خواطر عن الثورة المصرية

كُلُّكُم راعٍ، و كُلُّكُم مسئولٌ عن رَعِيَّتِه

لطالما أبهرتني عبقرية عمر التي خطَّتها قريحة العقاد، و لقد قرأتها مراراً منذ أن كنت في السادسة، و كل صيف، إذ لم يكن لديّ ما يُؤنس وحشتي في الغربة إلا قراءة أمثال تلك الدُّرر من الكتب. قرأت عبقرية عمر في ذلك السن الغضّ، فأحببت عمر، و أحببت العقاد، و أحببت العدل الذي لا تهاون فيه و لا مواربة. و تعلّمت في سنٍّ مبكرٍ مبدأً بسيطاً مباشراً: الحاكم لا بدّ و أن يكون عادلاً، و لا بدّ أن يتولّى شئون رعيته و يُدرك ما ينقصهم، و يعمل على النهوض بشأنهم و إعلاء أمرهم بما فيه صلاحهم و صلاح الأمّة ككل.
و عندما عدت إلى مصر، رأيت الصراع متجسدا في كل مكان على أشياء كنت أحسبها من توافه الأمور. لِمَ يتصارع الطلاب في صَفِّي على درجة يدخلون بها كلية الطب؟ لِمَ تقف الناس في طوابير من العرق و نفاذ الصبر و الحيلة؟ لِمَ تمتليء الصحف بأخبار الفساد و سرقات الكبار تلميحاً حيناً و تصريحاً حيناً؟ لِمَ تمتليء كاريكاتيرات أحمد رجب و مصطفي حسين بالتهكم على أحوال السياسة و المجتمع؟ ثم نكست الرأس عن كل هذا و انشغلت أنا أيضاً بتوافه الأمور، و لم أعد أقرأ، و لم أعد أتساءل لماذا لسنا في مدينة فاضلة يسودها العدل. تقبّلت أن هناك الكثير من الفقر، و الكثير من الجهل، و الكثير من التّهاون في الحقوق، و الكثير من الاستسلام للأمر الواقع و السير مع التيار الذي بدا جارفاً لكلّ شيءٍ جميلٍ داخل المصريين. كنت أرى الأفلام السينمائية التي تتعرّض لمظاهر الفساد في مصر فأشعر بضيق الصدر و قلة الحيلة و الرُّعب من أن تطالني صدفة تَعِسَةٌ فأُظْلَمَ من دون أن أفهم. و لم أكن أدرك أنّه في كل يوم أذهب فيه لأتعلّم فتَصْرَعَني عجلات نظام تعليمٍ يقتل النور بداخلي و لا يجعلني أفضل كنت أُظْلَم، و أنّ غيري كان محروماً حتّى من هذا التعليم الذي لا ينفع، و أنّ غيرهم لم يكن يطمح حتّى في التعلُّم، و إنّما في وجبة عشاء لأطفاله لِيَوْم.
كبرت و تَوَظَّفْت، و هذا حق أُتِيحَ لي و ربّما لم يكن لِيُتَحْ لي في نظام آخر، و لكن كانت هناك أوجه أخرى يتجلّى فيها الظلم؛ أين المنظومة الجامعية التي ستعيننا على أن ننهض بشباب الوطن لِيَتَعلّموا و ينهضوا بالوطن؟ أين الوعي الاجتماعي الذي يجعل هؤلاء الشباب و إيّانا في سعي لأن نشارك في إصلاح مجتمعنا. كنت أرى في المعظم أناساً غلبت مصالحهم الشخصية على كل شيء، و اكتشفت أن الأنانية هي السمة الفائزة، و أنّي لا أستطيع أن ألوم السَّاعينَ للمصالح الشخصية لأنّ هذا إفراز منظومةٍ طاحنةٍ لأيّ إنكارٍ للذّات. إن كنت تعمل بوازعٍ من ضميرك فَسَتَعْمَل المزيد و المزيد، و إن تَوَقَّفْتَ فأنت مُجرم و ستُحاسَب، أمّا إن كنت لا تعمل من الأساس فأنت "مفقود فيك الأمل" و ستُتْرَكُ لِحَالِك. هكذا ينجو الكُسالى و العاملون لمصالحهم و يظلُّ المجتهدون يدورون في "الساقية" إلى أن تأتيهم فرصة للهرب. و قد هرب جزءٌ مِنِّي إلى هُنا، لم يكن السبب الوحيد أنّي أردت أن أتعلّم بأسلوب جديد و في منظومة جديدة. و اكتشفتُ بعد قدومي إلى هنا ما الذي يجعل المبعوثين منبهرين بالنظام الغربي: أنك تعلم أنّه بمقدار اجتهادِك و تَحَضُّرِكَ سَيَكون تقديرُك. ما هِيَ الكلمة؟ العدْل!
