Submerging Into Istanbul

Upon landing in Istanbul this morning, I wasn't looking forward to going to Ak Merkez or Istanbul's consumerist culture hotspots; I purposely wanted to submerge into the deep abyss of Istanbul's rich Ottoman history. It is for this reason that I packed my camera, hopped in the car, and cruised around the city around sunset. The city was wrapped in colorful banners for the upcoming municipal elections. For those and Istanbul's sunset skyline, I used color photography to reflect the modernism. For Sinan's brilliant gothic architecture, black and white photography would only suffice. I wished to capture my memories, through my eyes. Why B&W...well because these monuments belong to another era, I wished to place them in their respective epoch.

 I want to preserve their ancientness. What I couldn't resist shooting in color was the sunset by the Sulmaniye mosque as the sun was subsiding by its side. 

Also, it was worth the stop on the fly over for a glimpse of the fishers conglomerating in the cold over their passion of fishing. 

Upon reaching my destination of the Egyptian Bazaar, I entered into a plethora of exoticism with the spice markets, mosaic lanterns, jewelry sellers. It was just like being in Khan El Khalili with people shouting even in Egyptian Arabic. This exactly what I wanted to do upon my arrival. This is just the beginning of my discovery of backstreet Istanbul...

Reflections from my stream of consciousness

As the greyhound bus’s engine bustles in the background, I find the sudden urge to reflect about the past and future. I dip my hand into messenger back only to find that my moleskin will not accompany this time to Istanbul.

Just as I was dreaming that life couldn’t be more stationary and that I would spend the rest of my life in Charlottesville, my alarm rings at 7:50 am. The notion of living in a world where it was possible to grey by living in the same spot was almost as daunting as a nightmare. It was time for change, and it could not have been delivered in a more pleasant way than that knowing, in a matter of hours, I would be flying to a city that I hold so dear to my heart, Istanbul. The actual hassle of having to get out of bed was a different story, so even though my bus would leave in less than an hour, I preferred to lie in bed dreaming some more, but this time about Istanbul.

On the bus, I look up to the sky and see the grey clouds pass by. It excites me that I will be among them in a couple of hours. I wonder if they will have the distinct pleasure of accompanying me to Istanbul. May the winds bless them.

As I sit contemplating of the possibilities and ecstasies one can experience by traveling, I get anxious, in a good way of course. I just can’t wait for this bus to pull out of the station so I can begin describing the gorgeous Virginian scenery.

As we drive through Afghani Grand Market International Bazaar, the Main Street Market, Bistro Zinc, Blue Moon Diner, and a Baptist Church. We then pass a railroad crossing. Railroads are my favorite. They put you on an infinite train of thought about the endless possibilities of travel that merely hopping on a train can put you on. I lose concentration to the chattering of a Hispanic in the background.

I then realize that writing on the computer isn’t such a bad idea, at least my ideas don’t look like chicken scratches when I’m done jotting them down. Also, it benefits you the reader since I don’t feel inclined to conceal them from you when their put on

We pass the statue of Lewis and Clark, the great pioneers who discovered America. It sits lonely guarding the Downtown Mall this morning against the backdrop of Charlottesville’s mystically aesthetic Blue Ridge Mountaiins. Oh how beautiful Charlottesville can be this early this morning. Am I going to miss it? I wonder to myself.

We then pass through the Virginian suburbs with their uniformly structured, multi-colored houses, each with their traditional Southern rocking chair on the porch.

As we get on the high way, the forests envelop us. They remind me of the forests where the Dinosaurs of my childhood used to live in Vienna. The amazing thing about merely looking out the window on a long journey like this is that you’re not just journeying through Virginia’s landscape, but also through your memories. Each image your eyes lock on springs another memory to mind. Simply tying these stimuli into a chain can put allow you to visualize a film of your life in memories. The physical landscape is merely a reflection of how you feel. I have come to love the landscape that I have become so familiar with from my frequent trips to and fro DC. If you find it aesthetically pleasing, then you have achieved internal peace of mind. If it frustrates you, then you are at unease. It is like looking into a well at the reflection of your life at the bottom of the abyss.

The trees are leafless and their silhouettes against the morning blue sky remind me of loneliness as they wait for spring to come around the corner to grow new leaves. For what is a tree without its leaves? The velvet brown horses in the meadows remind me of elegance, nobility and tranquility in the way hey stroll around. The geese in the sky guide me with initiative, direction, and the sense of being on a mission. The vast yellow-grassed meadows teach me humility and the awe that beholds me at the notion that there is a greater power out there and that we are merely specs in its ultimate design. Oh how beautiful Virginia must be to stir up so emotions in me. As we penetrate deeper into the countryside and the sun begins to also penetrate through the cloudy skies, the world seems to come to life. Lakes, creeks, and meadows… this is a scene to beautiful to be missed out on… time for some photography.

