I'll Be In Amman... Again

Last time I left Amman, almost two years back, I said I won't be coming any soon again. I left friends and family knowing I won't see them for a while. Driven mad because of the bad treatment I received at the airport, the offensive speech I heard, I don't even want to remember that day. But it kept haunting me during my visit. I wrote it minute by minute in my diary. Even though it was hard for me and it wasn't just my problem but a problem almost every single Iraqi went through, I decided not to post about it and not to make a international issue. Many bloggers had a say in that matter and my story is just one trifle one compared to the stories when Iraqis were asked to go back home, or had to spend the night in the airport.

I'm going to Amman for my sister's graduation and to meet friends I've missed for so long. I don't know when I'll be back but sooner or later I'll have to :D
I'm taking my papers with me to work on and some molds I have engrave for my ceramic.

That's all for now

Faces of Happiness

My mentor accompanied me to visit Sharjah Museum of Arts. Face of Asia was exhibited here in UAE and I was very happy to see such great art work. He saw it three years back in UK and payed 80 pounds. It is a photography exhibition about Asia. here's a description:
"Face of Asia concentrates on Steven McCurry’s extensive work from Asia, including image from India, Afghanistan, as well as recent work from Cambodia and Tibet. The exhibition will show 100 of his photographs, including his extensive text covering the story of the " Afghan Girl " as a young refugee and the women found seventeen years later."

I loved the photo very much. Looking at the face of the young Afghani girl and looking at her after 17 years was very awkward. She seemed very silent and disturbed with being a model, I thought. Her face after 17 years was wrinkled as if she was very old. It looked cleaner though. She is trying to tell something. Starring at her for minutes and looking at her, eye to eye, and still I get nothing but pain.

After a while I got used to her stare and was able to move my eye to other parts of the photo. Her shawl was torn from many sides, her face wasn't clean, yet she seemed strong to me as lioness, prepared to attack to defend herself or her cubs.

I liked many other photos but it's hard to fine one online other than The Afghani Girl and the Fishermen (which you can find it in the first link.

These simple faces, simple people, and simple lives seem happy to me more than any face of billionaires I've ever seen. They've been through a lot and own so very little, yet they had it all.

.............................

I'm very happy these days, but watching the news made me feel a bit guilty of that. Because of the pain and sadness in Iraq and other places on earth, under the sky. People are being deprived from living their lives by being deprived of the simplest basic needs.
I came across this page and wanted to share these happiness quotes with you. Let's spread happiness people by at least making use of other's experience. As for some lazy people, here are some quotes I liked but you really need to check the rest if you're in pursuit of happiness.


Man is fond of counting his troubles, but he does not count his joys. If he counted them up as he ought to, he would see that every lot has enough happiness provided for it. ~Fyodor Dostoevsky

The best way to cheer yourself up is to try to cheer somebody else up. ~Mark Twain

Happiness often sneaks in through a door you didn't know you left open. ~John Barrymore

Most of us believe in trying to make other people happy only if they can be happy in ways which we approve. ~Robert S. Lynd

People take different roads seeking fulfillment and happiness. Just because they're not on your road doesn't mean they've gotten lost. ~H. Jackson Browne


The foolish man seeks happiness in the distance; the wise grows it under his feet. ~James Openheim

Often people attempt to live their lives backwards; they try to have more things, or more money, in order to do more of what they want, so they will be happier. The way it actually works is the reverse. You must first be who you really are, then do what you need to do, in order to have what you want. ~Margaret Young

Happiness is not a state to arrive at, but a manner of traveling. ~Margaret Lee Runbeck

Even if happiness forgets you a little bit, never completely forget about it. ~Jacques Prévert

Those who can laugh without cause have either found the true meaning of happiness or have gone stark raving mad. ~Norm Papernick

For every minute you are angry, you lose sixty seconds of happiness. ~Author Unknown

The best way for a person to have happy thoughts is to count his blessings and not his cash. ~Author Unknown

You will never be happy if you continue to search for what happiness consists of. You will never live if you are looking for the meaning of life. ~Albert Camus


And with Sophocles's quote I'll leave you, wishing that Happiness may find its way to your hearts. oh and could someone remind people that Nizar Qabbani was wrong when he said:
"When a man has lost all sadness, he's a memory of a man"
or was it
"Man without sadness is a memory of a man"

When a man has lost all happiness, he's not alive. Call him a breathing corpse. ~Sophocles

That's all for now : )

Wisdom-free!!!!

So I had that naughty wisdom tooth extracted. Let me tell you how it went:

Woke up, took a shower, had a cheese sandwich, brushed my teeth. oh silly me not that part!!! ok ok stepped into the car, dad drove, reached the clinic, grandpa and I went in, stepped into the clinic... what not that part !!! oh, it's alright. My fault.

Dr. Ahmed received me with a smile, asked me if dad or jido are coming in for support. I answered no. My sister Sosa jumped into my mind. She was there for me during both operations 2005. but this time I don't need anyone. We had a chitchat about the situation in Iraq and how it's getting hard to get a visa to Jordan. We remembered the last time I visited him in his clinic in Baghdad.

Obviously he wanted to ease my mind with his talk because he's not a big chatter and he rarely talks when I pay him a visit. Last time I went which was about three months back I had a sore in my mouth which was killing me. A year back he changed three fillings. oh and those new ones are white ceramic and hard to be noticed.

Back to the subject. I've always liked the patient's chair at the dentists but this one is cooler than any chair ever. It even has a TV screen which makes you feel like sitting in a spaceship. To tell you how it went: Sat on the chair, it was lifted up, glided a bit to the back, I opened my mouth, Dr sprayed anesthesia spray, then came the needle (which I closed my eyes in order not to see, that's the only part that freaks me out, therefore, I don't want to see it so I won't have to feel it, a self denial thing). Dr Ahmed asked me to close my mouth a bit, did something and asked me to wash my mouth.

Straightened the chair, Dr Ahmed said something I couldn't get, was it "Done" or "that's all about it" I didn't get it because my eyes were stuck on that big tooth while still stunned and asked him "You took it out?!!! wow" He gave me instructions about how to deal with the post extraction treatment and food. Before I leave he explained to me how it went on a big poster hanging on the wall.

I can't wait to eat vanilla pudding : )

I'm sitting with a frozen broad beans bag on my cheek because the Mozzarella bag didn't last but few minutes, oh i mean because I forgot to put the icebag in the freezer : )

That's all for now

Some Unnecessary Wisdom

It was summer 2005, after graduation, when I had two operation to get my three wisdom teeth extracted. It was awful during and after the extraction. I'm not the kind of people who would complain about going to the dentist. It could be because I had the best dentist on earth ever. I'm not joking about that. But I go to the clinic, sit, open my mouth, forget completely why my mouth is widely open, close my mouth and leave. what a happy experience.

Dr Ahmed had a clinic in Harithiya area in Baghdad. We knew him since forever because his parents are my grandparents' neighborers. Since the 7th grade I haven't been to any other dentist. He had a big fish tank next to the patient chair where you can forget the entire world and enjoy looking at it. Even though I don't remember it was there after the war. Dr Ahmed's clinic was the last place I visited before leaving Baghdad. He left Baghdad after that and we met him briefly in Amman when he was trying to get visa to some other place on earth.

When I needed to get my wisdom teeth extracted 2005 he wasn't there. I had to go to my uncle's friend, a Jordanian dentist who studied in Germany. I'm not used to say bad things about people therefore I'm not going to write anything about that experience other than "the operation looked like putting your feet against the wall to pull the stuck door open". Do you get the picture?!

I had to stop eating about two weeks or more because the operation took two sessions, an entire week between them, and I had to reschedule and push the second session another three days. The bottom line I lived on yogurt drink, cold banana flavored milk, cold coco drink, and after a while I started to drink soups.

