A Company that beats all Butts; KIDS!

 

   It's been a while since I was last at a social gathering where I felt so out of place and alone despite the crowd that surrounded me. Just like bullies who are fond of picking fights, my brain loves taking advantage of minor incidents to squeeze my phyche and dwell on deeper thoughts.

   Mentioning this is basically stating the obvious, but we all know how we are highly influenced by the people we spend most of our time with. For the past 7 months, I have been spending 6 hours/day, 5 days/week with 3-year-olds, and I'm starting to believe that the influence they have on me is much greater than any influence I may have on them.

   The following are merely the crust reasons why the company of children seems to be more enriching than any I've ever been surrounded with, and why I seem to feel more alienated among adults.

The gecko we found in class

   Life never fails to feel like an adventure. Most of those who know me would also know how I'm a adrenaline junkie who's constantly in pursuit of 'an edge', something to give me a thrill. For someone whose knowledge of the world is barely starting to form, anything can be adventure if you choose to present it as one. It can be an adventure to spot a fat juicy spider in the garden, or to keep chasing after the rabbit which seems to really hate those kids, or to find a massive gecko joining our class time. It can also be introducing far off places and concepts to them, like the savanna, or space. And the most rewarding part of this adventure is the sparkle you see in their eyes.

   They are a perfect place to invest your emotions; it always pays off. Emotions, and love in particular, are such valuable assets that require careful handling. Some of us have been through heart aching situations where the people we chose to put faith in just didn't have equal faith in us. That's almost never the case with kids (and I add 'almost' because I don't like generalizing, not that I have concrete evidence against this fact). Giving love to a child, even if you force yourself to fake it, can literally turn his/her life around. And when you see how grateful kids are for the love you give them, you just find yourself trapped with no other option but to love them even more. It's an ever growing spiral of love, unless you choose to hinder it, or overlook it.

   When they say something, they mean it. Yes, I brag about getting the chance to deal with the only fragment of human race that does not yet know hypocrisy. When you're around adults, you exert a lot of effort to decode everything. What did they actually mean by saying this? Why did they actually do that? There always seems to be a hidden code, one that is more true than what we see. Kids don't have those levels. They're a company where what you see is what you get. They neither know how to fake things, nor how to hide how they actually feel. And this makes life a hell lot easier, and much much more genuine. I get called "YOU ARE SHIT!" (of course, it's more amusing in the Arabic version "انتى ككّا") , and I also get the greatest amount of heart felt hugs and kisses I have ever got in a lifetime. And I love them both equally, because even when I'm called shit, I know that there's a substantial amount of anger than needs to be addressed, and that once it's talked through, no grudges are held.

   A non-judgmental zone the way non-judgmental should truly be. There isn't much to say here, other than that they are blessed with not knowing as many criteria of judgment as we have been taught throughout life. The only thing they know how to judge upon is whether you treat them with love and respect or not.

   You would imagine that with whatever experience I have gained in 22 years, there's so much that I have to teach those kids, but I guess it is precisely because of whatever experience I have had in those 22 years that those kids are the ones who have a lot they can teach me. I walk in there every day aware of what I would like to teach them, but they walk in there every day unaware of the amount of life they kick into my soul.

   Of this I'm quite sure, that I'll need an immense amount of social rehabilitation the day I quit this job to carry on exploring.

Conversation with a Bearded Taxi Driver

The driver mentioned had a much denser beard (archive photo)

Such a hypocritical world that we live in, where freedom of expression is called for at the top of the lungs, and walls of stereotypes rise faster, taller and stronger than ever. Beyond those walls is where social life grows in richness and vividness.

Back in my college days, I spent a hell lot of time commuting across the vast and crowded streets of Cairo, with no one keeping me company but my music player. One day, as I stood at the side of the road to stop a taxi, fate brought my way one of the many bearded taxi drivers of Cairo. In a perfect stereotypical world of which I am a citizen, that man would be categorized as first class Islamist, with fanatic ideologies.

"What are you listening to?" was the first thing he asked to initiate conversation. At that moment, my music player seemed like an enemy that was about to get bombarded with criticism for the music it holds, and how I'd rather be listening to Qur'an rather than music.