Goodbye Shogun

As of yesterday, I had to mourn the loss of one of my most valued assets that accompanied me almost everywhere around UVa's campus. As I cruised on 13th street on the Corner in a hurry to return to campus for an appointment, I was pedaling with all the strength I could. The sun was bright, the street was a rainbow of cars with different colors, the weather was blistering cold. As I was absorbing all of these stimuli of the weather around me, boom! I lost consciousness for about a split second. The last thing I could remember before blacking out was flying onto the sidewalk with my feet strapped into the buckles of my Shogun. Once I regain conscious, I sprung back on my feet trying to configure what had just happened. I was numb before realizing that I scraped my hand. I realized that I had just been hit by a car! For some reason, I felt like this was an achievement that a biker like myself had always anticpated, the kind of story that you could brag about to your grandkids someday. But before my arogance could kick in, the shell shock led me to think solely of God. I couldn't stop thanking his protection of me.

The car's driver, Sean, got out of the car and helped me up. The first words that came out of his mouth were, "Let me give you my information...." I didn't know what he was talking about... I just wanted to get back up and hurry to make it on time to my appointment. He kept insisting to give me his information. He kept apologizing. I could tell that the only thing on the back of his mind was the fear that I was going to sue him. At first I couldn't imagine that all of his courtesy was out of mere altruism until I realized later on that he was fearing that I would take legal action against him because he was obviously wrong taking a turn in the bicycle lane.

The first thing I did upon getting up was checking on my Shogun; to my great dissatisfaction, there was a huge dent in the frame of the bicycle and it when I got on it again, it would wobble while riding it. I was upset, but I didn't want to scare Sean, so I assured him that everything was fine. I was mistaken to know that people don't deal with ethical values in the States, but by the rule of law.

After taking my Shogun to its grave, the Community Bikes warehouse, I was informed that it was done for. I was disappointed to have lost my primary means of transportation. Luckily, I had taken Sean's contacts. Later that night, I phoned him to thank him for being so kind in helping me out during the accident. Luckily, I was fine, but I thought it to be decent and fair for him to compensate me with a new bicycle and I told him frankly that I was entitled to a new road bike that was comparable to my Shogun. Once he realized that I was physically fine and that I would not be able to press charges against him, he showed his true color and began holding back by telling me that he did not owe me anything for the losses I had incurred. It was then that I resorted to the rule of law. If you can't deal with an American on an ethical level, then you'll have to take him on a legal level, where there is no question about one's legal rights.

Even though he was holding back on compensating me for the $200 I had cashed out for the Shogun, his insurance assured me that they were willing to compensate me with a comparable bike, even if it cost over $1000. Trying to talk ethics to this guy got me no where, but when we resorted to the law, it was a just and fair procedure that resulted in a win-win situation. The law gives every person his share of rights. I realized this is one cultural difference between the Arab world and America. Trying to argue with the guy about decency, morality, and ethics got me nowhere, but when we resorted to the law, my prerogatives came to the forte. Hence, it is the justice of the rule of law that really oils the gears that make the American system the most efficient.

I continue to thank God for saving me and I am grateful for the Shogun being the victim instead of me, but if there's anything that I took away from this experience is that I have learned to see a new cultural difference that is expanding my outlook of how America works.

A Walk Down Memory Lane in New York

I can't hold my craving to write any longer, especially after watching this movie. I just finished watching The Visitor, a heart-warming movie about a past life of mine. Through the eyes of the protagonist, Tarek, I was able to relive the New York I adored so much. Simply put, the plot is about the daily lives of immigrants in New York City and their dilemma of being stranded between their new home and their past ones... Now I can't say I can relate on this exact level as I will always know where my home is, but this story dealt with the idiosyncrasies of post 9/11 America. NYC, the portal of immigration, the portal to the land of opportunity, the portal to liberty has become a paranoid city after 9/11. Now I can definitely relate in terms of living in New York, pre and post 9/11. The plot of this tale takes a particular twist particularly when shedding light on the lives of Arabs subsequent to 9/11.

