An Egyptian living in Europe but her heart stayed back home. Having some random thoughts about the before and after pictures. Ghawayesh means bracelets. In my context it symbolizes the cuffs of my culture. I don't know if I like them or hate them. Thanks for passing by.

About Me

My photo
I started this blog in 2006 as a joke. Now that I look back, I have decided to take it seriously!

06 December 2006

Egyptian Women

Women, any women, or even men for that matter, are a reflection of their culture in everything they do.

So let's see what our culture (generally speaking) dictates us and how we react to it accordingly. (Please bear in mind that the different classes see things in variable degrees):

- Since childhood we can only play with dolls and kitchen appliances. Results: We are programmed to realize that we should be good house-keepers and baby carers. I bought my son a mini-washing machine, mini-vacuum cleaner, mini-iron and ironing board, mini-kitchen, and a baby doll (and they are all among his favorite toys), and when my (Egypt-based and Egypt-minded) sister saw that, she was stunned, and said: "Your son will become a homo".

- As we grow up, we constantly hear: "You're a girl, you can't do that. Only boys can do that". "That" can be anything adventurous; demanding physical strength; technical thinking or action; or freedom of movement. Result: We are cripples! We don't sport, we stand helpless if the kitchen sink is clogged, or the car breaks down, or the computer crashes. Hey! We are women and we need a man to save us, right? Travelling alone abroad is still a taboo to most of us (Things are changing now though, thumbs up). My sister was once at work and her boss told her: "You are one of my best employees, you're good enough to be a man! I think you should have your post-graduate degree abroad. But you won't go that far to live and travel alone like some women of nowadays do, would you? *said while he's rolling his eyes*. Wait until you marry maybe your husband will take you abroad". He didn't know of course that this very young woman he was talking to takes a role model in her sisters and her mother who did exactly what he finds so offensive.

- A girl's main goal in life should be to hunt down a man. No matter how high we reach, we are *nothing* without a man. From the moment puberty hits us in the butt, the rat-race starts. And in order to get one hooked, we have to be the perfect candidates.

Now the question is, who's the perfect candidate?

The more female the better. Okay how do I do that?

Walk like a woman. Result: We walk "gluteously". I think you get my point. Wearing high pointed heels all day. Get bunions, calluses, or claw-toes.. Who cares?

Talk like a woman. Result: We have two voices, one for home (the natural go33eerah), and one for outside, which is soft, harmonious, and more weasel-like.

Act like a woman. Results:

* If your car broke down, wait helplessly next to it and have the fragile look on your face until your hero emerges out of the nearest-by balla3ah (sewage hole).

* Don't be too clever. You can't be more clever than the guy. Pretend not to know anything about politics or science. You don't know any swear words/slang or anything about sex.

* Sell/present yourself well. Looks are mostly what matters. We have an obsession with the exterior.

Now who do you want to end up with? A conservative man who "knows God"? Well sister, then you gotta wear a higab/khimar/niqab/3abaya/melaya, no make-up or perfume, say nothing but God said and the prophet said, walk like an introvert and have an aura of a little scared mouse, hang around the religious circles and be best friends with people who seem to have eligible brothers or sons who happen to have contracts in KSA.

Now if you want a progressive, open-minded, Western-like dude, okay then baby, be my guest to look as European (and nowadays replace European with Lebanese) as you can. That of course becomes a reflection of what we see in the media. Only few of us know how European women are really like and be really like them (In a good way I mean, as in practical, hard-working, no fashion-freaks etc..). Okay what do I need for this? From top to toe: Blond hairs (bleach), white skin (make-up), a good body (Do a *Dyt*, pronounced the Egyptian way), but sorry, the boobs and the ass stay, guys like that, baby! Go to the hairdresser at least once a week. You can't let anyone know you have curly frizzy hair; what! You want to become an old-maid? And don't forget to get your 20 nails "did" while you're there. Don't forget to use loads of English and French into your Arabic, and a bonus is to use words like "mahdooma"(=digested, a Lebanese word which actually means nice!). Breaking News: The Lebanese have fake noses, boobs, lips and hips. Papa can buy you some too, if you wish. Oh and one more thing, your grandma is Turkish.

