A Letter to My Son

You were born in Al-Andalus, a land that was the crossroads of diverse cultures, faiths, and traditions. A land that brought Muslims, Christians, and Jews together in a spirit of tolerance and harmony. A land where Arabic, Castillano, and Hebrew were spoken side by side. A land where the pursuit of knowledge was prized above all. A land that witnessed the rise and fall of some of the world’s greatest civilizations.

 

Where are you from?

 

Your father hails from Egypt and your mother from Spain, two lands on diametrically opposite ends of the Mediterranean. Despite both being parts of the same Roman and Islamic empires, Egypt is now Arab and Muslim and Spain is now Western and Catholic. Your father speaks Arabic and your mother speaks Spanish. When they talk to one another, they speak English.

 

What is your nationality and what is your native language?

 

You are spending the first years of your life in the United Arab Emirates, a young and ambitious country. Even though you are a foreigner here, you are part of the multicultural majority. You have friends from every corner of the world here. You and everyone who lives here belong.

 

Where is your home?

 

You are a child of the East and the West. They are not separate. They might seem like opposite directions on a compass, but they are united in you. They might appear to have different cultures, faiths, and traditions, but they need one another to survive and thrive. They are like the yin and the yang. While they can clash at times, they ultimately complement and enrich one another. Transcend the differences and strive for unity. You were brought into this world to be a bridge between the East and the West, the past and the future. You were brought into this world to bring peace. Go beyond the superficial and strive for the universal and the eternal.

 

You are a citizen of the world.

The Writer Who Stopped Writing

I was at the Abu Dhabi Film Festival just a couple of hours ago watching the award-winning film The Rooftops. The film is set in Algiers where the post-colonial shanty houses of the city’s slums line the expansive blue coast of the Mediterranean. The film follows the stories of five groups of characters living on different rooftops in the city’s main districts. Right from the start, the film captivated my attention. The plot seemed interesting, the cinematography of Algiers’ cityscape breathtaking, and the setting of the film a particular interest of mine.  20 minutes through the film, the ‘Asr call to pray sounded majestically over the Algiers’ rooftops on the silver screen. It was at that point that I was struck with a pang of guilt. I had missed praying the ‘Asr prayer on time. Instinctively, I stood up less than quarter way through the film, picked up my belongings, and exited the cinema.

On my way back to the hotel, as I walked across the Abu Dhabi corniche, I dwelt upon how I had been failing to attend to certain duties. It was at that point that the Isha call to prayer had sung beautifully over the Arabian Gulf that reflected the skyscrapers towering above me. Missing prayers at their appointed times seemed to symbolize many other things that I have been missing in life. My prayers connect me to God. I have come to realize that my writing is what connects me to my soul, and I haven’t been writing as regularly as I would like to.

Last week, I received news that a novel I wrote two years ago would finally be published. Right before I started my career as a consultant, I had written a novel about my love for Egypt. After writing it, I stopped writing. Why? Well, I must admit that when I have to work over 16 hours a day it is hard to experience life, reflect, and write. However, I have reached a point where I feel that my soul has been drained because I have neglected it.  

I find myself returning to this blog to write. There is so much to write about and so little time. However, I have decided that I will start reclaiming my life by writing at least one entry every week. This blog has long served as my training ground as a writer. To it I return with the hope that it will revive a passion that once brought me so much joy. 

I am bold and unafraid. Or so I thought...

There are somethings that I don't like to write about in public, i.e. my emotions... but since I don't have a moleskin to write in, I guess I'll have to spill my thought here. Besides, I've taken an oath in this life to be transparent and sincere... I've got nothing to hide... I dissect my heart on this page and let it seep this page in emotions....

Sometimes I write because I enjoy it, but mostly because I need to. Its at times like these when I feel uncertain and confused that I just need to talk to someone. There's no better friend to lend an ear than the paper. It just listens to you cry your emotions out without critiquing and that's what I need right now.

I haven't felt this way in so long...it kind of scares me because before what happened happened, I felt so secure in the fortress of my maturity, confidence, and conviction. But in a heart beat, all that I felt so certain of seems to have dissipated. The grandeur of my self-perceived aura has gradually whithered away. I am bare as bones... The armor that made me immune from the emotional sensitivities has molten. I am bare once again...Its an awful feeling of insecurity that I thought I would never have to face again in my life....

But there is one ray of light that still gives me hope... that if its meant to be, it will be. Yes, I know, its the fatalist in me coming out once again, but I can't help it. Fatalism is only all I can cling to in these moments of hopelessness.

Thank God the emotional storm has passed, for now at least. But does physical separation necessarily imply metal detachment as well? I don't know... I'm confused. Writing seems to be getting me nowhere.

Enough gibberish for now...

First Impressions of the New Egypt

My stay so far has been a heavy dose of reality. My flowery notions of the revolution are slowly fading away. I thought I would return to a completely revolutionised Egypt. In my mind, I imagined an Egypt free of corruption, poverty, injustice, inequality, and ignorance, but to my bitter disappointment, these are all still traits of daily life. What kills me the most about all of this is that I still feel powerless. I wish I could, with the stoke of a pen, write Egypt's new future as I dream of it. At the very least, my stay here has taught me that both Egypt and I have a very long way to go...

My first impressions of the Revolution are not the best, I'm afraid to say. Coming from London, it feels like I've only been exposed to the rosy images of the revolution. From my ivory tower, I've failed to see the intricacies of the revolution's aftermath. In my mind's eye, I envisioned that the people, buildings, sky, etc... would look differently. The fact of the matter is Egypt, and I, are still soul-searching.

On my way to Tahrir Square, to pay tribute to the revolution's symbol, it seemed like life was back to normal and there weren't that many traces of a revolution. On the way, there were a plethora of commercial billboards with the Egyptian flag and a patriotic slogan, but traffic was chaotic as usual. The real residue of the revolution is in apparent in several burnt buildings across the city. Several police stations were burnt, but one thing that upset me was the sight of the burnt down Suzanne Mubarak Library. I can understand the anger at the former first lady, but did it really justify burning down a whole library with all the wealth of knowledge it contained? Whatever happened to our objective of eliminating illiteracy?

I can go on listing other observations that disappointed me, but I don't think it is helpful. My main concern about the revolution is people's outlook. People seem insecure about the future. Everyone seems to be taking sides and politics has become a tool to divide, rather than unite, the Egyptian people. Sure there is fanaticism, but that shouldn't scare us about the possibilities. The media has fuelled this fire by blowing several negative incidents out of proportion. Its essential to keep our cool, remain bold, and stick to the universal principles of justice, truth, and mutual respect regardless of our political or religious affiliation.

On a brighter note, its been endearing experience seeing posters commemorate the revolution's martyrs. These were the men and women God had chosen to purify Egypt. May He shelter them in the shade of His mercy. Other than that, it seems like the Egyptians have awakened a sense of love for their country. Flags flap on right and left now. On my way from the airport, I passed by two army vehicles transporting soldiers, and I couldn't help but salute them with by waving a small flag my aunt had given me upon arrival.

