My relationship to Lebanon is the relationship of a son to a war torn mother who has, under the heavy struggles of war, forgotten that her son even exists, but when he shows up, she hugs him unaware, with empty attention, while gazing to the fires and bombs in the horizon. I was born aContinue reading “Memoir Part 10: Lebanese Summer Vacations”
Abu Mohamad was the Natoor (guard) of the bank over which we lived and where my father worked as a bank manager. He stayed there for the afternoon and all night guarding the bank. In a village like Khorfakhan, that is pretty much the most boring job. I had lived in Khorfakhan for 6 years,Continue reading “Memoir Part 8 – Abu Mohamad – Sheik Kishk – Summer Vacations”
Between the mountains and the sea, the breeze goes back and forth, alternating in the direction between night and day, elevating some of the torture of the hot perpendicular rays of the sun in the daytime, and the other torture of the high humidity at night. We played on the Kournish Thursday nights till weContinue reading “Memoir Part 7: Bomb on the Beach”
Islam Yakout Mohamed Mursi One of the names that I will never forget. My brother from a different mother. A dark-skinned Alexandrian boy from Egypt with an amazing sense of humor, as it is common among Egyptians. Islam had no siblings, and I was his best friend. His family treated him like I am his brother. Continue reading “Memoir Part 6: Islam, hanan, and Death of Ayman”
He is an Iranian musician from Italy, living and working in London. He was playing all kind of music from around the world during our dinner me and Walid at the Rose Garden restaurant, located in the London Elizabeth Hotel, right across from the Italian Fountains entrance of Hyde park. The food was delicious, andContinue reading “London Trip Day 7: Persian Dinner – Edgware – Ahmad Alkatib – Tower of London – Final Night”
We learnt Islam in schools from Kindergarten. We memorized the short Surahs (chapters of Quran) and recited them like Christmas carols. We heard short stories of the prophets and day dreamed about them. And we studied the Seerah (personal history) of the Prophet at a very young age and it was our bed times storiesContinue reading “Memoir Part 3: Idols, Khor Fakkan, and Fujairah”
ith a look of despair, Jesus looked down at me from his big wooden cross that was mounted on the wall next to the principal’s office at the Rosary School in Abu Dhabi.
Electra …. My parents were living on a street called Electra when I was born in Abu Dhabi in the winter of 1976. Well, there is no such thing as winter if you are living the United Arab Emirates, but for the UAE residents, if you are not getting a heat stroke, then it isContinue reading “Memoir part 1: Electra, Blondes, and Snapchat”