Tuesday, May 11, 2010

The ballet scene - Armida

When I talked about Armida in my last entry, I mentioned the ballet scene as something that needs to be seen so you can understand its obvious as well as hidden meanings. The ballet scene is not subtle. As Armida charms the man she loves; Rinaldo, and brings him to a deserted island, she uses her magic to build him a pleasure palace, full of countless sensual delicacies. She sings to him, then invites a ballet performance in his honor. At the beginning Rinaldo is in his army suit, but before the ballet scene takes place this suit is taken off and he's dressed in ruffling clothes. Smitten, he sits with her to watch the ballet performance. The ballet starts with a young man in his army suit, among his soldiers. Nymphs appear in front of him, and start making all kinds of seductive moves and gestures. He gradually gives up his stern "facade" and runs after them, only to find them elusive and unreachable. Whenever he tires, they entice him again with the illusion of being reachable, only to make him run after them yet again. He turns into a pathetic spineless man going after the nymphs across the stage. Gradually, some of them disappear into doors, only to be replaced with demons or devils in skirts. What is really pathetic is that he runs after these devilish creatures as if they were real women, even though we can all see that they're not the beautiful ethereal nymphs anymore. Eventually, the nymphs bring a wreath and place it on the young soldier's head, crowning him, perhaps as their "idiot". After the dance concludes with them all over him, some of the nymph dancers take the wreath from the soldier dancer, walk over to Rinaldo, and place the wreath on his head. He's smug and smiling as if he won a grand prize!
Now my initial take on this scene was that it was too obvious! What was Armida's point of showing him his fate with with such a crude display? Why would a woman rub such a sketch in her beloved's face? Then, as I began to discuss glimpses of the scene with my friend whom I watched Armida with, revelations began to come to my mind. A man's take on the ballet is that it's in-your-face mockery of a man in love and how robbed off his will he becomes. Armida shows Rinaldo -in a very direct message that leaves no room for symbolism or misinterpretation- what is happening to him and what will happen when he becomes more and more smitten with her love, and he's still smiling! She blindfolds his mind completely! It was like telling someone that you'll hit him on the head, and you do hit him on the head, and he doesn't dock for cover, and he's smiling as the bruises color!
I have serious doubts about the degree to which men can be like that, except maybe in front of a real beauty. Otherwise men are very cautious not to fall head over heals in a woman's "love trap", either because they don't want to lose control of their lives or because they're watchful of the poison that can be in the honey. Although I read about lots of men pining over real life beauties, I doubt this is because they're in love. The image I have of a man, a real man who's in love, is that of a man who's rough around the edges and full of ambition and plans, but kind and caring and subtle when it comes to his beloved. A man's real love is full of small gestures and actions and occasional words that are not empty, but can be cliches, because he knows a woman loves that. He will not be ashamed to show her that he's weak in front of her, but even in his weakness he is strong and in charge. Maybe Armida was a woman who deserved to be loved, but Rinaldo's kind of love does not command respect for him, even if he did truly love her and was not just taken by her beauty and charm.
The picture that Rossini paints is that women are demons in disguise! And even a noble gift as love is coated with mockery and deceit. Although Armida loves her man deeply, and goes as far as building him a pleasure palace so that he'll have whatever his heart desires, she openly makes fun of his gullibility, and as a result comes across as cruel. Armida spares no effort in making Rinaldo happy, yet that does not grant her absolution of the sin that is stealing her man away from his obligations.
Rossini wants to convey the message that sometimes love makes a man an idiot! And he hates this fact, and will make Armida pay for it dearly at the end. It is not a struggle between the pagan forces and the christian faith, it is a struggle between the woman's desire to own her man and the man's quest to stay free. There is no winner in this battle, because a woman will never "own" a man forever; it is a matter of time before the oblivious opens his eyes and starts looking at the facts. A man will never stay free forever; he won't feel alive. Ultimately they both suffer; he loses the warmth of her love, and she loses the essence of her existence.
If we look more deeply, more revelations will surface, but suffice it to say that as much as the ballet scene was funny and made the audience laugh, it was as much disturbing and full of conflicting messages. It is all part of the web that is the relationship between a man and a woman, and the struggle between freedom and shackles, and the balance between love and duty.

