What would happen to the Jordanian community if all foreign aid just stopped? Ran out. Vanished.
My scenario anticipates something like this:
Jordanians awaken to the reality that they are broke.
They realize they are one, Jordanian, Palestinian, Ribdawi, 3agbawy, Circassian, all the same, all Jordanian. They realize that because they realize they have nobody but eachother. Theory of brotherhood. Theory of I am 3arabi. انا و أخوي على ابن عمي وأنا وابن عمي على الغريب ولما أكون لحالي لازم أصير مع حدا. Theory of the other.
Then, they begin to build castles in the sun. They help each other become better people. They water Shouneh and Ajloun's plants, feed the hungry in Jabal Al Nuzha and Al Manshiyeh. They revive Development zones with their own labor force and export products to the MENA region.
They realize the value in their counterparts and can see all the colors of the rainbow that reaches the DeadSea. The horizon is so vast. The weather is clear. With no fuzz.
I also see a lot more reassuring smiles. I see You before Me.
أردن أحلى

March 11, 2009.
I shoulda figured, I wouldn't be consistent... tsk tsk tsk.
Pause, Refresh.

AAAAaaahhhh! It's raining! It's so pretty, and cold, yet gives me the warmest feelings ever, which also come in the form of goosebumps. No I am not a FOB (fresh-off the-boat) , I'm just excited, my first conscious winter in Amman, that reminds me of Vancouver and its constant rain. It really is beautiful looking outside the window, I just need a cup of dark hot chocolate to reach utter bliss....

Like twenty one impossibles....

I went to watch Annemarie Jacir's short films yesterday, and they gave me the most bizarre mix of feelings. I was a little bit uncomfortable, a lot interested and very disturbed. I hate how sometimes I need to be slapped in the face by things I hear and view to bring me back to reality. I spend half my time in one of the levels of the sky where I can sit with my thoughts and a blank stare for those looking at me, and spend the rest of my time entranced with things taking place around me. And oh, a third of this time I spend laughing.
But back to the subject, I really hate that everyday things we busy ourselves with can make us forget what really is taking place around us, and that our problems are trivial next to others'. Is being blinded to others' needs and complications part of the greater picture? Part of the test? Part of the puzzle?
That is why I try not to blame others for not caring, the human mind is only capable of remembering a certain amount of things, and if you have a $20,000 debt and three hungry children, then it is underrstandable why you may not care about Darfur, or Palestinians. But can we really use that as an excuse? Aren't we supposed to raise our kids to care about others, yet we bypass beggars and the hungry without taking a second look.
Hastings street in Vancouver with the junkies and traffic lights and the balad with young beggars in Amman. I think we have an on-off button for our conscience ... I could go on forever, but I can't, cause I need to get back to work.

Once again, the point of this post was the Annemarie Jacir films, so back to that, quickly. I may not understand the artistic shots and editing, but I do like the feelings they give me, and the way it makes me really try to figure out what's taking place on the screen in front of me, to the point that I am no longer watching the movie and instead I'm frantically working every functioning brain cell in trying to understand what these shots are about. When I realize that I had missed half the movie is when I begin to bug the person next to me with questions like "What's happening, now?" and "Why did this happen?" and "What did he just say?"...

Anyways, I really liked this poem by Tawfiq Zayyad that stuck with me titled "Here we will stay". Part of it was displayed in the end of Annemarie Jacir's "Like 21 impossibles"

'Here we shall stay:In Lydda, in Ramlah, in the Galilee,
We shall remain
Like a wall upon your chest,
And in your throatLike a shard of glass,
A cactus thorn,
And in your eyes,
A sandstorm.
We shall remain
A wall upon your chest,
Cleaning dishes in your restaurants,
Serving drinks in your bars,
Sweeping the floors of your kitchens
In order to snatch a bite for our children
From your blue fangs.
Here we shall stay: Singing our songs,
Taking to the angry streets,
Filling prisons with dignity.
In Lydda, in Ramlah, in the Galilee,
We shall remain,
Guarding the shade of the fig and the olive,
Fermenting rebellion in our children
As is yeast in the dough.'

Finally!- er, or Initially...

Four months.
It has been four months since I left Vancouver, B.C. and stepped into Amman, Jordan... And almost four months since I have been aching to start a blog. Everyday I nag to myself, begging me to get off my lazy bum and start that blog!
So here I am, four months after learning to regain confidence, four months after starting a new beginning, and four months after trying to plan my future. Needless to say, I have not changed much; I just have learned to cope with my world, a step at a time, knowing that in reality, I am still in kindergarden when it comes to the school of life.
That is why, I have decided to stick to the Prophet's (PBUH) quote " Live your life like a traveller" and Khalil Gibran's quote "I want to be alive to all the life that is in me now, to know each moment, to the uttermost" and just be...
I will rant, and rant, and rant, but I will also tell tales as much as I can, I actually do not know what will come my way, but whatever it may be, I look forward to sharing it on this blog. So be prepared to hear things that you may like and dislike...

So with a leg in Jordan , another in Vancouver, a brain formed in the Emirates, and a heart lingering in Palestine, I am glad that I have finally found a place to illustrate my feelings, openly.

Cheers...