It all started with a book - My journey to Kurdistan

"But really Zim, out of all the countries in the world, why did you choose THAT one?", she said.

"Say what, where, how... hold up, where are you exactly?", he gasped. 

"They are dropping bombs in there. Really Zim, you don't have to be a soldier. Just come back. Why on earth would you even.. and your daughter? How is she dealing with the chaos?, she shouted.

"It is the money, isn't it? Don't be a sell out. Come back home.", she quietly wondered. 

These are all the extract from chaotic conversation that are often in English, but somewhere we miss each other because of the words "Iraq" or "Kurdistan" get thrown in the air. The same air that was so curious would be filled with ignorant anxiety, amazement, and pure fear. I even sometimes question myself whether me ending up in Kurdistan was a mental choice or just part of my very unpredictable part of life's journey.
In the same breath, I don't think anyone would believe me that all of this, this scary but real thing called Kurdistan started in 2007 with a novel. A novel that was so powerful that ripped the threats of my hearts and fed my soul to the point that I would end up here;here in Kurdistan. I don't remember speaking to the universe about it, but I remember the words of the writer unlocking tremendous curiosity about Halabja, the death of women, men, and children, the sun finally rising over the Kurdish mountains. However, once I finished that book, I gave it back to whomever I borrowed it from, and never looked back. I thought about Kurdistan a few times, however, I didn't hover over it. Let me say, I didn't know that something in me could've added that part to my life.
I continued living my life in Saudi, very rigid, but peaceful. Then my something called marriage occurred, and that is where all of the pieces of the puzzle started to fit. I remember, it was about a few days before I got married, my husband who was at that time completing his PhD shared his great news. He got a job offer in Iraq. My first thought was "Okay, Iraq! What? Couldn't you get a job in Turkey...where you are from?" Somehow his words beguiled me of how wonderful Iraq would be that I agreed. Yes, if you know me well, it takes me a long time to agree to something I find foolish. But this was different. I was getting married, and my husband got a job in Iraq, and as a loyal wife, I had to suck it up, throw Saudi away and move to Iraq. My last plane trip from Saudi felt surreal but at the same time complete. I remember handing in my residency card,and in the 3 years I had been in Saudi, it was the first time the passport control police ever spoke to me.
"You are leaving Saudi?", he asked.
"Yes". I softly said under my niqab.
"Thank you for teaching our students, and please come back again. We need you.", he uttered so peacefully.
In my mind all I could think of was that I am finally saying goodbye. Tears stained my niqab as I was really sad to leave.Leaving my Saudi girls behind was too much to bear.  The thing is, no one understands that once you leave Saudi, you pretty much leave its people behind. It isn't easy to say, "We will meet up again." It doesn't happen that way in that quiet country.
On the plane, my heart didn't complain and my mind was at ease. Iraq will be part of my daily vocabulary now. All I was upset about was that I hadn't registered on the website for South Africans abroad so that in case something happened, my country could drag my ass back to Africa. The only comfort for me during my flight from Saudi to Iraq was that I knew my husband would be there, waiting for me.
Once I arrived at the tiny Suli airport, I didn't recognize the faces. I wasn't sure what I was staring at. They looked slightly Turkish....,  Where are the niqabs? Where are the hijabi? Why aren't the men wearing "thobes". Where the fuck am I ?
I only realized where I was when the passport control guy said "Welcome to Kurdistan." I wanted to argue that the visa said something else, but I decided to take his word for it. While holding my abaya and finally taking off my niqab, I thought to myself "Seriously Kurdistan. Oh well I guess Kurdistan, we meet each other after all even though I never imagined to. Who are you? How did this happen? My mind was having an awkward conversation with itself, and at the same time, my heart was just relieved that I would see a familiar face again.
On the long ride to my new unknown home, it was dark, so I couldn't figure out this city's face. I didn't have a clear picture of what I really got myself into or I wasn't even sure that I wanted to know. All I know is that I couldn't believe that I was actually in Kurdistan. Mind you at this time, I didn't remember the novel I had read.  Only a few days later, the university my husband was teaching at was planning a trip to Halabja to visit the museum and the monument.  Still at this point, I didn't think that this was already spoken into my life.
While I was still unpacking some of my clothes and belongings from Saudi, I found my diary. I read some parts of it and saw the entry of the book "Love in a Torn Land".  My heart sank as I read the entire entry. There was one sentence in there that finally made sense of this madness.  "Lord, I know you are there. Take me to this place one day so that I can meet this nation, so that I can too feel their pain of loss and war.Indeed we have a lot in common" Instead of me staring at the pages, they were staring back at me. Almost saying, "What did you expect to happen if you are going to ask the universe about such things?"
At that very moment, I understood two things that were true. 1. What you speak to the universe eventually does come back to you. It only has its own way and time of getting back.  2.The universe listens. It listens to the quiet ones. The ones that express themselves without words.
These four  years have been bitter sweet in every way. From people staring at me as if I am some voodoo doll, not to mention people being crazy about Nelson Mandela, but at the same time being unaware that he was black.  Yes, black people exist...just like Barak Obama....and all the others that you listen to on your hip hop radio. I don't think I will ever get used to the staring. Wait, I think it is safe to say that NO ONE ever gets use to being stared at. It is something I understand but not use to.
There is so much I want to purge, but I am afraid that I will get scared of my own words.  From the summer heat sinking into my skin, dry faces, the smell of dust while it settles on every bit of hope to the crisp winter morning air, the water that has no mercy and gorgeous people, it is hard to write all I see in this land. From times that I be like " I am not putting my foot on the plane" to the times I be like "shit, I miss home. Yes, Kurdistan is my home and I MISS IT"

It has been a blessing never a curse being here. I take the sour with the sweet in every way. I know I am meant to be here. The journey has been crazy, but so beautiful because I would've never dreamed or thought of making it this far. I love it.
 The idea of Kurdistan being a country is becoming more and more of a reality or a dreaming coming true as the chaos rises and falls. I am blessed being part of it, and I have managed to take the good for what it is.
One part of me is pretty much angry at myself for not have invested more time in learning the language and really getting into the depth of the culture.  I'm furious with myself for not keeping track of my own emotions and just being a ghost here; preoccupied with my own bullshit that I  missed many beautiful events that have surrounded me.
However, I am here now. That is all that mattes...

Rumi

ps: If you ask me to sum up Kurdistan. I don't think anyone can. You got to be here to understand it, see it, and live it.

You marry his culture, his family, and then him.

One thing that I thought was a cliché was the constant uttering of: "when you marry someone from a different culture, you marry their culture then their family and then them."Yip, that was the advice in that obscure but very real order. Even after almost 3 years of marriage, 6 years of learning the Turkish culture and language, I can't help to think that I am still on the periphery.  Especially after these holidays, I got a clear view ; not a glimpse, but a clear view of how complex inter cultural marriages are, especially when culture is the centre of it all. Please don't get me wrong; I am not the slightest torn about this observation; I'm actually very pleased and somewhat safe having one foot in and the other lingering back and forth in  my cultural heritage.  I'm pleased because I have the comfort of the love from my Turkish side, yet I have enough distance to see things for what they are. While others go back and forth on subjects of discomfort, I can easily take a step back without awkwardness to share my thoughts or to simply stay out of it.
Yes, the advice that was given to me proved to be right. I married my husband first and loved him first, but to completely understand where some agreements and disagreements come from, I had to marry his culture first in my own time. Cause within a culture, there is family culture too which is far more important than the shallow general cultural that people could possibly share. That takes a lot of work.
Luckily, I was already into the Turkish culture before, so whatever learning that took place didn't come with difficulty.
Secondly, marrying the family was another big step. The moment you realize that your husband/wife actually has parents that also have their sets of beliefs and traditions with the odd brother or sister here and there. BY far this part of learning in an inter cultural marriage is the most entertaining. Entertaining from a fence sitting position, but can be exclusive as it is assumed that I am foreign; therefore, I don't know how to prepare meals or even know  how to deal with certain things in a "Turkish" way....OR any way that is expected from a native to be known. For example, I wasn't allowed to wash dishes even though that is my menial job at home. Yes, the pressure of cleaning was taken off my shoulders, but at the same time it made me feel different or special which was not what I wanted. To be part of something, I have to participate in the daily affairs. So, by simply washing dishes or even serving others made me feel part of things. So in this holiday, I insisted to help cook, help take care of my nieces and nephews, fetch the water, and lay out the table because it gave me a sense of belonging ; a sense of " you are part of us; not different at all".