With all its ironies, New York will always have a place in my heart. The movie's particular amazing cinematography displayed the diametric contradictions that are inherent in New York. While the Statue of Liberty stands as the beacon of American ideals of freedom, justice, and democracy, the movie shows the very inhumane and unjust facets of American society. I can attest that living in the States for over 7 years as a foreigner, I never felt a sense of belonging except when I was in New York. There is no better way to describe New York than to describe it as the nucleus of the world, where cultures from the four corners of the world are brought together, meshed, and tossed together like the different colorful ingredients of a salad. I could have never imagined living in a more exuberant city than New York... before 9/11... when antagonizing banners where lifted everywhere with the words "We Will Never Forget." It was almost as if we lived in 1984 with Big Brother always watching you. But I would have to say that this paranoia of America has begun to fade away as time passes, so I am optimistic!

But back to the movie...The scenes of the movie were truly like a walk down memory lane for me. In a word, the story is about a college professor fed-up the monotonous life of one of America's college towns, which I can definitely relate to in terms of the stillness of UVa at times...but for the time being, I have come to accept that it is my fate to be here, at least for the time being, so he finds liberation from this dull life by breaking lose in Manhattan... So just when I realized that "I" was the sole determinant of my happiness, I was proven wrong by seeing scenes of Manhattan in the movie, and like flashbacks from distant memories, they made me so content! Scenes of Washington Square of NYU's campus brought back such nostalgia when I used to aspire to attend NYU someday... Oh well, who ever though life would bring me here to UVa...You never know what life has in stock for you...it works in mysterious ways.

The movie chronicles the adventures of this college professor when trying to liberate himself in the city. It is natural to do so because big cities like New York are such a crossroads for different cultures and walks of life that it is so natural that you will run into some spontaneously strange combination of events that will define a new chapter of your life. At least that's what I've learned from my own soul-searching liberation trips to DC. The movie epitomizes this notion so succinctly by bringing together so many different people from different backgrounds. The characters are a combination of a middle-aged white American, a Syrian and Senegalese couple, and a Syrian woman. The crisis of the unfair deportation of the Syrian Tarek is what sets the stage for the remaining unfolding events of the story.

I don't think that there had every been a movie that I could relate to more than this one, especially since what sparks the whole row about Tarek's deportation is his arrest in a NYC Subway station for supposedly jumping a turnstile, which is so coincidental since the only time I had been arrested in my life was during the New Year's eve of the 2003 during which I, Lusuki, and Mike (two of my friends from UNIS) were also arrested for jumping a subway turnstile (fortunately, I did not end up getting deported).

About the whole issue of deportation, I did not like how the Syrians made it seem like it was hell going back the Arab World. I take pride in my home land and wouldn't mind going back, but to make it seem like the worst place on earth was a bit pathetic. I take America for what it is, but I know where my roots belong. But I know the case in Syria might not be sufficient to compare to Egypt. I know that Syria is unfortunately a more oppressive state to live in, but what amazes me is that the Syrian immigrants that I have met here in the United States are some of the most respectable and intellectual people I have come across. Both my Arabic professors here at UVa were Syrians and I owe it to them for making me love my mother language. Imagine the potential that a country like Syria might have if it were not for their draconian government. Its sad to see that Syrians have to settle for less by coming here. Similar to the Syrian characters in the movie, my current Syrian Arabic professor had to seek asylum here in the U.S. for political reasons.

Aside from the lessons I drew from this terrific movie, I learned that one must always explore different channels of learning. I haven't watched a movie since watching The Reader quite sometime ago, simply because I thought movies were a waste of time and that it was through books that I would be able to expose myself to the world and life. I was wrong. Movies open your eyes as you see the lives of characters unfold before you and it is like you are there in New York City living among them. The colors, sounds, voices, music all put you on a stream of consciousness that leads on a unique journey to New York. These two hours of the movie allowed me to relive the four years I had lived in New York, but now seem like such a distant memory. Fortunately, I had the opportunity to come across this movie, which taught me more about myself than I knew a movie could do!

تحليل مسرحية عنترة

مسرحية عنترة تحفة أمير الشعراء أحمد شوقى حيث يعرض المسرح الشعري و الغنائي العربي في أحسن صورة أمكن لكاتب مسرحي أن يعرض هذا النوع من الفن و الأدب العربي. قد يمزج شوقي علم لغة العربية القديم مع فن المسرح الجديد عندما يضم تقنيات المسرح الأوروبي مع العربية الجاهلي. علاوة على ذلك، عنترة مسرحية تتألف من المأساة، الحب، غناء، رقص و جميع المكونات التي يجب على أي مسرحية مثيرة أن تكون عندها. إن شوقي كان يحاول أن ينافس شخصية عنترة التاريخية في كتابتة عندما اختار أن يكتب المسرحية بشكل شعري و بالعربية الجاهلية. لقد كان عنترة شاعر و فارس مشهور في جزيره العرب قبل قدوم الإسلام للعرب. لا نعرف كثير عن هذا الفارس المبهم الا أنه كان شجاع و وسيم. لذلك، نعتمد على شوقي ليرسملم لنا صورة خيالية لهذا الشخص التاريخي و يحيية في أذهاننا.