Destiny played its part and I came to UAE to find that Dr. Ahmed is settled down in Sharjah and his clinic is only ten minutes away from our place. and that's where I'm scheduled to have my fourth wisdom tooth extracted tomorrow morning 10 AM.

Wish me luck and send me recipes for fresh drinks that I can make use of during the coming week :)

I have this list:
1. Yogurt drink (ready and canned by Milco)
2. Avocado-lemon-yogurt drink (which I invented, oh and it's not sweet.. I add salt instead)
3. Carrot-orange juice
4. Coco drink

As for meals:
1. Broccoli soup
2. Cream caramel
3. Puddings
4. oh and definitely mashed potatoes at a later stage :D

Isn't odd to have four wisdom teeth when they say it rarely come out. I still have the other three in a small box that when I was trapped in heavy metal thought I would make accessories out of them. imagine tooth earing or necklace!

That's all for now

Happy Birthday Sosa-Lola

She’s this cute, childish, loveable, funny, spontaneous, smart girl, not because she’s my sister but because for some mysterious reasons, it’s helpless not to fall for her or not to like her. She Sosa lola, my youngest sister. No matter how old she gets, we see her as we’ve always knew her “noq6a” (a dot or a point)

I can go on and on talking about how we enjoy our times together but you’ll never get the picture. We invented games, invented words. We made practical jokes, we made fun of everything. .We wrote songs together and we wrote movies, but above all we had our own way to sing. It’s this silly kind of singing that makes anybody who listen to us drop down laughing. I would sing and she would add the beats and tempo in a very funny way, moving her hands as if she’s drumming. Oh how I miss her.

One of the games we invented was “khamsha mino yukhmosh awal?” don’t worry, you won’t find any of these words in a dictionary. Simply because they are made up. “khamsha” from “khashim” (=nose) and a driven fake verb “yukhmosh”, “mino” (=who), and awal (=first). So the game is “who would snatch other’s nose first?” We were in kindergarten when we invented the game. And the best place for us was our parents’ bed. We would lift our hands straight up vertically and say “khamsha mino yukhmosh awal?” And that’s when all the fun begins. Many times the game ended with a fight or at least one of us crying.

Sosa has a major crush for Tigger.Oh yes, of Disney’s Winnie the Pooh family. She made the entire family along with her friends fall in love with this creature. She considers him her pet. Unfortunately Tigger the Tigger and Tigger The Baseball Player are with me now and not with Sosa. She only has Tigger the Baby. Hopefully the entire family reunion will be the coming August. Pray for them :)

The “noq6a” is graduating this summer inshalla. She’s studying Finance and Banking. From the 9th grade, Sosa made up her mind and decided she doesn’t want to waste her time on chemistry and physics nor on geography and history. She wanted something she liked way much better: Business. She was the first one in the family who would say it firmly that if she won’t go to a commercial school she won’t study at all. Amazingly, she made this precedent decision and she graduated from her commercial high school as one of the top 10 students. That year, she spent it alone with my father in Baghdad. She refused to leave Baghdad even with the worst situation to live let alone to study, even after my eldest sister, my mother and I left Baghdad. Dad had to stay with her so she would be able to graduate.

To Sosa, the bravest tinny girl I’ve ever known, I want to say Happy Birthday. May all her wishes (the good ones ha ;) ) come true. May God bless you, guide you and lighten your way.

Meeting Rosy

I heard her name was Rosy. I’ve never met her before. I saw her from a distance walking gracefully without knowing it was her. When I approached her they told me that she was the one.

Rosy was a brunet, elegantly curved, with dark mysterious eyes. One glance from her I felt she could look down deep into my soul. She was silent for brief minutes and I was looking at her trying to be acquainted and start a relationship. I was intimidated as much as I was enthusiastic to ride the mare, Rosy.




The trainer told me to climb up and sit on the saddle. For a moment I looked at huge Rosy and prayed for God that everything will go on just fine. Once I was on the saddle, with my body straight up, the elegant horse-riding black cap on my head, it felt like home. According to the trainer’s instruction, I kicked Rosy and made the sound with my tongue, but Rosy stands still. The trainer laughed at me and told me to kick harder and I said “Poor Rosy”. A couple of times and my kicks were getting harder and Rosy obeyed the command.

Now I was few meters away from the trainer, and she said to me with a loud voice “control the horse as if you’re driving a car”. I smiled secretly and said to myself thankfully I drove for two weeks back in Baghdad during 2000. Rosy kept walking me rounds and rounds in the training arena. The trainer took the time to teach me the “up & down” exercise.

After a while I found myself talking to Rosy as if we were old friends. The trainer asked me from a distance if I wanted Rosy to run. Thinking of course I want, I nodded with my head for approval. She told me to shorten the bridle, kick again and whistle.

By doing that, it felt like magic. Rosy started to run and the morning breeze started to blow in my face. I felt I was standing like Jack and Rose on the forefront of the Titanic. By runny joyfully for several rounds, Rosy encouraged Blue (my uncle’s horse) to run as well. Unfortunately, my uncle has a problem with heights and animals, and just like me he wanted to face challenges, but he wasn’t ready to run yet.

Whenever there was a chance and Blue was afar for a good distance, I would command Rosy to run and enjoy it. By then Rosy and I were fiends as I believe and I was patting on her long horsy neck. But time flied by and the hour was over and I had to say goodbye to Rosy and the trainer and I promised that it wasn’t scary and I enjoyed it and will definitely come back again soon.

Changes

This lyric was stuck on my mind for a while now and I just need to get it out. I haven’t heard this song for ages now. I used to love it and I do miss listening to this song or anything by 3DD but just like I stopped Metallica for a while I stopped so many stuff right now.

I’m going through changes though :)

I won the third place for the competition that I participated in. I don’t remember I told any of you about it but it’s an art competition on the UAE plane. The subject should be inspired form UAE heritage or developmental aspects about the country.
The competition is carried on by Emirates University – university social club/ Al Ain Emirate. I’m not going to brag here. I leave that for my parents and friends :)




These days I’m busy with another UAE event but in Sharjah. I remember two years back I wrote something about going to the Heritage Festival in Sharjah, it’s the same festival. But this time I’m not a visitor. I’m one of the participants in the art competition. It’s feels like we’re in Paris drawing and painting in the street where people pass by and look at our work and take photos. I’ve never liked such things and never considered doing so, but with most of the colleagues I know from the institute and some other Special Needs institute/ most of them deaf and mute, it became a very interesting experience.

I’ve always wanted to learn sign language and I had cards for alphabets and some important signs. I wish I can understand it especially when I see the news with a quarter of the screen a guy using signs to commune the news. Sometimes I try to relate between the spoken and the signs and learn but other times I give up and mute the sound and say whatever comes to my mind when I see his signs. My family like it when I used to do so and my sisters used to laugh hysterically.

But last week I met a bunch of sweet girls and guys from age 12 to late twenties, and all were deaf. it's my first time to meet deaf perople.My colleagues and I had to pay really, I mean really really good attention to know what these folks are trying to tell us. It was the first time for me to feel reall ignorant. They taught us many signs including the days of the weeks. At certain times they had to write to us on their palms what they wanted to say when we couldn’t get what the sign stands for. As for their names they show the letters and after giving us hard times to get them they gave us a paper with their names. They made real fools out of us! We learnt which country each one was from and I spent most of the time with an Iraqi girl who left Iraq three years back. I was amazed by her intelligence. She even had some words or let me say signs about war, occupation and what’s going on these days. It helped a lot that they already know how to read lips.

It’s been hectic for a while now; with my thesis, topics to discard and resources to find. I missed my friend N who just came back from Baghdad after a month. And my friend R is busy with her work and flu. I feel exhausted. I was studying and I fell asleep. It was a weird nap from 1:30- 5:30 pm. I woke up in the same world and same room but it felt as if my dream, which I cannot remember, downloaded new programs and now it’s time for me to review these programs and reset my life with the ones I need to keep.