Finally,   marrying my husband again and again and again. The best part of an intercultural marriage is that there is so much to teach and learn. Not just learning of what is on the surface of how our cultures meet, but the deep elements of what can either set you apart of keep your marriage strong. The best element we share is the importance of the gender role we both understand from our backgrounds. I love being a wife and a mom, so I don't like him getting in the way of that. As a mom, I feel I am the engineer of how my home runs and functions, and I wouldn't deal with having a man tell me how to run it. On the other hand, he is the engineer that maintains the home, making sure it keeps running. I like that these roles are clear and each person contributes their best attitude and character every time.
One more thing I am grateful for is that we both appreciate distance from our families. If it is any advice I can give anyone is, when you get married, move far away from your parents and his /her parents. The distance sounds a bit scary in the beginning, but it is that distance that will save you. The distance allows you as a person to seek comfort in your partner and not to run to your parents when things don't go your way. Secondly, the family does not mix in your business; less family, less stress.  It also stops gossip and bad mouthing your spouse.

The big question is: is it worth it to marry into another culture??? Damn straight, it is worth it. It is worth it when you really love and adore your partner, at the end it is them. It all depends how both parties make it easier or harder for one another. Yes, inter cultural relationships are hard, but they have so much joy and help you grow outside your paradigm.

Appreciate a teacher much?

This post is dedicated to all my fellow teachers that are putting in a 100% every day for the well being of their students.

I often get very upset, and I mean VERY upset when people thinking that teaching just involves treating students like your own children,  and that ANYONE  can become a teacher! Nothing is worse when everyone is standing by the buffet and run through their CVs, and when you say "I am a teacher", they give you thar "is that a job?" stare!!  That totally grates my carrot.
What is even worse ,it is when the very people you teach, don't value you as a teacher! The very people you put up with day after day, teach them new things, increase their sense of confidence, are the very people that would turn on you when they haven't put in their 100%!!  Why is there a stereotype that teachers don't matter, that our jobs can be easily done, that we couldn't cut it anywhere else and opted for teaching as our last resort??? Why??

Teaching has been a life long passion for me along with singing and writing.  Since I was a child, I have always valued my teachers and still remember them till this day. How I often hope to run into them at a super market just to relive my childhood again with them .I am sure if they had to see me now, they would be proud of the person I have become because as much as they don't realize it, they are part of  the reason why I am the way I am today.  This experience in life has motivated me even more to become a good teacher. To share all my life experiences, knowledge, and wisdom with the younger generation so that they can become responsible members of their own society.

However, in this modern day, somehow, the way we value teachers has completely changed. I always wondered why? From my own understanding it comes down to what people are taught at home.  Parents tell their children if you don't become an engineer, doctor, lawyer, physics, scientist, business man/woman, then you won't be successful in life.  So all the other job opportunities are considered "lower". Mind you, the focus is never on how that child can be fulfilled, the focus is fulfilling monetary desires. Parents are passively forcing their children to be things that they can't be.  Some children simply can't become engineers, not because they are not smart, but because math or architect are not their strongest points. People assume if you choose a career that is more in arts, you are either stupid or lazy.  They don't consider the fact that not everyone enjoys sitting in a room filled with equations and numbers. The same kind of ideology is placed on teachers.  People don't realize the skill, the knowledge, the research, and psychology that are involved in being a teacher. A good teacher at that! Parents just send their children to school hoping they develop, learn, and absorb all the education that is out there. But, who do they think is doing that job? If teaching could be done by anyone and was so easy, then I am sure homeschooling would be the norm. On top of that, they don't even say "thank you"for disciplining their kids. I mean, the child spends 6 hours away from home, who do they think educates them about life and has to put up with them?? They don't magically have discipline.

Yesterday, I had a student complaining about how their material is so difficult, and that we are asking them to do work above their means. I looked at him and said "Do you believe I know what I am doing?" He was reluctant to say "Yes".  This is like a 18 year old kid who has no idea how vast the world around him is. I said to him "I know what I am doing, and all the other teachers know what they are doing. The question is" 'Do YOU know what you're doing?'"  I didn't mean for it to be a trick question, but dear Lord he couldn't give me an answer.  This happened before he wrote his in class writing assignment.  After he wrote his assignment, it dawned upon that he finally understood that I know what I am doing. He was the only one who got an A+ for his writing assignment.  There is this idea that because teaching is not as challenging as engineering, then for sure our teachers aren't smart enough. Like for real??  When a teacher gives you homework, there is a reason for it. Not to bore your brains out, not to keep you busy, but to help you teach yourself too!  A teacher's job is not to spoon feed you, hold your hand and tell you that it will be okay. No, that is certainly not my job! A teachers's job is to show you  how you can be the best you, how to think for yourself, how to use all the knowledge you have gained and create something from it. That is OUR job!

The best part of my job, is not just prepping for class. The best part of my job is seeing my desks filled with students. I adore my students to the core.  The smart ones, the in-between ones, the slow ones, the lazy ones, the eager ones, the sleepy ones, the tired ones, the stressed ones, the angry ones, the rude ones, the polite ones, the ones that don't even know that I am their teacher after 2 weeks, the occupied ones, the restless, ones the impatient ones, the lonely ones, the active ones, the chatty ones. I LOVE THEM ALL. Why? I love them because they teach me how to be a better me every day. They teach me how life has changed, and how I can turn zeros into heros. I am pretty sure that all teachers feel this way about their students.  The best part is the last day of class, seeing the empty desks and chairs, knowing that they have succeeded, knowing that they are one more step closer in reaching their goals and dreams.

So, the next time when you see a teacher, appreciate them for having the patience, the care, knowledge, and experience in order to make you or your kids educated human beings.

Peace!

Lonely traveler. Dealing with the change while others haven't.

