For all ladies out there, when a guy asks you to go away, kindly go away. Respect yourself, and the gender you represent and simply go away. Men do not play these kinda games. When they say something like that, they straight-forwardly mean it. Men do not send hidden messages when they break up, they are not being absurd or playing hard to get. They simply do not want you.
The thing about us women and them men is that we have different means of communication. Women tend to communicate what they want in a rather complicated way, they send messages that need to be decoded. Poor men, they have to have so many different decoding maps to read women since we do not all have the same coding system. However, men are simple, they say what they mean. Even when they have to “encipher”, it’s very simple and common amongst all men; for example when they say: “I’m tired I don’t feel like going out, let’s order some pizza and watch a DVD”, this means it's about time to have sex, even if it's only your second date! Very simple. Now of course they lie in every possible way, manipulate the truth and twist the facts all they want, but when they talk it’s quite simple.
Also we have to know that men will not take any decision. The BALLS they brag about, help them in every way except running a relationship. The funny thing is that they don’t even admit it. It is a fact that women take all the important steps. They choose the man, not the contrary, they draw the lines, they decide to go to bed, they decide to take the relationship to the next step and the most important is that they END the relationship. Now men will drive you crazy at each step, they will manipulate you and try to push the relationship the way they want, so it becomes a battle field, but they won’t take decisions. Especially when they’re fed up with the relationship and they want to break. They won’t do it, they will push you to do it. They will make your life miserable and oppress you in many ways, so when you’re fed up you leave them. What a torture. But anyways, what I wanna say here is when they actually SAY that they don’t want you anymore, believe me that means that every other possible way did not work with you, you are still sticking to their awful ass no matter what they try to do.
For example, if you choose to move from Bahrain to Dubai to be with him WITHOUT him asking you, that’s stupid. When you impose yourself on him and move in WITHOUT him asking you, that’s stupid. When you change all your life, move in all your expensive furniture without having the slightest clue where are you going to put it, when you bring your cats to live with his dogs, and you pay a fortune to bring your horse and put it in a fancy bloody expensive stable, when he knows how much money and effort you invested and how you drastically changed your life for him and despite all of that he asks you to move out while you haven’t been in more than 2 months, when he does that it means that he doesn’t want you. When he, on several occasion, tells you that it’s not working, when he doesn’t tell you what is he doing for Christmas and New Year, when he doesn’t invite to come with him to the States, while he knows how much you hate to go back to UK in the festive season, this means that he doesn’t want you in his life. And when you keep going around saying: "I want to leave him, I want to leave him", believe me, we all know that he wants to leave you, because no sane woman would bring the guy she wants to leave to her company’s official launching and introduce him to all her colleagues. And finally, after all what he’s done, and you still did not get it, finally when he tells you straight in the face that he doesn’t want to be with you anymore, please have some dignity and leave.
Thursday, November 30, 2006
Sunday, November 26, 2006
Inaya the Guarding Angel
Hello everyone, my first post on Hakaya El Maraya is live. It's called Inaya the Guarding Angel . True story talking about how i came to Dubai.