يقدم لنا شوقي حبكة المسرحية بإنها في زمن قبل الإسلام عندما كان العنصرية شيء طبيعي. بسبب ولادته لأم سوداء، عنترة كان له ظروف صعبه في تربيتة و لكن تعوض لهذه العيوب بملامحة الوسيمة، و قوتة الشرسة التي يقارنها شوقي لشراسة الأسد، و شعره الشهير. مسرحية عنترة كذلك مسرحية دراماتيكية لأنه تحكي قصة حب بين عنترة و عبلة مثل ما تحكي مسرحية "روميو و جولييت" الشهيرة. مثل ما روميو ينتظر محبوتة تحت نافذلها، عنترة ينتظر عبلة خارج مضارب بني عبس. شعره العميق أيضا يعرض حبه العذري لعبلة. و لكن حبهم لبعض ليس متبادل. هدة واقعية مسرح شوقي الذي يتميز عن "روميو و جولييت" لأن عندما شخصيتان شكسبير يحبان بعد هما بإخلاص، سخرية مسرحية شوقي هي أن تمثل واقع الحياة. نشاهد أن عبلة تحب عنترة فقط لإنجازاتة الشعرية و الحربية و لا تحبة لشخصيتة العاطفية. برغم إنها لا تهتم بعنترة بنفس حبه العميق، حبه لها سبب وضع عبلة "كنارا على رأس علم". نشاهد مواضيع أخرة تبيين النواحي المختلفة في مسرحية دراماتيكية مثل عنترة. حوار صخر مع عبلة يعرض غيرتة من عنترة. و ايضا، حب عنترة لعبلة يبيين شجاعتة في نهاية القراءة عندما ينوي أن يضحي بنفسه في سبيل إنقاذ عبلة. هذه الأمثلة تببيين لنا أبعاد انسانية مختلفة لشخصيات المسرحية.


المسرحية أيضا ترسم صورة تاريخية واقعية عندما تبيين الخلافييات الطائفية بين القبائل العربية المختلفة. مراجعة شوقي لمواضيع الزمن الجاهلي تعرض أصالة أفقاره حيث يشير إلى الدين العربي قبل الإسلام عندما عبلة تصلي "لطارا"، و هو أحد من إلة العرب القدماء. ايضا، استخدام شوقي للغة القديمة شيء مهم في المسرحية لأنه يعرض لنا العبارات التي كانت تستخدم في ذلك الوقت و لنستفيد من أصل لغتنا العصريه. كلمات مثل مطرح و هاتف لها معنى مختلف في الجاهلية، و لكن تعرفنا من أين أصل إستخدامنا لهذه الكلمات في العربية الآن. كذلك نشاهد ثروة اللغة العربية عندما نقرأ كلمات تعبر عن أوصاف كثيرة بكلمة واحده. كمثال، صفة "الحاشية" تعبر عن أن شخص يأتي من بيت ثري و أن ثيابة رقيقة و ناعمه. نرى أن في الجاهلية، الكلمات البسيطة ترسم لنا صورة عميقة. إذن، إستخدام شوقي لأدوات مسرحية مختلفة ترسم صورة واقعيه عن حبكة خيالية.


برغم إننا شاهدنا فقط نموذج قصير من مسرحية عنترة، يجب على أن أصدق علي أن كتابة شوقي تعرض ناحية من لغتنا مدفونة تحت قرون الزمن و لكنها مهمة جدا لأنه أساس لغتنا الجميلة اليوم.

تقدم كتابة وشهر شخصية فدوى طوقان في عالم الأدب العربي

حينما قرأنا قصائد فدوى طوقان في مساق النثر الحديث، أردت أن ابحث عن حياتها الأدبية من خلال مذكراتها و هذه نتيجة:

تقدم كتابة وشهر شخصية فدوى طوقان في عالم الأدب العربي

تعتبر فدوى طوقان من اشهر أداب الشعر العربي في القرن العشرين. حينما كانت مصر المركز الثقافي للكتاب العرب، نجحت فدوى أن تنشر كتابتها خلال علاقتها الشخصية مع جميع نظرائها في مجالات الشعر والرواية العربية. تعترف فدوى أن شهرتها في هذه المجلات بسبب "إخلاصها لمصر العظيمة" حيث قضت جميع عطلها هناك. تأثير مصر على كتابتها ظهر من خلال سحر القاهرة الذي أسس علاقتها النفسية بينها وبين المدينة. علاوة على ذلك، إنتشرت كتابة فدوى من خلال صحافة مصر الأدبية، مثل مجلة "الرسالة". صحافة مصر كانت وسيلة إنتشار قصائد فدوى، وتعرف القراء العرب بشخصيتها.