Today I realized that travelling can be the best thing, but also the most lonely thing ever....even when you have a million people surrounding you when you head back home.
Let me start of by saying that since I started travelling at the age of 18, I have had the most amazing experiences in my life. Most of my travelling have always been alone, no partner, no friend, just me and my bag full of diaries to record any kind of experience.  I remember travelling to Canada for the first time and spending 5 months in the most beautiful part of British Columbia. I was part of the Canada World Youth program, and pretty much all of my spiritual and emotional growth occurred there. I met a couple of amazing people, dealt with new experiences in my life, and having the chance to choose the right things for myself. I enjoyed every part of Canada. Still till this day, certain sounds, weather pattern, or a particular smell can take me back to a situation I lived through in Kelowna.
When I returned home from Canada, I was so excited to share my life changing events, tell them about my counterpart, and most all share my personal growth as a person. Don't get me wrong, everyone was very happy to see me back home, we would all hang out; however, the sadness overwhelmed me of how they were not getting any of my life changing experiences. None. Soon, everyone was back to their own routine. Could no one see the new change in me? Should I shout louder? Why aren't they getting it? I kept contemplating and wondering if anyone actually missed me or not. To fight the feeling of loneliness, I quickly got into the routine everyone else was going through, but as a person I have changed a great deal that it was hard to get back into the routine of doing the things everyone was doing. Something was off about it all.
During my studies in university, I decided to pursue my dream of seeing Turkey. I always knew that I wanted to get married to a Turk or at least live a relatively Turkish lifestyle. So, I manifested, and actually was able to save enough money to travel to Turkey. Somehow ,I met a really good Turkish person online who directed me to a Turkish family who needed someone to teach their 5 year old son some English. I immediately got in contact with the family, and we were a match made in heaven. I  was extremely open minded and free spirited that I didn't even consider the dangers of travelling to a family that I have never met before.  Soon, my bags were packed and ready to go. Once again, I had the most amazing experience in my life. The family was a dream, and still to this day, I love them like my own. I got to learn the language pretty quickly, learned the culture, and figured that this is where I need to be.  The three months in Turkey were absolutely amazing. Once again, when I was finally on my way home with bags and bags of stories and experiences, I couldn't wait to unpack my adventures of a life time and share them with all my friends. Once again, everyone was happy to see me home, but no one was really interested in understanding the personal transformation that took place in my head and heart. People just couldn't see the world through my eyes. Once again, I was extremely disoriented, I craved my sweet life in Turkey. I craved having a glass of tea and the conversations that came with it. Instead, life was bland and once again I was squeezed in this routine of life, or whatever people make life to be. This kind of devastation happened to me again when I went to Saudi, and even till this day, no matter how much I want to share my experiences of Saudi, people around me will never get it. As a traveler, you often get that special chance to see the world in a different shape, experience your growth in a different context that you can actually feel. However, that is just that, nothing more or less. The sad part is that those events can never be replicated or relived again by others, no matter how hard you to try to paint the picture.......they will never get it.  I realized that I can't blame my friends and families for not getting it. Sometimes, I feel that a lot of me is lost in these different countries, and I often return to South Africa half the person. The part I taught myself is that, when you get home, everything will be the same, your pillow, your home, the daily routine will be the same as you left it. You are the change that can't fit into that routine anymore. 

My most treasured experiences occurred in Saudi. Not many people will ever see the beauty of this country, comprehend its character, nor see the world through its eyes. I am very lucky to have seen Makkah, to have touched the Ka'aba, to have lived a good Islamic life, to have enjoyed the niqab (even though everyone looks at me crazy when I say that), to have made the best and worst decisions there, and to have soaked up the presence of Allah by its vast peaceful landscape.  I love this country even more because I really found the best sister and brother over there.  It hurts even more that I have only memories that live with me, and that the chances of seeing these people again are none. Once again resulting into the life of a lonely traveler.

I have accepted the idea that I will always be a traveler, and the sad part is that there will always be that disconnected feeling of life at times. However, my memory is my best friend, the only thing that can make those experience alive again. I don't blame my friends or people back home for not getting it. I can't get frustrated if they don't see what I have seen, or hear what I have heard.  The beauty is that as long as I know that I have grown for the best, loved the hardest, and that happiness was your force, then that is all that counts. 

Now...dealing with Iraq........

Letting your hair loose.- The life of the hijab.

It is good to write again about my experiences and journey of life and family. I actually missed the fact I would encounter some challenging situations that would test me as a person, and test my devosion to my Lord.

A few days ago, I and my fellow teachers went to do school visits. While were in the car, one of the teachers asked me a question which no one has asked me before. She said "Don't you miss letting your hair loose?". This questions was probably a response to a joke I made that I had a new hair style which no one could see since I wear hijab. Before answering that question, I took a quick trip down memory lane of how my journey was with the hijab. I took a second, and then answered her in the most honest way I possibly could. I said "actually, yes, there are times when I do miss letting my hair down, and not just literally but maybe figuratively,emotionally, and probably socially." I was grateful for her question as I realized that no one has ever asked me that question. To be as real as can be, I have never actually had a conversation with another Muslimah about the hijab and what emotional attachment or detachment we feel towards it. We all assume the same thing, we are wearing it because we want to please Allah and that is the end of the story. However, we aren't robots, we are women, a complex and complicated make of a specie that fights through emotions and various other things in life. 

When I embraced Islam, I didn't automatically pick up a scarf and cover my hair. I didn't want to. I didn't want to do something just because it is the right thing to do or because the masses are doing it. I wanted to know what it means to me , what Allah is trying to teach me through his Quran before attempting any sense of pretense. That is why, wearing the hijab now is a beautiful experience that I love because I went through my struggles with it. Hijab is not just about covering up, it is actually about being modest inside and outside. I would like to share the three parts of my journey with the hijab. 

Part 1. My beauty and the hijab.

I remembered the first time I came across the hijab, I didn't feel it at all. I bought one for the sake of at least having one when I do my prayers or attending the mosque. I stood in front of the mirror with this gorgeous bright green scarf. The moment it touched the shape of my head, I didn't like it. I felt that it was robbing a piece of my beauty, I felt awkward. I  tried putting it on in various ways to at least look modern or attractive in my eyes, but it didn't work.  So, my first relationship with my hijab was just that, only for prayer and Friday prayer, other than that it was in my closet, locked away. I didn't realize that I spiritually also locked it away. I used to pray for Allah to soften my heart and to be able to accept it and love it. Only after I spent 2 years in Saudi, where most of my spiritual growth occured, I fell in love with the hijab. Wearing the hijab in Saudi was easy, and I felt true beauty of it. I finally understood what it meant, and what it meant for me.The test was wearing it outside of Saudi. I would go to Turkey for my short holidays, and usually I wouldn't wear the hijab. However, that year of 2011 it was different. I arrived in Turkey and had no desire to take it off. I felt confident in it, and through that confidence comes with this beauty. I didn't even take my niqab off, for there was no reason for me to. I didn't even feel people's stares burning holes in me.I was truly content with whatever God threw at me. 

Part 2.  Judgement. 

One thing that I never told anyone about wearing the hijab is that it used to hurt me. In the beginning, I felt that because of this hijab, people wouldn't completely relax around me. I love being social, and I really love it when friends feel that they can be who ever they want to be around me. For some time, the more I appeared with the hijab the more distance there was between me and others. People would refrain from making bad jokes around me or being open and honest about certain things. I have always been an open person; therefore, enjoyed it when others were open to me. It was a real struggle for me being excluded from certain conversations, or people treating me like a glass, thinking that whatever they say would scratch my surface or break me into pieces. Even till this day, I often remind my friends that I am still "Zimmy", enjoys having a big fat laugh, and seeing the comedy in life. The hijab is not my identity, it is a part of my identity. Underneath my hijab, there is a person, a person that likes and dislikes certain things, a person that probably has the same hair issues as you do in the mornings, a person that hurts and laughs just like you.

Part 3. Freedom- real meaning
This is probably the struggle most ladies probably face at times. The sad thing is that we sometimes keep it locked away. Do I miss having my hair out at times? Do I miss having the sun kissing my skin? Since, I wasn't born Muslim, yes, there are times when I miss having my hair out. Not because I want to show my hair to the world, but because I miss the wind going through my hair. Yes, sometimes, I do miss wearing jeans and white short sleeve top, NOT for people, but for the sense of comfort. You might wonder, then why don't you just take it off? Be free!! Well, first of all , no one has ever forced me to wear hijab, no man, no woman, no husband, no parent has ever forced me to wear the hijab. I chose to wear it because of what it means for and my devotion to my Lord. Not even the Lord above forced me. I probably could walk outside right now with a mini skirt and hills, but I choose not to. I enjoy the freedom of wanting to cover up. I love being modest, I like the fact that it takes guts to choose to cover up and to be okay with it. Whenever I look at my mom and see how she dresses in a modest way, I feel so proud of her because of that modesty most of us have lost. So, excising my freedom to be modest is the epicenter of why I am in love with my religion.  It has liberated me from society's expectations of what a woman should be perceived as. It has liberated me, for it protects me physically, spiritually, and emotionally.