* You're a virgin. You will always be a friggin’ virgin. Forget all the Orfis and zombies you've been through (or better said, have been through you). YOU ARE A VIRGIN. Have been pregnant with 6 bastards and went to Dr. Amr of Heliopolis for some D&C and sewing up? Forget that, nothing happened. Y O U- A R E -A- V I R G I N! Mashi ya kotta?!

I was once in a wedding of people I didn't know too well, and as always I was observing. I could tell who's single and who's married. The married ones looked like trucks, and the single ones were still intact. The married ones moved in space like cookie monsters and talked like Stewies, and were beeloghghoo (engulfing) the food like there was no hope for a repeat, while the single ones were picking the food with the tip of their forks and spending a minute or two chewing on each tiny-winy bite. Hey! Maybe the man of their dreams, his mother, sister, SIL, or aunt is watching. Always be ready!

- The men are always right. If you get harassed or abused; shut up. It was your fault anyway. Why go out at night? Oh! You're a nurse and had a nightshift? Why did you become nurse?! To go out at night and be touched up by cute doctors, I bet! Why wear what you were wearing? Oh! You were wearing the veil? But the police "cross-examination" proves you had a hot black bra on. Why a hot black bra, of all bras, ya sharmoota? See? You're just asking for it!

- Now that there's someone finally proposing: Demand a butt-load of money for shabka and mahr. Make him feel you're worth millions. It will make him value you more. While actually deep down you can't believe that someone finally got trapped into marrying you, but hey, he is not supposed to know that you were a wo-man with a plan, and that your tricks finally worked. Et2aly! (literally translated: Be heavy!!)

- Now that you've finally gotten married:

* You know nothing about sex (I know you do, but do as if). Never ask for it, never say what you want, never show him the way to your clitoris (if it is still alive and budding), or else he will think you're experienced. Want to lose your King Kong, baby? Go a head then and enjoy sex and make him feel suspicious! You deserve all what you get then . I know sex feels like a frontal collision on Cairo-Alexandria Road; I know you have chronic pain and discomfort because of it; and I know you are often forced to do it, but hey, shut up and open those lovelies/fuglies for the master of disaster approaching in maximum speed.

* You're married! Hurraaaayyyy! You're a winner! Next step: DO NOT by any chance let go of him. Men are natural cheaters. Do not lose sight of him. Do not let him talk to other women. Tell the kids to spy on him for you. Even if you can't afford food. GET HIM A MOBILE! Then you know where he is all day. Stalk the testosterone out of him. Call him every other hour and ask him where he is and what he's doing. I know you're busy with the kids and the house, and you haven't noticed the miserable shape you're in, but as long as you got him the kids, time for the roles to turn hun.


He won't leave you! You have kids with him! Now baby, have the morning, midday and evening fight as you wish. Nakkedy (cause annoyance and trouble) as you like. Remember, you are the mother of his kids, and he will always be weak for that.

Insult his manhood, his brains, his miserable income, his family, throw stilettos at him at the lobby of Omar Effendi, JUST DO IT baby and your mother is totally behind you!

And at the end of the day, receive a good beating just to recap on who the real boss is, and to bring the balance back into the relationship, sealed with a fcuk.

Repeat the cycle if you're a good girl, or break free like my mommy and me.

27 November 2006

16 November 2006

Top 10 Things You Can Do to Insult an Egyptian

1. Throw a shoe at him or give him an "afa" !!

2. Call his father names, like a dog or a homo.

3. Call his mother names, like a bitch or sharm**ta, or name her body parts, especially her kitten.

4. Call his mother's name.

5. Male to male: Ask him about his sister or wife or any female member of the family. Like how they're doing or if the single ones are seeing anyone.

6. Tell him the Egyptians didn't build the pyramids, or if he's a government official, that there are defects in his system.

7. Tell him he looks or acts like a Jew.

8. Try to drive faster than him or "teksar" on him!

9. Question his manhood and the size of his member, or his sexual preferences.

10. Criticize, mock or swear at his religion or religious figures.

Feel free to add to the list.

08 November 2006

To All the Attention Whores I Loved Before!

First off.. Define freedom!!

So the boys and girls growing up in the modern times have, of course, different definitions of things. That's logical and acceptable. Times change and so do people.

But somethings have to stay the same. They just gotta be the same. Take the 10 commandments.. You can't just say it's 2006 so it's kewl to be a motha fukka!!