عدت هنا إلى فَهْمِي الأصليّ - المثاليّ - لِفِكْرَةِ الدّولة و الحاكم، و استقر في نفسي أنّ الحاكم العادل عندما يتصدّى لولاية أمر شعبه فلا عُذر لَهُ في جهلٍ أو تخاذلٍ عن كل جهدٍ يمكن بذله للنُّهوض بحال بلاده. إن تَوَلِّيَ أمور الناس واجبٌ جسيم، و بتجنيب السياسة و ألاعيبها التي لا أفهمُها - و لا أُقدِّر من يلعب بعدم فهمِها ك"كارت" تبريرٍ للحال المُزْري الذي وصل إليه جزءٌ كبيرٌ من المصريين - فإن أقلَّ واجبٍ على الحاكم أن يَحْكُمَ ثلاثين عاماً فلا يظلّ من شعبه مدقعٌ في الفقر يفترِش الأرصفة و ينام في الشوارع عارياً من الملبس و الكرامة، في ظل دولة من المفترض أنّها تنعم بالأمن و لا تخوض حرباً تستنزِف مواردها، تلك الموارد التي يسمعُ عنها عامّة الناس فَيَتَعَجَّبون: سياحةٌ و قناةٌ بحريةٌ و استثماراتٌ أجنبيةٌ و غازٌ طبيعيٌّ و بترولٌ و عمالةٌ تملأ الوطن العربي من شرقه لغربه. من المفترض أن تحكم ثلاثين عاما فتُلْغِيَ المركزيّة في العاصمة و تتيحَ الخدمات و الاستثمارات في المُدُنِ الأخرى التي يسكنُها أناسٌ أيضاً، و تُوَسِّعَ من رقعة البلاد لينعم أبناؤها جميعاً بِيُسْرِ الحياة و لا يَسْعَوْا للتَّكَدُّسِ على ضفاف النيل الذي ضاق بساكنيه. من المفترض أن تحكم ثلاثين عاما فتنتعش الزراعة التي هي رأس مال بلادٍ حباها الله بِنِيلٍ يسقي ضفافه الخِصْبَ و الحياة. من المفترض أن تحكم ثلاثين عاما فتنشر فكراً واعياً بمعطياتنا الاجتماعية و السياسية، لا أن ترعى تفاهة في الفكر و استهلاكية في العلم و الفن و الأدب و تمجيدا للحاكم الأب. من المفترض أن تحكم ثلاثين عاما فتنشر الأمن و العدل و الرحمة بين الناس و تُعَزِّزَ من القيم الجميلة التي كانت تتّخِذُ مِنَ المصريين موطناً و تتجلَّى في أفعالهم منهجاً. من المفترض أن تحكم ثلاثين عاما فلا تكتفيَ بتقارير المُبَلِّغيَن و لا تأكيداتِ البطانة التي لا يعلمُ مدى فسادها أو صلاحها إلا الله، لا تكتفي بهذا فتنزلَ إلى شوارع بلدك و تتحرَّى أحوال رعيتك و ترى بعينك ما يأكلون - أو ما لا يأكلون - و كيف يفكرون - أو كيف توقفوا عن التفكير - و ما يشغلهم من أمور حياتهم و ما يرغبون أن تعمل عليه لِتُحَسِّنَ من تلك الحياة.
تَفَكَّرتُ في هذا كله و لم أعرف سبيلا لتصحيحه، تفكرت في هذا ثم أقنعت نفسي بعبثية الأمر بِرُمَّتِه و بِأَنَّ في الصورة عناصر أكبر من إدراكي المثالي؛ إن الحياة مليئة بالمآسي و مليئة أيضاً بالتفاهات، و طالما لم يقع عليّ ظلم بين فلا بأس هناك، و ليرحم الله المظلومين إن استحقوا الرحمة.
ثم قامت الثورة على النظام المصري الحاكم..
و لقد كنتُ في البدء أخجل مِنْ أن أدعوها ثورة، بل و لمَّا رأيت إرهاصاتها على فيسبوك - و أنا من المستخدمين المدمنين له - ضحكت، ليس سخرية من المتظاهرين و لا من مطالبهم، و لكن من عبثيَّة الأمل في أن يتغير شيء، فلطالما تظاهر المصريون في السنوات الأخيرة. و على قدر ما كان يحدوني الأمل عندما كنت أرى أن حراكاً في الماء السياسيِّ و المجتمعيِّ الراكد منذ زمنٍ طويلٍ قد بدأ يغلي تحت سطح السلبية و الصمت المغلوب على أمره، فإني كنت أقول لنفسي أنّها "القِلَّةُ" المثقفة - و التي دُعِيَتْ بعد ذلك بالقِلَّةِ المُنْدَسَّة - و أنَّ الأغلبية ستظل تصمتُ و تَجْبُن، و أنا منهم. إنَّ غايةَ آمالي كانت أن أكون مصلحةً اجتماعيّةً و أن أعمل بإتقانٍ علَّ هذا يشفعُ لي سَلْبِيَّتي. و لَمْ أحلُم بأن أرى ما حدث، و ليتني كنت هناك! إن السخرية التي انقلبت إلى انبهار، و الكفر بالأمل الذي انقلب إلى إيمان، لَهُمَا أكبرُ مِنْ أن يوصفا بالكلمات..
