A Few Jotted Thoughts

I received fuzzy blue socks for Christmas. And I have to confess, I put them on twice one night, just so I could feel the unbelievable softness and warmth that comes from pulling them on! Seriously, I smile delightedly and feel pampered when I put them on.

Christmas passed peacefully, and joyfully. And while there's nothing in the immediate horizon that I know of, I have a sense of expectation for good things to come. So the ordinary everyday things that have filled my time: I bought a gracile plant for my office today, I'm acquiring my Finnish drivers' license (no test--woo hoo!), and heading to a four-year-old's birthday party tonight.

The sunrise this morning occurred at 9:25, and the sun will set at 15:20--six hours of daylight muted by a gray sky. But the good news is that the winter solstice is behind us and the days will slowly lengthen to become the nightless day by Midsummer! This all requires some getting used to, as I may remind you that I grew up on the warm Equator where seasons are nonexistent and the length of a day varies by half an hour at the most. As I purchased my plant today, I missed the tropical vistas of South America, and considered starting my very own mini-jungle in the corner of my office under a waterfall poster...

To Work and Yo Ho Ho...

"Chak, chak, chak," the echoes of loud heels on the sidewalk surround me, too muffled to be described as "clip, clip, clip." Red cheeks and noses, hats pulled low, and long scarves over dark coats pass by me as they too head to their offices, receptionist desks, cafés or cash registers. It is the rush of morning workers, spilling out of the crowded and warm trains, where they have caught their last few winks, read the morning news, or mentally checked off a list of to do's realizing that the coffee maker may have been left on at home and that the kids' gym clothes didn't make it into their backpacks; now emerging from the high-ceilinged train station into the -9 degree city air. The sky this morning glows cloudlessly, mysteriously lighting the city with a cold blue hue, warmed only by the millions of small yellow lights signaling the joyous holidays that are approaching at the end of the week. The other prominent color is charcoal gray, as the sentineling trees of the big streets and the park stretch their bare silhouettes into the city panorama, by no means unused to the routines of city life or the winter wind, having spent perhaps centuries supervising the comings and goings beneath them. I hear "rumble, rumble, rumble," as the old trams go by on their rails, and a steady "meep, meep, meep," as the light changes to red, and the little running green man tells me I may walk across the cobblestones. "Pling!" the elevator greets me on the ground floor of my building, and "pling!" it wishes me a good workday as I exit into the echoing entryway of the sixth.

Christmas sights and sounds!

There is no snow on the ground, and everything is dark and wet. This lends itself to depressing gloom, except that Christmas is around the corner! Downtown is strung with lights and a Christmas Market is gracing the park this week with bright red stands and hot glögi (spiced punch) and gingerbread houses.

I've been comparing the Christmas preparations here to those in the US, and find a few differences. I hear less music, and homes are never ostentatiously decorated with lights and yards are not full of figurines and blow-up Santa Clauses. In most windows you can see the warm glow of candles as you walk by. Christmas trees are set up close to Christmas, not at the end of November as in the States, and remain until January. So the only ones I've seen thus far are in the shopping centers, which look festive with bright displays and decorations. I haven't found one radio station that plays continuous Christmas music, and I finally tuned in on internet radio, because I like the familiar English songs, such as White Christmas, or this year, I'll Be Home for Christmas (...if only in my dreams).

This morning though, as I made my way to work through the metro station, I heard the halls echoing with strains of instrumental Christmas music, and had to smile as I passed a group of four musicians with their stringed instruments, thus discovering the source of my morning soundtrack. Anytime I walk in a crowded place with street musicians, I feel like I'm in a movie with all the other people around me, and for that moment, we are all part of the same inextricably linked story.

FYI

A list of 5 things few people know about me:

- I dance in dressing rooms when there's music, just to make sure new clothes fit right :)

- I make up stories in my head about people I see in the street or at airports.

- I carry my toothbrush in my bag at all times, just in case I don't go home for the night. As it turns out, about once a week, I sleep at friends' houses!