تشجيع فدوى الأول كان شقيقها، ولكن موته في بداية طريقها الأدبي أثر عليها بشكل عميق عندما تعترف أنه كان "أستاذها ومعلمها الأول والأخير". نلاحظ من هذة المشاعر انها مدينة لشقيقها ولمصر لنجاحها الأدبي. بعد رحيل شقيقها، مردت فدوى "بانعزال خانق" بسبب عدم وجود أي فكر أو ثقافة أدبية في "سجن الحريم والحجاب" التي فرض عليها من خلال المجتمع والبيئة المحافظة في الوضع الراهن في العالم العربي وتعامله بحقوق النساء. في هذا السجن، اكتشفت أن هناك "لا ستسشف من خلال رأيه فيها مدى توفوقي أ فشلي". حينما فرت من هذة البيئة المضرة لطموحها الأدبي، ذهبت فدوى إلى مصر.


عندما ذهبت الى مصر في عام ١٩٦٨ بعد هزيمة النكسة، حلم عمرها، وايضا حلم أي مواطن عربي، تحقّق عندما إجتمعت بالزعيم العظيم جمال عبد الناصر. قبل تحقيق حلمها، كان هناك تفاعل أدبي بينها وبين كتاب مشهورين من مصر مثل فاروق شوشة، وأحمد حسن الزيات، وصلاح عبد الصبور، وأحمد بهاء الدين. هذا التفاعل ساعدها من ناحية تشهير قصائدها في الإذاعة المصرية. شهورة فدوى كان له سبب آخر. مقابلتها مع وزير دفاع إسرائيل ديان سبب أزمة سياسية في العالم العربي. تناقض فدوى رد فعل العرب السخيف عندما تكتب: "فهكذه نحن دائما، نستجيب لردة الفعل السريعة لدينا، دون الوقوف لحظات الخبر أو الحدث للتأمل فيه." برغم ذالك، كثير من الشعراء والمذيعين رحبوا بها عندما زارت دار الإذاعة المصرية. من خلال لقاء فدوى مع الصحفيين، سمعة فدوى إنتشرت حتى سمعت جيهان السادات عن وجودها في مصر، عندما دعتها إلى تناول فنجان شاي. تحدثت فدوى عن لقائها مع ديان.


من خلال كرم السادات، ظهرت فرصة فدوى عندما دعاها الرئيس ناصر في بيته. تصف فدوى مقابلتها مع ناصر بالتفصيل. وصفها عن ناصر مثل ما كنت اتخيل الزعيم في ذهني. توصفه وبيته بصفات مثل: بسيط، متواضع، خالي من أي مظاهر الفخفخة. تصور فدوى ناصر كأب مهتم بأبنائه عندما يسألها عن احوال الفلسطينين في الضفة الغربية. يظهر أن حب ناصر للفلسطينيين وحبهم إليه كان متبادلا لأنهم يهتفون باسمه في المظاهرات. فلسطين أولوية من وجهة نظر ناصر، حتى قبل رجوع سيناء للمصريين. ايضا مذكرات فدوى تبين لنا حال مصر السياسي والإقتصادي. بسبب الغمة، حال مصر الداخلي كان مريعا وكانت تعتمد على مساعدة من الإتحاد السوفييتي. اهم شيء من هذه السيرة الذاتية أن نعرف حال العالم العربي التاريخي. نرى أن إجتماعها مع ناصر سبب موهبتها الشعريه التي تعرضها عندما تعبر عن مشاعر الفلسطينيين تحت الإحتلال. هذه الشهرة ايضا سببت لقائها مع زعماء الشرق الاوسط مثل ديان وأشهر كتاب العالم العربي في وقتها.

The Modern Nahda

Sometimes I wish that I could write down the dialogues that Omar and I exchange on our road trips back and forth to and from DC. But one expression that Omar mentioned to me kept whirling in my head this whole week and it ran something along the lines of "Sometimes I feel the weight of the world on my shoulders when I remember the responsibility bestowed upon us." What exactly did he mean by this? At least the way I interpreted it suggested that this "weight" is what defines our purpose here. Why have I left Egypt to come half way across the world to study in Charlottesville? I sometimes ponder. Then I remember that I am part of a greater movement. It is people like Omar and me that fuel the engine for the awakening, the renaissance, call it what you will..., but heed my words, there is a subtle movement bubbling from the grassroots that will revolutionize the world.

