricately involved.

My point entirely! why not just say complex? Sure, it could just be my lack in intellectualism and I would accept that if it wasn't for the fact that I KNOW I am not the only one to complain about this!

Yes I am ranting on and yes I love language! But come on, I have 10,000 words to write by the end of 2 months time (shouldn't really be using them all up on here either :/) do you know how much reading that is! Aye-Kerrumba!

So, I am going to build up a little vocab list hoping it will help to make words like convoluted hold the same value in my pea-brain as its counter part 'complicated'.

I guess the best way would be to start it on its own page so as not to disturb any light reading (which is often than not all my blog offers). And please don't judge if my ignorance becomes oh too evident on such a page :s

Friends

Through the years of life, you hear many proverbs and short tales of advise.

'You will be able to count your friends onto 1 hand'

I never really apreciated that saying to it's full, untill slowly, you realise that you no longer seem to be counted on the hands of those friends that may feature on yours.

BE WITH THE REVOLUTION!

hmmmmm

"If I debate with 70 schollors I'll beat them hands down, but if I debate with a fool, I'll loose' Sayeda Ayesha RAA says:
yeh but I should be treated more gently im not a boy

Leila says:
yeah
i know

"If I debate with 70 schollors I'll beat them hands down, but if I debate with a fool, I'll loose' Sayeda Ayesha RAA says:
every1 treats me like a boy

Leila says:
speak more soft

"If I debate with 70 schollors I'll beat them hands down, but if I debate with a fool, I'll loose' Sayeda Ayesha RAA says:
the next time im gonna act bare innocent and girlie and weak

Leila says:
loooooooooooool
i tried that one thpo
and thing is

"If I debate with 70 schollors I'll beat them hands down, but if I debate with a fool, I'll loose' Sayeda Ayesha RAA says:
and switch it up on their ass

Leila says:
is it works
for ages
till u screw

"If I debate with 70 schollors I'll beat them hands down, but if I debate with a fool, I'll loose' Sayeda Ayesha RAA says:
lol

Leila says:
lol

"If I debate with 70 schollors I'll beat them hands down, but if I debate with a fool, I'll loose' Sayeda Ayesha RAA says:
love it

One of my own, upon inspiration and situation.

Every day is a story,
it just depends on how you tell it.

Thoughts

My recent decision to shut down modes of communication seems to be misunderstood. I keep being told that running away is not going to solve any problems that 'they' presume I have.
that just makes me want to shut them out even more because they obviously don't understand me and I'm all out of patience for people that are'nt on the same page as me.
I know, it sounds incredibly selfish, my problem is that selfish doesn't come naturally and as a result I tend to let every1 walk all over me.

There used to be a day that I could make a vow to give everything of myself to someone knowing that it wouldn't go unrecognised, unapreciated or unreciprocated. Now I offer all and I get a shrug of shoulders or 'hmm'.

So, 'don't give anything' I hear you say, yea sounds simple doesn't it, although it's against my natural order, my grand design. I long to be someones crutch, someones everything, someones get out of jail free card, someones google, to just be someones.

I said that they brought out the worst in me;
'paranoia, selfishness, insecurity, un certainty, angst, addiction'

It will crown you as it will crucify you!

Dedicated to you the new in my life

There's this thing that comes with being a muslim that I used to love, The Umma (community) and how idealy they stick together and try to help each other out, but theres a stigma that comes with that side of things that I have only seen since I've been in Egypt.

Obligation;

Its how one is obligated by their religious duty or their feelings towards their religion to be attached to you or to owe you something. I'm sick of people liking me because I am a muslim, because I have knowledge, or because of the transition that was converting. What about the rest of me what about the me that I lived with for 20 years before I made the change. Not all of it neede dto be substituted by a better attitude, I had/have traits of my personality that still are as were before. However no one ever see's them no matter how much I portray them because they are over shadowed by the knowledge that I am a muslim.

Maybe it is my own fault, the visual aspect of my hijab and my white face and European features, the fact that most opening conversations I have with people are revoked due to this appearance. The concept of the Niqab, to conceal ones humility and keep ones honor is something that is abrogated of the contrast it gives in a western society. People look at you more, question you more, fear you and therefore are attracted to you more. Well I feel like not wearing a hijab would be my altimate Niqab. The same way that you should love someone for who they are and not the way that they look (physical beauty) which the concept of the Niqab offers is something I now long for.

To not be judged as a muslim, a convert, but to be judged, loved or hated because I am Jessi who is a muslim not the muslim who happens to be Jessi.