- I've had my nose pierced twice, and both times had to remove it (unfortunately, cuz I really liked it!)

- I like to make lists so I can cross things off. Heh, I'll even add things that I did apart from the list, just so I can see it checked off!

A Rough Draft of Thoughts

"One word frees us of all the weight and pain in life. That word is love." -Sophocles

What Sophocles was thinking when he said this, I don't know. But this phrase often comes to my mind at odd moments when love opens the otherwise closed and fearful caves of my life by unexpected words of love and actions of love.

But, the concept of Word...I have wandered down this road of thought often enough also, when I read the Bible and find the "Word became flesh," "In the Beginning was the Word," God's word "dwelling" in people, and hearing the words of Jesus. If that Word that existed before all the worlds and universes were created, that intelligence and wisdom by which all that exists came to be, became flesh, then what is "word" here on earth today? Is it not those who seek to imitate and know this original word? Jesus' words bring life and hope, and if his being was the embodiment of the Word that contains all treasures of knowledge and wisdom of That Which is Beyond (John 1), that says something about the essential character of where and whom he came from--because what he showed on earth was love. And when that kind of love is still found in actions, in speech, in motive today, then it frees us of weight and pain.

And we're back to love. And not the commercialized and trivialized, self-seeking love. But something so different that it does not skip any person, and ignores not even the lowliest or most broken being. It is a love that puts back together pieces that were in wrong places, and brings peace to the confused. It is love that breaks barriers of race, of language, and even time. It is love that finds its beginning in the character of the Word that created all. And it must still be around today. It has to be. Because in the midst of the ugliness, and the pain and the weight I carry around, it arrives gently, and gives me hope.

Anyway, I am well aware that my words here are inadequate, and my thoughts even more so, for I have not before attempted to write down any of these thoughts that ponder connections of metaphysical realities and faith. Take it for what it is. It's really a thanks and a smile, because the word of love is freeing, and as I see it, it's to be found in Jesus and people who want to be like him.

Remembering the 6th

I'm living another first! It is the first Dec. 6th that I can remember being in Finland! I have celebrated the independence days of other countries many times, and this is the first time I am celebrating the independence of my birth country while I'm present in it! We've had a nice meal, and watched some very traditional and patriotic programs on TV, and will soon be watching the President's Ball, where all the big name people go celebrate and the ordinary folks stay at home and critique the pretty clothes, heh (sounds a bit like the Oscars). My boss will be there this evening!

Finland is a very young country when compared to many in Europe, born in 1917. When studying our history, you find that most of it is the history of 800 years of Swedish rule and then 100 years or so of Russian rule. This past weekend we visited an island fortress called Suomenlinna, and discovered that it had been constructed to defend the Swedish empire from Russia and actually had little use as a fortress. But after the Russians took over, this fort was the reason that the capital moved from Turku near the Swedish border, to Helsinki where today it remains. Finland enjoys being a peaceful country, and today the island is a walkable historical site and a popular wedding setting! (Which at this time of year was freezing!)

Today has mostly been for rest, as I find myself quite spent. I had a lovely weekend with my highschool friends and enjoyed introducing them to Finnish life. We had plenty of long conversations about politics and theology and our experiences, and in general, about where our classmates have ended up around the world. I would never have guessed that the next time I saw these friends from Ecuador together we would be in wintery Finland! And the next time...who knows?!!

But now, as I hear our national anthem in the background, I wish "Happy Independence Day Finland!"

Variety

The snow has been dancing outside my window all morning, and there has been plenty going on today at the office! I like the busyness though! And as I look at the calendar, the end of the year is filling up with small activities and meetings (like parties and international get togethers!) I'm especially looking forward to this coming weekend, as Jon and Barney will be visiting me! They are friends from my highschool in Ecuador, whom I haven't seen for four years! (well, I did see Barney for just one day this summer in Oxford). It's always a joy to have friends around, and I'll enjoy sharing my new city with them.