I believe that every now and then one should take a moment and look at life from an objective point of view. Review all the givens, set any deviation right and see new opportunities.
I’m in the process of trying to make sketches for my up coming exhibition for Ramadhan. I’m changing my style and acquiring new one, at the same time I’m considering Arabic Calligraphy.

That’s all for now

Oh and I haven’t slept since yesterday morning. I’ve been staying up for a while now and two days back my grandma came form Germany. I know I didn’t say much about that but I have to dedicate an entire blog not a post just to express my feelings or joy and respect for this great women. I love her :)

Oh oh and I broke my fasting for chocolate :D not eating much but a couple of small pieces a day. And I ate “pinky candy clouds” as I love to call cotton candy, two days in a raw :))

Dead-Mouse Morning

Almost stepped on a baby dead mouse, yes, not a good morning sign. But I survived the day and others did not.
The last time I heard “I hate to be the carrier of bad news” Tiswahin, my sister’s fish died. This time I heard the phrase but it was way much serious and the news came from Baghdad. The phrase was followed by “Poor Hiba…” my heart skipped a beat “…. Her husband died.”

Hiba, my mother’s second cousin, who got married less than a couple years back and recently, had a baby girl.

I asked how. “Yesterday, during Karada’s mishap, the missile fell on the house next door when he went out to turn off the water boiler. A shrapnel landed on his head and dropped him dead instantly”

I was in a shock for a moment. I’ve never met him but I knew her since we were kids. I tried to process the bad news but I couldn’t. My parents were taking a nap and I thought I heard my dad’s voice and went in to their room and couldn’t keep my mouth shut. My mother was almost asleep and she woke up on the horrible news. I could process that it was not a bright idea to tell her while she was asleep and still couldn’t feel anything.

I went to my room, tried to go back to my book but I couldn’t. it hit me so hard that I started crying, not for the man deceased man I never met, nor for poor Hiba, but for the poor baby girl who will be raised without a father. No matter how much she will be loved, no matter how better the situation will get in Iraq, which I doubt for the current time, this girl will be raised without a dad.

Not only this girl but an entire generation will be raised without a father, mother or someone close to the family, and will carry the emotional scars with them all the time wherever they go.

Do We Feel Good?!

Something I had in mind for a while now
“It’s a new dawn
It’s a new day
It’s a new life
But still Iraqis are not feeling good”

This fact is tearing me apart. It is so hard for me to digest that we approached the fifth year of the invasion and still we suffer. Not from a tyrant but from a set of idiot people who believe themselves to be something. They lie, they steal the fortune of the country, steal people’s hope and they divide them into sectors and give them segments and treat them accordingly and pretend to be serving Iraq.

People think that the invasion is hurting Iraqis inside Iraq only and it’s only the matter of the residency that bothers Iraqis abroad. Today, I don’t want to underestimate the hard times Iraqis are facing and going through every day and every minute inside Iraq, nor do I want to highlight the hardship Iraqis undergo in foreign countries. All I want to talk about and all I’m concerned about is the next generation upraised abroad.

It could be just a byproduct that results from wars and refugee-life or it could be a part of the big plan, which doesn’t matter anymore because it is happening anyways.

The symptoms of the disease I am talking about are the loss of the identity of the next generation, the loss of the original dialect, the loss of longing to go a place called homeland or even worse by considering the foreign countries as their home.

I don’t want to include those who change their passports for necessity nor those who prefer to be someone else. We can see Frenchmen living in Britain or Asian living in the States. What hurts me the most is to see Iraqi children speaking other dialects and sometimes other languages and that is what I want to talk about. In UAE, I saw kids who speak no Arabic at all. When I ask the parent why it is so they say we want our kids to speak good English.

Those kids are sent to KGs and schools that use English as a first language and in best cases they take Arabic as a foreign language class. Those kids are mingling with other foreigner kids and communicate in English. The parents are obviously busy with their jobs and spend so little time with their children. The housekeeper is someone probably from some Far East country who speaks either broken English or broken Arabic.

Yesterday, I met two kids, a girl and a boy. Both of them were my teachers’ kids. The seven-year boy speaks a sweat Iraqi dialect; even though he occasionally uses a funny word either in UAE dialect because of the school he’s attending, or Egyptian because of the dubbing of cartoons in Arab world. On the other hand, the six-year girl speaks only English. At the beginning, I thought she was shy when I asked her about her name and she didn’t reply. After a while, I asked her again and the dad told me to ask her in English. I thought he wanted to brag about his daughter speaking English. And when I did, she didn’t reply again but this time he said to her “go ahead, reply” and she said Miriam. When I switched to Arabic she smiled and remained silent. He spoke with her in English and told me to ask her again. Then he said that she speaks only English and very little Arabic.

I asked him why it is so that she speaks English and he said that her mother wanted so. She thinks that she and her husband suffered a lot and lost so many chances for the lack of good English and she didn’t want that for her kids.

The same story I saw almost a year back but I thought it was rare. The mother works two shifts and the father is still in Baghdad. The daughter is being raised on the hand of governesses in KG and the mother insists that the grandparents should speak English with the grand daughter, even thought they speak broken English.

The language we use is a means of communication but most importantly it reflects the linguistic competence in our brains. That’s why it reflects our identity.

Those parents sure want the best for their children but the fact is at such ages the can teach them up to five languages, the more the better, which would be real of good benefits to the kids once they are older. By losing the language, the mother tongue, entire generation is being wiped off from the future of the country.

Statistics speaks of casualties and they still don’t seem to settle for a number, even thought the supposedly respected Iraqi government keeps underestimating the real number, but what makes me wonder the most is the fact that does it really matters if they were 1200 000 or 600 000 as long as the number keeps getting bigger and the number we’re talking about represent deceased human being who had families and behind each family nowadays there’s a sad stories that they would carry over generations and would hurt the future of Iraqis and how those families would perceive whoever behind those crimes.

16 going on 25

Each and every birthday I had since high school I would count the years and make sure how old I was and still couldn’t believe it. Each year comes and adds age as well as experience to me but I never felt my real age. I was always 16 in thinking, behaving, and acting and even in whatever I plan.

As today marks my 25th year on the earth, under the; I figured it out. I am no longer 16. I will always keep that girl inside of me. She will be alive. But this year I decided to live my age, at the same time I would always carry the joy, the openness, the friendly attitude and whatever sweet Attawie had from her sweet 16.
I learnt that life is not easy and sometime we struggle to get what we want and even though sometimes we get carried away by emotions and make so many wrong decisions. But life has given us at the same time the privilege to decide not to look at the empty half of the glass. We have so many roads that we can choose from. We choose if we want to be stuck at the same moment for years and we choose to move on and make use of our mistakes.

Life is like a map with so many roads with many crossovers; each road takes you to specific destination but at the same time crossovers offer you to remain in the same road or switch to another. At times crossroads confuse you even with the best maps you cannot avoid them. Other times you bump into holdbacks that toss you and shake your ground but holding on is the only way to keep you going.
Fog might haze your horizon and baffle your eyes. You run into people in certain circumstances and you think you found the right way to reach your destination. It might takes you a long while before you find out your hanging out with the people who make you deviate form the right road but it’s never too late and you can always take the U-turn.

Today I’m 25 and enjoying it. I have so many destinations I want to reach. From what I’ve reached so far I met many friends who played a big role in helping me become who I am today.

This journey is getting better and better even though there were tears and pain, yet the best is to come, insha Allah.
And from now own deep inside I will be singing just like my favorite singer, Bryan Adams,

“I’m gonna be 18 ‘till I die”
At least not 16
Because a friend of mine told me that numbers are only relative matter :D

So, I believe not only me but even my friends have been waiting for so long for this post... even though it's just an update but it's a promising one.