Don't tell me that you don't want to mess things up for me and that I might deviate from my path because of you.

I am Jessi!!!!! and always will be.

Sweet bitterness

I was told to pay my cleaner 50 geneer which would be a hefty price for top to toe of my whole apartment.

The samsar (estate agent type guy) introduced her and let us arrange a day and time amongst ourselves for the job.

I sat there on the bed in the dreary box of an apartment trying not to let my skin touch the dirty mattress as beat down all the walls with a dirty pillow cover removing the cobwebs and insects after which she threw water all over the floor.

This lasted allot longer than she should have as she spent most of her time babbling on the phone, she finally dragged alll the dirty watter through to the bathroom drain. It turns out I needed a Sebek (plumber), that was the word she kep repeating over and over again as she shoved her chubby arm down the hole in the floor to drag up what ever could be stuck down there.

She then started to put on her Abaya (long over dress) as I stared at the dirt incrusted door frame and window and the dingy stained kitchen. "I have work, call me after you get a Sebek!"

So I looked in my purse for a part of the money but for some reason gave her 40LE and told her she would get the rest when she returned, despite the all the advice of not letting her place a foot out the door untill she had finnished!

After a week the Sebek came and went and again we arranged a convenient time for her to show.

So I waited at the flat untill i recieved a phonecall that she would come if I paid for her taxi!, I should have seen the rest from there.

She arrived finally had paid for the 4LE taxi herself and climbed the stairs to the top floor of mz apartment, onlz she wasnt alone there was another exasperated boisterous Egyptian with her with a plump round kind face.

Again me and a freind's little sister (age 14, Egyptian) sat there and watched them talk on the fone and do a little cleaning inbetween each call.

There was no water... I don't have a motor so I only recieve water in the night and at noon, it was now the afternoon.

Lucky for me my next door neighbour does so I would disapeer every now and then to re-fill the bucket.

They kept trying to get dressed despite not having cleaned anything from what I could see and making exuses like Im too short and all the rest of it.

So after having to keep re-telling them to clean behind the pipes in the bathroom and the door frames and everything else they finally said they were finnished and made long winded exuses to everything else.

So I handed my cleaner 20LE, baring in mind that her fee had now gone up to 60LE.

Her face was priceless I explained everything to her but she just kept demanding money telling me that I should pay her 50LE for her last visit and 50LE for this visit. This was never going to happen! let alone the fact that I couldn't afford it. Then she orderd that I must pay her friend, to which I reminded her that I called her not her friend and that she works for me but her friend is working for her. She refused to move and sat herself on my bed with a face like a smacked monkey's butt (as my mum would say). So I continued to spray the cockroach and ant killer into every nook and cranny and stood by the very small open window as Hamsa (my friends little sister) stood at the door ( I later found out that this was because the cleaner had tried to close it and she suspected the worst from this action) as she choked and spluttered from the toxic fumes I had unleashed into my room of an apartment she reluctantly in the end left.

I sat reflecting over every detail of the tiring day and congratulated myself on keeping my cool through it all and keeping a low tone in her vulgar screams and shouts, and never once insulted her cheek.

Then I realisesd that the age old saying of 'God works in mysterious ways' may have been perfectly demonstrated in the days events. You see, I remembered feeling bad as they choked and spluttered as there lungs struggled to grasp enough air to shout insults at me as I was fumigating the place but I what I didn't realise was how me and Hamsa were fine. It turns out that the only two air ventelation points were being consumed by us both.

It may be wrong for me to feel satisfaction about this oint but It's more to do with the fact that I struggled to keep the right behaviour of a muslim and yet had I let myself go that was the kind of punishment I would have hoped for!

That moment!

Do you live your life worrying about every little thing that may occur in the future, the wrong that you have done in the past, the ever growing list of things to do or the fact that its 2am and you have to wake up at 7am for a long day's work in the morning?


I don't! I put them all in this little place where I forget them but its all still there and sometimes spills out on to my consciousness from time to time.

For instance, lets start with the worrying about the future thing..... I always make it a motto of mine not to directly think about the future, I'm not saying that it's a good motto but perhaps a lazy one for getting through life with a little less responsibility on my shoulders, but I have realised maybe what I have always known deep down is that it does worry me I just seem to have chosen not to think about it and now I'm stuck on that very thin line of being a child and an adult..... hanging on by a thread shall we say.