Also under the topic of variety, I've decided that pictures will from now on be posted on a link that you can find in the sidebar, called "Galeria de Fotos." A picture is worth a thousand words, they say--heh, maybe I can stop writing then? Not a chance! But I think that it's better they have their own space and don't crowd into my journal entries! Maybe I can link them in the text!

And, for more variety this week, I'm staying the night at my cousins' (Oskar and Hanna) tonight, so perhaps Hanna will practice some of her new hairdressing skills on my head! I'm not feeling too impulsive, so don't worry, my hair won't go blue! But you never know... ;)

Snapshots on a Sunday

1.Here, a winter view of my neighborhood on Sunday morning as I left the house. I'm so glad that I didn't sleep in and miss the white wonderland and pearly sky! I was determined that this Sunday, I would finally make it to the German church I had found in Helsinki.
2.I made it downtown with some extra time, so I wandered around and enjoyed the peaceful streets. Here, the Tuomiokirkko presiding over the central plaza looks magnificent in the morning sun!

3.When the church pews are just too uncomfortable, there's always the floor! I tried to sneakily take this picture during the service! I didn't understand everything I heard, but I did try to converse with the people I met at coffee afterwards!

Lovely Cousins!

Do you know those moments in life, when you want to explode because you are so happy? That you are thankful that you are where you are, and you aren't wishing to be anywhere else? Yes, that was on Saturday for me, as I tramped through a meager covering of snow with my four cousins. Katri (6) and Sanni (5) are my youngest cousins, here in the tree with me. We passed by the local school, which made Katri ask, "Where do you go to school?" "I don't anymore," I said, "I go to work." "Oh, you're THAT old." Heh. Yep, I'm that old.

An Epic of the Unexpected

My recommendation for a movie about life and love and history and nature--Legends of the Fall. This 1994 movie is not even particularly happy, but it's still amazing! The Montana mountains and scenery offer an exquisite setting for the story of a father and his three sons. The soundtrack, cinematography, and narrator are perfectly coordinated and, what's the word I'm looking for...raw, real, captivating? If you see the movie for the first time, you will not be able to completely predict what happens, and I like that.

Along the way, you will see: war, death, rage, the effects of plaguing guilt, loneliness, bitterness, age, love, family ties and their strength, travel, Native American traditions, loyalty, humor, the impact of history and government, justice, suicide, acceptance, adventure. It's everything a movie should be, and everything life contains! My rating: Highly Recommended

Kaunis Helsinki = Beautiful Helsinki

One of my friends asked me a while ago what I liked about Helsinki. Today as I explored, I remembered once again some of the reasons: for a capital city, its nucleus is very small and walkable, the architecture is beautiful and historical, it's clean, and it's on the water, etc. Here are some of the things I saw today, as I took advantage of the little bit of light in the afternoon, thankful that today we actually had a sunny day!

Usually, pictures don't do justice to nature, and this is the case here. The moon was amazing, and so large it looked like it was trying to squeeze into the earth's atmosphere, perhaps to enjoy the walk with me.

This is a view from the northern shore road.

The Orthodox Church is made from beautiful red brick, and this summer received newly shined copper steeple toppers, note the onion on top! I added the sepia tones as I played around with the editing program, heh!

And thus ends my daily route, as the sun sets, the wind picks up, and my German homework beckons me! Until next time! (Would that be...bis das nächste Mal..?)

Home Life

Sunday was Father's Day here in Finland.

My cousin, Sarai, cooked an amazing

lunch for her dad, and we

all hung around the house all day.

There's something to be said

for these wonderful lazy days

when you can just sit at home

with family, sleep late, and stare

at the fire in the fireplace,

mesmerized by its dancing

and lulled by it's warmth. So at left,

Sarai with her music and

microphone as she cooks chicken,

and below, my uncle

Sami and cousin Jojo.