I bought my Nokia 5310 yesterday
I got my ADSL this morning
I'm going to the Jazz Fst. tonight

All my pending photo post will be posted soon, insha Allah

That's all for now
Should've done some editing to the pic. but no time :D

Those Were Our Days

It has been so long since I attended a symphony orchestra concert. I’m not sure if it was late 2004 or early 2005 in Amman by the Jordanian symphony orchestra, which was Noor al Hussain Institute orchestra. Yesterday we were invited to a concert by the Emirates Youth Symphony orchestra at the Cultural & Scientific Association Auditorium (CSAA). At the same place, Dubai International Exhibition of the Arabic Calligraphy Art was held (21-30 February 2008/ the 5th session). My mentor recommended me to see the exhibition so I seized the opportunity and went with my dad and his friend, a well know Iraqi art critic.

The exhibition was great. Calligraphers from the Arab and Islam world were there but what made me proud, there was a showroom only for Iraqi calligraphy artists. There were so many exquisite works. I’m looking at the catalogue to mention a couple of names but it’s too hard, there’re many worth mentioning. But I have to say I saw a remarkable, modern red work by Mohammed alNoori, my mentor’s friend. It is simple but very catchy.

Another great Iraqi calligrapher is Wissam Shawkat who designed the calligraphy (mashq) in the “Jali Thuluth Atyle” on the front of the (CSAA) and he did a great job on that. I was surprised to know he’s only in his early 30s.
After the the Calligraphy exhibition we went to the concert hall. It was still early, therefore, we went to see Jana Kudsiova’s exhibition at the same building. She’s an artist from the Czech Republic, who moved to UAE in 1986 and is involved in many charitable activities. And currently she’s the Art Coordinator of Emirates Youth Symphony orchestra and the organiser of the Art exhibition. She’s created beautiful art pieces with wooden, back body of violins, on canvas.

When I saw the children with kind of UAE traditional uniform, the joy on their faces and their tiny violins in their hands, they reminded me of myself when I was their age. The first singing participation, I was only 3nd grad student. And my first orchestra participation I was 5th grader. It was only early 1990s and the country was going under dire circumstances but yet we were able to held concerts and do our best but more important we were able to enjoy it.

They played many Pieces but I enjoyed some better because I played those pieces when I was a member of Music and Ballet Symphony orchestra. They are: Radetzky March by J. Strauss, Hungarian Dance No 5 by J. Brahms, Sabres Dance by A. Khachaturian. While they were playing my fingers in my left hand kept dancing the tune and my right hand was moving the bow. I had tears in my eyes, missing those days when it was easy to enjoy music. Now the school, Music and Ballet, in Baghdad is suffering not only the lack of students and teachers but also the savagery of extremists who threatened both teachers and students. Many times the school was attacked in the name of Islam and that it represents evil by music and ballet. They burnt parts of it and destroyed the instruments’ store. I’m not sure what’s going on right now but I don’t believe its situation got better.

Many artists, musicians and ballet dancers graduated from this school, which was founded 1968. Most of the students are now playing and teaching music all over the world, to name a few:
Mohammed Othman: Pianist, composer, the conductor of the Jordanian Symphony orchestra
Abdullah Hassan: Violinist, composer who won many awards
Sultan al Khatib: Pianist & the Director of Research and Development at EVCTV
Kareem Kan’an Wasfi: Cellist

Let’s hope that we’ll witness the day when the school will be vibrant again and to provide Iraq with excellent artists and spread the joy by the sound of the music and bringing back the nights when we enjoyed the Nutcracker and the swan lake ballet.

..................................
PS: I wrote this post three days back but I didn’t post it. My colleague's father died and I just didn’t feel to post this. She is our youngest colleague at the institute, only 14 years old. They buried him in Sulaimania/ Iraq and came two days ago.May he rest in peace.

Paralyzed ... by a song :D

So, where have we been? Nowhere. It’s just the same old same old. This week is my last in the institute of Arts; I have to carry on with my study and finish my MBA. I’m practicing on the wheel for the time being and once I master it I’ll start to design my own potteries.

My grandpa left to Jordan but I’m staying in my small new room. It’s very cozy and closy (winking at my sister who used to mix the latter word with the former). But you know what it is really “closy” because I don’t have to walk through the room to get stuff from the bedside or the closet. I just sit on my chair and wander here and here (no there in the small room).

It’s Valentines again. I was wearing pink today but wasn’t celebrating. Just a coincident. But it reminded me of my teen time. At high school, my friends and I wearing our uniforms, we would wear red socks, red hairpins, and red scarf around our necks and we would hang small red ribbons on our jackets like badges. Exchanging cards and white stuffed bears carrying red hears with tons of I love yous and singing during the breaks some love songs. I guess Valentive form me then was just having fun and hanging out with my gang. Since I finished my high school I never took Valentine seriously. Doing my MBA, today I’m certain that these events serve only marketing strategies.

This year’s valentine’s song for me is “Paralyzed - by Finger Eleven”. Such a rocky song!!! It just makes me want to jump. I haven’t heard such a song for a while now, I guess since KT Tunstall’s “Hold on” and "Good Charlotte - I Don't Wanna Be In Love ”. Lately, I mean the three past days, I’ve been addicted to this song. I keep my radio on most of the times just waiting for it. They play it at least three times a day. I heard it during the morning show, the request lunch show (which is a request line mid-day show), and post-midnight rock. Actually I’m waiting for it right now.

My dad’s birthday was on the 7th this month. I baked him a cake which was too sweet but he likes it that way. I remember last year we had dinner at the “freedom to pay” restaurant, with our friends. This year we didn’t do anything special. The day next was my eldest sister’s birthday. We called her and I enjoyed chatting with her. That day I realized that one more month and I’ll be 25 years old. It seemed yesterday when I was posting about my 23rd birthday. I was almost shocked then to know I was turning 23 and I haven’t felt that I was a grown up.

I’m rambling about many stuff in here and I don’t think I have more to say for. That’s it for now and let’s call it a post.
OMG, the song is on. I'm gone *jumping*

My Exhibition: A Salute to Jawad Salim

After wandering and roving among my talents and hobbies, after searching for the right means to express myself and thoughts, I finally found myself accomplishing one of the biggest dreams of mine. It actually happened and I received the recognition I was looking for as an artist during the opening evening of my exhibition.

It started by accidentally executing two of Jawad Salim’s paintings on ceramic relief and the idea struck me “I can make an entire collection by recreating Jawad’s work with a different material”. With the encouragement of my mentor Wissam Al Hadad, I was able to complete more than 30 art works. Some of them were copying Jawad’s work but in different sizes and colours, others were compositions of the symbols he used and was known for, and also the recreating the Freedom Monument miniature.

There it was, ready and set, hanging on the walls of the gallery with spotlights on them, my works sparkled with glaze others with mat colours (as Jawad used to like his colours), and the bronze glaze for the Freedom Monument miniature. Old and current students of the Institute were the first to attend, then came the teachers and all of them were amazed by my work. Most of them had witnessed the early process of executing but they didn’t have the chance to see the finishing part due to the weather condition in UAE.

People started to come in on the sound of the Iraqi artist Kadhum Al Sahir’s limited edition only classical poem songs. The first guests were Sa’di Al Hadithi, Mohammed Al Jaza’ri (the best Iraqi art critic) Qassim Mohammed and his wife, Mahmood Abu al Abbas, Riyad Al Dabbagh (former dean of Mustansiriya University), an Egyptian sculptor, many Iraqi, Syrian and Arab artists and other people, later family members and friends started to arrive. Then a newspaper reporter asked for an interview and it was a bit crowded so we went in to the administration office with my teacher and the director of the Institute. After recording I went out for the opening as Mr Hisham al Madhloom arrived, it was even much more crowded. Two other newspaper reporters arrived and it was the time for the opening.

With the head of Art Directory, institute director, important guests and artists around me, and the photographer heading us, I started clarifying each piece and stories related to creating them. I don’t remember how long it took but all I could remember was me explaining and most of them nodding and others showing positive expressions on their faces. I saw the face of my mentor encouraging me and almost mouthing the same words I was saying. I felt I was glowing and everything was dark except me and my work.