You simply cannot fcuk your mother, any time, any where, you just can't.

Now that the times have changed, and some of us have managed to start their own blogs to practice the freedom of speech they longed for, a new generation of attention whores has emerged. Creatures that have no understanding whatsoever of democracy or freedom.

I mean isn't this message clear? : "I do not want Mubarak".. Or "I hate Mubarak's policies".. Or even "I hate Mubarak".. Or even worse "He's dumb and fat"..

But what does calling him, or anyone else you disagree with a "Ibn el-moa7allel" actually mean? Or calling his mother sharmoota and his father kalb?

Now I have never in my life heard or read those phrases in a democratic and civilized debate.

This is not yet the morale of my post. Please read further..

Now when an irresponsible retard starts a blog just to throw mud at the prophet, any prophet, to call him names and make up stories about his life, then it's about time to gaze and think: Is this really freedom?

Or is he just another attention whore?

I was very happy when I started reading all those blogs of young Egyptians who have proven my stereotyping wrong. I though the youngsters among us were the ultimate hayafa nation..

I was wrong. Some are incredibly educated and mature for their age. But some others simply need to be rehabilitated.

On top of the list is the ahbal author of this blog called Democratic Egypt, Mr. Maged Salamah. Scroll down and read what he has to say about Islam, Muslims, and the prophet Mohamed.

In my worst of the worst nightmares, I have never seen a Muslim bash at Jesus or call him names. So why dare do the opposite?

That's not freedom ya shater. That's lack of tarbeyah.

Now, his last post was on Monday, July 31, 2006. Afterwards, nothing was ever heard of him. He disappeared without a trace.

I am sure his mama isn't happy now.

But I'm also sure he's receiving the education his mama has failed to give him.

And I am sad to say I am not feeling the slightest compassion with him.

05 November 2006

I Want to be Famous

If you want to know the plot of this post, you will have to read every word of it.

You know there are sometimes things that you hear or see and you just never forget. Things that immediately make it into your permanent memory and pop out as flying-by thoughts every now and then. They don't have to be major events. Just small clips of events you lived to witness.

Since I was a child, I have noticed there was a major difference between the East and the West in the way women are viewed, and therefore a difference in the way women in the two directions express themselves. The very small details always caught my attention and stayed in my memory. The way they dress, the way they wear make-up, the way the walk, the way they talk (this one needs a separate article), and the way they view the world and themselves.

I have those short memory-clips of some Egyptian women walking like an Egyptian-- If you know what I mean -- and talking like one: as a weasel in a porn, and using those cliche words like: "Ma3sha Alloooooo, you look like a mooooon.. M3erci3 A3wi, R3abben Ykhal333eeeeky, h3e h3e" (with a weasel tone, get the picture?).

On the other hand, needless to say that Western women always seemed more free and self-assured to me. They could do whatever they wanted, in a good or a bad way, since men often saw them as equals.

Sometimes I really wondered how far those Western women would go..

One evening I was among a group of people, I can't recall where or who or how, all I can remember is that a Dutch guy (with a stress on *Dutch*, coming from a place where you can be as rude as you want and get away with it) suddenly said: "I would forgive everything, but if I find out that my girlfriend poops, I will immediately break up with her".

I have absolutely no idea why this sentence is engraved in my memory.

A-HA! So there ARE differences like the ones we have.

But I once had a roommate who insisted on having red wine every evening for dinner.. And to my bad luck we had a morning schedule for using the toilet and the shower, in which I used the toilet after her.

MAN! What can a glass of red wine in the evening do to the odor of your morning-after poop!

I was just sitting there *crying* while turning blue every morning.

A memory clip of me entering the toilet and being overwhelmed with this "HABW" of smell is still saved in my hemispheres.

On the other hand, I have a sister who didn't do a number two for three months after her wedding out of fear of her husband hearing her fart or find any post-Kaka odeur.

I recalled all this this morning.. As I was sitting on my "throne", something occurred to me: How do cultures differ considering women and pooping?

As an Egyptian and as a woman, do I poop like others? I wonder.. Has there ever been any research on trans-cultural pooping styles and smells?