Appreciation

The moments I'm thankful for:

-staying home yesterday because I was sick, and getting to sleep all day. I probably should have done the same today.

-receiving a hug in the mail. A real, life-size hug on paper from one of my best and oldest friends! I feel loved, I've never received such a big card! She drew herself and wrote down memories that we shared together! There are few friends like her in this world, and she is amazing!

-reading letters from my sister, and friends around the world sharing good news in their lives!

-realizing that today is Friday, and I have a whole weekend to recuperate and rest!

Summer Scenery

I have recently purchased a digital camera that I'm the process of learning to use, but this has nothing to do with this picture, as it was taken this summer, heh! My sister and I went to Tallinn, Estonia with the relatives! I hope to be putting up more visuals as I figure out my camera, mostly so you, my dear family and friends, can see the colors of life at these latitudes!

A Blue Painting

A Tuesday looms in front of me, kind of like a long hallway that you walk through, just because you have to in order to get to where you're going. This view actually makes me feel a bit tired, and a bit sad as I look at the beige walls and flourescent lighting that remind me of a hospital in Ecuador. The optimist in me keeps hoping though, that there will at least be some amazing pictures hung on the walls of this Tuesday walkway.

Oh wait, I just passed one! I almost missed it! Yes it's a small, blue-shaded picture, a little misty, and reveals my upturned face welcoming the morning sprinkle on my eyelids and hair as I walk by the blackened silhouettes of leafless trees of the central park. The sidewalk glistens with shallow puddles and people in dark coats scuttle past with their black umbrellas. As one lady passes, earphones tucked under her scarf and hat, she smiles to herself, and I wonder what songs her morning soundtrack includes. This misty blue picture is delightfully accented by yellow dots from the bright lights festooning a section of the park trees, merry like circus lights creating a welcoming ambience for the gathered audience.

Hmm, I smile as I turn from the picture and continue down the beige Tuesday, I think I see another picture coming!

George, in First Grade

"Once upon a time," the story begins and the children lean forward occasionally to get a better glimpse of the pictures the teacher shares with them. Cross-legged on the floor, they close their eyes, or doodle with their pencils on the green carpet as the plot unfolds and the characters come to life through Ms. Teacher's voice. A few lucky students made it to the dilapidated sofa before the rest, and now they sit comfortably, happy to get away from addition and subraction lessons and into the make believe world of "George the Stegasaurus."

There were other titles of course, such as From the Mixed-up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, Mrs. Frisbee and the Rats of NIMH, 101 Dalmations, The Secret of the Mummy Cave, and The Tower of Geburah--books that all came alive during the reading hour we had at school. Suddenly I was with the siblings who ran away from home, staying in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, collecting change from the wishing fountain for food and helping discover the identity of a sculptor. I can still remember the funny faces I used to draw in the fourth grade as I sat at my little metal desk in the tropical afternoons in our classroom, while I imagined two boys discovering a mummy somewhere in Arizona. This love of stories and books carried on even when the story hour was dropped. Instead, we read out loud in our literature class, more titles such as Johnny Tremain, The Witch of Blackbird Pond, Across Five Aprils, and The Red Badge of Courage. We even got to write our own endings for Johnny Tremain! I am smiling as I write this, because while I'm remembering all these books, it's as if I'm remembering old friends!

I still love to read, and I'd like to write some more! I've been pondering ideas for stories and books and such, but so far none have materialized beyond the brainstorming phase. If you happen to have any stellar recommendations of titles or ideas for a story, send them this way! Or, if you have recommendations of books to read, by all means, write a comment!

Shon der erst November

"Well, hello," said I to the new morning
which barely glanced at me with her sunny grin,
"Well, goodbye then," said I to the dusky sky,
that remembered me later with twinkling stars.