After finishing the round I noticed my friends who were there from the MBA and the institute and other family members and relatives. Explaining here and their and taking photos, time flied by. The hours were passing by and I asked one of the teachers how long usually such events last. He said that an hour earlier but as long as people are still coming in and enjoying the exhibition we’ll stay until the last guest leaves. And we did. The last two guests to leave were two Syrian men. One of them was an architect and the other was a painter. They took two rounds and I joined them for the third. They asked about the materials and the kind of glaze and some other questions related to the compositions. They were very interested.

My parents were busy receiving the guests and giving directions on the phone with friends on how to get to the gallery. They were surprised because I didn’t show them the work earlier. They came as guests to see my work. I felt how proud of me and how they were happy for me.

I collected the flower bouquets I received as I was leaving and the janitor closed the door behind me. The place had never witnessed such important people or such number. The exhibition was the first personal ceramic exhibition in the history of the institute since it was established 1997. Everybody kept praising me and my creativity and I was blushing most of the times. It was a great start for me and I have to maintain such level and think of the next step.

P.S. Sharqiya (Iraqi tv) and Sharja TV came yesterday and filmed the exhibition and recorded interviews with me and my mentor and some of the guests and teachers.

Attawie from Sharjah al '3ariqa

So, some news updates! UAE has been praying for God to have rain since December 2007, Thursday was first day in Hijri calendar, Bush decided to come to UAE, what else, nothing except Attawie’s first personal exhibition is on the 16th.

With that Thursday off which makes it a three-day weekend, and Bush’s visit to Dubai which made Dubai give a day off, and the praying for rain has finally paid off, attawie’s invitation prints were delayed for a couple of days. It’s ok, no need to panic. Everyone has been informed by phone, e-mail or face to face conversation and by WOM (word of mouth). Still 300 card of invitation need to be distributed. Relatives and friends and some colleagues received their invitation. With a super ride with dad, attawie was able to spread the invitations in Ajman, the university, and Sharjah Lady Club. As for Dubai, it was so hectic and I couldn’t reach there because of the rain, only phone calls and emails were made.
Some people were able to reach my home and get the invitation themselves and they would help to distribute them.

As for the posters it was the institute’s and the department of art job. I only took some to place in the university, the lady club and our building. But it’s raining. They will be indoors ads.

I went to the institute today to hand the works on the walls. I know it’s late and the exhibition is tomorrow but yesterday I went and the administration hasn’t decided whether to put it in the first floor or the second. The second is better because the place is nicer. As for the first floor, there are some new huge machines which are impossible to move, are sitting in the middle of the hall. I’ll post photos to explain later. But I really don’t mind. I don’t want anything to bother me.

The woman in the administration, who was supposed to do the phone call invitations didn’t do her job, and with all the rain she couldn’t make it to the institute. I end up calling people to invite them. And since I’m very well known in the institute, didn’t just take the message, no no, they wanted to chitchat. I hardly made 7 phone calls and land line died as a result from the rain.

oh, and I heard that there will be two tv channels to cover the exhibition. Sharjah tv must be one of them and i'm worndering who's the second.

I hated Bush for coming and I hated the day off, and I really don’t give a damn about his visit or what he came to say. All that he says is just empty words within empty promises.

The rain is pouring down since yesterday and the streets are blocked. There’s no Sharjah anymore, there’s only Sharjah al ‘3ariqa (sinking sharjah)

I just wanted to clear my mind before the exhibition and write something in here and ask you all to pray for me and wish me luck.

Happy New Hijri Year

Tonight is the Hijri New Year’s Eve. I have to write this post because it was on my mind for more than a while now.
This date is very dear to my heart. I’ve never really understood it till 1998, when my religion teacher told us that this day is a date to celebrate just like 1\1. She told us to light a candle on a cake and to pray for a happy new year for all of our loved ones and for the Islamic World.

That same day I went with my mother to her friend’s home. The women had three sons, the same age like me and my sisters, and we had good friendship for about a year until we developed different interest, or I guess grew up.

The guy my age, H, was the geek one but at the same time he was the one who took care of his mother, the house, the dog and the car. He was funny, caring and religious. He was Metallica’s biggest fan I’ve ever seen. At that time he was starting to learn guitar. I’ve heard about this band but I wasn’t such a big fan. But later Mettalica was the icon that I measure every band with.

At summer, when there was no electricity, we would sit on the cold ground. H plays guitar and we sing. When we’re not singing we’re sitting in the living room listening to Metallica. Sometimes we would play some games on the pc or with the youngest brother video games.

When my mother took me that day to visit them, we were chatting in the kitchen. H held a lighter in his hand and started to put his finger on the small flame, back and forth. He asked me if I’ve tried this before and I, who was afraid of fire, bragged and said yes. He handed me the lighter and I lit up the lighter with one hand and made my finger swing on the flame with the other. While I was doing so, I didn’t feel any fire but the metal edge was getting warmer and warmer. He started by saying:

“It’s amazing how this small flame have this cruel burning fire. It always makes me wonder how hell looks like.”
At that age, I’ve never really thought of Hell neither of Heaven. I knew the concept and I knew how our religion describe them, but I’ve never meditate on them. My mind escaped the moment and I don’t recall how exactly the conversation went on but I had nothing to answer but slight nods.

“Washing dishes” he continued “made me think of hell a lot. Once I used the hot water along and it burned my skin for a while and that what made me think seriously of hell. If boiling water had this effect then what about Hell?”

On that day, when I went home I started prying and I haven’t stopped praying daily since then. That year I also started reciting Qura’an during Ramadhan.

I’m no longer in touch with H, our mothers still and they exchange e-mails, phone calls and SMSs. The other day I was replying on behalf of my mother and the women told me H was doing his master degree.

Since then H has became sort of a spiritual friend of mine. Even though we’re not in touch each year on this day I include him in my prayers because he was the one who encouraged me to be a better Muslim and eventually a better person without even knowing it. Without telling me what to do or what not to do, he didn’t even ask me to pray. I wish Muslims can be like that without forcing anyone to believe in Islam but by being the good Muslim to be a good role model. I believe H made himself an example I could follow. I can sing, I can be funny, friendly, geek, smart, Metallica fan, and a good Muslim.


Happy New Hijri Year Everyone
May God bless you all

I heard form a mutual friend that H was the best guitarist in Iraq and that he’s writing his own music and he gave me two tracks composed and performed by H

Good bye 2007 welcome 2008

This is the traditional phrase “good bye 2007, welcome 2008” and happy New Year everyone. Another year has passed; a new one is still coming up. People have always waited for the new year to make their decisions “I’ll quit smoking, I’ll lose weight, I’ll be a better person…” and just like that goes on the promises that people make for themselves and their families and their significant others. Yet most of these promises are merely smoked in the air, just like the promises Iraqis have been promised since 2003. (No politics for today)


Reading last year’s post for the New Year, with a simple post I discovered something complicated about me. It seems it’s the sense of achievement that I was looking for and the thing that led to not knowing “Who I am? What do I want?” the simple questions which require meditation and a journey to answer.


According to that founding I decided to make my 2007 the year of "First time to do…" & "Achievements”. Today I looked at the list, with a pen in my hand to check the list. I found there was not much to mark other than riding a horse.

It felt so disappointing but I decided to check my posts to see the stuff I done for the first time during 2007

So the ear thing was one weird thing to exercise. The maximum four courses I registered two semesters back were a big challenge for me. And the first time I go out and lock myself out which maid me spend some hours in the doorway looking at photos from my wallet, realizing all those beloved ones are in different countries.


This was the weirdest New Year’s Eve I’ve ever spent in my life. Last year I was in Amman’s streets with my two sisters and brother-in-law. This year was with my parents, grandpa, my uncle’s family and Hana (a second cousin to my second cousin, whom I would consider a close friend rather than a relative). We had no plans and went no where. We were all busy that we forgot about dinner which is why I ended up in kitchen preparing something to eat.