Where would I’ve been now should not Inaya take care of me when I first came to Dubai? I would have taken the same flight that brought me here back home.Those were tough days, although I was almost 25 years old, although I have been working in the most corrupted environment for six years, although I have been engaged twice. Despite all of that, I was still a virgin. I was a virgin in every way. What did I know about negotiating a contract? I do have a business degree but do I know the slightest thing about contracts?? Hell no. What do I know about being a Lebanese girl living on her own in the gulf? I saw them traveling everyday but did I foresee the challenges?? Hell no.Inaya was like a mother to me. When I first joined Middle East Airlines in 1993, I was one of the less than 100 employees to join MEA after 10 years of freezing – MEA was not employing at all during that time- We were called the new blood, or was it the fresh blood? No, no, it was the new blood. Anyways, 10 or so “new blood” joined the passenger handling department at the airport. Now I don’t know how many of you remember how the MEA employees were before 1993, even few years after 1993, they were OLD. I had to mingle with the “young generation” where the younger person was 20 years older than me. Most of the old staff were very skeptical about the new blood, and refused to train us or give us the “secrets” of handling the flights. We were a big threat to their jobs; maybe they will kick them out if we learn ho to do the job properly, what do they know! But we were not a threat to Inaya, neither to Inaya nor to her clique of girls: Sanaa, Liliane and Mona. Those were the “Golden Girls” of the MEA and they accepted to train the new blood.In her early forties, Inaya was a petite brunette with short hair and clear brown eyes. She was very active, preparing for her masters at the Lebanese University, attending overseas scouting meetings, working on the syndicate campaigns, in one word: always busy. She’s never been married or engaged, no one knows that she had ever had any kind of romantic affairs. She was too idealistic, too feminist to accept the cocky Arab men mentality. Also she was too religious and too conservative to even think about a foreign husband. But still she was the best mom I had ever seen. Sanaa was the pretty one, mid to late thirties, analytical thinker, always wearing a light but a beautiful make up, black shoulder length hair, black eyes and white skin, very sensitive, very soft spoken and always joyful. Liliane was the shrewd, no make up at all, thick eye glasses, short fizzy hair and always with a book, a cigarette and a rosary in her hand. Although she swears that she had never lifted a hand for any kind of exercise what so ever, she had an athletic body that burns all the 7 spoons of sugar she takes in every cup of her 20 cups of coffee a day. Mona was the funny, tall, white, chubby, thin black hair, she was the secretary, always in charge of anything related to food and she wanted to get married, by all means.They were like a second family to me, and when in 1999 Israel hit Beirut again, I had it! What the fuck! There is no way I could move a single step in this company: look around you Rania, You’ve only been here for six years, do you expect any kind of promotions soon, look around you, Passenger Handling Officers have been officers for 10 to 15 years, and they all have bachelors, Masters and some PhDs, They all have wasta (pull) no one in the MEA does not have a wasta! And Lebanon, the country that you believed in, the country that you refused to leave as kid in the midst of the war, your beloved country, will you leave it now?? Excuse me Lebanon, but I lost faith, there is no way that this will be a normal country, not during my life time. I ran to the rest room and exploded in tears, I can’t stand the war anymore, and I’m getting out of here. I put in my purse the Canadian Immigration form that Rana has left in the office trying to convince me to apply with her and I started reading the ads section in the newspapers: DO YOU WANNA WORK IN DUBAI FOR THE BEST HOTEL IN THE WORLD? Well, yes I want to leave here, I will apply. I only sent an email, only a tiny miny email. The next day I got a reply and the next month I was in Dubai.My mom thought that it was crisis and it will pass, I had around 40 vacation days so I took them all and I took my yearly ticket to Dubai, what am I gonna loose? I have my return ticket and Inaya is there, she’s been in Dubai working at the MEA sales office for a few months now, she will take care of me. She offered to pick me up from the airport; I said no, Jumeirah will pick me up.They picked us up, the four of us out of hundreds who applied for the job. They dropped us to a compound in the middle of the night, but not before taking our passports. I entered my room; it looked scary, and I’m sharing it with the girl who was with me on the plane, gosh I was not supposed to share a room! Gosh this stranger of a girl looks scary. The recruitment agency said that I will be sharing a flat not a room, especially not a prison room. This is not a five star accommodation! I couldn’t sleep that night. The first thing I did in the morning since it was a Friday, I went out of the room to see where I am, Oh fuck! I was in the middle of nowhere surrounded by people from another species; I was the only white skin in the compound, THE ONLY one, not even my Lebanese roommate, she was more like an African. I never thought of myself being racist but I got scared. We went to the cafeteria, the food sucks, it looked disgusting and it sucked. My tears were falling on their own. This is definitely not what I came for, definitely not. How am I going to get out of here? I don’t even have an access to a telephone! They took my passport, they took my passport, I wanna go back home, NOW.All of a sudden, somebody came to the cafeteria and told me that there is someone waiting for me outside; oh God it was Inaya, how did she know where I am? How did she manage to come to the middle of Al Quoz, the industrial area? How did she? How did she? All That I know is I shouted Inaya, ran into her arms, hugged her and burst in tears. She took me as I am, in my shorts, my sleeveless shirt and sandals, without my baggage without a bag without even my passport; as I am. She put me in her car and straight to her house where I stayed one of the most decisive months in my life.