Un Llanto para Latinoamérica

Amazing the way politics can rile up people. Around my office desk this morning flew loud comments, waving hands, political ideologies, biased opinions, and plenty of energy as my coworkers discussed the "Chavez Phenomenon" in Venezuela. I myself was educated a bit more on the issues last night as I watched a documentary on what's been happening in this Caribbean-Latin country. Corruption, coups, fraud, greed, power, money, poor, oligarchs, reformers, revolution, anti-globalization--it's a spicy political soup that is very frequently served up in South America. There's always talk of something better, a soup that's tasty and fair, that puts the people's interests foremost. But what can you do when the only ingredients to be found in the land don't lend themselves to an honest concoction?

You reap what you sow, and you reap more than you sow. This is a basic process of nature, accepted and well-known by farmers, and equally applicable to the rest of life. The choices and decisions, the actions of today, will have consequences in the future. One of my pastors once said that, "No moment is isolated in itself." Thus, the consequences are more far-reaching than perhaps the action originally intended. In the case of Latin America, past decades and centuries of sowing bad decisions, corruption and greed can't be erased in a matter of a few years, no matter how sincere a reformer is. I think about Ecuador as an example, with coups occuring roughly every 2 years when the populace becomes disillusioned with the current leader for not following through on reforms. In two years you cannot undo the round of sowing of oppression that began as far back as the conquistadores and has not been righted since. It has been tried, but Latin America is still reaping bitterly.

Do I sound pessimistic? Wacko? I hope rather to be realistic. I'm not a proponent of one political system over another, I am a proponent of rewarding good, punishing evil, and protecting citizens. And there are many facets to discuss and weigh in this topic. Bottom line: in my opinion, you cannot expect a successful system to be set up on the enslavement and killing of another people for avarice. It may be history of centuries gone by, but it's still haunting the continent today.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!

Yes, this is the sad yelp of one who looked out the front door this morning to see snow everywhere. Now, let's dissect this theme for a moment.

Snow is beautiful. It covers the brown world with a soft white blanket, and coats tree branches with frosting. It can be brilliant and crisp on a morning with sunshine, but that was not this morning.

Snow is cold. It melts and becomes mud, it gets in the little cracks between your scarf and skin and did I mention, it's cold? (I shall not even bother to embarrass myself by telling you how many layers I had on this morning!)

I sat on the train (after tramping for 20 minutes through snow....melting snow), determined to find some bright spot in the grey day, some warming comfort in spite of the cold. My coworkers, also of Latin American blood, decided that the bright spot had to be the moment when it's actually snowing. "It's silent, unlike when it rains in South America," they said, and at that moment it is beautiful and peaceful. "But just that moment," my boss added with a laugh.

Upon some more consideration, I concluded that it is not actually the snow that bothers me, as it is beautiful. It is the dark and the cold, yes this is what seeks to drag my mood to the murky ditch, or at least makes me wish that I could sit at home with a cup of coffee and just stare outside instead of venture out. Anyway, enough dissecting. I'm sure that as the winter progresses, it will be just one more thing I get used to, and even learn to enjoy! (See drawings below for fun winter possibilities!!)

On Knowing

A man speaking about his wife: We're like two packages on a train, side by side, headed to some destination. But do you really ever know what's on the inside?

I was watching a movie and this thought struck me, as the couple had suddenly realized that their lives had been façades, each playing the part society expected of them. Then suddenly placed in a situation unfamiliar to both of them, away from family and support, they are stripped of what defined them in their previous life. And they have little in common anymore, except a daughter. He loved her, but she only loved the image they portrayed to others, she loved his success. I haven't finished the movie yet, so I don't know how things end...but it made me start wondering about knowing people, and can you really know them, and do you really try, and do you really want to, or are preconceived ideas and expectations the lenses we see through so we aren't able to see and embrace another person as they in fact, are?

Mid-week thoughts

I find myself usually posting in a very relaxed manner on my live journal, and somehow feel that this site is a bit more formal, but it's not meant to be that way. Perhaps it's easier to talk about surface things (like magical frost on the ground as dawn approaches on a winter morning) than deeper things that require observation of the interior instead of the exterior world.