Hana and I had Pepsi. It wasn’t yummy but we had nothing to drink other than the flavored milk, which she had before Pepsi. We ate to ears of boiled corns. Saw an episode of F.R.I.E.N.D.S, on a DVD, the one with the baby shower, season 8

At 00:00 Hana and I left my room to say happy New Year, we put the TV on Arabia news and there was fireworks in Dubai and that the Emirate is insisting on making a record of fireworks. We all congratulated each others. Then Hana, my uncle’s wife and I went downstairs to buy bread for tomorrow. Though we live next to Dubai, we couldn’t see anything regarding fireworks. Hana’s parents came to pick her up around 12:30.


Stuff I like about 2007
• Still praying and reciting Qura’an
• Finishing the first year of the MBA
• Meeting my three little cousins for the third time
• Riding a horse (crossing from the list)
• Making two friendship with N and R
• I spent the entire year preparing for my ceramic exhibition and fixing it’s date for January 16th 2008 ( it could be one of the best achievements)
• Learnt how to use the airbrush in glazing ceramics
• Visiting the entire emirates of the UAE, and other important places here and there.
• Going to a relative wedding and dance till 2 am (other than my sister’s wedding we never had such a wedding in the family since 1999)
• My reading list is so huge but it’s mostly related to the MBA
• Meeting Z, a friend of mine who came to UAE from Baghdad and flied to the States, after spending three years of no news from both sides.
• Ate jumbo shrimps
• Tried some Chinese food like sushi
• Preparing New years’ eve’s feast (two dishes of beef burgers, tomatoes, potatoes, onion, pinches of spices and olive oil plus two different types of side dishes: avocado’s dip and some other bean and humus.

I hope next year there will be more to write about.
Happy new year everyone,
Happy New Year Iraq and Iraqis,
May God bles

No Kidding!

Anyone feeling down? No one? How about stupid? The joke of the season just happened. I went to my terminal exam, the class was empty. I checked the time table for exam and the exam was on Dec 17th ??? it was a shock for me. My group and I we had this conversation about no need to have the exam too late. And that we finished the portion and we are all ready to take the exam. We confirmed everything with the prof. and it was taken care of everything. What happened? No idea. Why I didn’t receive any msg or e-mail about the reschedule? No idea.

I was so ready for the exam that I just want to finish and have a nice early Eid and Christmas break. Anyways, at least I got the chance to post something.

Another thing, I broke one of my finest ceramic works today by mistake. Everyone told me it was “an eye” (someone envied me). I didn’t feel so bad for the first time, not because I didn’t care but because I remembered one of my mentor’s words “Don’t say this work is done unless you put it for exhibition”.

December is here and the year is saying goodbye. I want to check my list for this year and how far I accomplished. I don’t see much done other than finishing one year of my study (the on-campus part). So many firsts but I didn’t go under the sea nor jumped with a parachute.

That’s it for now. Will write you later.

Hello...again

Well… well, I know I’ve been busy and lazy to post. Many things happened these passing days from important reports on the news to the insignificant chitchats here and there. Between my MBA and the institute of Art, between inventing time to submit assignments and seeking time to find serenity to start new paintings, between house chores and social activities, the bottom line you’re looking for is “Attawie is confused”. I have so many dreams and so many plans to fulfill and I need to get them into implementation phase. When and how is the real matter.

New room
My grandfather is staying with us. He spent the last year in Jordan without residency. Still we’re not sure about how long he will stay here. But the reason why I mentioned it is that I gave him my room and move to the smaller one. I had a week planning to manage the “move out” and spend only few hours to move.

After I said goodbye to my old room and bathroom I had to make my new room familiar. I had to get used to the idea of the smaller space and how to deal with it.

I moved everything but I left the bedside and painting tools. My grandpa paints too.
My mother gave the couch and the chair for charity. She promised to give it away but it was months before my grandpa’s plan to come.

Lately, I’m not painting much. I’m only preparing for my first personal ceramic exhibition. I still have ideas to execute and so much work to do the finishing touches. I finished 21 pieces so far. And I need at least 20. but the idea won’t be complete unless I finish at least another 5 pieces.

I attended a presentation by the artist Douglas Grenville and a workshop at the evening. I learned his technique and it seems easy to apply. But he uses acrylic colours only. I use oils and sometimes watercoloures.

MBA news
On the same day that I attended the presentation and the workshop at the art institute I had to run to the University yet for another workshop. It was a JPP (Joint Project Planning) workshop for PM course (Project Management). I was assigned as a delegate and I was in charge of the COS (conditions of satisfaction) and POS (Project overview Statement). Not that hard job but I had to write every single word of the project on the board. After I finished all my team members thanked me. And one of my colleague told me that I’ll make a good team leader and another told me I’ll make a good teacher!

My Readings
I’m about to finish reading Nietzche’s “Thus Spoke Zarathustra”. I’m still neutral to the subject. One line I completely agree with him and others I just think of the nonsense he’s talking about.

I finished reading the Epic of Gilgamesh by Taha Baqir. I’ve read the first part of it (Gilgamesh & Inkido) in English, and the short modern version in Arabic. But this edition is different. It belongs to one of my colleagues who gave it to my mentor Wissam Al Haddad(who had a ceramic exhibition Gilgamesh: wings of mud and fire). I was supposed deliver the book but I couldn’t resist the temptation of reading it. I finished the book within maximum 12 hours. It’s one of the huge ones but it captivated me. I forgot the surrounding world and flied centuries back. I even had two dreams of Khumbaba (The creature Gilgamesh & Inkido slaughtered).

I finished six mini books from the Penguin 60’s Classics. Among them: Plato’s Phaedrus, Aristophanes’s Lysistrata, Giorgio Vasari’s Lives of three renaissance artists ( Leonardo, Raphael and Michelangelo), and Jane Austen’s unfinished novel in the form of letters, the history of England.

I thought the new room would give me more time to post and take care of my blog. But I’m not sure. My uncle’s family will come next month just few days after my final exams. And I have to write my theses proposal. And still have the finishing for my exhibition. I don’t know how I will manage. Time will tell us all about it.

Ear Story!

Warning: silly, boring, personal anecdote.

Just few minutes ago something freakishly funny happened to me. I was sitting in the living room trying to cheer up myself by watching “so you thing you can dance” the rerun of the first season. I was just sitting on the couch indifferently, rubbing my soured ear, when something weird shocked me.

Years back, when I was just about 9 I think, I had my ear pierced. The left ear had always given me sufferance because it was the first to be pierced and I was really scared. Therefore the hole was a bit aslope. Ever since, I had sensitive ears that I had to wear real gold or silver earrings.

Years passed and I was tempted by fashion and I got myself many earrings which were neither gold nor silver. It wasn’t a problem as I used to wear them for couple of hours and that was it.

Last week my right ear was souring. It’s because of the new earrings I got for Eid, which I wore most of the times. But still I would wear them anywhere. Anyway, Today I woke up early, went out for some paperwork, got back home, did my chores, and started studying which didn’t last long. My parents got home, we had dinner and there I was lazily in front of the TV when I remembered that I still have my earrings on. I took them off and started rubbing my ears. I didn’t want to leave my earrings on the coffee table because I knew I would forget them SO I decided to wear them on again. I watched the X-files, Mom’s favorite show, and then F.R.I.E.N.D.S, my favorite show. Then “So you think you can dance” started and the pain was back. I took the earrings of and there was something wrong with my right ear. There was a one single hair that when I pull it made my ear aches. That’s when I asked my mother’s help to check it for me. That one single hair came out of my ear-pierce! The only idea I have is that when I wore the earring on again it must have stuck on it and got into the hole.

With the help of my parents; dad holding the megascopic, and mom pulling the hair, the operation was thankfully successful.