Sunday, May 2, 2010

"And I live still?" - Armida

Last Saturday, it was my first time ever to attend an opera. It was a HD live Met performance of Rossini's Armida. I thought that attending the opera won't be an ecstatic experience, I just wanted to check this off my wish-list. I'm a classical music fan, but operas seemed out of my league, maybe because of the fact that they're sung in a completely different vocal form than what I'm used to enjoy. I just thought that I need to attend an opera to confirm my "prejudice" that the opera is not my cup of tea. However, as the acts of Armida kept going one after one, I was mesmerized! I was caught up in a trance of a haunting performance and profound emotions that I've never expected to feel at an opera performance! I don't know if it's the complexity of Armida with its virtuoso arias, or if it was the experience of the opera itself as a rich form of classical music. Two scenes in particular shock me in two different ways; one of them was the ballet act, but that's to be seen and not explained, and the other one was the finale, and it is the act that compelled me to write this entry. I spent many hours trying to reach a reasonable translation of most of that act, and thought I'd share it here. But to put this final act into context, here's a very brief synopsis of the story of Armida.
Armida is an oriental sorceress at the time of the crusades, who wanted to weaken the christian army by enslaving its best soldiers. Among them was Rinaldo, whom she was already in love. She takes him to an isolated island and turns it by magic into a pleasure palace. He forgets all about battle and his duty to fight, and basks in her love. Two of his colleagues; Carlo and Ubaldo, come to bring him back and remind him of his sacred duty. He's torn between his love and his honor, and decides to leave with them. Upon hearing that he's leaving, Armida comes after him, and the following act takes place:

Armida
(from afar) Stop, you traitor!
Rinaldo
It is she ... Oh God! ... Do you hear her?
Carlo
Arm yourself with courage, friend.
Rinaldo
Alas!
Ubaldo
It may be beneficial for you to listen to her. If you resist her charms, her tears, you will prove yourself to be a hero.
Armida
(hurrying after him) It is true? ... and you are leaving me? You cruel!
Rinaldo
Destiny calls me ... Glory invites me to the field of honor ...
Armida
And glory makes you betray love, faith?
Rinaldo
(leaving) A sweet memory for me you will always be ... Remain in peace ... (To himself) Ah! it breaks my heart!
Armida
(stoping) Peace! can my pain find peace?
Ubaldo and Carlo
(talking to Rinaldo) Resist! Hide the pain from her!
Armida
Leave if you want, my only request is that I follow your steps.
(Rinaldo shows his rejection of her words, turns away, and starts leaving.)
Armida
(continuing) What more would you like? I can be your humble handmaid, whenever you want ... I will follow you as a servant wherever the ardor of war takes you ... I will be your most fervid follower ... I will care for your horses and weapons with all my vigor; I'll be your devoted lover.
Rinaldo
Alas! How I would love to follow my heart!
Ubaldo
Deceit!
Carlo
Trap!
Armida
What more do you want? I will be your squire and shield. Nothing will hurt you; it will have to pass through me first!
Rinaldo
Armida, it is time to put our mistakes into oblivion. You stay. (leaving)
Armida
Ah! Stay? And do not whine?
Rinaldo
What a punishment!
Armida
You want me to dry my eyes, and stay still, you cruel? You have the heart to leave me in this state? In my cruel torment? A grief that won't go away. You don't possess not even a spark of pity? A wild animal gave you his life, and on his soul you have nurtured! You son of cruelty!
Rinaldo
(stopping) You can not change your fate, nor I can change mine.
Armida
Ah! At least give me death, and put an end to my suffering!
Ubaldo and Carlo
(to Rinaldo) Hold on now and be strong.
Rinaldo
Farewell ...
Armida
Listen, my beloved! ... A single moment I beg!
Ubaldo
No more!
Carlo
(dragging Rinaldo) It is time to leave.
Armida
I am teetering into a pit! ... I can not stand... I feel... oh God!... Falling down...
(falls unconscious)
Rinaldo
(who was being taken away, goes back in haste) Armida! My most beloved!... Oh! I will help her!
(Ubaldo and Carlo lead him away by force)
(Armida, now that Rinaldo is away, gradually regains consciousness, then gets up, looks around)
Armida
Where Am I?! ... Flee! Leave me! Like that! The ungrateful could? ...
And I live still? ... And my desolate heart is still beating? ... What shall I do? Revenge ... Love ... Which of you I must listen to? ... What an excruciating choice!