The past four months since I was in Egypt feel like four decades. Much has changed, and I find myself like a stranger in his own home. As I try to acquaint myself with my new surroundings, I pray that God will guide me to find my place and fulfil whatever destiny is written for me.

From Dream to Reality

So far, this revolution has been a pleasant dream. The footage of freedom fighters liberating my countries on a 15 inch computer screen seems too surreal to be true. Whenever I get the chance, I keep replaying YouTube videos of the revolution to remind myself that what I’ll be returning to tomorrow will be a different Egypt than the one I left in December.

Living in different countries feels like living multiple lives. Leaving a country is like passing away from one life to being resurrected to the next. My life in London seems like an temporary illusion at times. At times, I’ll need to pinch myself to make sure it isn’t just a dream. I keep waiting for the moment when my London dream will end and I’ll be brought back to life. It’s almost like the Ancient Egyptians’ preparation for the hereafter. My ancestors would live their whole lives preparing for the inevitable moment of death to enter into the next world. In my case, I’ve been bracing myself for the moment when I would set foot on my motherland’s soil again.

There’s something mystical about living in Egypt. Every time the airplane’s cabin doors unlock open, I feel like the air that seeps into my lungs brings me back to life. As much as I anticipate seeing my family at the arrival section of the airport, I have many other things to look forward to. I waking up the next morning to the dawn call to prayer, sitting by the window and have the morning glow of the sun’s rays warm me as I sip on tea and listen to a nearby dove coo. When I set out for Cairo’s bustling streets, I love hearing my native language fill my ears. ‘At last, Arabic!’ I think to myself after not hearing my beloved language for so long. I love knowing that I’m no longer a visitor or foreigner, but that this is somewhere I actually belong. I love crossing over the Nile Corniche and see the glistering water of the world’s mightiest river surrounded by deep greenery and palm trees of the Nile Delta. I love thinking to myself, I’m finally home.

For the first time in my life, this return to Egypt will be different. Egypt and its people have changed for the better. My reunion with my nation and people will be a humbling experience. These are the Egyptians who took to the streets to pave a free destiny for themselves. These are the Egyptians who inspired people in the East and West to fight for their rights. These are the Egyptians who made history once again. It seems too good to be true to be returning to this.

I am a firm believer of the Quran’s saying, “Verily with every hardship there is relief.” After all the pain and suffering that Egyptians have gone through, they have finally begun to see the light at the end of what seems like a very long and dark tunnel. Similarly, I have begun to believe that the recent unrest in London over the UK’s government budget cuts is a sign that freedom and justice must be fought for universally. After labouring away over the past few weeks to succeed in my exams, I feel like that all of the effort I have put in my studies in my life will not go to waste. Some day, I believe, I will be able to put my knowledge to the service of Egypt and humanity.

Tomorrow will be a historic day for me. April 1st, 2011 will be the day I return to a free Egypt. This day will also be marked by a gathering of a million people in Tahrir Square to show solidarity with the revolution and to show their commitment to keep the revolutionary fire burning. I hope to be able to join my countrymen tomorrow. I imagine joining them will be like a lost lion finally joining his pride of lions. Although I have not proven my valour and chivalry like the revolutionaries who freed my country, I feel a spiritual connection with these men and women who wrote Egypt’s new history with their blood. Returning to Egypt will be my chance to acquaint myself with the needs of the revolution, to internalize the revolutionary spirit, and return to London with a stronger will to learn as much as I can to put Egypt on the forefront of the international arena.

Despite my deep love for Egypt, this shouldn’t be mistaken with blind nationalism. I love Egypt because I love all humanity. I believe that Egypt, the cradle of human civilization, has the potential to usher a new universal era of righteousness. I seek to do what I can to keep Egypt’s revolution burning so that it could ignite a revolution for universal peace, solidarity, and egalitarianism. Ultimately, I hope that my efforts to serve Egypt will have a greater impact to serve the world.

With these intentions and ideas in mind, I pray that my journey to Egypt will be a fruitful one. Finally, the time has come when I shall awake from my dream of the revolution to join its reality.

Musings of the Mind in Cairo

I don't have a specific topic in mind this time around, but my fingers have been craving to spill some words on this blog.

Every since I've returned to Cairo, its all seemed like one long hazy dream. The majestic Athans that fill the air with their clamoring grandeur, the omnipresent solar and lunar orbs that continuously illuminate the sky, the intermittent desert breeze that caresses one's face as a relief from the intense humidity, the subdued consciousness of one's self that accompanies fasting and praying have all intensified my connection with His supreme will.

Cairo has made me forget the past and neglect the future. One can only keep track of the present. The soul of this city envelops one so tightly like the Angel Gabriel suffocated the Prophet during the Night of Al-Qadr that one loses one's sense of himself and submits to the universe surrounding him. Cairo has enchanted me with its beauty, its vibrance, and its eternity. Inside the eyes of every Egyptian, I witness the whole experience of humankind... Ever since my return, I have started to question everything I felt was so certain in life. My ambitions, my identity, my beliefs, etc... are all being scrutinized against in the context of being back in Egypt. Its kind of a surreal feeling. My days here are passing rapidly, but time seems to have frozen...

I am constantly processing and evaluating ideas about what my purpose in life is supposed to be. If there's one aspiration I have to gain from Ramadan, it is divine guidance. I am in a bind where I can't make up my mind as to how I should shape my destiny. Ultimately, I know that my mission in life is to alleviate Egypt of its plight and poverty. This is a grandiose goal, but I just pray that life will give me the opportunity to take a shot at it. I know that by continuing my studies in London, I can have a greater impact when it comes to fulfilling this mission, but I have come to question the very notion of going to London. When I witness poverty everywhere around me, I come to question what gives me the lofty opportunity of going to study in one of the world's most expensive cities. Maybe my reluctance to go ahead with the London offer is fear of failure... or may be its a genuine belief that I don't deserve such an opportunity when I see compatriots who can't make end's meet. Whatever feelings that may be stirring in my mind, I just pray the God will make clear what is the straight path for me....

Bittersweet Feelings

For some reason, whenever I depart from Istanbul, a profound feeling of melancholy overcomes me, but this time around, I feel prepared to say goodbye to this beloved city. My love for Istanbul is eternal. I consider myself blessed to have witnessed this place. I can attest that no other city gives me the same sense of serenity as Istanbul. I will miss the silhouette skyline of the city’s majestic minarets contrasting with the mellow orange aura of the setting sun. This was the last magical glimpse of Istanbul I experienced with Omar as we drove to Sultan Ahmet Mosque yesterday. Without me realizing the blessings He has bestowed me with, this summer has passed in the span of a heartbeat. I’ve deliberately, although subconsciously, kept myself busy this whole summer with graduate school applications, GMAT studying, reading, etc… to avoid facing the sadness that accompanies the thought of departing Istanbul for good…

At the same time, I find myself optimistic to be returning to Cairo. This time around, I will be a university graduate where a future of limitless possibilities awaits me. I know my time is short, but this time around I intend to get the ball rolling in terms of making sure that I set up the right conditions for my intended future. Networking is key at this phase. My absence from Egypt has almost made me a foreigner to my own motherland, but I am sure that a heavy dose of reality will wake me up. Call me an idealist, but I will not give up with my aspirations of impacting positive change in my country. I just pray that the right opportunities present themselves and I make the best use of them. Who knows what’s next. Work or study... but one thing I’m sure of is that, as a friend put it, my belief in God will make the future arrive as if it is a rosy breeze.