I have developed this massive fear of getting married (settling down) ever!!, I guess I just never understood how a woman as strong, intelligent, wise and true as my mum could make a mistake 2ce in that department in her life. And if she can do it then I feel bound to do it. I'm terrified of letting my (possible future) children go through any of what me and my brother experienced down to a tiny mistake that probably just started with a glance across a crowded bar. And when I was too caught up with crossing that line into adulthood to see the possible dangers in front of me I was reminded of exactly how true my foreseen prophesy was. I fell in love, we grew together and I found true trust for the first time in my life, I felt secure, stable and happy despite my adolescent behavior at times and it seems that I can only really see that now. But it happened, the thing that I had started to forget was possible, he let me down.......he shook our foundations until I had no where left to stand and everything I was so sure of was compromised. So I did what any other coward would do and ran for the hills.

And now I worry about the future and the past, I regret my actions but have to live with them, secretly (also) living in hope that I'm forgiven and that the impossible could happen and I could turn back time. but that doesn't change the fact that I let my guard down enough to get violently hurt. I fell in love with him because he was everything that the other wasn't. Kind, generous, honest, Innocent, loving, emotionally strong, a Muslim. And since that I have this fear that I squeeze way back into my tiny mind, but am influenced by it still!! no mater how hard I try to loose it, it always comes back.

For that very early morning on the beach in Sahel I found the eternal happiness of a spotless mind. I forgot about everything, really forgot everything just disappeared and it was all about the sky the sea and Allah's mercy on me for that moment. I laughed so hard that I cried and didn't really know what I was laughing at.

Ode to that moment in my life. May I never forget it, may there be many more of them, and may I always be greatful for them...

...Ameen

the typical 2.4 children

So I'm still living with the family.
Things are still much as the same, although, finding my clothes have been worn without being asked and my freshly cleaned hijabs now scrumpled in a pile on my bed (although a neat pile it may be) is starting to grate on me. But none of it is done out of spite, and I suppose its nice that they feel so comfortable with me to be like this, it's just I am a funny so and so and I like my own space.
You see I do have my own bed (to sleep in) but it isn't my bed and I'm reminded of this when I come home after a long days work and just want to pass out to find school uniform and used damp towels amongst other things on my (oops I mean)/ her bed.
That's the problem I am in debt to her and her sister. You see I don't have any privacy but that's down to me, they don't have any privacy either and this is down to there generosity and kindness and I feel so guilty every time I feel my temperature raise at the site of my favourite jeans being worn by her slightly chubby sister! and when my expensive broach isn't in my accessories bag but on her mums abaya lol, OK OK that's enough moaning just had to get it out of my system.
The truth is I am really going to miss them all when I leave, the dad that insists on knowing everything but is sooo generous that drives the mum crazy who looks to me for advice in almost everything that she does and the doting little sister that wants to make everyone happy and is so comfortable in her own skin for a 14 year old that I'm constantly impressed.
Never the less I just need my own space!

So, I have been looking for a place with a small budget but they won't let me take any of the cheap ones because they say that it's not safe blah blah, (btw there are no woman that live alone in Egypt! this is strictly limited to the few foreigners that live here, only then is it acceptable). When I do find a suitable priced apartment something happens where it doesn't work out. Mainly because you have to rely on people here. It's all about who you know, and I don't know anyone, so I have on rely on people that do and Egyptians are very lazy!!!!!
SO....
I look for a job with better pay that everyone insists I can get for speaking English only and being a British national in order to widen my choice of places. But how do you get jobs here!?!?!?!? like in England you have the job centre, the newspapers, the untold amount of Internet sites and agencies, here, I just don't know. Again its who you know, and again I don't know anyone. But even when I do get an interview it's just like before; it turns out that there was an error in communication and perfect Arabic as well as English is a must!
So it's 2 steps forward 3 steps back.
I need to work on reversing these numbers!! then least then I'd be getting somewhere. I know that I will at some point but its all a waiting game here. If you want to brush up on your patience come to Egypt!

.....Further updates

OK, so I asked my salary, well I wasn't that brave I suggested to his daughter whilst he (Abu Hassan) was on the phone that I needed to know so I could estimate my budget when looking for an apartment....

EEEEK

It's not good its below what the job is worth really especially as I'm working 9-6 6 days a week which is very rear in Egypt, VERY!

and it's not even enough to pay for the minimum rent that is I would be lucky to get......