Now this may seem very similar to many heartbreaking, even cliche, love scenes in countless chick flicks, but the intensity with which this part was sang, and the chocking melodic voices, shock me to the core, and I could feel the utter pain and agony and struggle that each of the two lovers had to endure, and the choices they had to make. It has always been very frightening for me to imagine how true love can break a soul to humiliation if it is not reciprocated, and yes, no matter how a woman can be strong and even when she possesses the power of "magic", she can be most vulnerable when in love. The irony here is that with all her magical powers, she could not let a man forget his duty. Not that a good woman would like a good man to forget his duty, but it was really cruel to face the prospect that while she was willing to let go of everything just to be with him, he was willing to let her suffer.
Armida eventually decides to listen to revenge and not love, so at the end she has her powers still, but she will have no mercy and kindness in her heart anymore!
End of story, and end of a wonderful experience that I will no doubt like to do again.

Thursday, April 29, 2010

الوهج السحري

نظرت للمصباح الصغير المعتّق بالتراب المخمليّ الثّري
تراءت لها نقوشه الغامضة و كأنّها تعويذة سحريّة تناديها
تدعوها في صوت رخيم خافت يتردّد صداه رنّاناً في فراغ روحها
ألا هلمّي .. إلمسيه .. إمسحي بيديكِ على يديه
تحسّسي النّقوش لتطلقي سراح السّحر
و ينطلق المارد من عِقاله
و تتحقّق كلّ الأحلام
تعلقت أصابعها في الهواء المحمّل بأحلام اليقظة المجنونة
ترسم أناملها خيوطاً ترسم زماناً و أحداثاً من الوهم و الذّهب
امتدّت يداها إلى عنق المصباح السحريّ
احتضنته أصابعها بلهفة المشتاق للماء في الصّحراء
بِوَجَل من يتعلّق بأهداب حلم وراء ستائر الضّباب الحريريّ
و أخذت تتلمّس وعد السّحر في حنين
و نظرت في ترقّب أن تنفكّ الطّلاسم
و أن يظهر المارد الذي سيحقّق كلّ الأحلام
و لكن شيئاً لم يحدث
مجرّد هبّة باردة الأنفاس
و دفقة من ضوء باهت بدّد الوهَج المخمليّ
و المصباح بارد
ليس به مارد
غصّ قلبها بذلك الفراغ الذي يبعثه فيها وقع الحقيقة وانتهاء الحلم
ماذا كنت تظنّين؟!
هذا ليس مصباح علاء الدّين
و الحلم دوماً مجرّد دخان
و الوهج البرتقالي يهتزّ و يتبدّد
مع أول دفقة من الهواء البارد