Where would I’ve been now should not Inaya take care of me when I first came to Dubai? I would have taken the same flight that brought me here back home.Those were tough days, although I was almost 25 years old, although I have been working in the most corrupted environment for six years, although I have been engaged twice. Despite all of that, I was still a virgin. I was a virgin in every way. What did I know about negotiating a contract? I do have a business degree but do I know the slightest thing about contracts?? Hell no. What do I know about being a Lebanese girl living on her own in the gulf? I saw them traveling everyday but did I foresee the challenges?? Hell no.Inaya was like a mother to me. When I first joined Middle East Airlines in 1993, I was one of the less than 100 employees to join MEA after 10 years of freezing – MEA was not employing at all during that time- We were called the new blood, or was it the fresh blood? No, no, it was the new blood. Anyways, 10 or so “new blood” joined the passenger handling department at the airport. Now I don’t know how many of you remember how the MEA employees were before 1993, even few years after 1993, they were OLD. I had to mingle with the “young generation” where the younger person was 20 years older than me. Most of the old staff were very skeptical about the new blood, and refused to train us or give us the “secrets” of handling the flights. We were a big threat to their jobs; maybe they will kick them out if we learn ho to do the job properly, what do they know! But we were not a threat to Inaya, neither to Inaya nor to her clique of girls: Sanaa, Liliane and Mona. Those were the “Golden Girls” of the MEA and they accepted to train the new blood.In her early forties, Inaya was a petite brunette with short hair and clear brown eyes. She was very active, preparing for her masters at the Lebanese University, attending overseas scouting meetings, working on the syndicate campaigns, in one word: always busy. She’s never been married or engaged, no one knows that she had ever had any kind of romantic affairs. She was too idealistic, too feminist to accept the cocky Arab men mentality. Also she was too religious and too conservative to even think about a foreign husband. But still she was the best mom I had ever seen. Sanaa was the pretty one, mid to late thirties, analytical thinker, always wearing a light but a beautiful make up, black shoulder length hair, black eyes and white skin, very sensitive, very soft spoken and always joyful. Liliane was the shrewd, no make up at all, thick eye glasses, short fizzy hair and always with a book, a cigarette and a rosary in her hand. Although she swears that she had never lifted a hand for any kind of exercise what so ever, she had an athletic body that burns all the 7 spoons of sugar she takes in every cup of her 20 cups of coffee a day. Mona was the funny, tall, white, chubby, thin black hair, she was the secretary, always in charge of anything related to food and she wanted to get married, by all means.They were like a second family to me, and when in 1999 Israel hit Beirut again, I had it! What the fuck! There is no way I could move a single step in this company: look around you Rania, You’ve only been here for six years, do you expect any kind of promotions soon, look around you, Passenger Handling Officers have been officers for 10 to 15 years, and they all have bachelors, Masters and some PhDs, They all have wasta (pull) no one in the MEA does not have a wasta! And Lebanon, the country that you believed in, the country that you refused to leave as kid in the midst of the war, your beloved country, will you leave it now?? Excuse me Lebanon, but I lost faith, there is no way that this will be a normal country, not during my life time. I ran to the rest room and exploded in tears, I can’t stand the war anymore, and I’m getting out of here. I put in my purse the Canadian Immigration form that Rana has left in the office trying to convince me to apply with her and I started reading the ads section in the newspapers: DO YOU WANNA WORK IN DUBAI FOR THE BEST HOTEL IN THE WORLD? Well, yes I want to leave here, I will apply. I only sent an email, only a tiny miny email. The next day I got a reply and the next month I was in Dubai.My mom thought that it was crisis and it will