So, what do I do. She asked me if it was OK with me but I just smiled and said yes, I mean what can I say, they are doing so much for me and there even bribing someone they know so that I can get a longer Visa without the early morning paper work! not to mention that they are paying for my arabic teacher 4 days a week, who I really like! he's 29 a very much into his deen, you now the one beared and disdasha, which intimidated me a little bit at first. Speaks no English but never lets me give up. And he's teaching me from the beginning ABC... but really thoroughly. And after a slow convo in Arabic I found out that he started practising Islam at 21, before that he was just any guy at uni. So how can I say no its not good for me but Im going to have to sooner or later, besides Il just continue to the end of the month so that I can somehow repay them for all there kindness and explain my predicament. Although I know that they will just suggest that I should move into Abu Hassan and his Wifes house as they are in Saudi every other 3 months (as they already have done) but I want my own place that I can paint and fill with dodgy seccond hand furniure that I grow to love...lol you get my point though.

We'll see how it go's

....So aparently before getting my hair cut I have to ask the hairdresser if they re generos with money or not!

If there answere is 'not' then my hair will not grow well after they have cut it!

in the words of an egyptian...

EH DA??

regret

I had a regret once, and the very person that helped me abolish it has now given me another to replace it with.
Once again I am reminded of that gut-renching feeling that lingerers in the background and plagues your mind like a mosquito in the dark.

The only possible consolation for this is that what ever mistake you made that led to a regret is that you can learn from your actions and move on......
....but not with this one I can see myself making this mistake again and again.

AND THAT IS MY CURSE!


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theres just no thrill of the chase here in London

Yea but...

They chase so hard here that they chase thier own tail,

they go round in circles so fast that end up biting there own a*se

wooooooooooooooohoooooo

Misr week 2 or three

WOW!
So much to say for such a little time.

I seemed to have really fallen on my feet here from the 1st day I arrived I met a gurdian Angel who has looked after me.
And allthough it seems as if you nver get something for nothing here sometimes just friendship is a fair price to pay.....If thats all it is!

So we had a heart to heart or a heart to mind, you know the one
"I like you, what do you think about that?"
"hmm well thanks, a bit strange as I've only known you for about a week, but yea im getting that egyptians are the hopeless romantic types. But I dont feel tjhe same way"
"yea I thought that"
and without giving the cliche 'its not you its me' line, (which had its relevance never the less) I mumbled through a head full of cliche's untill I summbled upon an epiphany or a 'self-actualisation' (private joke) .

Al-hamdulilah, we all have our gifts.
Allah blessed me with a srange one.
It IS a gift!
..because it protects me from being hurt,
but it is also a curse.

A curse because the block that has been put on my heart to stop me from being emotionally involved is also keeping me away from alot of nice brothers, brothers that are all perfectly good marriage material.
Allah knows best.
I can try and think of the wisdom of this that its keeping me from being interupted in a crucial point in my life.
But the truth of it is I really dont know why.
Even when I came close to being emotionally involved with someone or being able to see myself in the future with that person. I still got on that plane and came here.

I don't regret it beause it was what I had to do, but I do think about you all the time.

So here I am, two or three weeks into this trip and I have already found some clarity.

Kheir Inshallah
A curse in the fact

DAMN

I immerse myself in my 'work',
I put the radio on my phone and plug in the hands-free and blare the thoughts out of my head,
I try to ignore my erratic heart beat,
my fever all over my body,
I clench my fist, my toes.
I worry for anyone that crosses me at this moment,
I want to scream, in many ways!
It's so unnatural and yet so natural?,
my eyebrows are dented in the middle giving me a pleading look!
I need a release!
I gulp,
I sigh heavily,
I grit my teeth,
I laugh at myself.

It's still there,
for another day!

DAMN!

rolling stone....

I need to go away more often!
It seems to be the only time I can arrange a get-together!
it's like, just as my time's up here I actually somehow inherit a social life.
A social life of late nights and long days, last minute bbq's in public parks, Rap concerts, open mic sessions and films.
I'm exhausted, I'm all over the place, I am still wearing the same clothes from the night before.... it's all good!
I have to do this, I have to start making happy memories to over-ride the back-log of sad-ones that are up in here.
I'm young, I'm single, I'm generally quite free, and I'm not broke so there should never be anything stopping me!
that's my new attitude, sleep is for the old! rest is for the wicked, and I am neither so rock-on!
I love spontaneity I can't get enough of it I just wish it came with a magic wardrobe of clean clothes.
...So next week camping! we'll see if that happens but it's been a funny few months so anything could happen. I still can't believe that we actually succeeded in the £1.79 disposable bbq's idea!