Thursday, April 22, 2010

صورة الحائط الثالثة: رائحة الأمس، و رائحة اليوم

فتحت خزانتي لأجلب ملابس جديدة، و بالصّدفة وضعت الملابس قرب وجهي، فإذ برائحة مألوفة تتسلّل إلى أنفي
إنّها رائحة لطالما احتَضَنَت أنفاسي و روحي
و غمرتني بدفء و حنوّ لم أجد لهما مثيلاً في مكان آخر
كنت أشم تلك الرائحة كلّما فتحت دولاب جدّتي في بيتها الرحب
رائحة نظيفة، بسيطة، ليس فيها من العطر قدر ما فيها من الأمان و السكينة
كنت أحياناً أسترق لحظات من أسرتي المجتمعة في الأعياد أو الزّيارات في بيت الجدّة
لأذهب و أفتح دولاباً، و أُمَلِّي أنظاري بنظامه و ترتيبه الذي يضارع ترتيب بيت لورد إنجليزي
و لكن ما كان يسمّرني طويلاً هو تلك الرّائحة
و كلّما طال الزمن زادت الرائحة جمالاً دون أن تستفزّ الأحاسيس
هل كانت رائحة الشّمس المصرية؟
هل كانت رائحة مسحوق تنظيف غال الثّمن؟
و لكنّ الرّائحة موجودة هناك منذ وعيت!
و لم أكن أجدها في أي مكان أخر!
لطالما حاولت و حاولت في بيتي
وصفات سحرية، ألاعيب حواة
و لكن دون فائدة تُذكَر
و لم يكن يُعزّيني إلّا أنّني أستطيع أن أذهب في أي وقت لأتشمّمها
و أستحضر معها أجواء جميلة، نظيفة، مشمسة، دافئة، ضاحكة
طاولات إفطار بسيطة و لكن ذات طعم مختلف وفريد
أشعّة شمس صباح ترسم في الأجواء لوحات من النّور و الصّفاء
أصوات أناس في الخارج تعمل دون كلل، بينما أنا بالداخل في جنّة أرضية بسيطة مكتملة
كنت في تلك اللحظات أنعم بالسلام من نفسي المتشاحنة مع نفسها
و عندما شممت هذه الرائحة الليلة
صُعِقت بتوق مؤلم لبيت جدّتي، و أحضان جدّتي، و دعوات جدّتي
و استحضرت صورتها الجميلة
و صرت كالمدمن أتشمّم ملابسي و أسأل نفسي من أين لي بتلك الرائحة المقدّسة؟
و لكن تأمّلت الليلة أن أحظى بنوم سعيد لم أحصل عليه منذ زمان بعيد
و أن أستطيع مستقبلاً أن أستحضر هذا السحر من جديد
سأنام في أحضان رائحة جدّتي الليلة
سأنام على صورة سعيدة ملأى بالسلام
انتهت اللّقطة

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

الصورة الثانية: البهجة و الوهم

توقّف فجأة عن الحديث مع ذلك الجمع من المهمّين، و نظر ليجدها هناك
امرأته، و لكنّه كاد ألّا يعرفها، كانت عيناها زجاجيّتين
منذ زمان ليس بالبعيد كانت عيناها تلتمعان بلهفة اللّقاء
و كانت إبتسامة بلهاء سعيدة ترتسم على محيّاها كلّما نظرت إليه
و لطالما رآها عبثاً تمسك تلك الابتسامة محاولة أن تلملم أطرافها المبعثرة على وجهها
كان يستغرب كيف أنّ إمرأةً يمكن أن تحبّه فوق ما يمكن أن يصدّق أن تحبّه إمرأة
و كان يحاول أن يجلدها بسياط غبائها و سذاجتها
أراها صور نساء أخريات، جميلات، ذكيّات، ممتلئات بالتّحدي و الحياة
كان يرى لحظة الإنكسار في عينيها
و كانت تحبه رغم القسوة
و أحبّها رغماً عن نفسه
رغم قسوته و نهمه للحياة و الأوقات القصيرة
و رغم رفضه لطول العمر
كانت حبيبته تراه سيّدها و مولاها
و كانت تلك النّظرات المتعبّدة تُبهجه قدر ما تُخيفه
كانت تُرضي فيه رغبة الطّفولة في أن يحبّه شخص ما بلا شروط
أن يحبّ شخص عيوبه، أن ينعم بها
لم يكن يملك إلا أن يغرقها في عيوبه المزعومة
و التي كانت لها بهجة و خمراً معتّقة لم تذق مثلها
و عندما رآها الآن
نظر إليها يبحث عن التعبّد الخجول
و لكنه وجد عينين زجاجيّتين
و رأى سكّينه في صميمها و قد تآكلته الذكريات
ألوان طيف داكنة نقشت اسمه على النّصل الحزين
كانت أوراق عمرها المهدور ترتجف في يديها
ولكنّ أنفها كان يرتفع في غطرسة الذّي سخر من الآلام و الأوهام
و هناك، تحت رأسها العزيز، رأى الغصّة، و سمع النداء
نداءاً لطالما سمعه يوماً بعد يوم في الأثير، في الهاتف، عبر وسائل الإعلام
و لم يعد يمكنه أن يتجاهله بعد الآن
عصف بقلبه الحنين الجارف إلى قلبها الدّافيء المحبّ
حنين أنكره على نفسه يوماً بعد يوم، و عمراً بعد عمر
و عندما التقت عيناهما
و خلف تلكما العينين الزجاجيّتين
رأى هنالك رماد اللّهفة القديمة و الشّوق الدّفين
و رأى الألم و الخوف
هل ستمرّ من أمامه كأن لم تعرفه؟
هل سيناديها؟
هل ستلمسه يداها أخيراً؟
انتهت اللقطة