Aaah, but to share with you the exterior world I see, is to share with you what ignites smiles and winding successions of thoughts in my head. A taste of this morning's trajectory: I consider the fact that others around the globe experience the same sunlight that I do, but more directly, in different latitudes, and with more warmth...so why do Finns stay in this dark place?!....there's something in humans that just keeps on going even in the darkest times and places, determination, will to live...well, the landscape is melancholy, beautiful in the way that it speaks to some deeper strain of aesthetic consciousness and awe of God himself...nature, yes, that's where my soul wants to explode in worship of God, but in silence, because I haven't found words adequate enough for the wonder I feel and the reverence I have for the Creator....
(skip to meandering stroll through Helsinki streets after train ride)...I wonder who walked here 100 years ago, a girl my age maybe? Hope she wasn't wearing high heels on these cobblestones, that would just be ridiculous!...hmmm, this is a street museum made to replicate the city streets of the 1800's, fascinating...gutters, water pumps for those who didn't have it piped into their house yet...hmm, Finnish streetnames weren't given until the 1860s, interesting...I always forget that there are significant periods that Finland lived under other rulers: Russia and Sweden...we're a pretty young country...hmmm, the harbour looks nice in the morning...
(I head for the office and see my reflection in a store window, and some men in suits walk by)..heh, well, no one passing by me on the street would ever think by looking at me that I'm headed to work in an embassy!!!...I'm just not the suit kind of girl...(arrive at office and talk to the cook of the ambassador's residency and the office cleaner, both from the Philippines) fascinating people, you would never know that she spent six years in Kuwait...so how did they end up in the Philippines afterwards, and so her mother was Kuwaiti...hmmm...(and the work day begins as I turn on my computer).

The Year has Eyes

Eyes of blue--spring flowers unaware
that elephants don’t care, naive
and soon a new blue, more like
black and blue, and blind.

Eyes of tears, inconsistent like
summer thunderstorms, consistent
like the kitchen faucet, with
loud. lonely. drops.

Eyes of sleep, hide the movie
replaying underneath, paused
in rest and peace, soft as
feathers against wind-chilled cheeks.

Eyes of pearls, found in a winter field,
should be dead, but grows a
few small flowers instead; beacons
of inviting hope in the frosty wind.

I miss Sundays

Sundays in Ecuador meant a relaxed day, one spent at church, eating out, and resting. Somehow in my memory, these days are always sunny and calm, although I remember plenty of times I didn't want to go to church, or it was raining. We used to always eat at the same restaurant (El Meson Europeo) every Sunday, along with a handful of other missionaries in the area. And every Sunday, we had the same meal, which somehow never lost its appetizing flavor. Sunday afternoons were spent lazing around, or perhaps biking to the river for a lazy nap on a huge rock, or for exploring rocks and currents. Then we moved to the capital from the jungle, and the routine continued, somewhat adjusted to new surroundings. Sundays in California often also had this same slowness, and lack of an agenda. I only mention this, because somehow it doesn't feel the same here. I go to church on Saturday nights, and no one at this house attends church on Sundays. On this Sunday, there's a brisk wind outside in the gray day, and it is cold, cold, cold. Perhaps it is only the slowness that still remains, as the weekday routine is far away. Or maybe I haven't been here long enough yet. Mmmm, stretch like a contented cat, happy not to be cold, cold, cold outside.

Sunset on the Nile

Yesterday Afternoon

...I have found it! I have discovered the reason thousands of Finns will break their reserved exterior and introvertedness long enough to mingle and mesh with the personal spaces of multitudes of other Finns: a good sale! The "Crazy Days" of Stockmann (huge department store) began yesterday, and the whole place was packed with bargain hunters bumping into each other, diligent seekers digging through piles of clothing in search of the right sizes, and long lines at the busy cash registers. Why did I brave such a commotion? I was in search of some striped stockings and long underwear on sale (as I had realized a few mornings ago that by the time I have biked to the train station in the cold and foggy mornings, I have left my frozen thighs somewhere along the way, and really, this can continue no longer!). Stockmann, for the next few days, is prime grounds for my favorite hobby: people watching!