pass, I had around 40 vacation days so I took them all and I took my yearly ticket to Dubai, what am I gonna loose? I have my return ticket and Inaya is there, she’s been in Dubai working at the MEA sales office for a few months now, she will take care of me. She offered to pick me up from the airport; I said no, Jumeirah will pick me up.They picked us up, the four of us out of hundreds who applied for the job. They dropped us to a compound in the middle of the night, but not before taking our passports. I entered my room; it looked scary, and I’m sharing it with the girl who was with me on the plane, gosh I was not supposed to share a room! Gosh this stranger of a girl looks scary. The recruitment agency said that I will be sharing a flat not a room, especially not a prison room. This is not a five star accommodation! I couldn’t sleep that night. The first thing I did in the morning since it was a Friday, I went out of the room to see where I am, Oh fuck! I was in the middle of nowhere surrounded by people from another species; I was the only white skin in the compound, THE ONLY one, not even my Lebanese roommate, she was more like an African. I never thought of myself being racist but I got scared. We went to the cafeteria, the food sucks, it looked disgusting and it sucked. My tears were falling on their own. This is definitely not what I came for, definitely not. How am I going to get out of here? I don’t even have an access to a telephone! They took my passport, they took my passport, I wanna go back home, NOW.All of a sudden, somebody came to the cafeteria and told me that there is someone waiting for me outside; oh God it was Inaya, how did she know where I am? How did she manage to come to the middle of Al Quoz, the industrial area? How did she? How did she? All That I know is I shouted Inaya, ran into her arms, hugged her and burst in tears. She took me as I am, in my shorts, my sleeveless shirt and sandals, without my baggage without a bag without even my passport; as I am. She put me in her car and straight to her house where I stayed one of the most decisive months in my life.
Saturday, November 25, 2006
Take a chance
Don’t fool yourself and everyone around you and pretend that you are willing to take a chance. “Taking a chance” means that you are willing to accept and embrace failure, taking the chance means that you are willing to take the journey and enjoy it no matter what will be your destination. Should the destination be where you wanted, it’s perfect, if not, you took your chance. That’s taking a chance. I mean I don’t understand how people willingly take their money, and spend it happily in the casino, hundreds, thousands and even millions, but if they invest in a relationship and they fail, what a tragedy. The drama is the process they go through before they even think of a new relationship. The comedy is when they pretend that they are willing to take a chance.
Give me a break!
Give me a break!
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
Monday, November 20, 2006
Soul mates
I got stuck in traffic today. It’s not an unusual scene in Dubai, but I always manage to avoid it. Today my brother Walid was supposed to pick me up at 6 pm, he got late, so I got late and we eventually all got late. Don’t you hate when you clean you desk and decide to leave on time and then 10 minutes, only 10 minutes spoil your whole evening. Of course, coz should I not pick up the bloody phone at 6:10 I would not have to review the article of the obnoxious journalist and try to clean the shit of the comatose principal who released classified information to the press!!! I only left at 7:00 and I had an appointment with my personal trainer at 7:30 that I eventually missed. But since I didn’t know I was going to miss it, I was in a hurry. I ran to the parking and jumped into the car, only to see that the back seat was occupied. It was Hani, my brother’s friend. We had to drop him home in Diyafa. It’ s a drive that should not take more than 5 minutes in normal times, but not today, today it was a good one hour wait. Anyways, I was stuck in the car with my brother and his friend. Actually Hani is more than a friend to Walid; Hani was his manager in his previous job in Beirut, and his mentor. (By the way, they are both looking for jobs now in Dubai, guess why….)