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

صورة الحائط الأولى: الشرّير و النّبيل

تبدو صورته المبتسمة رمزاً لإنتصار طموحه
فخور هو بصدارته بين الأوائل، يتحدّى العدسة أن لا تلتقطه
أنا هنا، و لا أحد يحتلّ العرش غيري
نحتّ في الصخر و حفرت في البحر لأكون هنا
و سأمسح من يعترض حربي المقدسة للبقاء
ثمّ تشرد عيناه هنيهة، و يتذكّر
من آلى على نفسه أن يعبر بهم اليمّ و يعليهم فوق الفيضان
من علّقهم بسلاسل في قدميه ليمشي بهم عبر الطوفان
و تذكّر
من داس عليهم بالأوهام ليأخذ بعضاً ممّا لم يسمح لنفسه به
و تذكّر
كيف اقتطف لنفسه قبساً من روح، و قطعةً من إنسان
و تندّم
وقف في ذروة اللمعان و في منتصف اللّقطة
يبكي آلاماً سبّبها، يبكي أحلاماً كسّرها
ثم بدأ يبرّر
أنّ الطعنات يجب أن ينساها المطعون
و أن كسور الرّوح تُلملم
و غراءٌ من النسيان يكفي لتكون كما لو كانت روحاً بكراً
ثم تذكّر
أنّ الصّورة مازالت في المنتصف الزمني
و أن الكفاح و النجاح ينتظره من جديد بعد انتهاء اللقطة
فاعتدل ليقرّر
أنّ صدارته في الصّورة مصدر أمن
مصدر قوت، مصدر قوّة
و أنّ الأرواح التي كسرها ستكون فداءً لأراوح بريئة
و أنّ الطعنات التي صوّبها دون تفكّر
ستداوي قدر ما ستظل تغدر
فلتسامحه الروح المغدورة
انتهت اللقطة

Friday, April 16, 2010

صور الحائط

لقد آلت على نفسها ألا تهزّها الرياح مهما قست
و تعهدت لنفسها أن تتلمّس السّكينة في التصبّر و التوطين
و أقسمت ألّا يتمكّن منها النسيان و إن تمكّنت منها الوحشة
و لكنها ظلت تحتفظ بركن أثقله الظل
و اختلطت فيه خيالات، أحلام يقظة، ذكريات، صور مهتزّة
هناك في تلك الزاوية المتهالكة تصطفّ الصور
في لوحة حائط مهووسة
تقف هي هناك كل ليلة
تتأمل في الصّمت المحترق سنوات في لقطات عن لحظات في سنوات
تسأل نفس السؤال، و تكتب الإجابات واحدة تلو الأخرى في المسودّة التي تجيب فيها عند كل إمتحان
تشطب و تكتب، و تحاول أن تتبين أيّ خطوط كانت من آثار سابقة
أيّها لا يصلح لهذا الإمتحان، أيّها كان خطأ و أيّها كان ضرورة
ثم لوهلة تنسى السؤال، و تتأمل في الصور
صور ذهبية، صور ترابية، صور سوداء و صور بالألوان
صور تتحرك معها و صور تتحدث لها
و صور تحركها، و صور تحدثها
صور يمتزج فيها الوفاء بالغباء
و صور تتوحش حتّى يغلبها السلام
يحضرها أن تبحث عن سر القدماء
لتحوّل ترابها إلى ذهب
فلابدّ أنّ هذا ممكن، طالما كان من الممكن أن يتحوّل ذهبها إلى هباء
و لكنّ السحر لم يفلح في أن يحيل التراب ذهباً
و الفيلم السلبيّ محترق بالكامل
و لم يتبق فيه إلا فراغات ضئيلة
تمعن النظر من جديد في الصور المعلقة
يتآكلها الحنين على ماض ضنين
يخيّل لها أن اللحظة حانت و أن الحائط يتكلم ليلبّي وعد الأمس السرّي
لكن اللحظة لا تأتي، و الحائط يتحدّاها أن تنطحه بيديها
بتضرّعها، بتحدّيها أنّ العالم يمكن أن يسير طوع بنان أمانيها
و هي تعرف، أنّ السؤال مفتوح لكل الإحتمالات
وأنّ تمزيق الصور لن يمحو آثار الذكريات
وأنّها ليست ذات القرنين لتهزّ العالم و تبني جسراً و تقهر أسواراً و حوائط
عليها في الوقت الرّاهن أن تتجلّد
تتلمّس السكينة حتّى في ظلال الوحشة
و تجيب السؤال بالتصبّر و التلهّي
و تبحث في المسودّة عن تلك القوّة السحرية
التي تصدّت بها للزّمان، منذ ذلك الزّمان