There are many options.. You can sit with your knees close together when you squeeze, or have the legs wide open, sit up straight, lean back, or lean forward. Rest the head on your fists during those long poops, or on the tip of your toes as opposed to having your feet flat on the ground; you can sit long enough to have sleepy legs, or to have toilet seat marks on the back of your thighs and two elbow-imprints just above your knees..

Do you read on the throne?

Do you take your time? Or are you always in a hurry?

Is the mission often impossible?

Do you try to be quiet in public toilets? Do you feel any sense of obligation towards other people's feelings? Do you get the guts to go uninhibited if and only if your neighbor broke the taboo and started an orchestra?

Do you go nuts when a drop of water jumps back to hit you in the butt like a stray bullet?

How would you feel/react if you found out there's no toilet paper left?

And as an Egyptian, when you go abroad, how disgusted do you feel if there's no shattafah in da hood?

And afterwards,

Do you ever say goodbye to your poop? Do you ever look back and check on it, taking into consideration that your poop tells books about your health? Dutch toilets have this great feature of a poop scoop, where there's a platform that receives the stools and keeps them on display until you decide to flush farewell.

Do you try to hide the smell like a maniac?

How would you feel if you found out that the toilet won't flush?

I wonder. Do pooping rituals say something about us? Are there cultural styles in the way we poop? Does it have to do with our personality?

And one last thought: Old-fashioned French toilets are the BEST invention for the constipation nation. The lower the toilet, the better. Did you know that? If you are constipated, just 2arfas, or put a box under your feet so they would become as high as possible. Satisfaction is guaranteed.

So what exactly is the plot of this post?

All my life I wanted to be famous. For something.. Anything..

And now that the memory of this post, and hence me, will pop out in front of you every time you use the toilet, then it is making me famous enough.

Mission accomplished.


A “women in black” silent stand will be held next Thursday 9 November from 12-2 @ the Press Syndicate (neqabet el-sa7afeyyeen) to resent the Eid Events at Downtown.

I wish I was there. :(

All the best ladies and hopefully there won't be official poking employees sent out to make your lives hell.


04 November 2006

The Obscene Post

I have been down in the last couple of days. Cried my heart out under the shower. If you've been on a holiday in Mars then I should tell you why, it's the Eid incidents ya fakeek!

You see, I do not know ONE female in Egypt who wasn't sexually harassed. As a child of 5, I was molested by one of the guards (very old man) of the sporting club my family went to. As a teenager, I was harassed and abused by an older cousin and another relative. As a student, I ONCE got onto a public bus and you know the rest of the story (Please hold this thought.. Isn't it sad that you know the rest of the story?). At work (in Egypt), I was almost raped by my boss who, to the outside world, was happily married to this wonderful lady, but he was nothing more than a fat pig with chocolate salty balls!

Thankfully nothing major happened, but it did definitely leave its marks on me. I get attacks of "unexplained"(roll eyes bel2awy!) anger at the mention of men and women and relations in Egypt.

Now my two younger sisters got their boobs and genitals touched and squeezed at least once a week on regular basis, until one of them landed in depression and refused to leave the house and doesn't even open the door to anyone who is suspected to have a penis. The other (newly wed) moved to live with her husband in the middle of nowhere and has a huge guarding dog trained to bite off any penis upon request. (Enjoy the thought guys, evil grin).

Now if you're the type of person who thinks of rape and harassment as the woman's fault, then please bugger off and never read this blog again and I hope to God you die and live to eternity with a hot and glowing pole up your hole. Amen.

Now the sharameet at the Ministry of whatever the bug it's called, Interiors is it? Interiors my anus, what do you exactly understand under Interiors? Huh? Is it the guts you're filling all day and farting the night away afterwards? What exactly are you doing ya sons of puppies? only when women and peaceful demonstrators march out you come out and molest or beat the crap out of them? God is watching you in case you think of yourselves as big brothers. Oh and speaking of big, I suggest you do nothing about those Koroosh of yours!!!

Oh yeah back to the Ministry of Interior Kaka. Now you deny what happened because none of the young ladies reported abuse. We7yat ommokoo? Since when do we dare open our mouths and speak up of abuse? You ruin our lives and we become the face of sin if we did. Mesh keda walla eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeh?

In one of my next posts I will discuss verbal abuse. Which is sometimes even worse than the touchy feely poky grappy fingery squeezy pinchy slappy stuff.