This may be as personal as I may get on my blog, but I guess I needed to pen my emotions of nostalgic goodbye to Istanbul and enthusiastic hello to Cairo…

The Final Lap

It's quite unbelievable that this is actually the final lap of my undergraduate career at UVa. I'm no longer anxious about what the future holds. What will come will come...All I have to do is throw my heart over the fence and the rest will follow.

I realize that I haven't written in a long time. Come to think of it, I haven't penned my thoughts since Guatemala. This semester has taken me by surprise. I thought this last semester would be one filled with leisure and bidding goodbye to my beloved Charlottesville. Surprisingly it has been quite the opposite. I have lofty goals for the outcome of my academics. I want to make sure I wrap things up on the best possible note. Not only has work taken the best of me, but it has totally engrossed me.

Considering that the courses I'm taking this semester are mainly those to satisfy my Middle Eastern studies major, I have been confronted with a plethora of ideas that have my entire existence in question. My identity, beliefs, thoughts, ideologies, pragmatism, etc... have all been put on the line. But I believe when you are pushed to the limit, to question what you hold truest to, only then can you firmly solidify your convictions. The more I learn and know, the more firmly rooted I find myself in what is true, universal, and timeless.

In any case, I don't wish to ramble on and on. I've just taken a break because I just finished my graduate school applications. Its been a long journey applying to different masters programs, but I've reached the point where I can no longer determine my fate. All I had to do was click the "submit" button on my application pages and the rest I leave to God.

Anyways, I've got plenty to work on today... but I'm glad I've had the chance to warm up my fingers for future entries that await to be written.

Writing to you gives me company

Lately, I haven't been as enthusiastic about blogging simply because I've had several storms of doubts about my writing. I started to ask myself, "Why am I writing?" Is this writing getting me anywhere, or is it simply an luxurious pastime. I guess it must have been another gust of melancholy that had overcame me. As a result, I withdrew into my shell and began to write for myself again, i.e. only my moleskin was allowed to access my inner most thoughts.

After exams, I would pack Naguib Mahfouz's Palace Walk, bike to Para Coffee (a cafe on The Corner) and sit by the window to read and write. The window shed sun rays that consoled me with warmth. In the midst of the cafe's commotion, I would sit at peace with myself. That is when introspection would take over me. I would leave this world to visit the world of my mind. What an intriguing world that is!

My imagination would span everything from films, books, music, photographs, conversations, emotions, and dreams. This was a time for my pen to roam freely across the page. No rules, no stress, no expectation...nothing but the freewill.

But I needed inspiration to write so freely. The cafe's environment would profoundly affect my mood. Without the cafe, the free writer in me ceased to exist.

So here I set on my desk, finding no inspiration in my apartment. In the cafe, I wasn't lonely. I shared my environment with others; the espresso machine, the cute waitress, the whistle of the kettle, the ironic photograph of a smiling Guatemalan coffee-grower, my good-cupa-tea, and of course my moleskin and pen. They proved to be good company. But here I sit at home with nothing but emptiness everywhere.

This is why I reach out to you, dear reader. Whoever you may be and wherever you are in this planet. Writing to you gives me company.

Snow

I've realized that staying in one place for 24 hours makes you think a lot. My thoughts aren't innovative, ingenious, or grandiose. Rather, I began to think about the simple things, like washing the dishes, boiling some fava beans and eggs for breakfast, pouring the milk and realizing that its the same degree of white as the snow. When there's no rush, one tends to think about the simple things in life. These are the thoughts of someone stranded on an island.

Rather, I find myself stranded on a snowy island. Snow has engulfed my apartment to the extent that I can't open my front door. I had only heard of such snow storms up north in Montreal and Michigan, but never could have fathomed that they would take place down south in Cville. The silence and emptiness caused by the storm is almost scary. Its as if life has ended

I know that back home in Egypt, this storm would be unbelievable, so I think its worth sharing this experience.

Today, I was supposed to fly out of Cville to the sunny Egypt. Instead, after waking up to an unusual chill, I was shocked to look out my window and see that the snow had climbed quarter way up my window.

Snow quarter way up my bedroom window

At this point, I thought I must be dreaming, but when I went to look out the door, I couldn't open the door. I was trapped inside my house.

I don't think writing about it does much justice. Pictures really are worth a thousand words in this case, so enjoy:

View from my kitchen window

View from my doorstep

I'm the type of person who likes to be on-the-run and always outdoors, so this snow is a bit frustrating, but I think it is also an opportunity. I've never really spent a whole day in this apartment since I moved in, so this may be an excellent opportunity catch up on some reading and watch a film. Come to think of it, I might learn a thing or two about spending time alone. But first, back to packing for Egypt.

الناس في بلادي: عالمية الأدب و التجربة الإنسانية

في صف الشعر العربي، قرأت قصيدة مثيرة عن الشعب المصري، وأردت أن أنشرها كتدوين في هذه "البلوج." عبارات القصيدة قوية و تجعل الإنسان أن يفكر عن غاية الحياة. في نهاية الحية، سنرجع إلى الطين الذي خلقنا اللة منه. إذن, يعطينا الشاعر صلاح عبد الصبور صورة من الوقع عندما يكتب "الناس في بلادي." هنا، سوف أطهر لكم قصيدة عبد الصبور ثم تعليقي عن القصيدة

الناس فى بلادى ـــ صلاح عبد الصبور

الناس فى بلادى جارحون كالصقور

غناؤهم كرجفة الشتاء فى ذؤابة الشجر

وضخكهم يئز كاللهيب فى الحطب

خطاهمو تريد أن تسوخ فى التراب

ويقتلون، يسرقون، يشربون، يجشأون

لكنهم بشر

وطيبون حين يملكون قبضتى نقود

ومؤمنون بالقدر

وعند باب قريتى يجلس عمى "مصطفى"

وهو يحب المصطفى

وهو يقضّى ساعة بين الأصيل والمساء

وحوله الرجال واجمون

يحكى لهم حكاية.. تجربة الحياة

حكاية تثير فى النفوس لوعة العدم

وتجعل الرجال ينشجون

ويطرقون

يحدقون فى السكون

فى لجة الرعب العميق، والفراغ، والسكون

" ما غاية الإنسان من أتعابه، ما غاية الحياة؟

يا أيها الإله!!