Recent Read: The Map of Love

Continuing on the topic of Egypt...
A thick book on Egyptian political history may sound dull, but The Map of Love by Ahdaf Soueif spans a century of time with letters, diaries, and characters that become so real they feel like friends. And it´s not so much about politics as it is about the people behind it, or the people affected by the people behind it.
I´ve generally found books that use correspondence as a medium to tell the story to be rather tedious, but not this one. As the pages dwindled and I arrived at the last one, I wished that the story would continue and that the characters were not so short lived as the pages that contained them.
And perhaps, also factored into this, is my admiration for Anna--the historical main character and author of the majority of these chronicles--as she is seen through her writing and through the eyes of her posterity as they read the journals of her old trunk. I mainly admired her desire to experience a country and a people for what it is and who they are, while her compatriots cared for little beyond their own society and how they could benefit from their country´s imperialistic interests in Egypt.

Memories of Egypt...

I´ve been thinking about Egypt a lot lately, pondering at my fascination with that ancient country and really, why is it so stuck in my heart? My own memories, my love of history, wonderful people, no concept of time, genuine hospitality, what else...

On the left here is Tita and Baby Bilel, with Mohammed in the background. This picture is from Summer 2004, when I became a member of their family in the three months I lived with them in Giza. They jokingly called me Laila Salmawi, and genuinely drew me into their lives in spite of language and cultural barriers. I think back on those months there and I know that there were hard moments of loneliness, weariness, and frustration. But I don´t really remember those too well, and instead I think back to nights of sitting on the cold tiles of the front porch eating bamya and watching tv on the little portable black and white set. I remember watching Tita messily eat a manga as the yellow juice runs down his grimy fingers and down his chin. I can hear him in the morning shouting as I come down the stairs, "Sabaah il-khiir, ya Laila!" I remember walks in the evenings along laberynthian streets with Asmaa and the neighborhood girls, arms linked and being totally clueless as to what they were saying the whole time. Mostafa´s face makes me laugh every time I think of him telling me that I´m crazy ("Inti maknuunah"). Countless hours I spent doing nothing but resting on the living room floor and rocking the baby...who peed on me regularly, learning how to make stuffed eggplants with Aymaan and keeping Mohammed company on some of his work days. I think of the amazing women at the Papyrus Shop and their kindness and humour. I think of Sinai and the Great Pyramid, camels in the desert, and all the shay you can drink, fabulous food, crazy (CRAZY) traffic, and the beauty of driving on the ring road toward "home" and seeing the familiar sight of the pyramids of the Giza plateau hazy in the setting sun.

Maybe it is memory that crystallizes and enhances our experiences, but there is something powerful and captivating in Egypt, and I haven´t even seen all of it yet!!! But I´m going back...

At my desk...

An empty juice glass rests on my desk, post-its with random notes lie haphazardously stuck on each other, a pink rose--given out to promote breast cancer awareness--leans toward me in a friendly fashion, sounds of mellow jazz float from my headset filling my office with sounds of years gone by as my sister smiles at me from Kensington Gardens in a wood-framed picture; and out of my window a gloomy view of office buildings set against a cold and gray sky makes me happy that I´m not that flag shivering on top of the hotel tower--

Such is the setting on this Monday morning, a morning that has brought sadness to my heart as I read the daily newspaper: mudslides in Guatemala have converted entire villages into graveyards and in Pakistan, India, and Afghanistan, the death tolls from Saturday´s earthquake keep rising to tens of thousands. These are only the headliners today, I´m certain that suffering is not limited to these places, nor do I expect it to be. The forces that cause chaos and pain are rampant--today Kashmir, yesterday Thailand, and tomorrow...? Somehow the gray sky seems appropriate in mourning, in commiseration.