I told you before how the only thing I regret about living in Dubai is that I missed the most beautiful days of my brother’s adolescence. It’s true that we were, are, and will always be very close, but I did not actually see him growing and I regret that. I did not enjoy seeing him becoming a man, I did not discuss cultural, social, religious and political issues with him, I did not guide him. Or maybe I did, he says that I did, but it was definitely not the way I wished to. Anyways, Hani was this person. Today I spent more than an hour with them in the car. I’ve seen Hani quite a few times before but today I saw different things in him. I actually saw a lot of my brother in him. The way he talks the way he acts, a lot of similarities… Hani is actually a great guy (he’s newly wed, so don’t get ideas ok) he’s maybe 7 years older than Walid, and he was his manager he supported him in many ways. They become really close, so close to the extent that they act like each others. It’s not that obvious, I mean if you don’t know both of them you wouldn’t tell, but if you look deep, you can see the similarities. Isn’t weird how people who like each others look and act like each others. How many times you thought that friends were brothers, or even couples, have you noticed how they become one person, the resemblance, the harmony, the similarities. Do we copy the traits of those we admire and love? Or do we admire and love those who resemble to us?
I told you before how the only thing I regret about living in Dubai is that I missed the most beautiful days of my brother’s adolescence. It’s true that we were, are, and will always be very close, but I did not actually see him growing and I regret that. I did not enjoy seeing him becoming a man, I did not discuss cultural, social, religious and political issues with him, I did not guide him. Or maybe I did, he says that I did, but it was definitely not the way I wished to. Anyways, Hani was this person. Today I spent more than an hour with them in the car. I’ve seen Hani quite a few times before but today I saw different things in him. I actually saw a lot of my brother in him. The way he talks the way he acts, a lot of similarities… Hani is actually a great guy (he’s newly wed, so don’t get ideas ok) he’s maybe 7 years older than Walid, and he was his manager he supported him in many ways. They become really close, so close to the extent that they act like each others. It’s not that obvious, I mean if you don’t know both of them you wouldn’t tell, but if you look deep, you can see the similarities. Isn’t weird how people who like each others look and act like each others. How many times you thought that friends were brothers, or even couples, have you noticed how they become one person, the resemblance, the harmony, the similarities. Do we copy the traits of those we admire and love? Or do we admire and love those who resemble to us?
Friday, November 17, 2006
إلا رؤياك
اختلج قلبي بين ضلوعي, ملهوف يطلب رؤياك
ما له لا يكل, أبداً يطلب ملقاك
تارةً يأن, تارةً يجن, دوماُ يحن لذكراك
أراه يبكي, أراه يشكي, أراه يغلي أين أراك
ماذا بعد رحيلك يا حبي؟
ماذا بعد الشرخ الأليم
كيف ألملم, أين أذهب بقلبٍ عليلٍ دميم
اختفت معالمه فلا ترى إلا جروحٍ و دماءٍ و ترميم
قلبٌ مشوّه لا يعرف للألم معنىً
فحبك قتل كل الحواس
قلبٌ أخرق لا يجد للحب وقتاُ
فحبك أضنى الإلتماس
قلبٌ تعيس لا يرى في الزهر شوقاً
فحبك جفف كل الإيناس
قلبٌ مخبول يُصْلب, وما عاد يماك ما يُسْلب
لكنه مع هذا كله
ملهوف يطلب رؤياك
إليك عني فما عدت أملك شيئاً لأعطي
إليك عني فما عدت أحمل إذ قصمت ظهري
إليك عني فما عدت أقوى على ردئ التمني
