Ode To My Dedig

As I was driving to work on Thursday 23rd November 2017, I received a call from my mother telling me my dedig had passed away. He was 94 years old, suffering from dementia and more. He had been bed ridden for a couple of years, so the news didn’t come as a shock to me, however, surprisingly, it still was extremely difficult to absorb. Although I was prepared for the news, it still managed to hit me a lot harder than I thought it would.

I already had been missing him the past couple of years. Exactly 3 years ago, I wrote a post in which I clearly missed him and I was regretting how I relied on my memory rather than recorded the stories he had told me.

The toughest thing has been that I have been feeling guilty for grieving since not only was he old but he lived a very beautiful and long life that many would envy. I also feel guilty for grieiving since this past year I have also lost people very dear to my heart, who were a lot younger. Society taught us that we should be celebrating the life he lived instead of grieving and that this is nature’s course. Rationally, I know that’s right.

However, how can’t I mourn the loss of the man who profoundly influenced my life? How can’t I mourn the loss of the man whom I respected and looked up to the most? People grieve and mourn in different ways. I found that for a week after he passed I wrote. I wrote all I could remember and cherish.

Ever since I received the news of his passing, I have been remembering many moments we’ve shared. At times I smile and laugh, and at times I cry. Naturally, some memories stand out more than others.

The below has been in my drafts since, and I didn’t know if I should or should not ever publish this. As his birthday is approaching in a couple of days, I just read it again today, and I think (and hope) that some family members might appreciate some of these memories.

The below begins with some intro to his early life and followed by a couple of memories I have.

(I do hope you all excuse me since I realize the style of writing in this piece is not my best and pretty weak but I did not edit it to maintain the original thoughts)

So here goes!

Trust The Universe

Last time, I shared that as life gets better, my fragility increases and my fear intensifies. I was concerned about the rogue wave crashing down and wiping away all that has been done.

Thinking strategically about our lives tends to reduce anxiety, yet, our carefully laid plans can also often bring us stress, anxiety, and sometimes even depression.

When the unexpected happens in our lives, unforeseen circumstances feel like tremors beneath our carefully built scaffolding, causing it to tremble as the ground starts to shift.

We forget so easily… Oh, how we forget!

I had forgotten that I had given up control before.  I trusted the universe and let go. It was when I let go, that the universe opened up to me, and gave me more than I ever would have planned for myself.

We move through our lives with accuracy and diligence, as we were trained to do. We tend to forget that more often than not, all we can control is ourselves.

Today, I remind myself, that the next time it feels like the world beneath my feet is swept away, to trust the universe and just let go.

 

 

 

 

Riding the Rogue Wave

I no longer am floating in a peaceful sea. I got caught by a rogue wave and have been riding it since. This monstrous and powerful wave that was caused by several reinforced smaller waves, has been taking me to heights I never thought possible, making me feel invincible.

The universe has been working for me. All the pieces are finally falling in place to my benefit, overwhelming me with the glorious feeling of grandiose. When did life get so good?

As life gets better, my fragility increases and my fear intensifies. What if this rogue wave crashes down wiping away all that has been done? I weather through storms hanging on to life. I’m not done yet. I’m not ready to let go yet. I’ve come so far. I’ve got so much more left to do…

 

 

A Lebanese Soldier Goes to War

He carries his country in his heart,
Leaving loved ones behind,
Bidding them goodbye,
Will he see them again?

Off he goes to fight for country,
Into battle he goes,
He risks his life,
Wiping away terrorists.

Landmines buried on dusty roads,
Rockets blasting nearby,
His friend falls,
The excruciating sound of pain.

He’s sent off to keep the peace,
Crowded streets of protestors,
Filled with hatred and anger,
When will this end?

Fortunately, he will go home,
He’ll never be the same again,
Never forgetting the horrors he saw,
As he deeply mourns those killed.

 

 

The protests, our civic duty, and I.

 

As some of you are aware, I used to blog about Lebanese politics many years ago. It was around 2007 when I not only stopped blogging on Lebanese politics but turned a blind eye to it in general.  It was feelings of despair, anguish and pain that lead me to stop. As I witnessed the country not moving in a positive direction and history repeating itself, I lost all hope of a better future.  For years, I constantly wondered what kind of tipping point does the population need before they come out and say enough is enough.