Once upon a Thursday night...

Sartzu and Laila make a frightful discovery as they gaze in the mirror!

Gasp! "What has happened?" Sartzu and Laila ask as they realize that their faces are no longer peachy and healthy, no longer exuding rosy wellbeing and blushes!

"Hmmm," Sartzu takes a closer look as Laila's face cracks and she bemoans the mold that has overtaken it, "Age, dear cousin, it could be age." Or the leftover cabbage souffle I finished off this morning, Laila thinks with a grimace.

Laila peers in for a closer look, "Indeed, I can see the crows feet around my eyes..."
"You don't think this will spread to the rest of our bodies, do you?" Sartzu is curious.

"No!" Laila says emphatically, "See, my finger still fits in my nose!"
"Mine too!" Sartzu realizes, so in spite of the mold, the world is at rights once again!

Life Online

So, as a new member of the blogger community, I have been perusing fellow bloggers´ sites with avid curiosity. My goodness! If you think it, wonder it, want it, hate it, question it, love it, ignore it, protest it--whatever you can come up with, it´s online. From individuals and companies around the world you can glean information from A to Z: products to deal with stretch marks, home equity information in the state of Arkansas, lonely book reviews in Spanish, the latest fashion faux pas described by witty women, holiday fotos of kids far from home, and rambling travel descriptions of rural Turkish villages. I love it!

My online life, my little voice here, is a curious thing. I have this subconscious drive to describe surroundings, feelings, effects, and people so that others can share my world. But I also see this drive as a purification. In my head are a thousands, millions of thoughts a day, often accompanied by expressions and annoying feelings. They cry for an outlet. Thus, in the form of words on a screen, they drain out of me, leaving me lighter, and producing a logical and almost physical form to replace the haze of cluttered thoughts.

Why is this important? I went through a lot of pain this year, and it was suffocating. I couldn´t talk to people about what was going on in my life because I was manipulated by someone (ex-fiancé) to think that others didn´t need to know our problems, that indeed, they couldn´t possibly understand. This is an extremely multi-faceted issue, but in my ongoing analysis, I say that when someone becomes a victim of another person´s manipulation and anger (and one´s own love for that person), the victim´s person shrinks. In my case, I think that I went through a brainwashing--I was fed lies that I believed inspite of my whole being repelling it, because I was led to believe, "it is God´s will." What a crock!

I have asked God to restore and renew me, and thus I know I am on a stretch of life that could be titled, "Healing and Rest." I know that at the end of this stretch is complete healing, but I just wonder what I will see and wade through along the way. It has taken me long enough to recuperate my own capacity for decision making and asking myself what I truly want--and let me tell you, there´s power in that! But...returning to the topic of online life...this is a manifestation of the desire for the opposite of suffocated silence--honest openness and warm communication!

The Introduction

My first entry.
I have long contemplated what this journal is to be about and why I am writing it...but it boils down to one main thing: I love stories. Writing is such a creative and powerful means of communication. Writing creates a world and a reality that is of the author's choice, it probes thoughts and ideas, it dresses the world with descriptions and personalities, it expresses the emotions found in the depths of the human being, and brings to light things that others may have blindly ignored.
I do not mean that I am about to begin writing some fictional story. Good writers don't write about things they have no clue about. (Note to reader: I'm a good-writer-wannabe) Instead, the collection of these words will become a story about my life, the entries themselves serving as small snapshots and glimpses of the circumstances, the conversations, the growth, the questions of one mind among the many in this world. Call it an exercise in self-examination, a quest for truth and knowledge, a fetish for writing, too much time on my hands, etc.
The fact that you are reading these words means that your discovery of my site is not accidental. You are either curious, a friend that I miss, or someone who enjoys those long conversations about life over a cup of coffee, where we grow and expand and become a bit more curious, and a bit more aware. So please, respond to my musings as I refill your mug and settle next to you to continue the conversation...