So, the hijab isn't always as easy as it seems. I will always give my thumbs up to Saudi for having gender segregation because we ladies can actually enjoy life hijabless outside of our homes because there are places for women ONLY. I think it is hard having to wear the hijab all day long because of the social situations in most countries where genders are mixed at all times. However, I think us living outside of amazing places like Saudi, get tested harder, but the rewards are higher. So, for all the ladies who are wearing hijab, I know your happy days and bad days. It is normal to go through those emotions because we are human, and Allah knows how He tests His creation. However, those days when you felt like melting inside your abaya because of heat, or those days where you just wanted your neck to feel some air, or those days when nothing in your wardrobe looks good for that scarf, DON'T ever think that you are alone. Seek Allah's favor upon you, ask for Him to make it easy on you,  and always wear it for the right reasons. 

Goodness in all that is jealous!

Now I have been in a pickle about a certain topic called Ghirah. For those that don't understand, I am happy to inform you.

The term "Ghirah", is an Arabic word which means "protectiveness", or "good jealousy".  This term infers that men should have a slight sense of jealousy towards their wives and brothers towards their sisters.
This is a very good characteristic because it protects the pride of the family and keeps the boundaries clear of what is acceptable and not acceptable.
I am completely for this because I do believe that we need to be protective towards people we love and care about.
One example a man can show his "ghirah" is by encouraging his wife to wear the hijab, to not wear clothing that can attract attention, or simply by keeping away from company with men that are not related to her.
It is actually a man's responsibility to ensure that he enforces the "hijab". Don't misread my words, not force her but enforce the hijab. So, he can tell her to wear the hijab, but if she doesn't want to wear it, it is her decision, and she will face the consequences with God.

However, my issue is that the concept and the idea of ghirah has totally been blown out of proportion to the point that it actually causes people to sin in order to uphold their "ghirah".

The following are NOT ghirah:

1. Spying/Espionage:  Some men think that it is their duty to be so protective that it leads to bad jealousy. This involves a man spying on his wife. Then in turn, these men use "ghirah" as their explanation for their actions. I do not record a hadith nor a Quranic verse that supports this. Actually, espionage is a grave sin in Islam.
I don't know how many of you feel aboud this, but I certainly know that I don't like someone spying on me. Not that I have anything to hide. Spying is a dangerous thing because it can be manipulated to fit your desired outcome. For example, you might see your wife/husband speaking to a co-worker about work; however, due to your issues you might mistaken it for him/her getting too close to someone at work.
This includes someone going to your e-mail without you even knowing it and does his research as he pleases. The reason that I have a big problem with this is; if you wish to check your partners mail, why don't you just ask them first? What is the harm in that? If you just go into someone's e-mail, maybe even an old e-mail, you ARE LOOKING TO FIND SOMETHING INCRIMINATING. If you wanted to do something that is honest, why not ask in the first place? The same way you ask before entering the bathroom, why couldn't you at least respect your spouse even to ask first.What harm is in here? By the way that kind of action is NOT "ghirah" at all.

2. Forbidding your partner to have a life.  Someone men and women take this idea of good jealousy so far that their partner can't even life the life that the dear Lord has given them. When your wife wants to join some girl friends for lunch, all of a sudden you forbid her to go because you have some notion that she might go see some man. Once again, if you have trust issues, why did you enter into marriage the first place?
Trust is something that is not just born, trust is learned and developed. Every time you suspect someone of doing something, then you have ZERO trust. I might as well tell you to throw your wedding ring down the toilet because you will never ever sleep well. You can't prevent your partner from living. If you isolate your partner from her family or even her  friends then you are doing yourself a disservice because she will hate your guts for the rest of your life. I remember that girls in Saudi had even more freedom to see their friends than some Muslims women in our countries. Why? Naturally men and women are segregated in Saudi, so there was some kind of peace of mind that girls are at their girlfriends' houses.So, why are you modern day man trippin???

3. Using force and violence. This is the worst kind of jealousy. Unfortunately this happens all the time. You have some men/women who actually force their partners to do whatever they want to do, to control them to the point that that person has no ability anymore. When these partners fail to be whatever you want them to be, you intimidate them by abusive means. If you think you are walking around with a halo like an angel, why don't you marry yourself then. I can't stand abuse, most of all I can't stand abuse that stem out of jealousy. That kind of relationship is toxic, and worst thing is that you can't change a person that is like that.

4. Leave the past in the past. I have about 6 friends that have gotten married in the past 3 years. All of them are not Muslim. They have done the worst things in their past, I mean, they were  bad ass.However, their marriages are AMAZING!!! On the other hand, I know of two of Muslim marriages where it is as stiff as starch. Here is my thinking... So, here are Muslim sisters stuck in this modern world trying their best to walk the straight path. Avoiding alcohol, wearing the hijab, perhaps she might have fallen in love at some point and didn't work out, but she still walked a straight path so that she can walk into marriage with you  STILLVa virgin, and YET you still give her a hard time of what she did in the past. Who the f@#$ are you? I don't remember an angel in heaven sending down a halo over your head.Until that day happens, stop walking on earth as if the mountains bow down to you.That is why personally I always see some Muslim relationships(NOT ALL) always in a "stress zone". People walking on egg shells the whole day, the woman can't let her hair down. You asking her to feel safe in her home, to be at her most comfortable.How can anyone feel comfortable when they are constantly put on a probation period? She even gives up her career, but still she is under suspicion She wears the hijab out of her own will because she FEARS ALLAH, but yet she is still under doubt in your eyes.   There are many, as in many Muslim brothers out there participating in bad activity, but when they are ready to marry, they want to fall into a girl's arm that has never done what they have done!! Can someone please tell me where the sense is in that? This is the one thing that annoys me big time. And society acts as if it is okay?
This part touches my heart deeply because I probably would be in the same boat. The funny thing is I remember when I was in a halaqah in my earlier days when I became Muslim and I distinctively remember one lady saying that, you shouldn't disclose information that would cause harm to you in the future. If you have sincerely repented for that action and did not repeat it, then that is between you and God. Obviously if it defaults something dire in your future then you will need to speak up, but if it doesn't cause harm then you don't have to. You have people going to Ummrah for things that they have done. And Allah gives them mercy and forgiveness for their sins. Then you will find people still questioning people's character. Who are you to question someone. Who died and made you God? No one, so stop acting that way.
This not ghirah, this is simple pride. The fact that you want to gloat and feel good about yourself. You start feeling good about yourself from yourself before moving on to people.

I wanted to cover this topic for so long because I constantly hear this "good jealousy" thing, but no  one is practicing it in the right way.
The Prophet (pbuh) never spied on his wives? He didn't go behind their backs and tried to suss out information that was irrelevant. He didn't go out and do bad things, and then expected his wives to be wonderful beings from heaven. Instead he treated them as the center of his heart. He enjoyed a good company with them. He displayed complete ghirah, by being protective of them, informing them how to dress in public.
Instead of making your partner,man or woman feeling crap, why don't you actually practice ghirah by treating her in such a way that she is blinded by your love.

Peace!

Storm 

Walking in the rain

Like your tears falling on me again

I can't seem to wipe it all away

I can't wipe the sadness of your face

My view of you is out of focus

When did my picture of us get broken?