الشمس مجتلاك ، والهلاك مفرق الجبين

وهذه الجبال الراسيات عرشك المكين

وأنت نافذ القضاء أيها الإله

بنى فلان ، واعتلى ، وشيد القلاع

وأربعون غرفة قد ملئت بالذهب اللماع

وفى مساء واهن الأصداء جاءه عزرئيل

يحمل بين إصبعيه دفترا صعير

ومد عزرئيل عصاه

بسر حرفى "كن" ، بسر لفظ "كان"

وفى الجحيم دُحرجت روح فلان

(أيها الإله ...

كم أنت قاس ٍِ موحش أيها الإله).

بالأمس زرت قريتى ، قد مات عمى مصطفى

ووسدوه فى التراب

لم يبتن القلاع (كان كوخه من اللبن)

وسار خلف نعشه القديم

من يملكون مثله جلباب كتان قديم

لم يذكروا الإله أو عزريل أو حروف (كان)

فالعام عام جوع

وعند باب القبرقام صاحبى خليل

حفيد عمى مصطفى

وحين مد للسماء زنده المفتول

ماجت على عينيه نظرة احتقار

فالعام عام جوع

تعليقي عن القصيدة

من أهم أسباب نجاح أي كاتب، إستخدام مواضيع و رموز الإنسانية تجعل إسلوب الكاتب عالمي. على سبيل المثال، نجيب محفوظ من أشهر الكتاب العرب حول العالم، وخصوصا في الأوساط الأدبية الغربية، لأن تطبق مواضيع قصصه على "التجربه الإنسانية." يكتب محفوظ عن مشاعر إنسانية عامة يستطيع كل إنسان من كل جنسية أن يشعر بها. يكتب صلاح عبد الصبور قصيدة "الناس في بلادي" بنفس الأسلوب. التشابه بين محفوظ وعبد الصبور والكتاب العظماء هو أنهم يستخدمون العالمية كتقنية أدبية في كتابتهم. في هذا التحليل، سأكتب عن نجاح عبد الصبور أن ينقل لنا قصة القروي مصطفى ليعبر عن مشاعر إنسانية عالمية.

باختصار، التجربة الإنسانية تبدأ بولادة الإنسان في هذه الدنيا. في وسط رحلة الحياة، يصبح الإنسان متحير عن وجوده. في هذه المرحلة في الحياة، يبحث الإنسان عن أجوبة أسرار العالم من خلال الدين والفلسفة. في نهاية الرحلة، يموت كل إنسان. يكتب عبد الصبور عن دورية الحياة بترتيب زمني عندما يكتب القصيدة.

في أول جزء من القصيدة، يكتب الشاعر عن الشعب المصري بشكل عام. يصف الشعب بصفات مثل "جارحون وطيبون." علاوة على ذلك، سلوكهم تجعلهم أن "يقتلون، يسرقون، يشربون، يجشأون" مثل البشر في أي ركن من أركان العالم. يستخدم الكاتب تقنية التشبيه عندما يصف "غناؤهم كرجفة الشتاء في ذؤابة الشجر" وكيف "ضحكهم يئز كاللهيب في الحطب." هذه الأوصاف لم تشير للشعب المصري فقط بل للبشر حول العالم كذلك. إذن الكاتب يكتب ببراعة عن الحالة الإنسانية.

بقية القصيدة تتحدث عن شخص خيالي اسمه مصطفي. يعطي عبد الصبور هذا الاسم لبطل القصيدة من أجل إيقاع القصيدة لأن "عند باب قريتي يجلس عمي مصطفى وهو يحب المصطفى." علاوة على ذلك، الاسم مصطفى له دلالة دينية. مثل النبي، يقود مصطفى مجموعة من القرويين عندما يناقشون مواضيع مختلفه عن تجربة الحياة. تأثير المناقشة يجعل بكاء الرجال. يصف الشاعر فكرة الموت بمشاعر مثل: "رعب عميق، والفراغ، والسكون." هذه مشاعر تدل على رد فعل كل إنسان عندما يفكر بالموت. إذن، تصل الشخصيات إلى أهم سؤال في تاريخ الفلسفه وهو "ما غاية الحياة؟"

يستخدم عبد الصبور آيات دينية مختلفة في القصيدة. عندما يستخدم رموز الشمس والهلال والجبال، يشير عبد الصبور إلى رموز إسلامية تدل على وجود وعظمة الله. لذلك، القدرية موضوع مهم للبشر. يعطي مصطفى نموذج عن كيف ثروة الإنسان لا تفيدة في الأخرة. يقول مصطفى، "فلان، واعتلى، وشيد القلاع وأربعون غرفة قد ملئت بالذهب اللماع...ومد عزريل عصاه بسر حرفى <<كن>> بسر لفظ <<كان>>." هذه إشارة إلى كيف الأخرة مرحلة مختلفة تماما عن هذة الدنيا. يعبر مصطفى عن رعبه عندما يقول، "يا أيها الإله كم أنت قاس موحش يا أيها الإله!"

تنتهي القصيدة بموت مصطفى. عندما يضع موت البطل في نهاية القصيدة، يعمم الشاعر كيف كل رحلة حياة تنتهي بنفس الصيغة. عندما يموت محبوب في أي مكان، تشعر عائلته "بالإحتقار." الموت يجعل الناس يشكون في رحمة إلههم. يعطي الكاتب مثالا من ذلك عندما يصف مشاعر خليل حفيد مصطفى "حين مد للسماء زنده المفتول ماجت على عينيه نظرة أحتقار." إذن، تظهر لنا القصيدة مشاعر البشر في المراحل المختلفة في حياة الإنسان. أتفق مع معظم وجهات نظر عبد الصبور، ولكن أعتقد أن الإيمان والتسليم للقدر يجعل الإنسان يقبل كل شيء من الله، حتى الموت.

بإخلاص،

مصطفى

Reflecting upon my Systems Engineering experience at UVa

I write this entry as I approach the brink of concluding my academic career at the University of Virginia. This is indeed an opportunity for introspection and reflection with regards to the past four years and the future that awaits me after graduation. I believe this sort of reflection is beneficial so as to recalibrate my current strategy and plan ahead for the future. In retrospect, I must admit that my journey at UVa has been rewarding and self-fulfilling. I recall visiting Princeton University’s campus during my early formative high school years. The idea of living a college town with a historical legacy behind it appealed to me since. I worked ardently during my two years in the International Baccalaureate program make this dream crystallize.

Ironically, during my university application process, UVa had never crossed my mind. I applied to over twenty universities in the United Kingdom, Hong Kong, the United States, and Canada. Not one of my applications had been addressed to the UVa. Oddly enough, I sent my last college application to UVa on its official application deadline. Even stranger was the fact that my first acceptance letter arrived from UVa. When it came to making the final decision, I chose UVa over Hong Kong University at the last minute. What really motivated my decision were the American education system’s flexibility, interdisciplinary nature, and superiority in science and engineering.