To my surprise, the driver instead started inquiring about the various foreign music genres, and which among them did I enjoy most. But nothing can beat that moment when he started talking about ‘that young Canadian boy’ who has grown very popular; next thing I know, we're discussing Justin Bieber and the commercial music industry!

Having expressed my dislike for the shallow and hollow content of the commercial music sweeping the streets, he turned in surprise to ask, "You don't listen to love songs, and romantic ones?" My reply in negative seemed to naturally push him to advise me to "live your femininity; you're a girl!"

"Teenagers and youth are taking it way too seriously these days," he replied to my inclination towards favouring local bands who tackled serious issues through their music over the previously mentioned musical content.

How I really wished that my destination was a little farther, for I was quite enthused to hear more about what music was like for him back in the days 'when MJ was still a rising star.'

I may have encountered many bearded men apart from this gentleman who have left a negative impression, one that I falsely applied to all who embraced the same visage. It's sad that I may have avoided a conversation with this very interesting gentleman because of acts that he did not commit.

We've been created with differences so that we would get to know each other, rather than group up with everyone who looks and sounds alike, for then... the world becomes what it is right now!

Detached Emotional Thoughts

   I guess everyone is entitled to one detached emotional blog post every once in a while. So here's my share of unplanned sharing of thoughts and emotions.

   We all watch all sorts of emotions-packed movies all the time, but I suppose when "nature" has its way of kicking in some hypersensitivity into your system, those movies tend to have a somewhat stronger effect on you. I guess I just tripped over the right trigger...

Detached Thought 1...
Death of Loved Ones

   Obviously the movie I was watching revolved around expecting death, and getting to pick a quality of life, or the remainder of it. But that's not what brought tears to my eyes; it was this scene of family and friends gathered around the bed where the soon-to-pass-away girl laid. It reminded me of the time when I used to visit my grandpa and read him all sorts of stuff to entertain him as the times he spent in bed started to grow longer.

   It's one of those memories that bring both a tear and a smile to my heart. You see, when I was a little kid, back then when I used to sleep over at my grandparents a lot, my grandpa always used to read me prophets' stories to sleep.  As I grew older, I always had this urge to express how much I love him while I still could. So I thought why not read him the same stories that he used to read me. The only problem was, the tome of stories I had was the children's version. I recall that day when he requested the story of a prophet who was old and ill, but Allah cured him; it took me no longer than 5-10 mins to read it, and then he looked up at me, and said, "that's it?!" I honestly couldn't confront him that I was reading him the children's versions!!

   The joy that brightened up my heart when I would read him something that would make him laugh is simply indescribable... The days when I would head straight from college to the hospital... The times when I would make sure he was asleep just to cry in the corner of the room.

   I really really miss this amazing man, and the warmth that his love brought this big family. But at least it comforts me to know that I tried all my best to let him know how much I love him.

   May your soul rest in peace :)

Detached Thought 2...
The Marvel and Magnitude of Human Emotions

   Back to the movie... It's a typical Hollywood movie where the drama revolves around an axis of romance. And yet again, me being in that mysterious emotional state made me quite vulnerable to picking up signs, especially those of emotional nature.

   All of those who know me well enough know that I'm a person who cherishes hugs; sometimes one needn't say anything. Watching this movie just made me think how holding someone's hand, or giving someone a hug is a means of giving them a portion of your emotions, of your energy for love and comfort, of yourself.

   I think it's time I confessed this, but one of the things that make me quite happy about being a preschool teacher is the free flow of emotions, and the amount of hugs and kisses one gives and receives everyday. Working with children has certainly transformed my definition and view of love. You know that kick one gets when the one they love finally notices them? That's what I feel when my relationship with any of those 3-year-olds develops and I start seeing the happiness on their faces when they see me. It is such a comfort to know that I have captured the heart of an innocent soul.
 
   I'm in this habit of saturating most of them with hugs and kisses whenever I can, and kissing their little fluffy hands is just my way of telling them that they are such precious beings. Just today, one of the girls was holding my hand, and out of nowhere, I found her kissing mine! I cannot describe what that made me feel like. I told you, a preschool is quite a place to be. They simply transformed what love means to me!