Crashed in my heart

All into pieces that I can't collect

Cut myself while putting it all together

Bleeding from the inside nothing's forever

I can be only the frame 

The only way I know to keep me sane

Like your tears falling on me again

Soaking me from top to bottom

Wondering where are those days I blossomed

I search for myself while finding you

With it all I got bruised 

Left a mark on my soul

Lost of what I felt was my own

Gravity is holding me down 

I can't seem to rise up as I only drown

Drowning in  your tears again 

Falling on to me like heavy rain

I pray for the sun to come up 

To kiss me on the face again

The way it used to be 

The way I used to feel.

They way I was happy in me.

Baby Love

This year has flown by so fast that I sometimes feel so guilty for not keeping a diary and not jotting down all the happenings around me.

My daughter has passed her 4 month mark successfully; I can only thank Allah for that. Since the day she was born, I have been able to see life in a different light, a different sound, and from a different eye.
When I look at my daughter, I realize how precious life is, and that I shouldn't take anything for granted.
She gives me that strength when I feel like giving in, the smile when I am overwhelmed with tears, and the joy when loneliness is my best friend.

Me and my daughter have been able to grow together regardless of the separation anxiety that we both suffer from at times. Being a mom is sometimes tricky. You want to be the guardian angel that protects the household, and you still want to be that stilettos-high heels kitten that wants to make the best of life. The biggest lesson that I have learned was that to be both is possible. However, you being both will take a life time of learning.

Being a working mom is something that is easier said that done. In this post I would like to recognize all moms that are actually doing it. I also want to give thumbs up to mom that have taken the best decision to stay at home. Before I got married, I always dreamed of being a stay at home-mom. To have my eye on my kids, to be their teacher and raise them was my set goal. However, life never turns out as we plan. Due to certain circumstances, I ended up being a working mom. I am grateful that I am a working mom because I would like my daughter to know that -yes- women can work in the world, and that we should be valued. However, taking this position was the most difficult pill to swallow. I guess a lot of my stress and sadness came from the fact that I never got that 3 month maternity leave that most mommies get around the world. I only had one month to spend with my daughter before heading back to work.
On the first day of work, I remember how I cried like a baby on my way to work. I felt like I was being the worst mom in the world. I was stressed out about my child, stressed out about my milk supply and worrying how I will make it through the day. Not one minute went by without me wondering how baby Riri was doing.  As soon as the clock struck 1pm, I ran home as fast I could, so that I could see my little angel. To my surprise she was doing fine, luckily my mom was able to comfort her, and to keep the tears at a minimum.
I thought that I would be feeling this way only in the  beginning and soon, I would be able to get "used to it". However, you NEVER get "used to it". You never get used to leaving your baby, no matter how protected her environment is, or how many times you have done it, you simply never get used to it.
It was something that I had to mentally train myself that even though the separation between infant and mother is a big torture, I just had to find a way to work through it.
Here I am 4 month later, my daughter is a big bundle of love, and still I am sad leaving the house for work. Therefore, I salute the mothers that do stay at home. You are doing an awesome job, and let no one tell you any different. I envy the time that you never miss with your babies. Time is the most precious thing between a mom and a child. Time is what makes that love blossom, time is what bonds you closer and closer. Luckily I am able to make up for that time in the mornings before I go to work, and in the evenings when I come home.
One thing about being a working mom is that nothing seems impossible anymore. The idea of cooking, doing some house work, burping the baby, and still grading the exams, is a skill one can only acquire from continuous experience. Somehow when I go to bed at night, I wonder to myself "How on earth did I just manage that all?"  That is when I close my eyes and thank God for giving me that extra strength to make it through the day.

At the moment my baby is going through a transition of learning. Now, she has found her voice, and is starting to participate in daily conversations.  She enjoys screaming at her toys, and tearing mommy's hair from her skin. Her daily ritual of drooling all over my clothes is her love bite to me. She enjoys seeing bright colors, and finds the T.V the most amazing the thing in the world. She indulges in watching Al Jazeera news and watches it with a face expression that exclaims, "I know what is going on around the world."
Her cheeks are growing heavier and heavier, plum and begging to be bitten or kissed. One of the most beautiful things that she does is when she wakes up in the morning. No matter how messed up her day is, she always wakes up with a beautiful smile, ready to greet the world.

It has been a long road, but a blessed road for sure. With all the drama going about in our live,s we have managed to come this far. I was even suffering from low milk supply, and somehow, here I am 4 months later still providing my baby with my milk. God is indeed our guardian, protector, and watches over us. I am truly blessed for having these experiences in my life.

So, to all mommies that are struggling to make it through , don't worry your prayers are being heard. You are doing an awesome job, and don't give in. I am able to appreciate my mom more now that I am a mom. I can finally understand how much she loves me, now that I can experience that love with my daughter.
A mother's love is near to God's love, unconditional and merciful.

Peace!

Motherhood- Life at its greatest

Someone once told me that once you become a mother, you have the ability to fall in love unconditionally, therefore understanding God's love.
Indeed, as those words echo in my memory, each day is a true revelation that love can be unconditional, you can love a "stranger".
The journey of motherhood has taught me many things, and each day is a learning curb. The last couple of weeks, I have seen my daughter grow, developing her mind, her sight and sound. Each day there is something new to discover about her. The past few days she has been suffering from constipation, therefore each day I had to massage  her tummy, roll her legs up and down so that she can do her business. It is funny how a mom can get excited from the sight of  her child's poo. Yes, motherhood is also about getting excited about the things that can make anyone cringe.
I'm sure there are a lot of mothers out there that can identify with the fact that your life is never the same again once you have a little one at home.  I can never forget the day of giving birth to my little one,  and the moment I laid eyes on her, I imprinted in her. When she came out of me, and I got the chance to hold her, her body was the right temperature. I will never forget how her eyes locked into mine and her cute hands slightly covering her face.  That day when I brought her home, our lives changed. You truly learn the meaning of what it is like to live for someone else. I think a lot of mom's can agree that motherhood change 3 different things about your life.
1. Sleep is never the same again!  Yes, the funny thing is I thought I would be so exhausted,  that I wouldn't be able to dedicate my time towards other things. However, a baby just changes your lazy ass to being an-alert-on-the-clock-ass. I religiously wake up at 3 am and 5 am with no sweat.  The idea of being in a deep sleep doesn't exist either. Any slight "sigh", "mm", cry or a whim makes me run out of bed to check on my little one.
2.  It is not about you anymore.  A lot of women might think that after pregnancy, they can finally go back to what things used to be..especially with the body. Not so much. After pregnancy and birth, you will need to feed the new person in your life. If you want to breastfeed, you will need to eat a lot and forget about the superficial elements we embrace.  I am one of those unfortunate ones that weren't  blessed with a high inventory of breast milk. So it is my job to eat as much as I can, drink as much as I can in order to keep that milk supply up. What does that mean for the figure?? Well, my body is on hold until 6 months,, for now it is about the love of my life growing healthy. Your time and energy is not about you anymore. My baby's life doesn't revolve around my schedule, instead, my life (if any left) revolves around her. I never thought that going to a restaurant can be such a big planning ordeal.  Feed her before hand, burp her, change diaper, rock her to sleep......deep sleep and then go to the restaurant.

3. Motherhood is very different from fatherhood.  A lot of women get frustrated with their partners during pregnancy, because they can't identify with anything they are going through. Men can't help it.  They aren't as emotional, they don't have to carry someone for 9 months and at the same time going through that journey. So, by the time birth hits and you are hoping that he will finally understand, but no, they don't. Or let me not be cruel... maybe they do, but we expect them to feel the same way we do.  My husband is totally in love with our daughter, really loves her so much. However, like during pregnancy, their attachment to the actual situation is very different, which can be frustrating at times. I discovered that it is frustrating for me, because I am expecting him to be all motherly, which is impossible.