Looking back, UVa has equipped me with a strong technical background coupled with linguistic, leadership, and interpersonal skills. My immersion into UVa’ rigorous engineering program taught me to think in a systematic and analytical way and the discipline and work ethic required to succeed in school, work, and life. Specifically, the Systems Engineering curriculum transformed the way I go about solving problems in any and every situation. I have learned to think holistically about any situation and to determine the different political, economic, and cultural forces involved. In every aspect of my life, I have learned to untangle complex situations, work with time and cost efficiency, and evaluate different alternatives to select the ideal scenario. The curriculum’s collaborative environment has allowed me to learn from my colleagues’ skill sets.

I would have to say that the most valuable experience with Systems Engineering hitherto has been my fourth year capstone project. This experience has allowed me to apply Systems Engineering’s concepts and methodologies in a real world setting that truly interests me. I have always been interested in improving the lives of communities in developing countries. The opportunity has allowed me to lead a group of students from diverse backgrounds and work with real stakeholders to address the water sanitation needs of an indigenous community on Guatemala’s Lake Atitlan.

Working on an engineering service project in the developing world has taught me how to provide technical solutions that are culturally sensitive to the host environment. This experience has taught me everything from the design of point-of-use water filters to how to actively engage our clients in a participatory approach. Most importantly, I learned the importance of sustainability of any engineering project to ensure its long-term success.

Where do I intend to take my Systems Engineering background? Ultimately, I aspire to succeed. This is a very vague aspiration, but it is the concept of embarking on any task and accomplishing it with distinction. I pray that my academic background has equipped me with the determination, courage, and discipline to excel in life and serve others.

Another Mystical Night With Z

In my moleskin planner, the 30^th of November stands out from all the other dates in its bright highlighter-fluorescent. I’ve been anxiously anticipating this day. Fortunately, I have had a lot to think about since to get it off my mind. Whenever a milestone appears in my life, my imagination tends to get the best of me, and I begin base my every move on how I am to face what I believe to be a turning point of my life. Tonight is a case in point.

Earlier this month, the University of Virginia’s secret Z Society clandestinely invited me to a recognition dinner. I did not know what to make of invitation. Was it an induction ceremony, would the guardians of UVa’s most revered society finally unveil their society to those invited, what had I done to earn their recognition? These were but a few of the issues running through my mind. I began to consider every single feat I may have possible accomplished in my life. Sure, I give everything I do my best shot, but I am not an overachiever. Could the Z Society read my intentions? Do they really understand my altruistic motives behind every miniscule task I pursue in my life?

Speculations aside, I decided to attend this recognition dinner with a clear mind and sincere heart. After classes today, I hastily biked home through Jefferson Park Avenue’s damp streets. I had less than half an hour to prepare for what my mind kept telling me was a defining moment in my life. Feeling a bit drowsy, I brewed myself some yerbe mate to arouse my senses a bit. I quickly shaved, splashed on some tantalizing after-shave, and oiled my hair with Mediterranean olive oil. The only other occasion when I’d be putting this much meticulous effort in my appearance would be my wedding night! I then put on some slacks, an oxford shirt, and the beige corduroy blazer I hadn’t sported in some time. A second later, I was out the door with Mozart playing on my iPod.

The venue was Michael’s Bistro so I decided to take the route that would take me through the Lawn. As I passed by the fences of the Lawn’s hidden gardens, I reminisced at how rewarding me experience at UVa has been so far. I’m going to miss dear old Uva.

Not surprisingly, when I reached Michael’s Bistro’s entrance, there was a salient sign with the words: Michael’s Bistro will be closed tonight from 6 o’clock to 8 o’clock. This was a sign that tonight was the night. As I walked up the staircase, I could already sense the mystic aura that surrounded this night. When I reached the top, I could see two tables lined parallel to one another with candle light flickering on each of them. I was one of the last guests to arrive and I had to peer over my fellow UVa students’ shoulders to find my assigned seat. At my seat, an envelop with the name “Mr. Allam” in elegant cursive awaited me. After taking my corner seat, I introduced myself and exchanged my greetings with Laura and Rachel, the two who sat by my side; they were truly endearing! We had a lively conversation the whole dinner; more about that later.

Without any signal, we all instinctively ripped open our respective envelopes. As I read the words on the paper before my eyes, I was moved like never before. Never have I been so appreciated and recognized for my efforts in my life. The words were almost divine. It had been as if God had written them. How could someone know exactly what had been behind every one of my intentions all along? Before attending this dinner, I wondered to myself, what could I possibly be recognized for? This letter recognized me for everything I had sweat over during my years at UVa, and there is nothing more rewarding than recognition by the secret guardians of UVa. The words of wisdom that the letter leaves behind for me will inspire me for the rest of my life. As much as I would love to disclose the words of this letter, I shall abstain this time around. Rather these are words worth treasuring in one’s heart…

Laura snapped me out of my dignifying trance by mentioning, “This is a letter worth framing.” I think down the road, this will be a letter that I shall treasure even more than my UVa diploma, since this letter speaks to my personal achievements, which I value more than titles, statuses, or awards.

In this lifetime, I don’t want to do good to be famous. I’d rather be anonymous.

After savoring our letters for a couple of minutes, an English professor sitting among us stood up to make an announcement. He was speaking on behalf of the “mystical” Z Society. The eloquence of his speech was flared the night with even more charm. He mentioned that service come in various shades, but its ultimate impact is one and the same: good in the name of honor and serving one’s fellow human. At this point, it all clicked! All of the words inscribed on UVa’s various buildings finally made sense to me. Every time I had passed the various epigraphs in Jefferson’s Academic Village, I had absorbed his words and implemented them. The virtues I had learned from Mr. Jefferson are honor, integrity, freedom, devotion, i.e. to name but a few. One of the sayings of Jefferson that have stuck with me to understand my purpose at UVa have been:

This institution will be based on the illimitable freedom of the human mind. For here we are not afraid to follow truth wherever it may lead, nor tolerate any error so long as reason is left free to combat it.”

This and many other Jefferson sayings have come to give me purpose in life. After clinching the speech with “…Mystically, Z” the English professor congratulated us earning a seat among him at this spectacular dinner.

I believe this recognition is just a taste of “what goes around comes around.” I believe in the end of time, call it the “hereafter” if you wish, everyone will earn the reward or punishment they deserve. This dinner was just a sample of it. It reminds me of the Quran’s words:

“On that Day will men proceed in companies sorted out, to be shown the Deeds they had done. Then shall anyone who has done an atom’s weight of good, see it! And anyone who has done an atom’s weight of evil, shall see it.”-Sura 99

I love it when I get epiphanies like this and everything in life intertwines together so naturally. For everyone else sitting on the table, we all seemed truly endeared by this moment in our UVa career. Most of us were third or fourth years. I could seem to relate to everyone of them on some level. Laura had a global experience like me. Rachel was a writer, reader, and had gone through the International Baccalaureate program like I did. There was another girl who had lived in the International Residential College like I did. With each one of these comrades, I believe I shared something. If it weren’t our past experiences, then I am certain it will be our future success and goodwill.