إنّ الذين انتقدوا ثبات الثائرين على مبدئهم فاتهم أن يُدْرِكوا أشياءَ كثيرة؛ فاتهم أن يُدركوا أن الثورة الحقيقيّة لم تكن على النظام قدر ما كانت على السلبيّة و الاستسلام للعبث بالمُقَدَّرات، فاتهم أن يُدركوا أن لو كان الثائرون قد عادوا إلى بيوتهم لكانت جذوة ذلك الأمل الذي وُلِدَ بداخلنا جميعاً قد ماتت و دُفِنَت إلى الأبد، فاتهم أن الثورة على الظُّلم ليست نزهة يعود المتنزهون منها لِيُكَرِّرُوها بعد حين كُلَّما أرادوا، و إنّما هي مخاضٌ لا بد أن تُكْتَبَ بعضُ سطوره بالدماء و التضحيات.
إن المصري بطبعه مسالم، و قد أرجع توفيق الحكيم - في يومياته كَنَائِبٍ في الأرياف - هذه الطبيعة لارتباط المصري بأرضه و زرعه، فالذي يزرع لا يُحَطِّمُ و لا "يوقف الحال". و حَوْلَ هذه الأطروحة كانت النداءات التي رأت أن تُغَلِّبَ صوت العقل و تسيير الأمور. كُلُّ هذا تغيَّرَ الآن، فالمصريُّ لم يعد مزارعاً مسالماً، و إنما أصبح مهندساً و طبيباً و موظفاً و عاملاً و تاجراً و طالباً و ناشطاً، و عاطلاً أيضا، و لذلك لم يَعُدْ من المُمكِن التنبؤ بِرَدِّ فِعله إذا ضَغَطَت عليه الظروف أكثر من اللازم، سواء كانت ظروفاً اقتصاديّة و اجتماعيّة لِرَجُلِ الشارع البسيط أو ظروف قهرٍ فكريٍّ و سياسيٍّ للمُثَقَّفِ و النَّاشط. ثار هؤلاء جميعا؛ بدأ المثقفون و الطلاب الذين يريدون مساحةً حُرّة لِوَعْيِهِم لا قهر فيها و لا قمع، و تَلَاهُمُ البُسطاء الذين يتلَخَّصُ حُلْمُهم في حياةٍ كريمةٍ لا تُشَوِّهُها الفاقة و المهانة.
و لقد تابعتُ بشغفٍ و بقلقٍ أيضاً كلَّ ما كان يحدُث، و لقد انتابتني نوباتٌ مِنْ ضحكٍ مُرٍّ يُشْرِفُ على البكاء الأَمَرِّ كُلَّما رأيتُ دعواتِ "الأب الزعيم" و "أخلاق المصريين التي تعفو" و "لا تلوموه على بطانة السوء فهو لم يكن يعرف حجم الفساد و الغُبْن الذي لَحِقَ بشعبه" و "أعطوه فرصةً أخرى لِيُصَحِّحَ الأوضاع" و "لا يجوز الخروج عنِ الحاكم، و لَحَاكِمٌ ظالم أهونُ شراً من وضعٍ أمنيٍّ غير مستقرّ". أيُّ أب؟! أيُّ أخلاقٍ تَذَكَّرَها المصريون الآن بعد أن أصبح الكثيرُ مُرْتَشين فقط لِيَتَمَكَّنوا من العيشِ بكرامة؟! أيُّ تغييب يُغْفرُ للحاكم؟! أيُّ تصحيحٍ بعد أنْ فاض الكَيْل؟! و أيُّ ظلمٍ هَيِّنٍ يستحقُّ من أجله أن يَتَحَمَّلَ الناس الجوع و الفقر و المهانة بالدّاخل و الخارج ؟! لقد انساق الناس وراء كل كلمة هَوْناً، و قد يكون لهم العذر في حالة الفزع التي أَلَمَّتْ بالبلاد، و لكن أن يلوموا الذين ثاروا على الظُّلم لأنَّهم ثاروا، و لا يُوَجِّهوا اللوم لمن أثار الذعر في الأصل، فهذا شيء استعصى عليّ فهمه و التعاطف معه.
تنازع المصريون على الشبكة العنكبوتية و غرِقوا في صراعات و تصفية حسابات و توجيه اللّوم إلى أيّ شيءٍ عكَّرَ عَلَيْهِمُ الأمن الزائف الذي تَوَهَّموا وجوده في سلبيتهم، و نسوا أنّ المعجزة قد حدثت، و أنَّ حاجز الصمت قد كُسِر، و لقد صمد الثائرون بنبل ضُرِبَت به الأمثال هنا في حين حورِبَ هُناك، و تحقَّقت لهم معجزة أخرى؛ لقد تمَّ لهم ما أرادوا! إن الفخر الذي شعرنا به هنا - و نحن لم نصنع شيئاً و لم نبذل جُهداً و لا دماً - أصبح تاجاً على رؤوسنا يَحْسُدُنا عليه الأجانب! لقد ضربوا بهؤلاء الثائرين المثل؛ في صمودهم، في دعوتهم للسلمِيَّة في التظاهر، في حمايتهم للمصلِّين مُسلمين و مسيحييِّن، في تنظيفهم لميدان التحرير في نهاية اليوم.