One thing that I learned about motherhood is love for all children. Loving ones own only expands the love for others as well.  Children are precious and should be loved and protected by us all. When I see a child going through some kind of grief, I can't help myself wanting to help or even feeling some kind of sadness.
Motherhood is a gift and not a burden. It is an honor and not a punishment. The more we can try and see life through a mother's eyes, the better we can understand each other and treat each other with unconditional love and kindness.

Picture Perfect - Mommy and baby

I have always been obsessed with pictures of mother and baby animal pictures. I think animals have the same emotions and affections as we do. I recently watched an elephant giving birth to her baby. After the baby came out, he/she was lying lifeless on the floor. The mom elephant got freaked out,  and she started moving her baby around to get it to wake up.  The mom proceeded to wrap her trunk around her baby's trunk and pulled the baby's head up. This movement somehow opened the airways for the baby. Suddenly the baby took its first breath, freaked out, eyes moving around. Soon the baby was on its feet next to his mom.

After watching this video clip tears were streaming down my face at how a mom, any mom has the instinct to help her young, whether an animal or not. It makes you think that life is so much more than what our naked eyes can see.

I collected these pictures, because they resemble life and unity between a mom and her young. As usual.....the fathers are not featured :)lol!

Our love can't be measured nor it's height be taken.

Mommy's love is always a wet kiss on the face. 

Each day is an adventure of learning. 

Happiness is you! 

I'm just comfy where I am. 

We all need a little push sometimes. 

There is always enough love in my heart for all of you. 

Pregnancy Bliss

Nothing gives you a reality check than being pregnant. Yes, I said it! Yes, I am almost 5 months pregnant , and life is peachy.
Being pregnant has been a journey that is so different to anything that I have experienced. It is as if God is so much there, and you are so much aware of His presence.
The best thing about pregnancy is really falling in love with the little one. No one knows how powerful that love is. I have to say, NOW I know what my mom's love feels like towards me. Every change, every moment alarms you in such away that you end up being stressed 24/7 about this little one.
The best thing about my little one is that he/she pretty much wakes up when I wake. Whenever I take a small rest between classes, she always gives me a slight kick to say "Good job mom. Teach these kids a lesson." So, being an expecting mom has so much emotional impact on the way you perceive life, live life, and understanding life.

Even though pregnancy is the most phenomenal thing that can happen to a woman, it can also be the hardest thing to digest. If pregnancy was a walk in a park, I am sure all women would like to pregnant every day all day. However, life isn't as simple as that. People often expect pregnant women to be wide eyed happy about every single day in their lives. People think we go to bed besides ourselves happy and wake freaking excited about everything!!! YEAAHH!! Not so much. The worst, is when we don't seem so over excited about things,  people start to think that we are either very regretful or blame the child. God forbid!!
 Let me just give a taste of what goes on in a pregnant woman's daily life.

First few weeks when she found she was pregnant she was probably so scared that she ended up crying alone in the bathroom. You didn't even notice that.
There was no break between understanding what just happened and the sudden rush of hormones that completely took over her life.  You didn't even notice that too.
She feels sick every morning. The sickness gets so bad that she eventually gets use to it. She tries to snack on things to keep the nausea down. Not once did she blame the baby or God on that. You didn't even notice.
Her footsteps are more careful. She starts to think differently, it is not just about her anymore. So she doesn't take the short cuts in life anymore. She doesn't walk on wet floors in case she slips, she checks out the traffic thoroughly before crossing the streets. You still didn't notice.
Even though she is going through the sickness and not being able to keep food down, she worries for her little one, she wants to get all the nutrients in her body for the sake of the child. She moves away from those that smoke around her, she actually ends up shouting at the smokers. How dare they!! You still didn't notice.

She still behaves like a professional woman. Regardless of the sickness, the back ache, the swollen feet, the head aches, the bleeding nose, the rapid weight gain, she STILL gets up and goes to work. At work she literally keeps her hormones down so that she doesn't shoot people. She works a full day, goes home and cooks, washes things, cares for the ones around her. You didn't bother to notice.
She goes to work even though her status is ranked so high by God where she doesn't have to carry such a burden on her, where paradise is at her feet. Yet, she still does her duty, helping those around her.
She looks at herself in the mirrors, she looks at he bump and is overwhelmed with joy, at the same time she bursts into tears as her body is transforming into something that she isn't use to. She sucks it up when people comment on her weight gain, when people call her too big for the month or when people make her feel larger than life. You still didn't notice.
She sacrifices her wants, puts her ambitions on hold for the sake of the child. Everything that she pursues change direction as she includes her little one in everything that she plans.  You still didn't notice.

So a pregnant woman goes through a lot, puts up with a lot and has to deal with a lot. Yet, you didn't notice any of the hardship she endures.   Image you having a gas problem, urine problem, headache, stretching joints, aching feet and heartburn all at the same time, I don't think you would be happy all the time.  There is this illusion that pregnancy is full of pink and beautiful colors  Yes, part of it is beautiful but there is a great part where it is not so beautiful. The best you can do is to make her feel good, to make her feel that she is not going through it all alone.
So when you do see a cranky pregnant woman, try to be understanding. Who knows the baby could be sitting on her bladder and all she wants is just some relief.

Want to go back to Saudi.

It has taken me a long while to actually get down and dirty and start writing about certain issues that I have been coming across.

One of my major issues was religion. I don't like that word, for it puts you in a box. So, he does this and that, goes to this mosque and that mosque, eats like this and that.....so he has to be "religious".
We wear this "religious" cape as a form of identity, expecting those around us to put us in a box. For me there is no such thing as religion, there is only a way of life....a deen.

Since I left Saudi Arabia, it has been hard for me to keep the abundance of blessing I got from Saudi. You are wondering, how hard is it to keep a blessing?  Well, the fact that at some point in my life I got up with a hungry heart, to pray and to read Surah Al Yasin every morning. The fact that, a Friday for me was a day to really look forward to from doing my Fajr pray as soon as I heard the Azan(Athan) and proceeding it with prayers and reading Surah Al Kahaf. The fact the abundance of blessings were things that I never had to worry about that are now becoming a stressful chore. How I enjoyed that my life was running according to the schedule of the prayers.  How amazing it was to be dressed in an abaya and going to school to take it off  because I COULD take it off and being surrounded by many ladies. The blessing of never having to worry about being accused of any crimes, because as life was "restricted", it was hard to fall into any traps nor were there any traps! Life was an absolute blessing.

Especially today I felt more and more depressed of what I was deeply afraid of ! This so called Freedom in this part of the world, which actually is more like a prison.
I miss feeling super beautiful at school, because in Saudi I could feel like that, because they actually gave us school just for girls. A place any woman could feel like a woman. No pretense, no hang ups, not wearing nasty clothes that are actually a burden. Not spending time wondering "Am I looking covered up enough." I am tired of hearing "Your boob is almost showing." I never had to hear that.
The funny thing is, even if I could wear an abaya, it would be like death roe, people staring, pointing and I am sure I wouldn't be allowed to enter the gates of my school if I ever had to rock up with an abaya and a niqab.

You are probably thinking that I am super crazy for even mentioning this. However, I think that some girl out there would probably feel the same as me.
I think I am at the point where I would take the first plane to Saudi back just to have a peace of mind.

Even today I was thinking of one the days that me and my friend decided to gate crash a wedding. It was one of the coolest events in Saudi for me. The fact that we didn't have to worry about any dudes hanging around, because it was a place ONLY  for girls.