I ordered duck glazed dipped in pomegranate sauce over basmati rice and asparagus. It was truly delicious to say the least. Over our meal, we discussed a plethora of issues, but the one worth noting is the one I shared with Laura. She revealed that she is a Religious Studies major, so I decided to test my knowledge of religion on her. I thought I understood Christianity and Judaism before talking to her, but I found out that what I knew was very elementary. My perception was that both religions were mere diversions from Islam, but essentially all three religions belong to the same family. Laura revealed to me that despite the fact that we recognize the same prophets, our approaches to following their messages are very different. After exchanging our sides of the story, I realized that despite their same root, the three monotheistic religions branched out very differently. To my regret, the discussion was cut short. Dinner was over at this point, but I promised Laura to continue this discussion over a cup of coffee.

Overall, this deserves the speculation I previously had for it: a life-changing event. If there is one memory I am to cherish from my experiences from UVa, it is to be this night. And if there are words that will inspire me along the way, it will be those of the Z Society.

Lost In The Wilderness: Ragged Mountain

Charlottesville's weather had been muggy all week. Surprisingly, today was a divine blessing: sunny, colorful, and cheerful. What an ideal day to spend outdoors. Tim, my dutch friend, and I discovered heaven on earth just a couple of minutes driving distance from where we live. This paradise is the Ragged Mountain Natural Area. Tim and I share several interests ranging from literature to sports, but nature is a prominent one.

Tim revealed this magnificent forest to me a couple of weekends ago. Ever since, I've been dying to go back. Every time we go on a hike there, we discuss everything and anything about life, philosophy, world affairs... you name it! As we walk through oak, pine, and maple trees, we are awed by the charm of the autumn milieu. The multitude of colors makes walking through this forest almost a surreal experience.

The forest with its multitude of colored leaves

Our mission on these hikes it to reach the lake. This is where the lake's real enchantment reveals itself. Since we usually come towards sunset, the glistering reflection of the sun on the water lends an almost divine atmosphere to the place. Looking at the lake at this time of the day is as if looking at the most beautiful starry constellation God has to offer.

The sun's reflection off of the lake

There is always such a serenity to this place. This is what I've always been craving to discover in Charlottesville. One's soul feels refreshed by sitting among the trees. The scenery is one the calms the senses.

This time around, Tim and I decided to get some reading done. As we drove along the winding road to the parking lot, we listened to some heavenly Mozart music and looked forward for a pleasant day. We never would have imagined what turn of events were waiting around the corner for us.

We reached the park around 3:30pm. Equipped with our books and camera, we set off along the trail we knew best. We followed this path up and down several hills through the mushy ground filled with dry leaves and residue of this week's rain. Upon reaching the lake, we decided to continue our exploration expedition. Why settle for beauty when you can have more? This was the notion we had behind continuing further into the wilderness. What we didn't take into account was that after sunset, there would be a very slim chance for us to escape the grasp of the wilderness.

Deviating from the trail, we reached a huge dam. The curiosity in us pushed us along. We decided to cross the dam to reach the other side of the lake. Ahead of us lay a huge mountain. By our calculations, we could cross this mountain to circumvent the lake. What we hadn't noticed was that we were racing against time. The clock was ticking, and it would soon be sundown.

A photo of Tim on the dam

A photo of myself on the dam

We reached the summit of this second mountain around 4:30pm. We had reason to worry at this point since the sun would set in half an hour. We decided to turn back. The joy of a pleasant stroll turned into anxiety. Fasting, my body was almost depleted of energy at this time. Luckily, Tim had some chocolate to rejuvenate my body. As we rushed back to climb the second mountain, we realized that we had lost our trail. We began to panic as the sun was showing its last rays. If we lost the sun, we would have no way of getting out of here. The sun was our only hope to finding the right path.

We climbed the summit of the first mountain, which was at 980 feet. We needed the right path to descend. Every time we found a trail, it would lead us to a dead end. The belief that God would guide me back home put me at ease. I have to admit that Tim was panicking a bit. If worst came to worst, we would spend the night here until sunrise next morning. After running around at sunset, Tim and I stopped. Instead we would use our animal instinct to re-trace our footsteps. One clue led to another. Suddenly, I found a smooth surface. This must be the trail, and indeed it was!

Just as the sun was saying its last goodbyes, we used the remaining light to run down the right path. We ended up in the marshes at the foot of the hill. This wasn't quite where we'd parked the car, but at least we were on the right side of the mountain. We made it out alive! What a nightmare we'd been through! I believe my deep conviction that God was overseeing our endeavor to escape had become a reality. We hopped in the car with the rush of adrenaline still in our system. We were saved in the nick of time! This was just another instance that miracles do happen. This is another one of my Charlottesville adventures that I wouldn't let slip away without a blog post.

Ragged Mountain's Enchanting Lake

Recognition by the Z Society

The sign of the Z Society on the steps of the Rotunda

I am aware that I am violating the laws of secrecy by writing and publishing this entry, but there are some secrets too tempting to reveal, and this is one of them… According to a series of “mystical” events, I have been honorably recognized with the highest of honors at the University of Virginia.

In retrospect, I remember my first day at the University of Virginia as some distant memory… I recall standing on the Lawn facing the Rotunda listening attentively to President Casteen’s speech. To say the least, I was awed by the scholarly atmosphere. I was embarking on a journey in which I would have to follow in the footsteps of some great figures that either produced, or were produced by, UVa. Thomas Jefferson, Woodrow Wilson, Edgar Allen Poe, Georgia O’Keeffe are to name a few.

As I was daydreaming in the beauty of the Lawn’s architecture, the president paused and made an announcement that one of UVa’s secret societies, the 7 society, donated $7,777 to the Class of 2010. That’s all he said about the matter.

Ever since then, I’d been truly interested in UVa’s secret societies. Their clandestine identity stimulates my curiosity even more since they mark their presence all over campus. Its almost as if they’re ghosts with eyes and ears all over the university who recognize even the most miniscule acts of courage, goodwill, and service.

When one thinks of secret college societies, one thinks of Yale’s Skulls and Bones. Initially, I had a very negative perception of them since they produced the likes of President Bush. Also, deep down inside, I feel that they play a clandestine role in possessing and exploiting power to serve their interests. At UVa, this doesn’t seem to be the case.

Well… let me get to the story of how my path crossed with those UVa’s premier collegiate secret society, the Z society…

On November 11, 2009, as I was sitting through another one of my senior thesis project meetings, I was routinely checking my email out of boredom. I then stumbled upon an email sent by the Z society. I knew who they were…all of the sudden, I skipped a heart beat. I knew an email from them was meant something…

Upon opening it, it read the following:

Dear Mr. Allam,

Before 11:37 PM tomorrow, please proceed to the Alderman Library Stacks. There, find a book with the call number PQ2605.A3734 A19. Look inside the book.

We look forward to hearing back from you.

Mystically,

Z

I instantly lost all my concentration of what was going on during the meeting. Actually, I completely lost focus throughout the rest of the day. All that was running through my mind were the events that had happened over the past couple of months that could have led to them recognizing me.