و لكنَّ الطريق طويلٌ و صعب، و تنظيفُ الشوارع يظلُّ أيْسر من تنظيف العقول من الأفكار السلبيّة و التبعيّة الفكريّة، و أيْسر من تنظيف التصرفات من التَّكاسُل و السعي للمصلحة الشخصية على حساب أيِّ شيء. لا يزالُ هناك الكثير مِمَّا يجب فِعْلُه، فنحن أطفالٌ نحبو الآن في دنيا رحبةٍ مليئةٍ بالطموحاتِ و الأطماعِ و التحديات، و لا بدَّ أن نكبر سريعاً - فقد صرنا بلا "أبّ" - و نَفْطِمَ أنفُسَنا بأنفُسِنا عن الاستسلام و التخاذل و الاعتماد على أكذوبة أنَّ فهم الآخرين مُنْقِذٌ لنا من الشَّتات، و لا بدّ أن نعملَ بجِدٍّ لِنُحَقِّق الرِّفْعَةَ لِبلادِنا، و لا بدَّ أن ينضج وعيُنا السياسيُّ و المجتمعيُّ لِنَسْتَحِقَّ أن نَكونّ أحراراً من وصاية "الكبار الذين يفهمون أفضل". لا بد أن نتعلَّم أن نتقبَّل على مضضٍ اختلافاتِنا، و نتعلَّم كيف نتعاونُ لِنَبْني، و الأهمّ من ذلك أن نتعلَّم كيف نَعدِل و نُقَوِّم أنفسنا.
عندما قاطعتِ امرأةٌ عُمر ابن الخطاب في المسجد لمَّا أراد أن يُقَيِّدَ حقاً من حقوقها، و لا أقول أن يأكُل حقاً من حقوقها، فقال أصابتِ امرأة و أخطأ عمر! كان هذا من باب تقويم الحاكم إن بَدَرَ مِنْهُ شُبهة الحَيْفِ عنِ الحقّ، حتّى و إن كان حقاً تافهاً كالمُهُور! و مَنْ هُوَ الحاكم الذي نتحدَّثُ عنه؟ رجلٌ كان العدْل دَيْدَنَه. رجلٌ أَبَى إحساسه بالعدْلِ أنْ يُسلمَ فلا يهدأَ حتّى يَقْتَصَّ مِنْ نَفْسِهِ جزاءَ إيذائِه للمُسلِمين، و يذهبَ فَوْرَ إسلامِهِ لِيَحْتَكَّ بالكُفَّارِ كَيْ يُؤْذُوه. ذلك عدْلٌ لا مداهنةَ فيه! رجلٌ عندما طلب منه الصحابةُ أنْ يُوصِيَ لابْنِهِ بالخلافة - و ابنُهُ عبد الله ابن عمر هُوَ مَنْ هُوَ في فِقْهِهِ و عِلْمِهِ و حُسْنِ اتِّبَاعِهِ للرَّسولِ الكريمِ عليهِ الصلاة و السلام - فَيَقول عمرُ أنَّ حسْب آل الخطاب مِنَ الإمارة أن كان هو أميراً للمؤمنين، "فإن كان خيراً فَقَدْ أَصَبْنا منه، و إن كان شرّاً فَبِحَسْبِ آل عمر أن يُحَاسَبَ مِنْهُم رجلٌ واحدٌ و يُسْأَلَ عنْ أَمْرِ أُمَّةِ مُحمّد، أمَّا لقد جهدت نفسي، و حرمت أهلي، و إن نجوتُ كفافاً لا وزرَ و لا أجرَ إنِّي لَسَعِيد."
و إن نجوت كفافاً لا وزر و لا أجر إني لسعيد ..
إنَّ تَوَلِّيَ أمورِ النّاس ليس بالهَيِّن، و عَلَى من يتصدَّى لهذا الواجب أنْ يَعْلَمَ أنَّه ليس لِيُشَرِّفَ المحكوم بِحُكْمِه. إنْ كان حاكِمٌ قدْ خاض حرباً لِيُحَرِّرَ شبراً مِنْ وطنِهِ فهذا واجبٌ و شرف، و لا يُنْكَرُ جِهَادُهُ و لا يُنْتَقَصُ من قَدْرِه، و لكن لن يُؤَلَّهَ و يُغْفَرَ لَهُ ما قَصَّرَ في حقِّ أبناءِ شعبه. لِلْحَاكِمِ الاحترامُ نعم، و لكن عَلَيْهِ واجبٌ ثقيلٌ دُونَهُ حِسابٌ لا بدَّ أن يكونَ عسيراً، و كما قال أحد الشبان في ميدان التحرير: إن ما فعلناه سَيُعَلِّمُ القادمَ أن يُفَكِّرَ ألفَ مرّةٍ قبل أن يظلِم شعبه إمَّا عمداً أو غفلةً و تجاهُلاً.
عاشت مصر منارةً حُرّة، و دام للمصرييّن عِزُّهُم، و أَعْلَى الله شأنَ بلادي بيْنَ الأُممِ بِيَدِ أبنائها الشُّرفاء، و جَعَلَنِي اللهُ مِنْهُمْ