   Usually, in order to present a blog post to the very limited readers of this pathetic blog, my thoughts go through a prolonged process of brainstorming, filtering and arranging thoughts, linguistic refining, and then sharing it. This post has gone through NONE of the previous, hence it's quite obvious to say that I have no thoughts to conclude what I have written...

   Just... Spread the love, I guess :)

If you're mind f***ed and you know it, say "Hurray"!!

"It seems as if our entire generation needs psychiatric help!" my friend noted as we discussed what some of our friends are going through.

A misconception that series and movies have implanted in our heads is that the more drama you have in your life, the more sympathetic people will be with you. Snap out of it يا روح قلب ماما. That only goes as far as movies! You see, in real life, if you have a lot of drama, some kind hearted people may offer you a helping hand to assist you with picking yourself up... but just like anyone who exerts a lot of effort with them barely paying off, they will be repelled and discouraged to carry on at one point or another.

Thing is, efforts paying off don't necessarily mean that you'll poop rainbows and butterflies overnight. An altered perspective that upholds more positivity would certainly show will for a brighter change.

Often do we undermine the way we address ourselves. As a journalism graduate, I very well know how the choice of one word over the other can ignite riots, and this applies similarly to how your mind converses with you. For instance, if your mind tells you "I'll do my best...," well, how far does "your best" get you? Does it get you all the way? 

Now, try instead to say "I'll keep on going, and I shall do whatever it takes to get to the finish line." Do think there would be difference in how you act accordingly?

Of Graduation and Frustration

All through our years of education, it feels as if we're walking through a dark tunnel with a white light at its end, and the more we proceed, the brighter matters seem to get; but the light is it too bright that it prevents us from seeing what truly lies beyond the tunnel. Yet, we feel very hopeful about reached the light.

Self Portrait by Nourhan Refaat

Hallelujah, you throw your graduation cap into the air, and you're now on the verge of exploring what lies ahead, only to find yourself standing on a slope where you only have either of two options; you can either carry the weight of the world on your shoulders and roll down the hill, or take a deep breath, acknowledge the difficulty of the situation, but summon up all the powers you have within to start climbing up the steep hill.

I know how awful it may feel to have lost all sense of security as your lifetime plan starts to dissolve before you. It's not the prettiest feeling to have to acknowledge that reality isn't as you have expected it to be, but remember that you always... ALWAYS... have an option. Where you go from there is YOUR CHOICE, and yours alone, and it's primarily you who bears up with the consequences. You can either slowly sink as you mourn your life away, or you can be realistic and man enough to embrace life with whatever it brings your way, while working out a way to make the best out of it.

Push the Happy Button

Until a year ago, before I graduated, my friends had always referred to me as a life lover, and sometimes even an inspiration. Where I stand right now, my self image seems to have lost its shiny sparkle that gave people hope; that gave ME hope! I know that for someone who has been through real shit to read about an almost fresh graduate expressing her mind so dimly would only bring them to tears of laughter, and I'm sure that one day when I'm old enough to have had my share of real shit, I will be laughing about what I'm writing right now. But nevertheless, this counts!

In many years, you may not vividly recall the intensity of a harsh phase you were going through, but it's how you deal with them now that would either lead to you locking them up in history, or carrying on to endure them all the way till then.

I don't want to blame what I'm going through on a job that I claim sucked the life out of me, or anyone in my life, because the choice to be happy is MINE, and mine alone!

Action is what I am supposed to do. Happy action. Tweaking my thoughts down the happy lane, and acting upon which.

I know I need to play sports. I know I need to allocate more time for reading and writing. I know I have the time for them, but I need to put that time to better use.

I hope though that I won't be another hypocrite who fakes happy thoughts, and goes to sleep with a weighed down spirit and heart.

I owe it to myself to be happy and bright, and I owe it to every person who once considered me an inspiration in one way or another.

You, too, owe it to yourself!

Mourning won't bring back anything. So chill, and BE HAPPY! 

If you agree with the previous, why don't you share your ideas on picking oneself up, and maintaining a bright perspective on life?

Repeat after me, 'I'm not fat, I'm BEAUTIFUL!"

   Hi, my name is Enas, and I happen to have been born and raised in a fucked up time for humanity. As I grew older trying to sculpture my cognitive senses, the surrounding human race clearly stated that women are evaluated upon their waist and bra sizes.