Sure, I have been more outspoken and active at UVa. Academically, I do not let a lecture go by without having some input. Also, the diversity of my studies may lead to my recognition as a student who is purely in pursuit of knowledge.

Could it be that they have seen me roaming around the Art Museum, the Rotunda, the Lawn meticulously photographing and appreciating every detail of this university… Can they read my inner thoughts about how I have come to appreciate UVa.

It could very well be my idealist initiative to bridge the gaps between the Middle Eastern and Jewish communities on grounds. I have endeavored to foster a relationship between these two entities repeatedly as a member of the Middle Eastern Leadership Council.

All day long, I kept thinking of what it could have been that led to my recognition by UVA’s most prestigious secret society.

Before going on my mission to see what awaited me in a book in Alderman Library, I did some research on the Z Society.

According to my research, the Z Society was founded in 1892 and its purpose is to exemplify the spirit of the society and uphold the ideals of the university. The Z Society encourages and recognizes excellence through honorary dinners and awards.

What grasped my attention is their slogan that:

"The definition of best student is intentionally left ambiguous because each of us pursues greatness in very different ways; however, the best student is an individual who has pursued academic greatness with fervent ardor and keen insight while never forgetting the importance of those priorities aside from school."

My story with the Z Society goes on. Later that night, I proceeded to Alderman Library in the rain. Upon reaching the library, I went to the front desk where a cute receptionist awaited me. At this point, I felt that the whole university was conspiring in order to lead me to this book in the library. I asked her where I can find the book by showing her the call number. She gave me directions to navigate me through the archives of Alderman Library. Apparently she wasn’t “in” on it. I proceeded to the stacks, and when I reached the right section, the book wasn’t there. I was extremely disappointed.

I was determined to find that book, so I looked all over the place. I skimmed several dozen shelves before giving up. As I was about to quit and leave, I saw a librarian pass by. I nonchalantly asked him if he could lend a hand in my scavenger hunt without disclosing the secrecy of my operations. He then pointed me to a different section. Apparently this section wasn’t where the book was supposed to be placed. He looked for a while there, but couldn’t find it. As I was browsing the area, I found the book. Again, my heart skipped a beat. I didn’t want to let him know that I found it, so I suddenly said “Never mind! I’ll just look for another book. Thank you for your help!” He replied by saying, “Are you sure you don’t want to reserve the book you were looking for?” “Nope! Thanks for your time; bye bye!” I replied as I walked away. I wanted to get him away from the book! After he left the section, I went back and picked out the book.

I was breathless as I opened the book. Inside was a small envelope with the name, Mr. Allam written elegantly on it in cursive. I quickly opened the letter to find the following note inside:

The Z Society

Humbly requests the honor of

your presence at an

informal recognition dinner for students and faculty.

Monday, November 30^th, 2009

6 o’clock to 8 o’clock PM

Michael’s Bistro

Z

3711

I was honored to say the least. I cannot pinpoint the source of my recognition, but I have endeavored to be the best person I can over the past semester and I am glad someone has taken notice, even it that entity is the anonymous and secret Z Society. I will be accepting their invitation where I hope to see other accomplished members of the University.

My morale is high! My endeavors at UVa have paid off. This is another piece of encouragement that I believe God has placed on my path to success. This boost will push me to continue to my journey to achieve greatness.

MBA Discussion Panel: Follow Your Passion!

I just returned from an MBA discussion panel featuring the admissions officers from the top business schools in America. You name it: Harvard, Columbia, Stanford, MIT, UPenn... they were all there. This session was sort of a sneak peek into how the leaders of this world are selected.

There is no doubt that the MBA is the benchmark for grooming those who achieve success, think big, and impact the world in a significant way. I was curious to understand the inner workings of these programs. I was curious to find out the secrets of success. Apparently the success equation is simple: follow your passion!

I will make this entry sweet and short as I don't have much time for writing tonight. So what I will recount will be the words of wisdom from some of the most accomplished people I have met in a very long time. When I meet people of such stature, I believe that it is God that speaks from their mouths to convey his words or reassurance that I am on the right path and that I should continue endeavoring to succeed.

In the process of paving your path for the future, don't lose confidence and don't succumb to anxiety. Live your life as you love it and don't live in the shadow of the expectations of others. The representative from Stanford gave an example. Imagine working the standard 9 to 5 job and not loving it to the fullest and working with someone who does love it to the fullest, who do you think will achieve greater results. Its a given.

Make decisions that make you happy, that make you a better citizen, and not because you believe that it will look good on your resume or CV. If you do follow the resume-seeker role, you'll end up being like every other candidate. Seriously just do what you're passionate about and the pieces of success will fall into their right pieces.

Also, since we are young, take as many risks as you can. If you don't fail, it means that you're not trying hard enough.

At this phase in our life, all we need to do is lay down all the cards of our many aspects of life and do some introspection. Sit down and figure who you are, what you want to achieve, why you want to achieve it. What legacy do you want to leave behind. Know thyself and erase any doubts under faith. Faith in God, in yourself, and in the fact that everything will work out at the end.

Some quotes left behind were:
"Education is the great equalizer of humankind." This is very true since it is intellectual capital that equalizes one's opportunities in the workplace.

Also, Roosevelt once said: "You must do that thing that you think you cannot do!" Hence always strive above and beyond the mere requirements and squeeze your potential to the last drop of sweat!

During the Q&A session, I asked to question:
"How can we ensure that we don't fall into the trap of being a jack of all traits but master of none with an MBA?"
and
"Sure, an MBA allows us to manage people and resources, but how can we go about doing that without a purely technocratic approach."

These two questions really cornered the panelists, and it was interesting seeing how they addressed the answers to the questions directly to me and not to anyone of the hundred or so other people attending the discussion. I was very humbled when the Stanford representative, in a private discussion, told me: "You know, you have a really great aura around you, which attracts people to you." I don't like flattery, but I was truly amazed how my simple comments backed with confidence and courage led everyone to remember my name and take me seriously.

I enjoyed the personal dialogue I exchanged with the other candidates. At first I was hesitant to approach them as I didn't have a clear-cut set of questions, but at the end I realized that they're only human, made of flesh and bone like I am and that I have nothing to fear from them. It was rewarding and fruitful talking to them one on one. If there's anything I learned its to have confidence in one's self and take bold risks.

Also, go out and take initiatives by leading people without seeking to have it on your resume. You don't have to be a leader to lead.

I know that this isn't a structured entry; its merely my stream of consciousness from tonight, but I wanted to record it before it fades away. I hope it will give me confidence in the future and might give my dear reader some motivation in a time of need.

An Extra Hour…

Imagine that every morning you woke up, you were granted a whole extra hour…what would you do with it? Apparently I wasn’t aware that daylight savings was taking place today, so I woke up an extra hour early. Usually, I would look back and regret not having rested in bed an extra hour, especially since it was raining cats and dogs outside. Instead, today I was grateful for that extra hour. Well, I didn’t know about it until I was actually outside. As usual, I had to rush showering, combing, brushing my teeth, praying, preparing my books, and getting dressed. No bike today because of the rain.