When I moved here over a year ago, I wasn’t oblivious about the situation and I was fully aware of how I had to adapt in order to survive in the country.  The electricity cuts? No biggie, subscribe to the neighborhood generator. No water? No biggie, call for water delivery.  No drinking water? Buy bottled water. The list goes on and on.   I am aware how fortunate I am to be able to pay for these extra services compared to a large part of the population who don’t have the similar advantage.

Another advantage I have, is that I live here by choice. My own family don’t even live here. I also have another passport so I always have the option to pack up and move to a country that provides me with such basic necessities.  I choose to be here because I romanticize about this country.

However, during the past year, I witnessed the situation immensely deteriorate. The electricity cuts increased to the extent that at one point last month, I only got 10 minutes of electricity during 3 days.  The neighborhood generator couldn’t handle the increased pressure and was no longer providing me with the ampere I had subscribed for. In order to switch on my washing machine, I had to switch off my fridge and air conditioning during a heat wave. To add to that, garbage was being burnt in my neighborhood.  This is when my frustration hit.  This is not a life I want to adapt to and no one should adapt to such an intolerable situation.

Who knew the tipping point would be garbage? It makes a lot of sense though.  The stinking garbage is in your face and we don’t have adaptive solutions for it like we do with electricity and water.
This is why when the YouStink people took to the streets I joined them. During the past couple of weeks I have been criticized and gotten into debates on whether it is right for me to take to the streets with this movement.  In all honesty, the tens of thousands of people who have been taking to the streets have been doing so because they too are fed up of the situation, because they too want things to change. They want their basic rights. Yes, basic rights. It is your basic rights to have electricity, water, and a non-corrupt government. Most importantly, everyone at the protest was alive again and feeling hopeful, a sense we had long forgotten.

I do want to build on this topic a lot further, but I have a feeling that in the coming weeks I’ll have several opportunities to do so, in addition to my opinion on the protests, and how the media have been handling the situation.

What I do want to discuss now is our individual responsibilities. I don’t want to generalize but please do allow me to say, that us Lebanese have no understanding of individual responsibility or our individual civic duty.  When the smoking ban was implemented, officials enforced it for a while, once they stopped or once they got bribed, most of us went back to smoking indoors.  Everyone else is, so why should we not? We take pride in drinking and driving or multitasking while driving, so since no one seems to be enforcing the new driving laws, let’s just go ahead and do as we wish, because hey! we can!! Unfortunately, this is our behavior towards everything.

For people who were not aware of the amount of recycling plants Lebanon has, I believe the past few weeks allowed the whole country to know that that option does exist. We can all start by recycling in our homes and offices. We can make a difference collectively.

For all of you who have been going to the protests, for crying out loud, stop throwing trash, especially plastic bottles all over the ground. You can’t protest the garbage crisis and then leave the protest grounds in such a mess.  Several volunteers have taken it upon themselves to clean up after you but it’s time you lead by example.

Farewell Baklava?

As I take a bite of a piece of baklava, I try to remember the last time I had one. This isn’t a story about Baklava or about the origins of Baklava. No, it’s not remotely close to that.

Have you ever bought or made baklava for your own pleasure, to enjoy on your own? I know I haven’t. Baklava is made to be shared with family, with friends, with our neighbors. Baklava is made to be enjoyed in the company of other people.

If you compare that to chocolate, which are individually wrapped with a colorful appeal, they were meant to be eaten alone. As you take a bite of chocolate, you’re in pursuit to find that perfect oomf which you usually don’t get.

The different chocolate wrappers have different tastes to achieve the different emotions you want to get as you savor that bite. Baklavas are consistent in taste that fail to surprise you. Baklava being the predictable option.

As our society  is gradually evolving towards an individualistic culture, the less we start seeing Baklavas on tables being shared. People tend to live in their box, pursuing happiness on an individual level, with a twist, rather than share comfort and joy with others.

Will baklava completely disappear from our tables one day? Will it make a comeback? Or will we continue saving baklava for special occassions?

12 things I’ve learnt in Lebanon

I moved to Lebanon a year ago and here are 12 things I’ve learnt since I’ve moved here:

Everyone’s mother is a better cook
Your colleagues show up to work with tupperwares filled with their mom’s cooking. You’re encouraged to taste their mom’s dish of the day stirring a debate on who’s mother cooks it best.

Your mind excels in currency conversions
When I first moved here, I found myself hesitating at the supermarket cashier for a moment while I mentally converted $ to LL currency, not to mention I would always convert them to Kuwaiti Dinars so I get an understanding of what I’m paying. A year later $ and LL seem to be the same currency in my mind.