   No one would ever dare tell a kid that she's "ugly" because she's fat, but they certainly make it clear that it's more than plausible to lose weight. It's one of those things that need not be clearly said; it's quite obvious how "important" it is when people pour all that time, money and attention into one thing... Hell, it must be important, right?

   Now, let's face a couple of facts... I'm Egyptian, and I'm sure all the ladies out there know the kind of body type we're all cut out for. Yes, pear shaped is the way we roll down here. The other fact is, I've always been an athlete, and sports have always shaped a bigger part of who I am on the inside rather than the outside.

   Having led an early life where my primary concern revolved around crafting the best possible version of myself (as I have previously elaborated in my earlier posts), I may not have been quite the girl whom boys chased after, but it wasn't long before I started realizing the global female mold that I had to fit myself into.

   Starving myself into alleged diets, measuring my waist line, weighing myself every other hour, only seeing the fat burning potential of sports rather than the pure joy of it... I started being mentally consumed by the notion of my size, regardless of how healthy and fit I was. I have to admit that for around 10 years, I'd had my several ups and downs, but nevertheless, my size and weight remained a criterion of self-evaluation.

   But one day, while I was researching some "media psychology" material for a college assignment, I watched a video that triggered a lot of change. The video explained the curve of female representation in the American commercial sphere, which although may be a little exaggerated than the case in our country, the bare notion still applies.

**for a quick glimpse of what the video discusses, watch this http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_FpyGwP3yzE ... or download the entire movie on http://kat.ph/killing-us-softly-3-advertisings-image-of-women-avi-t1428140.html**

   Afterwards, I started seeing how my perception of my body wasn't entirely an accident, and that I was just another female caught in a massive commercial trap. I was only one more piece of wood adding up to the viciousness of the fire.

  What further strengthened that paradigm, is recalling how all the hotshot Egyptian female actresses looked like back in the 60's and 70's, and how they were ALWAYS perceived as, hands down, HOT! So, there you go... it's only a trend, and apparently, it shall pass.

   SO WHY THE HELL AM I FOCUSING THAT MUCH ON SOMETHING THAT'S NOT EVEN CONSISTENT TO THE PUBLIC PERCEPTION?

   Along those mental roller coasters where I was trying to live up to a made-up perfect female figure, I often hated my body; I hated feeling food in my stomach; I hated having to pick clothes from my wardrobe... It was such a sickening feeling.

   But then, as one of my dearest dude friends simply put it, "clothes are only meant to keep you covered. You buy clothes that fit you; you don't fit yourself into your clothes...
"Why, are you poor? Can't you buy new clothes that fit you if your old ones don't any more...?"

   The sad part about all this are the blessings that we seem to forget being thankful for along the way. I have a perfectly healthy body that has endured a lot; how on earth do I not treasure it by making sure that I properly nourish it?

   So, after a hell lot of thinking, and after recognizing that I've been subtly manipulated into the previously stated stance, I very well knew what needed to be done....

I AM FINALLY MAKING PEACE WITH MY BODY
I can't deny that I would be happy to lose weight, but I won't be angry at myself if I gain any!

   I honestly don't now how long I'll be able to stand my ground, but I ask of you to bring me back to this zone should you ever find me drifting again to the self torture zone.

   I am a blessed and healthy woman, and I have a lot of human beauty that lies within which does not abide by billboard standards. Remember that, and keep reminding me of it... for I was born and raised in a fucked up time for humanity.

The Cocooning Snake

  Butterflies. Rainbows and butterflies.

  Young girls. Pink bows and puffed tutus.

  Stuffed ponies and pony tails.

 
  But I never was that kind of girl. As a kid, I ran after elder boys and kicked them in the sheen. I often wore the clothes that no longer fit my brother. I always had my hair tied in a bun. I didn't look like the other Barbie girls. As I grew older into the teen years, I saw the girls sneak their way to the playground where they could spend their break time with their crushes or boyfriends while I steadily made my way to the various student activities which no one seemed to notice ever existed in our school.

  I was tough enough to pinpoint my higher purpose in life back then, and pursued it. No one "saw" me, neither did I make much way for myself to "see" anyone.

  Many years later, along came a frog whose croak bore magic.
"What animal would you think I would be?" I asked the frog, "what animal would you say inspires me?"