My first stop was Alderman Library, so I had to walk through the unpleasant cold rain. It was soggy and I happened to stain my white shoes in mud and the fallen autumn leaves. The gray of the atmosphere really contrasted with the multi-colored orange, red, and yellow leaves of the season. I finally got to Alderman and realized that it was locked. “They must be kidding!” I thought to myself. I had to return an overdue book. Besides, I had four other classmates nagging on me to return it so they could get a chance to read it. I looked at my Swatch and realized that it was 10am; yes so they should be opened.

I then walk over the Clemons Library where some townies are waiting outside. This one was closed too. They then notified me that we had to turn the clock back. I completely forgot about that considering that I’d already done so in Egypt during Ramadan when we had our own day light saving.

Wow…so I have a whole extra hour to myself before having to return my book and go Dar Al Huda Sunday school to give my weekly class. First thing on my mind was breakfast, so I strode to the Corner where I slipped into cozy Bodo’s Bagels. There, smooth jazz music filled the air. Surprisingly, the students were a minority at this hour. It was the old townies that filled the place. I got my usual for breakfast: whole-wheat bagel, eggs, feta cheese, lettuce, and tomatoes; cinnamon raise with walnut and raisin cream cheese; and orange juice.

I devoured the meal in no time. I then started day dreaming for a bit by looking at the painting on the walls of Bodo’s and wondered what the story behind the character in each painting was. It was really surreal because it almost felt as if they were in the room with us. At least they seemed more interesting than the customers here. They were probably more interesting than me just because they’d had an enigmatic expression that was frozen forever.

I then wondered, “How I should spend the last half hour of my extra hour?” The answer was obvious: I’ll write about my extra hour. Of course, I’ll write! That’s all I find myself wanting to do nowadays. I want to write about anything and everything, so why not write about “an hour.” Writing has become an obsession. Whenever I’m studying, I find myself jotting notes irrelevant to what I’m studying. These notes include all the topics I’d want to write about. Some notes are even very ambitions, such as potential ideas for writing a book or a research thesis for a PhD. I’m just wish that I could drop everything I’m doing whenever I get a great idea and let it take over me, so I could just write about it. All I want to do is write, write, and write!

Anyways, I’ll have to start going. I’ve got to return that book and get going to Sunday school I’ll have to tell you all about that in some other entry….

The Farmer’s Market

This time I’m reporting from another new discovery here in Charlottesville, the Farmer’s Market. I had some early bird friends always urge me to tag along, but I was always reluctant to wake up at 8am on a Saturday morning. Well, I did it this time around.

What really got me out of bed this time around was the notion that I would have spent four years here at UVa without visiting the Farmer’s Market. There are many Charlottesvillian traditions that I have missed out on, but I wouldn’t let this one go by without me paying it due attention. Besides, rumor had it that this would be the last Farmer’s Market of the year.

To get me out of bed, I connected my iPod to some lounge music to get me in the mood for a new day. Finally, I threw the cover to the side and jumped out of bed: enough laziness! I searched through the pile of clothes for a shirt and decent pair or jeans that weren’t to crumple up. I really need to do my laundry sometime soon. Check my three pockets: keys, phone, wallet, check…I’m ready to head out. Oh, wait, I almost forgot my camera and laptop! How else would I document this historic moment?! So I swung my messenger bag on my shoulder and rushed out.

I then hopped on my road bike and hit the road. The ride down here was a bit windy. I almost imagined myself in the Windy City of Chicago. Well, I managed to make it promptly. I’d always heard about the Market’s renowned bagles, so I guess my hunger was what really drove me on.

Upon arriving, I locked the bike to a “No Parking” sign pole, got my camera ready and ventured into the Farmer’s Market. Essentially, the Market the a gathering of local Virginian farmers who come to market their locally grown, organic produce…be it vegetables, jams, flowers, cookies, clothes, you name it… The theme is natural, green, and organic. Definitely sounds like a good deal to me!

Upon entering, I found some of beautiful white and purple flowers for $3.00. I would have bought them in no time, but on second thought there would have been no way biking back with them. Ahh… I can’t wait till I grow and cultivate my own garden!

I also really liked the scene of people here. There was a farmer’s culture. People were dressed in muddy slacks and shirts, grown beards, and funky vintage glasses. I don’t know if these locals meant it, but damn they had style. But you could also tell that they have this spiritual connection because of working the land for so long. They just look so content with life.

What the market really reminded me of was the Manhattan Flea Market that Mom would always take me to. I especially remember the lemonade and corn we’d eat there. Also, I remember following mom from stand to stand as she hunted for European antiques. I miss those days. So I was glad that I was keeping the tradition alive by visiting Charlottesville’s own flea market. Overall, the content of the merchandise was no different than that of the New York market: jewelry, clothes, art pieces, etc… but everything here was hand/home made. I liked that it really had a genuine feel to it.

What really pleased me was that everyone here was so blissful, everyone from the urban out-of-towners to the Amish families strolling around. At the end of it all, I snapped a couple shots, which I show below:

The Balloon Man making a child a "spider sword"

Some musician

The white & purple Flowers

My highly anticipated bagels

A dog dressed up as lobster for Halloween

Pavilion VIII: The Prayer Room

I have recently discovered this jewel on the Lawn. There's not much too it. Three simple candle holder-shaped lamps, a creaky wooden floor, a beige colonial style fireplace mantle that contrasts sharply with the burgundy lining at the bottom of the walls. At first glance, its very difficult to attribute any functionality to this room. Its very minimalist with absolutely no decor, no indicator of a purpose.

Yet, there is so much spirit and serenity just by being here. The first time I passed by this room, I found a 1st year sitting in one of its corners reading a novel. I wasn't quite sure if I'd come to the right place at first, but after inquiring, she answered, "Yes, this is the Prayer room. I just come here in between classes because its quite."

The rustling shadows of the trees outside were slowly caressing the whole room. There was something so peaceful about being here that made me come back more and more. Between classes, I would look forward to escaping into this new world, where I could simply sit and meditate. I try to make the trip at least twice here. Its 9:28 and I feel like I've accomplished a feat getting through my daily prayers, so I decided to dedicate an entry to this room. This room that brings me so much comfort despite its simplicity.

I once wrote an entry titled Where Does God Live? and this room reminded me of it. In this case, I believe that God's presence is everywhere. Yes, even in a 19th Century colonial room at the University of Virginia. I think they keep the room undecorated because of UVa's secular tradition, but I actually like it that way. It expresses the true essence of Islam, i.e. its not by superficial appearances and rituals that one sincerely believes in God, but rather in the subliminal and profound intentions behind his thoughts and actions.

I have come to admire this room. At first, it deceived me for being another Lawn room, but now I understand that it is so much more. Never be judgmental. As a matter of fact, I would like to keep this room unadorned and minimalist. With no visual indicators, it enlightens one about religion and how it should really work...

I look forward to coming back to this room more often. Hopefully, merely sitting and meditating here can teach me more secrets of life.