Analyzing it all...(It's a pessimist's view!)

So the time has come...
It was a forced effort to start this entry, mainly because I couldn't contemplate the prospect of staying with my eyes wide open staring at the ceiling. I thought to myself "You've been procrastinating for so long! You promised to blog about the experience of being in Canada! It's been almost five months for God's sake!" But the moment never seamed right, and the itching sensation never came. It's only my fear of my wandering mind that drove me to the keyboard, and I don't like that, but that's the way it is.
So, what should I say? I've paid my respects to many people who were absolutely wonderful, and more people came along who deserve to be mentioned, and for them I'll dedicate a separate entry. But the point here is to sum up the experience, then dissect it into little pieces that relate to different themes, and the words that could sum up the experience are wonder, loneliness, pain, distraction, and focus.
They say that you can find seven benefits in travel, and I'll try to count what I think was beneficial for me, because these would constitute the wonderful things that I could find here. I've met new friends, wonderful friends. I've learned that I can count on myself in many things and can survive on my own if need calls. I've learned to talk a foreign language without trying to pass my thoughts through a "mental translator." I've seen new places, and wonderful places. I've learned how much I'm missed by my family and friends. I've gained very valuable academic exposure to the latest in my field of study, and hope to be even more exposed to more valuable knowledge if time allows me to. But the most important thing I've learned is how disillusioned I found myself to be; I'm not wide-eyed with awe of a new country and a new culture, the American movies made an excellent job making almost every aspect of north-American life well-understood. I don't see the society here as a Utopia; I see it as a country with its pros and cons. My home country also has its pros and cons, although many people would disagree and even be appalled at the mere idea of saying that the two countries are comparable :D Well, I'm not saying they are, but I still love my country and want to go back and try to do good.
The first night I stayed here I was hit with a sense of abstraction that I cannot really describe, it's as if I was hovering in the air with an empty gut; a sick feeling I get sometimes when I wake up in the morning and see the ten o'clock sun, and I'm not a morning person, so I hate the ten o'clock sun of a working day! I don't know how to describe this feeling, but it was as if I wasn't there, and someone else has taken this giant leap. Was I really in a time zone different than me 24 hours ago? Have I moved back in time and just added a couple of hours to my time on this earth?! I couldn't tell, but the creeks of wood were making me feel warm yet getting on my nerves! I kept looking outside and saying "What have you done you stupid $%##&! What exactly do you hope to do here? Work? Run away? Take a time off?" The answers to all three exclamations is still to be fully determined, but they're still looming over my head waiting for their fulfillment.
The next day to my arrival was a Sunday, so I couldn't go to the school and meet anyone. I took a small map, and took off, wandering in the streets of the city expecting to see a downtown bustling with people and action, but it was a quiet and easy-going downtown. After three hours of walking all over the place, I was hit with a lonely feeling that I've never experienced before. It wasn't a nice thing, and it made me wonder, how can a person be lonely all his or her life? Without anyone to lean on or seek comfort from?! It was a depressing thought in a depressing day, and it took all the possible joys my mind tried to conjure!
When my supervisor saluted me in Arabic the next day, I was ecstatic, and a sense of safety calmed me and made me feel that I'll be ok, that I can still be strong and get something out of the grayness that seamed to color my coming here. I considered work my sanctuary, and thought to myself "There's the one thing you have to do, and you have to do right. Run away all you want, take a time off as much as you want, but the bottom line is your work, so do it right!"
Then came the pain, as I sobered up and began to realize that I'm not "there" while not completely feeling that I'm "here." I walk down the streets and see that I'm in a completely different place, and yet it doesn't set in! It doesn't relate to the fact that almost all the lab members are Arabs, it's something different, as if I'm in a surreal dream or something! Although I saw the snow for the first time, I still couldn't grasp the fact that I'm here. I felt I was going crazy! I thought I'd be in awe of the place, it's a new place with this historic aura that I love, but my mind still couldn't make the connection. I was struggling within myself to find any possible joy, but the only joy I could find was while hanging out with the people I've met, and I lost the drive to explore and see the beauty in my surroundings. It was really a bad sign that my days and nights are turning into hell, and they did! I felt no desire to go and do things, and it was painful to even breath! Then I began to analyze this, and it came down to two simple facts; you can't enjoy a paradise alone, let alone a nice town, and you can't truly enjoy a paradise without a soul mate, may that be a true friend or a true love. Some people can do things by themselves and be content, I don't find this ability in me anymore. I thought I could pass as a loner, a free spirit, but every time I found myself alone with my thoughts I felt that they were coming out of my head, materializing into a creepy monster that wants to swallow me! It was so potent a feeling that I'd jump up and run!
Sometimes I blamed myself for not being able to find the good sides of my stay here, but hard as I tried to put myself in a positive mindset, it worked for a short time and then I'd go back to square one (or more befitting, square zero!) So I kept myself busy as much as I could, with friends, at the lab, in the streets, whatever was available. I thought it was pitiful of me to be this dependent on external parameters to distract me instead of resurrecting my internal power; the power I always prided myself on being able to bring to life at the time of crisis, and this was a crisis indeed; because I became obsessed with trying to figure out what's wrong (besides the personal issues that I had to deal with!) Why am I not doing things right? No work is done, no joy is felt, no fun is planned, even when I began playing the piano, it didn't make me jump up and down, because I kept thinking about how daunting it is to learn everything in a short time.
The closer I got to becoming crazy, the more I cried, the more I became anxious, the more I performed poorly, the more depressed I felt, the more I annoyed people around me with my pathetic depressing mood swings! I prayed to God that it stops, that he gives me the power to cut through this vicious circle that's completely unjustified in my opinion. The solution was to regain the focus: "What is it exactly that you want to do?" It came down to one basic point: you have to do your work the right way. Friends, fun, and piano are the helping environment, not the goal. They're the wonderful parameters that keep you somewhat sane and functioning, but they shouldn't be the point. I've been obsessed with analyzing people and dynamics around me, and with thinking about leisure as if this was a trip or something, and with being a new Mozart. These things are great, but they're not why I came here. I came here to do a specific job, and go back to people that I shouldn't forget, and an ambition that I shouldn't give up, and a life of loneliness that I should really start to adapt myself to.
Admittedly, the focus stage is still jumping back and forth at the back of my mind, but I'm hoping that it'll come around once these extreme feelings of everything around start to wane. Hopefully soon, I'll begin to deploy this focus stage with full force, because God know I need to wake up and realize I'm not in a dream!
I hope the upcoming entries will be promising and not as gloomy!