There you go lazy people. I believe this is a sign :P

Cheers

The Mouth of Abyss

Rebellious words escape my pen
Refusing to be imprisoned on paper.
Asking me to wage a war
Against stupidity and failure.
There’s no place left for sanity
There’s no place for peace.
Time is eating up our minds
Persuading us to watch in silence.
If it’s not the blood we see in the street
Then for the cry of a child.
The sky is gloomy and sad
Exhaust its tears for Baghdad.
The poet is left without a word
The painter is left without a brush
The sweet butterflies have no meadows
Nothing left for beauty
Nothing left for but sorrow.
Death has marched into the cities.
Plague has roamed the earth.
Nothing left for wisdom
Reason has kissed us goodbye.

You asked me “Is there a way to help?”
I told you “Can the Helpless offer help?”
You’re already paralyzed by fear,
Or is the hunger?
O Time, o Arms of Hours
Release us from your Canines
And let us be.
Save me time to go back to Baghdad
To go back to the gardens of Babylon
Just to have another look on Malweya
To swim once again in Tigris and Euphrates.
Save us time to enjoy Nawrooz
To fly back in time to the Scientists of Mustansiria.
Release us from the chains
Release us from the rope.

Dangled with the rope of misery
Over the mouth of Abyss.
The Darkness of the night has filled my heart with fear
Where to escape and where to go?
Shall I say goodbye like the millions
Shall I say goodbye and leave for the unknown
What about the heritage of the nation
Who will defend the Zaqurat?
It’s the sounds of Minarets…
The bells of Churches…
They are all calling me
Hanging on to me.
I hear them say “Don’t leave”
O Time, o deceitful Hours
Have you no shame, have you no honor?
This is where the First Letter was written
This is where the First Law was written
This is where Men invented the Wheel
This is where Women were first honored.
O The Cradle of Civilizations
You have become the grave of civilizations.

2007-09-05 1:30

Cholera!!!

It so hard to believe that the disease I read about only in history and Biology books is still alive and where? In Iraq! As if Iraqis don’t have enough rproblems.
When I hear the word cholera, the only thing that comes to my mind is “Love in The Time of Cholera” . But Cholera here is not about Love symptoms; it’s the real fatal disease. The one we studied in Biology class, with simple diarrhea that causes 50% death. The Cholera that we read about in history books, when cities are falling down and they are troubled and plagued with poverty.
There were days when I thought that everything will be fine very soon and I’ll go back to Iraq and move on with my life. But those optimistic days are rear now. Every now and then something shocking comes up and washes away all hopes and innocent dreams of mine. It gives me an imagery where problems are seaweed and every now and then they come to the surface.
To stop following the news was the only solution I found few months back. But still, bad news flies so fast and everywhere that you cannot avoid. At the same time I feel guilty I’m not aware of what’s going on in Iraq and the hard times that my country is undergoing.

WHO has announced “10 Sep” and updated “14 Sep” the news about Cholera in Iraq and declared that “In controlling the spread of cholera WHO does not recommend any special restrictions to travel or trade to or from affected areas.” So it’s all about traveling and trading and as long as you can do both then life is still going on. How ironic!

I happen to read a post on a blog I never heard about before where readers were commenting and having an interesting discussion.

“In a chilling reminder of how difficult it may be to maintain those levels, Dr. Mohsin said that chlorine imports had been severely curtailed as a result of recent insurgent bombs that had been laced with chlorine, which in concentrated form can be deadly.”!!!

One of the comments there was
“Donald,
I guess ethnic cleansing was a bad choice of words.
Ramamdi had a population of 435,000 before our invasion, now it looks deserted.
Considering Jordan and Syria now have more Iraqi citizens living there than al Anbar province, why is "peace" there such a "success."
We can't depopulate all of Iraq.” Posted by: alphie | September 12, 2007 at 08:09 PM”

So the US administration or whoever that may be, imposes hypotheses and made their nation believe that Iraq is such a threat, and now Iraqis need democracy. We have this Iraqi proverb that means “they lie and believe their lies”. Peace among Iraqis was never a problem.

What will be the result of “Divide & Rule” thing over the years? The longer it takes the harder it gets. What will be of a country that bled through ages and still bleeding until this moment? Those I guess are questions only history will answer. And still we don’t know who will write this history to know if it was true or just glorified mistakes.

Away from history and questions we are uncertain about their answers; what about the innocents? Those poor people who suffered and still suffering; those who carry pain as much as they carry pride. May God help them.

Religion!

I may have said it many times earlier that I don’t talk politics or religion issues but every now and then something tempts me to break this little rule of mine. In my previous post I didn’t talk about religion. I only highlighted how ignorant people could be lead by Machiavellian villain, whether in the name of justice, democracy or religion.
Unfortunately, there was a comment written anonymously, saying that “everyone should convert to Christianity”.

Mr. /Ms Anonymous, I wouldn’t say dear. I don’t know you. I’m not sure you understood my point of view. How dare you accuse Islam for those ignorant people? I dare to say that you know nothing about Islam or Muslims. And let me say that you know almost nothing about Christianity and what has been done in the name of Christianity and Corporal Mortification.

I was talking about self torture in the name of religion and how some people believe that God will forgive their sins if they suffer. Let me say that long before Islam, Christian did self-torture themselves, and long before Christian did that other pagan believers like Fire worshipers, Hindus and others also did the same.
It’s a false belief which was popular many centuries ago. And every new religion faced heretical adaptation from the previously governing religion. You may have to examine the first Christian who performed this act, if you ever heard of The Canterburyand, Becket? doesn't ring a bell?

Why should Muslims convert to Christianity when we are satisfied with our religion and happy and thank God everyday that we were born Muslims? I believe you need to check who you’re talking to and addressing these lines before you click publish.

One of the basic elements of believing in Islam is to believe in the previous prophets and holly books. This is a fact I cannot negotiate because I am a devoted Muslim. But the interesting point, in our Holly Qur’an there are many verses that say the previous holly books were interpolated. Therefore I wouldn’t take your advice and believe in everything written in the Bible.

I’ve read many lines from the Old testimony and read the illustrated Bible, and part of my study of literature I had to recall many psalms, not just to see the difference but because I’m interested in culture, history and religion and their effects on Human in general. I’m glad to say that when reciting Qur’an I have no doubts, as Qur’an supports many scientific facts that new science has just proved right. Simply go back to Galileo and the Center of the Universe little story.
I suggest before you throw your comments here and there about how Muslims should convert to Christianity, go and read a bit about Islam. And when I say Islam I mean the Holly Qur’an and not the new books which are being written now to distort the image of Islam and link it to terrorism.

My apologies and respect to my Christian friends who may read this post. But I believe you know me when it comes to Islam and how some people take the chance to attack my religion.

Busy their Minds, Waste their Lives

I was watching "Taken" the other day when I thought what a nightmare would it be for children to believe there are aliens and some flying saucers out there who want to get them. My worst nightmare was about a crocodile swimming in the schoolyard, which nearly became a lake for a while because of a broken pipe back then. My friend and I would be sitting on a huge tree trunk (there were two huge trees that fell during the 1991 war and nobody removed them. They ended up to be our spaceship when we played Space raiders. That crocodile would approach us quietly; opens its jaws to reveal the sharp teeth…and I would wake up shaking.

Other than that nightmare, I had a fright from the tiger Sheri Khan, which came to my imagination from The Jungle Book. My worst fear was that he would come to my bed and take me. How would he reach the eighth floor? How would he enter our apartment? How would he take me? I never wondered. I used to sleep near the wall and leave the other side of the bed empty.

Away from the reoccurring dreams about escaping and running under a sky full of missiles and the horrifying sounds of regular shelling and bombing, which were the background music to our mothers' lullabies. As an Iraqi child, I had a normal childhood.

Thinking of spaceships and strangers from another planet would freak the hell out of any child, and would occupy the mind of any adult, if there were any real evidence of their existence.