Thursday, April 15, 2010

خيال من العبق العربي

من حين لآخر يمر بخاطري العبق العربي، تلك الصورة الحسّية المغلفة بضباب من البخور و صدى أصوات قانون و عود و طبل. أتخيّل أن مارد مصباح علاء الدّين يستجيب لرغبات لا تبوح بها النفس، فيرسل في الآفاق داعياً سلاطين الخيال و طنافس من خيوط الذهب، لأجلس عليها و كأنني زرياب في ثوب إمرأة. هل أغني في خيالاتي تلك؟ أم أعزف و أرقص؟ قد يبدو خليط من كل هذا مثالياً، و الحق أن هذه الصورة ما باتت تداعب أفكاري و ترعبني، لأني ما كنت يوماً أحلم بأن ارتدي ثوب الجارية الحصيفة، و لكن الصورة باتت تجذبني لأبعاد عميقة؛ أن أمزج الخيال بلمسة مني أنا. أمن الممكن أن أجلس على طنفس ذهبي، تعبث بأفكاري دقّات القانون السحرية، و أتمثل نفسي في ثوب من الشفق الأحمر، لأتحدّث في العلم و أنا سارحةٌ في ضباب الماضي العابق بسحر ألف ليلة وليلة؟ هل أكون المفكّرة و المناقشة و الباحثة عن إجابات لكوامن النفس و أسرار الكون؟ هل أتحدث بالمنطق و الفلسفة عن الموت و الحياة و الغيب و البشر؟ هل أتلو أشعار الفرسان و أقتبس من أقوال الحكماء و الحمقى سواء لأذكّر نفسي بأشياء أدركتها في الماضي ولكنها فقدت مغزاها مع ضوء الشمس و قسوة النهار؟
إن اللّيل لساحر كذّاب! و لقد خبرت من ألاعيبه ما جعلني لا أئتمنه على عقلي، و إنّي لفي حلٍّ من أن أسلم نفسي لذلك الضباب الذي يخدّر الأعصاب و يمنح الحرية من الإلتزام بقواعد العقل المكبّل، لأنّي لا أضمن أن تحلو لي تلك الخيالات فأهرب في المصباح إلى وهم خافت الأنوار يهمس بأصداء الماضي. وعلى الرغم من أنّي كنت دوماً أكره الصباح و نور الصباح و ضوضاء الصباح الملأى بالعرق و أصوات الرّحا، إلا أن الصباح بات مرفأ الأمان من تلك القوّة السحرية الكاسحة التي يمتلكها المصباح.
كلّا، إن ذلك السحر لذو سلطان! و إن أصوات الملوك الغابرين و الأمراء الرّافلين في حلل لامعة لتناديني، فلأرتدي ثوباً من الوهم الجميل العابق ببخور المسك، و لأذهب إلى هناك مرةً أخرى، و لأشحذ ذهني بكل أسلحة المنطق والجدل، و لأشحذ روحي بكل التوق إلى السموّ. نعم، في ظل هذا الجو يكمن سموّ كما تكمن موسيقى، فبين الجدل و الحصافة و الفطنة تكمن لحظات التجلّي التي تدرك فيها النفس كنه النفس، و تتحدث الروح إلى الروح، و تفضي الأسرار بأسرارها، و تقنع الحكمة المنطق، و تستسلم الفلسفة للفطرة، و ينكشف الرّياء ليفسح مكاناً للصّدق الذي لا يحكم و لا يرجم. عندها قد أصل إلى كنهي و جدواي.