Now, I am appreciating Saudi in my memories. I appreciate I could live a complete Islamic life. Because my surrounding were so well conditions, it was inevitable that it encouraged me to do more worshiping to my Lord, to visit our Holy City, to be near Muslims, to enjoy the sound of the Athan from a distance and to be stricken with peace in all directions.

However, I can't give up. I simply can't. I think my inner jihad is more alive now that it has been before. I think my battles will only get harder from this day on. All I can do is grasp every courage I have and try to do my best to abide by the laws, even if they are a tad harder.

It is funny, I am living in a predominately Islamic country, but I feel that Islam is further away.
People argue about things that don't have a basis for an argument. For example, I know and it is written in the Holy Quran that everyone should take the name of their real father, even if he/she is adopted. As a Muslim I want to honor that law by keeping the name of my father, but some people still want to argue about that. I didn't know that the Quran was arguable if you were a believer. We might as well argue the 5 daily prayers, or giving zakat or fasting. However, it proved to me one thing, it proved to me that, even if a society decided something that is wrong, you don't have to agree nor follow it. For the sake of what? It also raised the question up of, who are trying to please? The people, the families or are you trying to please Allah. You can please them on earth, but I don't think it will be the case in the Hereafter.

So that is my moaning and groaning for the day.

I want to tear my hair out and crawl under a rock for a whole week.

Peace!

No Ma'am!

So, it has been about 10 days since I left Saudi and I am pretty much going through a major transition in my life.

One thing I love and hate is change. I love change because it is part of life, part of nature and it is inevitable. However, I also do hate change sometimes, because it kills the comfort zone that I set up and gotten used to. None the less, I choose the embrace change instead of fighting.

I can't exactly say where in the middle east I am, but I am in a place where there are no black people. Literally I am the only black person I have seen so far. I better become my own best friend.
I think it takes a tough person to really go through what I have been going through. Luckily Turkey has given me some years of practice of how to deal with people that have never seen black people before.
However, the folks on this side of life are pretty intense. For example, today we went to buy some bread and two kids were in the same store as me. The moment the one blonde headed kid laid his eyes on me, he literally stared a hole in my forehead. He even made it a point to come as close to me as possible just to make sure that he is INDEED looking at a black person.
Little things like shopping is such a big deal, because I am conscious of myself and most of all I can't be left in peace. It is one thing if someone looks at you and then moves on, but when people stare, it makes me want to jump outside my skin and slap them all.
The one thing that runs through my mind is the fact that I am shocked that they are shocked. I mean it is year 2013 and you tell me that people have never seen African folks. We are not a novelty I promise you that much!!!
I guess that is why I am having a real difficult time liking this place. People aren't racist at all, please don't get me wrong.......but I can't stand being stared at or eyed from every corner!

Anyhow, being black is one of the smallest problems I have. My one major problem is that I have never struggled so hard to understand a culture or a group of people as much as I am struggling now. I am not sure if it is the fact that I don't understand the language or whether the lack of history I know. However, when I was in Saudi, I also didn't know the langauge at first, but I understood the people in less than a week.
This feeling of not know much about this part of the world does freak me out a great deal. I mean, as it seems that it is 99% Muslims, but 2 nights ago, it didn't sound like very Muslim. Even in South Africa we don't celebrate New Years so hard. These people party hard I guess.
Anyhow I am struggling to settle in and find myself just wanting to stay in doors. Which is sooo not like me!!!

The new journey has proven to me that life is indeed full of twists and turns and you never know what you will get in life. Sometimes I think we should stop planning and just live. Why? It is the best way to suprise yourself of what you can achieve in a small amount of time.

I am still teaching which is amazing. I love teaching, I am good at it and I am really good being in the class room. The only strange thing or the one thing I was really nervous about was teaching male students. I have been in Saudi for 3 years, being exposed to girls only. Knowing how girls are, their behaviour and reaction and their efforts in class was a breeze for me. Now, it is a bit different. My first day in class here was a bit nerve wrecking, because I know how boy students often like to joke around, being disruptive and constantly challanging their boundaries in learning.  They have been extremely respectful though, really enjoying being disciplined and guided in the correct direction.  I am curious how it will all turn out. They are lovely students and the girls are super smart and sweet. They always make the lesson so sweet.

Besides that I just want to crawl in a hole for a while and pass out. It has just been so emotional and a rollercoaster of a few days.  I would like to find a nice hobbie for myself to keep my mind of the change. I'd like to attend langauge classes or even go to the local gym. However, I don't know how things work here and it is frustrating. Even the roads don't make sense here!!!

Anyhow, that is a little update about me.
Ciao!

The Most Embarrassing Thing Happened To Me in Saudi

Omg!! That is all I can say after the events that just took place about 5 minutes ago! I think I would like the world to swallow me whole and cover me up with the ashes of the dead....that is how worthless  I  feel right now. I am not exactly sure if I want to cry or just crawl up and die.

So I  have been really busy today, cleaning up and packing up right. I decided that after Isha I will head down to the Sook (Market) to go sell my gold ring.  So, I asked the hotel to ring up a driver for me.  So they did. The driver took me to the sook and I told him I  will call him as soon as I was done.
Very sure of myself, I went to the little gold shop to sell my ring.  I originally bought that gold ring for 800 Riyals and thought that I might sell it, if lucky for 650 and not backing down.  However, the gentleman told me he will buy it from me for 700 Riyals. I was very happy with his decision. However this is where the catastrophe started. He asked for my Iqama (ID number). Now, being the smart person I am,  I didn't think I will need my Iqama (ID) to actually sell a ring. However I needed one. So, I told him I have it at my house and I will come back as soon as possible. He agreed.

So, I head down to the little supermarket to buy some phone credit as I initially didn't have. I needed to get phone credit to call the driver again to come pick me up. I got the phone credit then BAMM!! Another problem!! The new system in Saudi needs a person to type in the Iqama number plus the voucher number in the phone to load up the credit!! That is when I was starting to shit bricks.
Soon, I thought of plan B, I know that I sent my Iqama number to this service through SMS and I could just look it up on my phone. I looked up and looked up and couldn't find it. Then I remember that I delete service messages on my phone!! Then my world slowly started crumbling down.

I was standing by the exit of sook, frantically looking in my bag for anything that had my Iqama number on it so that I can get the credit loaded to call my driver. Then BAMM!!! Again, another problem!! I cleaned out my bag earlier today! So, my passport, my photocopies of my Iqama were at home!  All I could think of what "Dear Lord from heaven above, please don't let me walk in the middle of the night back home."  However, it was the only option I had.  Who was I going to ask to to get me home? In Saudi you can't just rock up at some family and bum off a ride...especially of the fact that I am a woman!!

So, I told myself "Zimmy just calm down, we will figure something out." So, plan C, came to mind. I can walk up to that pharmacy and ask the cashier to call my driver for me. So I started walking, however I wasn't wearing the right abaya at the right time. The wind was ballistic. The worst thing that I ever dreamed of happening to me in Saudi, actually happened. Due to the hectic wind, my abaya split open!!! YES MY ABAYA ACTUALLY SPLIT OPEN!!   Holding my bag in one hand and a shopping bag in the other, I tried my  best to grab my abaya shut. I tried dropping my bags and buttoning the abaya back up. However, I couldn't do it fast enough. About 5 cars drove pass me, hooting, shouting and all that could come out of my mouth was "Oh my God, Ya Rab, Ya Rab, Ya Rab" I have never been so embarrassed in my life before!!! NEVER!!  I was also wearing colorful pants pajamas and it wasn't hard seeing it. I eventually dropped my bags, quickly buttoned myself up by the street side. Another embarrassing thing!! As a woman in Saudi you never stop by the street side!!! NEVER!! It is like apocalyptic will happen if you ever do. Just keep walking.