  I knew it would never reply similarly to the thoughts lingering in my head, for it's quite an unusual thought for normal people that girls aspire to lead the life of a snake.

****

  Snakes. An entity of muscles and strength. Feared by all. Respected by all.

  Emotions of a snake? Rarely ever the first impression to be remembered for, despite its genuine existence.

  Yet everyone seems to forget that snakes don't bite unless threatened.

   "A butterfly," the frog answered my question. "You're peaceful, tiny and you appreciate nature" replied the frog to my sarcastic dissent.

  But it wasn't just dissent, it was the disdain. A snake faces threat, whereas a butterfly just flutters its way away from trouble. Everyone admires a butterfly for its pretty colours, regardless of its slimy past. But a snake has to lead its life only noticed when feared, always sought to be killed, never to be embraced.

  In any normal case, the snake would just eat the frog, but this particular frog's croak simply hypnotized the snake. It was like a sedative that assured the snake it was not under threat. Although the snake feared not the frog would hurt it, neither did it want to hurt the frog, there was a sudden feeling of restlessness that disturbed the snake most.

  "A butterfly!" Could I truly be?
  For the first time, the snake had to choose between its strength and poise, and the chance to let loose and flutter off into the carefree butterfly world.

 Except, what would a snake turn into if it chooses to enter the cocoon?!

Why Can't a Girl Propose? (Arranged Marriage Scenario)

**Scenarios #1 and #3 are mentioned in the previous post**

Scenario #2: Arranged Marriages….


Friend
Okay, there's the more traditional way which is arranged marriages "جواز صالونات" where a girl's father walks up to my father, and discusses this matter with him.
Quite frankly, I will be repulsed from the girl even before I meet her

Me
And what if after meeting her, you find that she's not as you expected
I don't mind the primary reaction, because I'd do so
But if the "arranged" method brings in someone who's like... HAAAAAALLLEJAH, I WOULD change my mind!

Friend
You see, the thing is, for someone to do so, she would probably be dealing with low self esteem for her father to treat her like a commodity and quite frankly, I've had enough dealing with psychological issues!
And it's a long shot for this to happen, but if the hallelujah moment comes, I think I'd have to fiercely talk myself into it to accept it

Me
WHOA WHOA WHOA.... father treating her like a commodity? THAT IS A HORRIBLE VIEW!!

Friend
Horrible but true, because what he's doing is offering her as a product for someone else to buy.

Me
Of course not... with all due respect, that is BULL SHIT!
If she's FORCED into it, okay, treat the scenario as you wish
Bas what he's doing is trying to find her someone he'd feel safe to give his daughter away to
So he finds someone who's suitable, and whose family is as well
And he suggests him as an option...
They see if the kids would get along or not
They either agree or they don't
How on earth is that treating her like a commodity??
You have got to hear my father talking about "giving me away" one day...
Sane fathers don't think like you believe they do!!

Friend
Sane fathers! We don't have that many sane fathers!

Me
What I mean to say, if my father takes the initiative, and goes to my crush's father to make way for me meeting the guy... HELL, HE'D BE THE WORLD'S MOST KICK ASS FATHER EVER
And I believe we have many of those fathers, but we always prefer to prejudice against our parents

Friend
Okay, hold on a second, he's not a crush
Your father goes to his friend, for example, who has a son and you two never met
And he decides to hook you up with him.
But if we consider the 'crush' scenario, the 'freaking out' level may drop a bit!
It would be still there, but most definitely a lot less

Me
Yeah... but yet again, it's like when we were kids, and we'd refuse to eat something we'd never tasted before, claiming that we don't like it

Friend
I don't think you can make such comparisons.
I'm not convinced for a reason; sometimes you rush things over a bit because the parents are conservative, and they want to get their daughter married; then they give time for the relationship to develop after marriage!

Me
If you decide to "give it a shot" you can always ask for all the time you need before you "rush into anything"
And then you can choose whether or not you can carry on

Friend
I haven't seen an arranged marriage that goes that way. But I am not the judge of it because I haven't seen many cases. But from experience, arranged marriage = conservative = rushing into things

Me
But then, you're only following a stereotypical image

Friend
True
Let's shift to another context?