Many thanks...

Before I embark on the lengthy process of detailing my time in Canada so far, I just wanted to thank so many people for so many things; all contributing to keeping me sane and well these past two months:

Thank you professor Hossam, for your warm welcome the moment I stepped into your office, it made me feel home again, it made me feel safe. Thank you one more time for welcoming me to the group on the first group meeting after I arrived and in the term's final luncheon. I felt among friends.

Thank you Anne, the lady who welcomed me at my first night in Kingston. It was after midnight and I was scared that I'd spend the night in the airport, but you stayed up late and provided me with a warm welcome, a warm room, and a safe place to spend the ten most critical days of my stay until I found my foot.

Thank you Ed, for being the first member of the lab to come and strike a conversation with me, just to welcome me over, and for taking a part of your time whenever I come to your lab to talk to me and ask how I'm doing. You're a very good man.

Thank you Gehan, for coming all the way to the laboratory and welcoming me, then getting me a warm meal when all I had since I came here was crackers :)) and for asking about me all the time, and for being such a funny and friendly girl :)

Thank you Mahmoud Ouda, for being such a stand up guy, together with Hatem, you took me on my first tour in the bus and supermarket, you provided me with invaluable information that saved me a lot of embarrassment and confusion; the things I hate the most in life. You came to the lab wanting to do anything, like a dear dear brother indeed.

Thank you Hatem, for being such a good guy to talk to, about life and science alike, and for inviting me over to your lab for a very delicious meal with Ouda at my first week, and for teaching me the word ibid :))

Thank you Layan, for being an instrumental party in finding me my current residence, for this I cannot even thank you enough, and thank you for keeping my company and introducing me to your great friends who welcomed me with such good grace and openness, and for your rounds with me to buy stuff when you had to work on your own tasks.

Thank you Khalid, for being such a rock to lean on during the hard days of settling in the lab and moving my stuff to my new residence, and for coming back and forth so many times to bring all kinds of things, and for cutting me a great deal on such great stuff :))

Thank you Dina, for being so nice to me and offering me to talk to my family from your own phone, and for being such a smiling face and asking how I was doing even in your hectic term finale, and for being the first one to see me cry and pat on my back saying it would be ok.

Thank you Ashraf, for being so nice to me, and for keeping my company during the luncheon in a setting that would have been overwhelming otherwise, and for giving me hope that together with Wesam, you set an example of an aware family who want to plan for their child intellectually as much as physically.

Thank you Sherief, for being a descent and funny and dependable guy, your emails were really assuring and gave me confidence that I could do it, and your oh-so-Egyptian sense of humor was so refreshing, and your continuing advice regarding my work and my attitude are indispensable.

Thank you Dr. Abd ElHamid, for being the first one who talked to me about my fears of under performance, and for telling me to take it easy and just do my best with ease, and for being such a talented artist and scientist because this is something I aspire to be, and for being so friendly in a serene way because this makes me feel comfortable and confident that things will eventually be ok.