إليك عني إليك عني
أنا لا ألومك على زهرة حبي التي قطفتها
فهي زهرة ولا بد أن تقطف
أنا لا ألومك على بحر الحب الذي استنفدته
فهو بحر ولا بد أن ينفد
أنا لا ألومك على أيام زينتها بوعد
فهي أيام ولا بد أن تمر
أنا لا ألومك, لا ألومك
بل أنا أحقد عليك ولست أحقد على ما ذكرت
فأنا أحقد على سمٍّّّّّّ زرأت به نفسي
أنا أحقد على عقمٍ زرعته في قلبي
أنا أحقد على جفافٍ خلفته في روحي
إليك عني
فما عدت أقوى على الحب
وما عدت أستطيع العطاء
أنا خائرة, منهارة, مشلولة
لا أريد شيئاً
ألا رؤياك
تارةً يأن, تارةً يجن, دوماُ يحن لذكراك
أراه يبكي, أراه يشكي, أراه يغلي أين أراك
ماذا بعد رحيلك يا حبي؟
ماذا بعد الشرخ الأليم
كيف ألملم, أين أذهب بقلبٍ عليلٍ دميم
اختفت معالمه فلا ترى إلا جروحٍ و دماءٍ و ترميم
قلبٌ مشوّه لا يعرف للألم معنىً
فحبك قتل كل الحواس
قلبٌ أخرق لا يجد للحب وقتاُ
فحبك أضنى الإلتماس
قلبٌ تعيس لا يرى في الزهر شوقاً
فحبك جفف كل الإيناس
قلبٌ مخبول يُصْلب, وما عاد يماك ما يُسْلب
لكنه مع هذا كله
ملهوف يطلب رؤياك
إليك عني فما عدت أملك شيئاً لأعطي
إليك عني فما عدت أحمل إذ قصمت ظهري
إليك عني فما عدت أقوى على ردئ التمني
إليك عني إليك عني
أنا لا ألومك على زهرة حبي التي قطفتها
فهي زهرة ولا بد أن تقطف
أنا لا ألومك على بحر الحب الذي استنفدته
فهو بحر ولا بد أن ينفد
أنا لا ألومك على أيام زينتها بوعد
فهي أيام ولا بد أن تمر
أنا لا ألومك, لا ألومك
بل أنا أحقد عليك ولست أحقد على ما ذكرت
فأنا أحقد على سمٍّّّّّّ زرأت به نفسي
أنا أحقد على عقمٍ زرعته في قلبي
أنا أحقد على جفافٍ خلفته في روحي
إليك عني
فما عدت أقوى على الحب
وما عدت أستطيع العطاء
أنا خائرة, منهارة, مشلولة
لا أريد شيئاً
ألا رؤياك
Friday, November 10, 2006
Telling lies
Lying is a deliberate choice to mislead a target without giving any notification of the intent to do so. There are two major forms of lying: concealment, leaving out the true information; and falsification, or presenting false information as if it were true. Other ways to lie include: misdirecting, acknowledging an emotion but misidentifying what caused it; telling the truth falsely, or admitting the truth but with such exaggeration or humour that the target remains uninformed or misled; half concealment, or admitting only part of what is true, so as to deflect the target’s interest in what remains concealed; and the incorrect-inference dodge, or telling the truth but in a way that implies the opposite of what is said.There are two kinds of clues to deceit: leakage, when the liar inadvertently reveals the truth, and deception clues, when the liar’s behaviour reveals only that what he says is untrue.
Both leakage and deception clues are mistakes. They do not always happen. Not all lies fail ...
From Telling Lies by Paul Ekman 1985
How many times were you deceived? Can you tell? or do you need a fortune teller??
Tuesday, November 7, 2006
Saturday, November 4, 2006
Loulou? Oui c'est moi...
The most beautiful person on earth is here with me. He’s handsome, he’s sweet, he’s funny, and he’s caring. He’s clever, he’s transparent. He can see straight through me and make my days happier. He’s all of that in one person, who can beat this???. The day he was born was the best day in my life, I’m not exaggerating. His birth is the best thing that has ever happened to me, I’m really not exaggerating.
She thought that stopping the pills that were killing her and ruining her life and her family’s life for up to six month is safe; she’s been on those pills for more than six years. She thought that she was too old to have a third kid, oh my god she was 27, how can she get pregnant again, it’s dangerous (yes it’s twenty seven, not thirty seven, not forty seven, she was twenty seven…) But that was god’s will.