Sunday, April 11, 2010

More tributes

I've paid tribute to many wonderful people whose graciousness was instrumental in me being able to manage my first days here in Kingston, and still is a major source of support. I think it is time to pay tribute to more, whom I've met later and who kept my company and made me realize there are so many wonderful people who just do the best they can to make others happy and welcome.

Anne: I paid tribute to Anne before, and I'll do it again :) Because when I saw her the second time after she invited me to lunch, she welcomed me with such a warm hug and said "I missed you!" As I said before, Anne was the first friendly face who welcomed me when I first came to Canada, and there she was again, welcoming me back into her home and asking about how I was doing for those last couple of months. Anne, you're such an amazing host.

Wendy Powley: When Wendy asked for volunteers to work on the first Ontario celebration of women in computing, I thought this is my perfect chance to meet other people and interact with true Canadians. My only two Canadian acquaintances so far have been Anne and Mike my landlord. So when I met Wendy for the first time it was at the first meeting to prepare for the conference. She had such a warm disposition, yet she was mastering the meeting with such professionalism. She's an excellent example of a leader who pays attention to details. Over the many emails and meetings I exchanged with her, I've learned a lot about personal and proper interaction and writing style, and how the positive yet realistic feedback can make someone want to do their best without feeling pressured. Yet it was her very kind and supportive words for me that really added a big measure of hope to my shaken personal attitude. She wasn't judgmental, and she wasn't patronizing, she just understood what I said, and gently provided a much needed prospective on the situation, all the while letting me know how well I've done, which made me feel strong again and made me want to summon this "old" me who was more powerful and robust in the face of challenges. Thank you so much Wendy for this.

Samirah: Such a wonderful woman, you're just the life of any gathering. A doctor who's an example of how a woman can be both professional and beautiful at the same time. She has such passion for her work it makes me love mine all the more. Samirah welcomed me at her apartment when I was just beginning to explore new friendships, and she was so warm and welcoming, and instantly made me feel at ease. At a moment of revelation, I saw her as a human being, not as a friend, and the look on her eyes was, for me, priceless. I never thought someone can be all these beautiful things together; a hard worker, a sensible soul, a fun spirit, and a deep emotion, all in one. Thank you Samirah for being there.

Wisam: When I first saw Wisam, I thought to myself "How come someone can look so good and have all this kindness written on their face!" But not only was Wisam so kind and generous, she was the funniest girl I've ever met :) Such brightness and peace of heart, it made me despise all the evil thoughts that have ever come to my mind throughout my life. The fact that she's the mother of a really good young man and at the same time studying at Queen's made her an example of how a young woman can be a friend and a mother to her child. The fact that her kid takes pride in reading says it all. Exemplary parents for an exemplary child. God bless the three of them.

Mona: Mona in short is my hero; she's the mother of four lovely girls, and she just finished her Master degree. She' simply a hero; she takes such good care of her family, and wants every single one of them to be special, successful, and happy, all the while looking fantastic as if she was twenty or something! (Mona, you make me look old :D) Seriously, when I heard that she reads to her kids constantly and dedicates a day to each one of her daughters for a special one on one mother and daughter treatment, I was amazed! I've never seen a mother do this for her kids. She gives them all the assurance and support every unassuming child needs from their parents to grow up to believe that they're worthy of love and respect. Once we were at the park, and a little girl hurt her head, and I saw Mona come down to her level and with such a soft and warm and aching voice she comforted her, and I almost broke in tears!

Thank you all for being here, and for the unlimited support you've given me. It is a privilege for me to have met and known you all :)

Saturday, April 10, 2010

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!

Template by:
Free Blog Templates