So, eventually I got myself together, walked as fast as I could while shouting "Oh my God, help me". Then the worst thing happened. As I was about to cross the street, the ring that I wanted to sell was on my middle right hand finger, and I forgot that my fingers are super skinny now, they can't hold that ring in. As I was crossing the street, the ring literally slipped out and fell on that main road. I wanted to stop for a second to pick it up. However, all the cars were coming at a full speed. I stood by the side, waited for them to clear so that I can run back and look for my ring. I looked and looked and couldn't find it.  I went back in to the middle of the street to look, but then another car came and hooted and clearly the person driving the car wondered "what on earth is this woman doing in the middle of the road late at night ALONE???"  My heart was in small pieces as I tried piercing my eyes to find it.
I eventually quickly ran into the pharmacy and begged the guy to call my driver. He could see that I was ready  to cry. . He peacefully passed the phone over and let me call my driver. Luckily  my driver came soon to take my sad ass back home. I told him that I lost my ring in the road and he kindly tried looking for it, he found another Egyptian to help him look for it. He told me , if they find it they will call me! For that split second I didn't care about the ring as much as I cared of how embarrassed I felt in less than 10 minutes. I looked at my hands and was just happy that it wasn't my wedding ring that fell. Because my wedding ring is priceless piece of gift, it could never be bought or sold nor its worth be determined  Besides that I think my husband would eat me up if I ever had to lose my wedding ring. :)  Alhamdulilah.

Now I am home, safely in my house. I can't believe that just happened to me!! I wonder if it has ever happened to a Saudi girl? Has a Saudi girl's abaya ever just ripped open in public? If so, what did she do? All I could think of was just asking the world to split open so that I could jump in it bury me!!

I'm just glad nothing happened to me. No religious police came, no one attacked me. Alhamdullilah!! As for the ring, sad that it is gone, but happy that I didn't lose my dignity with it!

ps: Isn't it funny when these moment happen to you, all  you want to do is cry and call your mom.

She Endures. A tribute To Women

I was reading my favourite book by Khaled Hosseini called "A thousand Splendid Suns". By far this is my favourite book and my favourite author.
I was intrigued by Khalid's writing style, his ability to make the words come alive and inspire your imagination as you read. His writing is unpredictable, full of drama, love, hurt and survival. I can't explain how much he has inspired my own writing of poetry and short stories.
One passage that stood out for me in this book is where he vividly describes Miriam's suffrage and endurance by the words of her own mother.
                                " She remembered Nana's saying once that each snowflake was a sigh heaved by an 
                                   aggrieved woman somewhere in the world. That all the sighs drifted up the sky 
                                  gathered into clouds, that broke into tiny pieces that silently fell on the people 
                                  below.As a reminder of people like us suffer, she said. How quietly we endure all
                                   that falls upon us". 


I lived this moment when I went to town to do shopping and I saw a woman covered in her abaya and niqabi holding her tiny baby, sitting by the entrance of the supermarket begging for money or food for the little one.  Quietly she endures all that fell upon her with the baby in her hand. Not much as a cry came out.
I looked at this live painting in front of me and wondered whether life was cruel, bitter-sweet in its own concept. Or is it simply a test to see how far we are willing to go for survival. Either way, the image is still stuck in my head and presses deeply in my eyes where I can't hold my own tears back.

I sometimes reflect in my own life and wondered whether I have been tainted in such a way where I also keep my silence and quietly endure. As I back track, I surely see, that I also at some point have endured, still enduring.  I don't think women in general can ever stop enduring. It is the only strength we have been given. Some of us seem to bite through it and some of us believe that even death is better than the agony it brings.  This inspired me to read about the women of the world. Famous women, rich women, progressive women and most of all ordinary women.  No matter of our paths  no matter of our experiences, we all eventually meet at the same cross road called "woman" and somehow most of us choose the path of endurance. It isn't a sign of weakness nor a sign of submissiveness. I would treat it as sign of internal strength, perfect love and sometimes with in our own pain we discover some happiness, some kind of bliss.

There fore I was pretty much inspired to write this short poem as a symbol of strength and love for all women.

Silent she is 

Whether she is as dark as night 

Or as pale as day light

Her identity doesn't lie on her skin 

Everything she is, she keeps it within.

For every tear that she cries

An angel quietly sits by her side

The best of comforts that she may find

Her love is like a well that never runs dry 

Or her love is never thirsty, never less than life

With the weight of expectation on her shoulder

A baby, a child or a father's daughter.

With all the worries in her eyes as she gets older

A girl, a woman, a bride and later a mother

Like her body changes, her mind changes too

If you look deep inside you might discover the truth

That she also, has dreams at night, hopes in the day

That she too, has wisdom, religion and hunger to pray 

That one day her silence will not go in vain

That she can get happiness that's smothered in pain

And yet you sell, trade, dispose her honor only for the world's price.

Which isn't even high, to the point she  wishes to die.

Whether in a her veil, her covering you might not see her eyes.

Ask yourself if she dead or is she even alive

She might be walking, but her heart might have stopped beating

Like a dead man walking no direction of being

So one day when you see her in her fullest of bliss

Ask Who she is rather that what she is

You won't hear a cry, a sigh or a scream

That's how silent she is. 

Some things are better left gone.

Some times it is better to express one in poetry, because the naked words are sometimes not enough.

Paper has always been my canvas to paint the picture of my mind, make the outlines of my heart and finding the niche of my thoughts.

Some things are better  left gone. 

Never thought it would be so easy to move on,

but some things are better left gone.

Now that I am carving the road on my own

Testing every part of me, my feet are firm on the ground

You were everything to me, you were my laughter

You made somethings easy and time for us didn't matter. 

But you crippled me with your words

Blind whispers of what the wind heard.

Like a sharp knife coming back at me

I was blinded! Your betrayal I didn't see

But we are grown and strong

some things are better left gone

Photographed pictures in my head of what we used to be

Like Bonny and Clyde, we were a mean team

You were my ying and I was your yang

That's why this ending is more than just sad.

You left not a smile but one big frown

How could you even kick me while I was down

The one person I thought had my best interest at heart.

Instead, it was the one person that ripped me apart. 

I would fight for you , for you to come back

But the friendship already took everything I had.

You took the memories and all that I had.

It was okay, until you sold the good for the bad 

I can't find the tune, the harmony to even morn our song

but some things are better left gone 

You took the innocents away when you created a crack

A crack in my trust of others, a crack of doubting all I had

Don't get me wrong I only wish you a pleasant life

Where you can sell the anger for a bit of a smile. 

Where you can taste the sun on your lips 

Where you can let go of this negative grip.

As for you and me being one solid song

i'm afraid some things are better left gone 

No doubt so many things said so many wrongs

but some thing are better left gone

I pray for the day you can see beauty is in the eye of the beholder

But it only comes with wisdom when you decide to grow older

Your fear is a poison to those around you

Like a sickening ivy that only make your vision  skew

To the point where no friend no love and no air is there

Then who will shield when you are scared?

You see....

We were all pretty much on your side

But you turned around and made us a lie

So, kicking us while we are down

And watching us fade and scream while we drowned.

Soon, you will come to realize that karma does exist.

Karama is never late, to elevate us when it sees fit. 

And for sake of God, I would stop Karam's wheel.

Because I wouldn't want to see a friend cut from the knees. 

But my job is done, my song has been sung.

Time for you to go on your own and see how it's done

I said my words, I unclench my fists

Like a lady, I will rise above this

So, my friend this is it, excuse me for any of my wrongs.

But some things are better left gone.