Thank you Ahmed Hasswa, for responding promptly to my emails, and for your nice and friendly correspondences.

Last but not least, thank you my dearest friend Omneya, for keeping my company with your lovely voice and your lovely kids almost every night since I got my Internet connection at home, although you may be tired of all this, you were so great just by being there.

Pool of sand

This week and the past week, I finally got myself to begin reading and analyzing scientific papers related to my area of research. I felt completely overwhelmed by the fact that although the broad outlines are determined, finer details are still missing in my head. Unfortunately, I can't count on anyone else but me to define these details, and I feel as if I'm drowning in a pool of sand. Actually I'm drowning in two pools of sand! One whose sand is the still ambiguous research subject, the other being the compound circle I placed myself into by obliging to whatever administrative tasks the faculty assigned to me for over 6 years now together with making it a challenge to take a completely novel course every semester that I didn't give before! The only benefit I have is that I'm aware now that the pool(s) are polling me down, so I must fight to grab whatever is it that's out there to stop from drowning. The only "branch" I have available is my previous "painful more than pleasurable" experience during my Master thesis. I know what I should do, and I know that I have to do it fast. Of course this is not the place to lay out my plan in detail, it's just that when I talked to Osama, my friend and colleague; who's currently in Japan, I felt that I'm playing games here. I have to be more realistic and punctual and stop giving too much effort to trivia that's not helping me progress through my career. Not that I won't work my best to give the students what they deserve, it's just that I won't waste no more time challenging myself in novel course or doing administrative work that should be done by other faculty personnel. The days of giving without getting back are over! I need to focus a little bit on ME! Both on a personal and professional level. I need to hold on to the branch and swim back from the pool, but I hope that good luck gets by my side for once and when I get out I find myself not in the dessert without water, and better, I wish I find myself in a much more beautiful place.

The story of the only slap I got

I almost forgot this story but it came to my memory today as I was being "talked" by several parties, each believing they're right. Well, I was in the 9th grade (that's the third year in the secondary school) and I was having two terrible changes in my life; I was becoming a teenager with a lot of rebellion and challenge of authority, and I was being bullied by some girls in the school because of Egypt's support for Kuwait upon the Iraqi invasion. We had a female teacher that was the epitome of a "manly woman". She walked, talked, and commanded like tough military men. This woman; Medina; according to my late father, was once a student of his. Dad used to brag whenever her name came up that "I can go and slap her because she was my student" or in Egyptian language "تحبي آجي آخدهالك قلمين". I know I know, this is not the perfect example a father should give his child, but that was dad. Anyway, he said that a couple of times and I didn't care, until one day during the school day, one of the bullying girls harassed my sister and pulled her hair and dropped her to the floor, causing her to lose consciousness. This drove me over the edge and I began to fight with that girl, she spilled a can of juice at my "only" school uniform, I flipped and called her names. She said she'll tell Miss "Medina". I told her.....and I can see where this is going just like movie viewers know...I yelled "My father will come and slap your Medina".
Next day, during the school flag salute, Medina came and stood in front of my class, I knew what will happen, and I braced myself and hoped it wouldn't be in public. She called my name and said "Walk with me." I did, until we entered the headmaster's room, she threw whatever she held in her hand and turned, saying "where is your father to slap me now" and with the sentence completion, she slapped me, right on the cheek...
I shake every time I remember how these few moments felt. I knew back then that I was wrong, way out of line, but all I did was describe what the girl did. She said "you should've come to me and told me". With that she dismissed me, right when the classes were going to their classrooms. I didn't cry nor even utter a word, I held myself firm and my tears in check and walked among the crowds who were looking curiously at me. I held my head up high as if I just had a casual conversation. As the slap burned my cheek, all I could think of is "please God don't let there be finger marks on my cheek". I never actually knew whether there were marks of any kind. I went to class like nothing happened and never gave the girls the pleasure of seeing me shaking. I never told my parents what happened. I was afraid my father would really come to my school, then maybe she would slap him too!!
The morale of the story can be seen between the lines. I hope I learned something out of this story, "Never listen to your father when you don't know whether he can do what he says"

Master Defense

So, it's been a couple of days since I "defended" my Master thesis. I'm gradually gaining back a measure of my equilibrium to believe that it did happen and that I won't have my Master questioned anymore (at least not formally). I couldn't believe how much nervous I was that day until I saw the video and realized I don't want to go through with it a second time. The pictures were nice because mostly they captured happy snapshots, not the "real-time" sweat and tattering. Altogether, I'm immensely happy it's over although I'd like to go back in time and fix all the mistakes I made. But I guess a part of the past's beauty is that it's not fixable and it stands there behind your back kicking you in the "posterior" every once in a while. Well, I did not come all this way through life without learning to live with my "blaming self" and shutting it whenever it gets loud enough to interrupt my peace of mind. And I have to enjoy the freedom - temporary as it is - of not having a homework to feel guilty about when neglected.
Speaking of "real-time", one of the referees commented that he didn't see where the real time detection is in my proposed framework, well, I didn't know how to respond to that. If he was asking about how my system works in real time then it was pretty obvious that data is captured and analyzed as soon as it is formatted. If he was talking about my experiments, well, they were real time but on a miniature level, since the data was not "real" but was replayed to look like it. Maybe I didn't make my work clear enough :(
Bottom line is I'm free to shake all this out of my system and move on to new frontiers, hopefully relax a little bit and regain my focus and purpose, and see what I can do to improve myself personally and professionally.
It's not the end of road as the song says, it's a turn in the road that's still ahead.