But let’s say we had brothers and sisters on other planets and we were happy to contact them. Spending zillions of dollars to invade planets to contact the "brothers and sisters" up there and tell them we like to be "Friends". If we want to know those "aliens" and be acquainted with; why not spending only time, not that millions, and try to understand and be acquainted with the "brothers and sisters" who already exist on the same planet? Why not find peace on earth, instead of searching for "out spacers" and try to play "peace" with them?

I find it easy to understand that the US administration wanted to keep it’s citizens busy with flying saucers at that time, as much as Occupiers and the new Iraqi administration wanted to busy "most Iraqis" with slapping their faces and hitting their heads with blades, or jab themselves with made in UK shackles. It is another version of the same story, to distract masses of what is really happening on the land of reality.

First of all, they would be busy preparing for the event, whether the tools or food and what to wear. Add to it the rehearsals for the whole ceremony. Second, they would be busy during the ceremony. Third, they would need more than just a couple of days off just to heal from the beating and the bleeding. Four, which I believe the most important point, is the number of irreplaceable cerebral cells, which are being damaged during such a behavior.
They are 12 Imams, the 12 are dead, and each Imam’s death took place in a month, therefore 12 times a year. That’s the minimum!

I am still wondering how could self-punishment or self inflicted-torture can be self-purification? And purification from what? The slaughters that happened centuries ago? Or even the Original Sin? Or the sins committed now? Does that come from a real religion? If they are believers, do they really think that would make them God's favorite creatures? Do they ever think of God? God forbade tormenting or killing people and even animals. Would He approve self inflicted-torture? I am really interested in these questions to an extent that I’ll take them and study them seriously once I have time.

To sum it all, I don't blame the ignorant but I'm blaming hypocrites who claim to be religious men and lead those ignorant to waste their time and life.

WHY

This is not a real post but I'd like to share this article written by an Iraqi in Amman after our National football team won the cup.
Sorry for those who doesn't read Arabic, and I don't think there's a chance to translate it any soon.

An Iraqi's letter

Sistery thing

The previous two months I could handle the papers, exams and the exhibition thing easily because I'm used to it and this is the kind of life I was born to live. But with my eldest sister around, here comes the bomb. The thing is no matter how much you disagree with someone and no matter how far the relationship can reach, it's different with sisters. First, we are family. We've been through almost the exact experience of life, share almost the same genes. We were raised by the same parents in the same house but still we're different.

My sister and I have this "sistery relationship", which sometimes faces mad wind and other times enjoys a summer breeze. She's only three years older than me. And that alone does not make her the big sister, but her bossy nature does. And she used to love it when she makes orders and control everything when my parents are at work or away.
Lately she discovered that she's been taking care of me and my other sister for her entire life. When she was only seven or eight, after she comes back from school, she would walk to the nearby kindergarten to take me and then the next-door nursery school to take my baby sister. She would walk me and push my sister's pram all the way home. Luckily those days were safe then and we lived in a building neighborhood with no streets for cars.
For so many years she was the one I'm depending on to make decisions. She would tell me what to wear and how to arrange my hair, what to buy and how to use, what to play and with whom. It was fun for me to depend on her. She made my life easier. Maybe this is the kind of life we, second children, like because we are always told to look at the bigger siblings and do like them.

Once we started to attend the same school I started to stick around her and her gang. I would want to play with them. Even if they didn't let me I would show my sad face to make her pity me. I was an adorable chubby girl (until the second grade) and her friend had no problem in letting me hang around with them. But she needed her space and the feeling that she was with her own gang doing their own stuff. But there was a trick she used to do to make me leave by bribing me with her nuttella's sandwiches.

Years and years have passed and she got married. I haven't seen her since the two weeks I spent in Amman early 2007 and before that on August, her wedding.

Since 2005, I've been living with my parents in UAE, and both of them have been spoiling me in so many ways, but now it's reality time and my Sister is in town. I gave it a week before we start our "sistery thing" but it started three days after she has arrived.

They are silly stuff which we disagree about but it reflects our own personalities and perception. She's the kind of "live your day as if it was your last". And to her I seem not to enjoy the day. For me all the "Carpe diem" thing is beautiful in poetry or maybe a movie. Somehow I just cannot live by that code. I enjoy what I can for the moment but I have to think about tomorrow even if it will never exits the next day.
Suddenly, the way I eat, the way I think, what I wear and how I style my hair, all those are not excellent. They are not even good for her. She made me straight my hair (which I rarely do); wear the glamorous clothes I forgot in the back of my closet. She made me wear make up wherever I go, the high-heel shoes I neglect and pretend I'm in my twenties. But wait a minute; I am in my early twenties. That strikes me! ok, she's right.
....

As for my youngest sister (sosa lola) she doesn't only live for the day but she lives the minute. She's the party type. Hanging out with her friends, spending time on the PC or watching TV or a Movie is pretty much all she does.

The two years between us sometimes doesn't exist but other times it seems to be a huge gap. But we communicate the best when it comes to movies and songs. She's the bravest of us all. She refused to leave Iraq when we left until she finished high school. My dad had to stay with her of course.

One of the greatest things about having two sisters is that you can make alliance with one of them and enjoy making fun of the third for a while, as the same time you still can make alliance with the third and make fun of the first. But I have to warn you that it's not so much fun when the other two are making an alliance against you for so long.
Sometimes we do wish if we had a brother but when we think about it we make fun of it and how we'll make his life impossible. I’m very grateful that I have my two sisters and the best of all when the three of us make alliance and make fun of someone else. We get really sistery. (Is that even a word?)

A Window to my Nowadays Life

It's a new day. So I guess I survived the exams. It was hectic for this entire month. I had to submit my projects and assignments according to the deadlines, I had to revise the material for three subjects, I was and still preparing for the coming exhibition, besides that my eldest sister was here in UAE for a visit. And now I have my other sister here in UAE also staying for a month.

So many things took place on many levels, internationally, nationally and personally. The horrible news all over the world and the clashes within nations in the Arab area besides the horrifying news we hear from Baghdad are just too much to take. I stopped to follow up. I just hear from people around me about what happens the next day or so. I stopped reading news on-line; the last newspaper I read was about three weeks ago. For now I just have to read the business paper as a part of my study.

First time for "Four courses semister"

The busy life has captured me. Lately I started to wish we have 24 hours plus 8 hours to sleep. Somehow the 24 hours are not enough to accomplish everything on my "today list to do". It is taking much more time then ever to study the chapter and preparing for the lecture before the session. The four subjects I registered for might be the reason behind that. Back in collage days I used to register for the maximum hours per course, that's the advantage of a 3.6 GPA. For MBA, I'm used to three courses a semester and now it just seems impossible for four. Most of my friends who have 4 courses are preparing bits and bites for each course and some of them are even neglecting the Managerial Economy class. I'm not used to such thing. When I take a course I don't want to only pass, I want to learn.

First time for Graphics

Besides the 24 + 8 hours a day I wished if we had three hands. Wondering why? I swear it sounded smart when I said it the first time. Lately I've been working on Graphic artwork which I'm preparing for my coming exhibition and for your knowledge Graphic is not such an easy job. The first two Graphs I made were silly and childish, but eventually I could manage work on metal better than working on leno. The tools resemble those of surgeons. They are sharp and when I'm saying sharp I don't mean the glazed edges, surely not *remembering the scratches I got because of this aggressive art techniques*. As for the acids, don't get me started. They smell so bad and they are really really dangerous to inhale.

Back to the three hand idea. With masks and rubber gloves, inks, various types of acids, turpentine, thinner and other stuff that I haven't been introduced to, the toxic part of the blob effect ruins the skin and clothes. At certain times I have on hand with inks, and the other fixing the metal piece on the table, out of a sudden because of the smell my nose start itching and I have no free nor clean hand. The third sounds brilliant, right?
That's all for now
Until then...