There is no denying that the Arab and Muslim world is going through its dark ages. Although I do not wish to convert this blog entry into another "clash of civilizations" story of how we are the underdogs in comparison to the West, why deny that we have yet to have a revolution on the scale of the European Renaissance, Enlightenment, and Scientific Revolution? I believe that our forefathers had sowed the seeds for such a revolution, but it had never really materialized. Our revolution was called Al-Nahda.

I have familiarized myself with this movement through my readings of memories, autobiographies, and documentaries that I have read in my Arabic studies here at the University of Virginia. It is truly an eye-opener to see the plethora of great works that came out of the Arab World since its decline since the so-called Golden Age that spanned from the 8th century to the 13th century. The Nahda was an intellectual moevement that took place during the early 20th century in Egypt and Lebanon to define an Arab identity through literature. This was an intellectual movement aimed at reform, modernization, and the revival of the Arab fortitude in a modern world where ideologies were competing for supremacy.

The Nahda encouraged an open eye to learn from the world, which was essentially what brought Islam to the forefronts of the world when it embraced everything from Greek to Hindu philosophies.

Why do I embrace the Nahda? Partly because I feel like I am bestowed with an opportunity that the 19th century proponents of the movement were given. I was bestowed with the opportunity to study in the civilizational beacon of knowledge. I am given the unique opportunity to study the Western intellect through science and education. Before my eyes, I have seen one of the most epic shifts in power in the world, the transition of the U.S. government from regime to another. Some in my part of the world couldn't even fathom seeing such a shift in their governments in their lifetime. It is my submergence in Western life and its instutions that motivates me to bring back to Egypt with me a toolkit of methods to modernize, reform, and advance the state of our nation. My tone is ambitious, but my heart is determined.

Upon his return from Paris, Rifa El Tahtawi, an emissary by Mohamed Ali Pasha suggested that we have a lot to learn from the West, but that we should always keep an open-minded approach to modernism that is tailored to the values of Islam.

My particular interest in the Nahda stems from my readings. I have taken several Arabic literature and prose classes at the university and they have exposed me to a period where Arabic literature had seemed to reach its prime. Since Arabic is the lingua franca of most of the Middle East, the exchange of ideas and information quickly led to the ascendence of the Nahda in major cities like Cairo and Beirut and there was an ardent interaction between the two sides through the circulation of literary publications, as I shall outline in my later entries. Magazines such as Al Resalla (The Message), Loghatna al-Gameela (Our Beautiful Language) and al Fagr (The Dawn) exposed Arab readers to the talents around their world. Today, these magazines have sadly disappeared. Moreover, due to the partitioning of the Arab world by the West, many sought opportunities abroad.

My particular interest stems from the Lebanese diaspora, and especially those who traveled to the West. Some of the greatest writers the Arab World has ever seen has been those in exile. This is where the likes of Khalil Gibran Khalil sprung from. To some extent, I feel the same distance from my home like them. I wouldn't be surprised if this same nostalgia that I feel is what inspires me to read and wrte so much about my home land.

Homegrown talents such as Naguib Mahfouz, Taha Husseuin, and other Egyptians pushed this movement forward. But it is worth noting that Taha Husseuin also experience the same Western exposure that I am undergoing myself. The West offers a distinct atmosphere for the exchange of ideas, where you have access to every piece of information known to humankind at your finger tips. This is an advantage that no other civilization can offer nowadays. Despite my reservations about living in the West, I know that this is the suitable environment to develop one's intellect.

The essence of the Nahda was an exposure of the Arab World to the free thought and health competition of ideas that propelled the West to forefronts of the world. Unfortunately, the paranoia of modern day fundamentalist ideologies, both religious and secular have chocked any breathing space for new ideas to be brought to the table that could potentially change the current system. My experience here in the States has been an one that has taught me to be open, rational, progressive, and a distinct love for knowledge. I hope to bring back this spirit of intellectual inquiry to have some impact back home. But my quest from knowledge is far from complete. As I learn more and more about this movement of the Nahda, I will strive to emulate it more and more in my endeavors.