Nothing works with those bastards. Please don't start the old religion and manners song. That's history ya baba. Now it's war time. Fear is the master of all manners and nothing will stop them but fear. I do not want to leave this earth before this terror of women in Egypt stops.

Castration is a great option. (You should see my face as I write this)

Have I ever mentioned that I have received some training in surgery and am willing to apply it upon request? (Big mother-bugging evil grin)

Okay I feel a bit better now. Thanks for listening.

Oh not really yet actually.. One more thing then: Tfooooooooooooooooo!! (a huge slimy one)


Have a nice day.

03 November 2006

Omar Effendi Becomes Sheikh Omar!!

FINALLY! Omar Effendi has been sold to the private sector!

And guess who bought it? THE SAUDIS!!!

Now I am looking forward to going shopping there. Hee hee!

All those huge companies like Sidnawi, Shemla, Ben Zayon, Ads, Rivolli and Omar Effendi, have been for way too long infested with mowazzafeen of the public sector.

Can't wait until they're all sold, don't care for who, and a new generation of companies should replace them, full of young enthusiastic employees, who are NOT the mowazzafeen type!

The Kuwaitis offered 300 millions for it a couple of months ago.

And I think the buyers paid more than 600 millions, but the thugs ruling us took most of them to buy their kids new hummers.

Well at least those 82 huge department stores won't be wasted on selling grandma's underwear anymore. That was the ONLY good thing you could buy there for the last 50 years! Weird types of cotton underwear!

Do you think Omar will soon be selling thongs? :D

A couple of questions for the Egyptians only:

How do you feel about selling such huge Egyptian companies to foreign investors of the private sector?

Would it change your view and attitudes towards a company after knowing that it's owned by foreign investors? How?

Fat Chance Belly Dance

(Originally created on July 23rd 2006)

Just got back from Egypt. Had the usual combination of best/shittiest time of my life. Nothing in-between. No moment was so so!

Too many impressions as usual.. But a thought for now.. I was just wondering if a considerable percentage of the Egyptians is becoming morbidly obese.

I spent 5 days in Agamy (town at the west coast of Alexandria, and yes I'm still stuck in the Agamy era, sorry!) and I was stunned by how fat people are becoming, especially the children. It looked like morbid obesity is hitting our nation not only in the ass, but also everywhere else!

I'm not talking about being a bit chubby or having problem areas, I'm talking about becoming human elephants, about affecting the Richter Scale as you run around, about causing a tsunami every time you hit the sea, about becoming diabetic and having killer blood cholesterol levels since childhood!!!!!!

As I was at the beach, my son made friends with a boy and a girl around his age, and I got into a conversation with their mother, who asked me if my son was sick because he looked so skinny! I thought holy God those people are sick AND in denial. She simply believes that the two fatsos she has are the perfect kids.

During that day, the beach guards have managed to save a woman who I thought was a whale about to be beached, and that got me to wonder why a fully dressed fatso that cannot swim would go into high sea while the black flag is at mast.

A more or less related thing I have noticed as we arrived to our Agamy house, was that my mother freaked out because the satellite dish didn't work, while she hardly noticed the absence of water for two days! But for all honesty I have to admit she wanted to follow the devastating events of Lebanon.

Another incident, my sister went to Marina at 7 AM to spend a day at the ladies' beach, and the town looked like it was dead until MIDDAY when she finally found an open cafe where she was received by a m3ammas waiter in his pyjamas!

And then I thought.. Is it all due to the dish addiction that we're becoming so fat?

Or is the whole nation becoming a bunch of bats who have nothing else to do but talk the night away while consuming a million calories a night?

Now WTF was the mother of this boy thinking?
The Mostafa-Thinks-He's-Cute Video
(Oh and one more thought, Mostafa, if you keep doing this belly dance show beyond the age of 10, especially in weddings, you will be sorry!)

Egyptian She-Bloggers.. Yeah Baby!

Just wanted to let you know that I was there.

I read, laughed and cried, was impressed and depressed, over-joyed and pissed.

Sending you my love.


One Woman Show
A bouquet of them

02 November 2006

Za New Look Phenomenon!

Now one of the new expressions that REALLY tick me off is getting a : "New Look".