Wait before crossing the road
Lebanon might be the best place to teach people not to jaywalk. You learn to stand at the sidewalk, look both ways, and then look both ways again, not because you might get a jaywalking ticket, but to triple check no crazy driver is headed your way.

Road Rage is an Art
You will find yourself adopt the Lebanese style of road rage – honking and getting creative with your screaming slurs.

Seize the Moment
You learn to become spontaneous. I can’t count the amount of times I thought I’d be spending the evening in front of the TV, only to find myself dancing until dawn several hours later and loving it.  I’ve also had quite a few days where I thought I’d be spending it at home doing the laundry, only to find myself spending the day on a road trip.

The Souk El Tayeb Experience
You go to Souk el Tayeb and feel like you’re contributing to local farmers and produce when you purchase a mere half kilo of janarek.  While doing so, you get into a debate on if its janerek or janaring  and find yourself explaining to foreigners what it is.

Seasonal Fruits
Speaking of which, you become an expert on seasonal fruits. You know the season of every fruit and when is the best time to buy them and at what rate

You become patient
You learn to be so patient that even the Dalai Lama can’t compete. Everything takes so much time to get done here whether it’s waiting for the maintenance guy, getting paperwork down, or simply waiting for a website to load.

Survive the darkness
I’ve learnt to continue to do things in the dark. when the electricity used to go out when I first moved here, I used to freeze, stop what I was doing or stop speaking until the generator switched on. A year later I find myself continuing on in the dark.

You’re more athletic than you think
You become an Olympian gold medalist when they electricity goes out – run & jump over obstacles to switch off some electrical appliances before the generator comes on

Everyone is a meteorologist 
You would be chilling enjoying the breeze and everyone at the table starts discussing the breeze you’re feeling “hayda hawa jnoubi. halla2 tet2allab el ta2es w tit7assan”

Can you cook? Really?!
You’re only an expert in the kitchen if you learn how to make ma7ashi from A to Z. It doesn’t matter if you can cook up some real great dishes from anywhere else in the world. Bonus: You will get complimented at how good you hollow a zucchini and rolling grape vines.

 

 

Excuse me while I float in a peaceful sea

He was stunned when I told him I currently do not have any future goals or plans. He stated that I’m not ambitious and that an intelligent person as myself should not just be floating around life aimlessly. I looked at him and smiled, for how could he understand?

How could he understand that for over a decade I was constantly swimming against a tidal wave in the midst of the perfect storm?

How could he understand that for that entire period, I hated bedtime because my dreams exhausted me?

How could he understand that for the longest time, people used me as an example of what ‘bad luck’ is when they tried to console others?

How could he understand that my own dad consoled my brother by telling him that his ‘strong’ sister was constantly aching, in pain, and disappointed?

How could he understand that when I used to dance the night away, I used to dance to forget and vent out?

How could he understand?

Excuse me,

Excuse me while I dance feeling free as if I’ve torn the bandage off,

Excuse me while I shine my happiness onto others,

Excuse me while I forget what pain and disappointment feels like,

Excuse me while I feel blessed for getting a long good night’s sleep,

Excuse me while I appreciate this rare period of peace in my life,

Excuse me while I float in a peaceful sea.

 

Turbulence

Four years ago, if you had asked my friends what kind of person I was, they would have told you that I was a control freak, a workaholic, and someone who was extremely busy with life’s flow. That isn’t to say that I didn’t have a social life. I did. I made time for my family and friends. My days were filled with deadlines and my free evenings were full of social events.

One afternoon, on a flight home after a weekend away, it dawned on me that I had the opportunity to drop everything and take a year off. I had been through a tough year  in every sense possible.  I had been wanting to take a sabbatical to do some traveling and learning for a while but never had the courage to do so. It dawned on me, that I was 30 years old, I was done with any financial obligations I had had, and did not have anyone relying on me. When would I get an opportunity like this again?  I thought it’s now or never.

Everything you need to know about the Armenian Genocide

With ISIS close by and wars occurring in neighboring countries, I continuously am told that Armenians should get over something that took place 100 years ago, and instead focus on current events that need our attention.  It has also come to my attention that many people are not well informed about the genocide. Hence why I felt the need to write up an informative post  regarding the genocide and the importance to recognize it.