Egypt Needs Systems Engineering

As I stood in the queue to purchase a metro ticket at exactly 7:30 am in Heliopolis's Kobba El Saray station, I could not believe that Cairo could be so serene. This was of course before the hustle and bustle of the rush hour. I awaited in a short line to purchase my 1 L.E. ticket to board the punctual metro that would take to Midan el Tahrir, where I would attend another day of classes at the American University in Cairo. Just as I was about to conclude that that Cairo could have its tranquil moments, a Cairene bumbs into me, actually pushes me, cuts the short queue and starts shouting at me for "standing in the way." I began to question his logic, before the strangest thing happened. Another Cairene cuts the two of us and the two men begin quarreling about who should be first in line. As I stood back watching them in bewilderment, I could not understand how they could get so worked up at such an early hour and how were both at fault. The one thing that stuck me in their aggressive dialogue was that the word "system" was thrown around nonchalantly by the two of them. One would remark, "The system is broken!" And the other would reply, "The is no system, brother!" Anyways, by the time they settled who'd be first to purchase the one pound ticket, the 7:30 metro passed all three of us.

Ever since my youth, there have always been criticisms of this abstract notion called "the system"? No one ever really pinpointed what this idea was. It was one of those up-in-the-air notions that everyone criticized when they were frustrated. Whether it was the cab drivers, the politicians, the economists, or my uncles after dinner, the same debate would circulate around how the system is broken. Ever since my youth, I had wished to know exactly what the problem was so I understand its nature to find the solution. The fact that we in Egypt have never defined what the problem is in essence our problem! Apparently, the system and its subsystems (be it the educational or political system) are in peril in Egypt.

Always, there are complaints about the system's incompetence, intricacy, bureaucracy, lack of vision, . All of these factors undermine Egypt's potential to mobilize its people into a productive, efficient, and powerful force. This is detrimental to the state's allocation of resources to efficient use. This is the reason why Egypt is always struggling to stay afloat when it comes to providing for its citizens and making leaps in economic development. Now I can go on and on listing the problems, but that doesn't contribute to finding a solution for them. In a word, the problem is that we need an organized and efficient system that can allocatively and productively bring Egypt to its full capacity.

I commend Prime Minister Nazif's efforts for achieving Egypt's ranking as the number 1 reformer in the world in 2008, but all that Egypt has been focusing on thus far is structural reform. Structural reform of the economy is like shuffling around a deck of cards. You create new industries, they emerge, they grow, and they die. Its a life cycle. The trends of growth are known by economists to be that of moving people out of agriculture into industry, creating new smart villages, stimulating the economy via fiscal policy, shedding workers out of corporations, etc... These economic tools are effective for short-term improvements in the socio-political status of the country, yet these structural changes are merely an effort to beat around the bush and not address the source of the problem, which is the need for systematic change. Systematic change has a much broader perspective and is comprised of economic, social, political, and cultural institutions.

The System is comprised of the rules and practices that constitute the economic behavior. The system is what needs to undergo change. The aim of our system is to change is so that it can become more integrated to the world economy so that the best practices are implemented. Egypt is a welfare state that relies on government that isn't always capable of always providing for its citizens. This is when the government needs to play less of a role by retain the role of establishing the ground rules for markets to determine the rules of the business game and punish those who endorse undesirable behavior. The government must only play the role of the "watchful eye" that Obama mentioned in his inaugurations speech and not favor some over the others when it comes to providing opportunities.

I understand that I have taken a purely economic perspective in this analysis, but my aim is to convey the message that Egypt's System is comprised of a set of powerful interconnected factors that if only one of the subsystems is addressed with without regard to the "whole", then fixing the system will be a futile effort. Therefore, tinkering with a few subsets of the system will not yield sufficient change to the whole system. Everything from the way children are raised to how industries needs to be taken into consideration so as to revamp the whole program.

No excuses can be made to avoid blame of our incompetence. We cannot escape from our past. When our Mubarak uses the argument that Egypt is so underdeveloped because it had endured many wars in the past, I say look to the Japanese who had suffered the atomic bomb. Look where they are now. Look at the Chinese who had endured the wrath of Mao's terror during the Cultural Revolution. Look where they are now. These nations have revamped their system and decided to join the ranks of the civilized industrialized nations. In order to accomplish this marco-level revamping, we need what I call systems or social engineers.

My keen interest in the field of Systems Engineering was essentially to fix the problem that the "system" entails. I remember that I was once laughed by the mayor of Fairfax when I responded to his inquiry of what I wanted to do after graduation by telling him that I was interested in policy making. In America, engineers are taken to be introverted technical personnel that are referred to by policy makers. Whereas in the developing world it is the engineers that have come to lead. Technocratic governments are the new trend when it comes to countries like China and Egypt. It is through the technical tools that we acquire in our rigorous engineering disciplines that enable us to solve societal problems within a technology-scoped framework. I think it is our responsibility to solve this "system problem" through problem solution mindsets in this Information Age.