Defense

Today I learnt that my Master defense date is the 20th this month, and I wasn't sure what to feel. A part of me wanted to say "Woppa!!" and yet I couldn't completely feel thrilled. I hate to defend my statements; I suck at defense, mostly because I don't believe in a lot of the things I say and I'm only saying them out of necessity or out of experience (usually unpleasant!), and partly because I don't resort to reason and instead go all emotional about what I think. What makes this worse is that I don't really think that I'm entitled to have a say or a suggestion in the scientific arena, who am I to do it?! I look up to people like Newton and Einstein and say "Wow how the human mind can work in the most brilliant ways!!" I believe that a comprehensive guidance from a true scientist can make us "good and methodological thinkers," and because I feel that I don't have that then I should sit at home and learn from scratch how to think like a scientist; how to be cool, logical, and calculating instead of passionate and nervous.
This will go to trash of course because I'll go and "defend" my so-called Master work, hopefully I won't miss things up, and more hopefully, I'm just undermining my potential in advance as a precautionary action so I wouldn't be so upset if others thought my work isn't that good.

Exhausted!!!

I'm nearly finished with my Master tasks, although I'm not at all satisfied with anything! But, the fact of the matter is that I'm not willing to put an extra ounce of effort into this project which took so much time and energy. I'm sure this means I'm not a great person, since great people don't quit enhancing their work. But really, the atmosphere in which one works affects his or her ability to excel, to take that extra mile to greatness. Well, without lingering on the bad circumstances that we worked in, I think my work is done in that area. I thought this will give me the willingness to do extra work into the traditional faculty job; you know, the sections and all..but on the contrary!! I'm so tired of half the effort I used to exert a couple of years ago..I'm not enthusiastic about new courses I'm assisting in teaching, nor about the fact that I can work in faculty without feeling guilty about my Master. The truth is I didn't take a real vacation since I was a student in the third year, this is about 8 years!! WOW..No vacation meaning with absolutely nothing to worry about..It's been so long..And I neeeeeed a vacation or the rest of me is gonna collapse! Not that I'm complaning about the job, it's not that hard anymore, but I need a break to renew my brain cells so that I can accept and embrace the job challenges from bad boys to hard excercises..
Can I get such a vacation soon? I think I'm gonna do whatever it takes to have it..or I'm gonna end up doing just like other less lovable people in the faculty do, get in, take attendance, get out!

A Comment on one of my friends feelings..

Today, I read a blog entry posted by one of my coleagues and friends, Haitham. It brought back some unwelcomed memories of friends and betrayal. So I thought maybe I can share my experience with him as well as everyone in this context.
Without delving into much details, I had a friend - actually she's still my friend - who at one time in my life when I was most vulnerable, ignored me for the sake of social traditions. See, I made a mistake when I was in high school because of her, and when I had to face the consequences she simply stopped answering my phone calls and refused to see me on the grounds that my company is shameful. Needless to say I was devistated - I was in the middle of my final exams - and I felt so lonely and betrayed. On the other hand, there was this girl who was not very likable, but she stood by me in the time of crisis. I never liked her, but at that time I respected her bonding and thought "Hey, there is a person who really knows what you really are and respects you no matter what the others think". But later my old friend attempted to reestablish our friendship as the mistake was metigated by my hard work and seriousness and eventually faded into memory. First, I refused all types of contact, although deep inside I felt I needed this to rebuild a self image that has been broken to pieces. But the two girsl hated each other's guts, so I had to make the "right" choice and hold on to the girl who stood by me. Eventually the girls managed to like each other by some mysterious strike of luck.
The girl who stood by me turned out to be someone completely different for some reasons I can't mention here, and I severed all relationships with her. Surprisingly I kept my relashinship with my old friend on good terms. But the bitterness is still there. When I get back to that dark time when I was abandoned by the only person in the world whome I loved and respected, I feel like I want to kill someone. My sister used to say to me that if it was her, she would've never forgiven that old friend. But I have this theory that as you grow older, you grow wiser and stop expecting much of people - even soulmate friend and significant others - and you start seeing things in a new light of understanding of human weakness and stupidness. I never trust my old friend too much today, and I'm always on guard with her, expecting the worse, prepared for the worse. But somehow this does not affect our respect for each other, and most of all, she's the one who came back to the relationship. Looking at it now, I guess this was her way of saying I'm sorry I sold you out.
The morale of the story is "do not expect much of people, but do not loose them either!"