For nine months he was called Samer, for my bother’s best friend - who happens to be my best twins-friends’ (Soha and Souzane) brother - his name was Samer. Her name was Injie, since my mom and I were real fond of that name. Injie never made it out of my imagination, while Samer stepped back when khalo Mohammed suggested the name Walid. As if Walid talked to us in the hospital and said, I’m not Samer, I’m Walid.
It has been 24 years and I still remember that day as if it was yesterday. She was obsessed by the cleanliness of her house: who else could clean her house? She will be away for a day and might not be able to clean for 3 to 4 days. Being an eight years old, I didn’t think of that….. She was in labor but still had to clean the house and do the laundry. You know, I always thought that she was very beautiful, but that day she was glowing. I was running after her giving her the laundry to put it on the rope: “quickly, quickly roro, yalla habibti yalla”. My brother and I were traumatized but she was full of energy. When she was cleaning the bathroom she almost delivered, but no, she won’t do it before she’s fully ready. I ran with her to bedroom, took her towel and gave her the clothes. Oh how I love her pregnancy dress fuchsia kinda silk with small violet flowers. Don’t be fooled with how I used to fight with her and talk back at her and give her attitude, she was my goddess. Baba dropped us at khalo’s place and ran to the hospital. It was a dark raining night, although it’s only the 9th of October, but it was raining and I can still smell the first rain. We ran to the 4th floor because the electricity went off. Baba was talking to my aunt when I slipped in and started jumping: “my mom is delivering; my mom is giving birth.. Is this gas lamp hot? Let me see, yes it is…” I touched it with my index finger. I now have a 24 year old scar; I have Loulou on my index.
Seven years in Dubai I had Loulou on my index, but now Loulou is here with me, and I’m the happiest person on earth, and when he’ll find a job, I’ll be the happiest person on earth forever and ever…
She thought that stopping the pills that were killing her and ruining her life and her family’s life for up to six month is safe; she’s been on those pills for more than six years. She thought that she was too old to have a third kid, oh my god she was 27, how can she get pregnant again, it’s dangerous (yes it’s twenty seven, not thirty seven, not forty seven, she was twenty seven…) But that was god’s will.
For nine months he was called Samer, for my bother’s best friend - who happens to be my best twins-friends’ (Soha and Souzane) brother - his name was Samer. Her name was Injie, since my mom and I were real fond of that name. Injie never made it out of my imagination, while Samer stepped back when khalo Mohammed suggested the name Walid. As if Walid talked to us in the hospital and said, I’m not Samer, I’m Walid.
It has been 24 years and I still remember that day as if it was yesterday. She was obsessed by the cleanliness of her house: who else could clean her house? She will be away for a day and might not be able to clean for 3 to 4 days. Being an eight years old, I didn’t think of that….. She was in labor but still had to clean the house and do the laundry. You know, I always thought that she was very beautiful, but that day she was glowing. I was running after her giving her the laundry to put it on the rope: “quickly, quickly roro, yalla habibti yalla”. My brother and I were traumatized but she was full of energy. When she was cleaning the bathroom she almost delivered, but no, she won’t do it before she’s fully ready. I ran with her to bedroom, took her towel and gave her the clothes. Oh how I love her pregnancy dress fuchsia kinda silk with small violet flowers. Don’t be fooled with how I used to fight with her and talk back at her and give her attitude, she was my goddess. Baba dropped us at khalo’s place and ran to the hospital. It was a dark raining night, although it’s only the 9th of October, but it was raining and I can still smell the first rain. We ran to the 4th floor because the electricity went off. Baba was talking to my aunt when I slipped in and started jumping: “my mom is delivering; my mom is giving birth.. Is this gas lamp hot? Let me see, yes it is…” I touched it with my index finger. I now have a 24 year old scar; I have Loulou on my index.
Seven years in Dubai I had Loulou on my index, but now Loulou is here with me, and I’m the happiest person on earth, and when he’ll find a job, I’ll be the happiest person on earth forever and ever…
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