It is Systems Engineering that bridges the gap between the human and the machine in the effort to revamp the institutions of a nation from its attitude, psychology, social behavior, within the framework of modern institutions, such as the rule of law to discourage undesirable behavior. What is most important in the case of Egypt is respect for the law. People must understand that working within the framework of the system is in their advantage and that cheating the system is detrimental. Moreover, the great compromise will be for the government to serve the nation instead of opposite.

I truly pray that my studies in Systems Engineering are not in vain and that I may someday be able to pursue my dream of participating in the movement that will put Egypt back among the ranks of the world's key players both economically and politically. Obviously the aforementioned are the ramblings of a 3rd year Systems Engineering student, but hopefully they may sow the seeds for the changes that I dream to see in Egypt one day.

تجربة أدبية

اليوم ساجرب تجربة أدبية. كل مرة اكتب تحليل لصفي العربي، ساكتب نسخه منه علي هذا الموقع لاتابع تطوير كتابتي بللغة العربية. اليوم، ساكتب تحليل لمذكرات نوال السعداوي. بشكل محدد، هذه النثر عن تجربه في السجن المصري.
نص التحليل يسمى سجن النساء

حالة يأس في سجن النساء

وصف نوال السعداوي عن السجن في مذكرتها يرعب القارىء بالوضع الإنساني في السجن المصري. للقاريء الغربي، هذة الصورة تبين أن الحكومة المصرية تخلت عن أي احترام للحقوق الأنسانية. دليل تعذيب المرأة واضح بسبب عدم الخدمات الطبية عندما يصرخ المسجونين للمساعدة. علاوة على ذلك، هناك معاملة سيئة بوضع النساء من الناحية العاطفية. تعرض السعداوي صورة يأس حيث اللة غائب فيها لآنة، عندما تدعي النساء، "السماء تظل مظلمة مصمتة صامتة لا ترد." عدم رد السماء رمز غياب اللة و غياب الآمل للمسجونين عندما تكتب السعداوي "و الهه بغير آذن." تشبه الكاتبة نداء النساء بصفارة الاسعاف لترمز اهمية دعوتهم لمساعدة طبية و لكن غياب الأطباء يسبب عدم فائدة ندائهن.

تموت الإمرآة مثل الحيوان و النساء لسن قادرات علي أي شيء غير أن يبكين. لما تموت المرأة، القارىء يبداء يشعر بنفس اليأس الذي تختبره النساء. الأمل الوحيد للنساء للخروج من السجن هو الموت. تقارن السعاداوي النساء بالحيونات التي تنتظر يوم الذبح أو يوم الموت. رجوع النساء لله يبين عقليتهن القدرية. توفر الحزن و اليأس و كآبة و الموت يظهر صورة مظلمة تبين أن الطريقة الوحيدة للهروب من كوارث السجن من ناحية الموت عندما تقول واحدة اخرى: "استراحت من عذاب الدنيا." أخيرا، السعداوي لا ترسم صورة قاتمة لحياة نساء السجن فقط، بل تناقذض الظروف التي تؤيدها الحكومة

اتمنى انكم استمتعتوا بكتابي. إنشاللة ساكتب مكالات اخرة بالعربية قريبا

Impressions of a deprived writer...

Typing away at midnight, I gasp for air. Writing is what gives me the energy to go on... I have gone many days without writing and I feel incomplete. I have had no person, notebook, or God to share my emotions with lately. I resort to you. Why you? Well, the abysmal darkness of the night gives me the opportunity to write under the veil that hides me from society. Writing for me seems like such a deviation that actually doing it nowadays guilttrips me as a waste of time. Even though I have so much bottled up in my mind ready to be spilled on paper, I must restrain myself, for I know if I let it all go right now, my pen won't stop until the sunrise.

It is something about this nocturnal lifestyle, that when everyone is tucked tightly in bed that I am most alert. I hear the water trickling in the pipes, the leaves rustling outside my window, freshmen giggling next door. Everything is a distraction that inspires me to write. Instead, I am forced to blast Mozart to maintain my train of concentratrion and get back to work, no matter how desperate I am to write!

Another week from hell, but I take it with pinch of sugar this time, knowing that it will end and that I will be able to sit at the end of the week to free all my thoughts to you. I don't want the fire of this passion to die down, so even though I cannot bear the piling work, I pause for a breath of air to write and to promise you dear reader that I will return, and I promise myself that I will never let my passion for writing wane. Back to another college all-nighter of work, but optimism for the end, which seems so near yet so far, is what drives me to persevere.

I look forward to our weekend rendezvous...