I don't know which moron first used it, but I bet my descending colon it's some Lebanese anorexic mozza with some zeppelin boobs on some "digested" channel. Now what on earth does that mean? What do women do to have a new look? Dye the hair blond and get a new haircut? Shove colored contacts into the eyeballs and walk around scaring the shit out of little kids? Buy a whole new wardrobe that shows all the ass-ets? Go under the knife? I find this such an extreme contradiction to the tsunami of religiousness sweeping Egypt off of her feet. Is it that the modern Egyptian woman either becomes a black tent or a clown? Nothing in-between? Why are we becoming so extreme? Why can't we just be "normal"? If such thing as being normal ever exists!!

Once I didn't go to Egypt for a whole year (I usually go at least 4 times a year and still see strange changes every time I go), but that one time I missed the scene for 12 months I was simply mortified! I was like, what the hell happened to women's eyebrows? And what's this strange slutty attitude? In the mean time, I was like whoaaaa, where did all those covered women come from? It was a very weird feeling of feeling like a total misfit.

Can't we do *anything* in moderation


The Only Way is Up!!

With the hype around Viagra in Egypt and the Arab World, and the increasing number of divorces in Egypt after less than a couple of months of tying the knot, there have been rumors that a considerable number of Egyptian men are becoming IMPOTENT .They say the worse the degree of impotence, the more aggressive the male becomes, especially towards women. I mean, My GOD, even the *Saudis* dare advertise the blue pill without any shame. (The Arabic sentence in the commercial reads: "Hardness is what matters" or "The value is in hardness" )

Now *that* is something I haven't seen the cheeky Europeans do just yet!

I once read this post by a young man on a famous Egyptian forum:

I don't know about the impotency ratio in Egypt, but there is something
I found fascinating. When I was in the army and dealing with those volunteers who live somewhat by low standards (actually i think they only reason they joined the army is because they couldn't make a living out of anything else, most of them haven't finished primary school), the biggest concern these people had was obtaining Viagra. It was like a common interest between all them. Not one time
did I sit with one them without having mention sex and Viagra. I don't know if
it's because of impotency now that you mention it, or that's how they like to live. They finish work, and are probably too tired of thinking about getting a hard on by themselves to sleep with their wives so they just let Viagra do it for them. From what I hear these people do make a decent amount of money but the reason they don't own much is because they spend it mostly on Viagra and drugs (which makes me realize maybe the Viagra is needed to counter the effect of

Question now: Does girth really matter?

To this young man:

This is totally new info to me. It makes me feel sad to read this because until I read your post I thought the reason for impotence among most Egyptian men from the countryside (those 3asakri's you see everyday around the city) was Bilharzia NOT drugs. I mean this is really double trouble now.

To answer your question, "size", one is born with, and it does not matter how big the penis is when one has no idea what to do with a huge chunk of meat. The size of the penis has no relation to sexual pleasure or performance. But I guess with asking about "girth" you more aim at asking about "hardness" than size. So performance is about the ability to get and maintain an erection or to provide sexual pleasure to your partner and yourself with or without an erection.

Performance, then, is not really related to size -- but dependent on muscles, blood and nerve supply to the reproductive organs. In reality sexual pleasure is related to: a person's state of mind; to respecting their partner's needs; and their own needs. During intercourse, the opening of the vagina is normally not too small or too large for any penis because it is really a "space" that is surrounded by muscular tissue and will adapt to most size penises. But for penetration to occur, one needs a well erected penis. Be it small or large, the hardness of it is the important aspect of successful penetration. There are also many ways to express sexual feeling besides intercourse. Touching, many different positions, methods, angles, pressures etc. that change the way it feels and may increase pleasure. Variation and experimentation will vary the sexual experience in ways that a change in penis size can not! So much marital trouble in our society could be prevented if and only if couples learn the importance of foreplay. For the sad time being, most Egyptian bulls see a good sex session more like a full-speed frontal collision!


What's the deal guys?

The End is Near

The next revolution has started already. It's taking the next forms:

1- A wave of cyber-anger summing up. Communities forming and people talking. It's a snowball effect that the government cannot overcome if the ball becomes big enough.

2- The wave of brainwashing the Egyptians with the slogan: "Islam is the Solution", which is turning Egypt into a country of religious freaks who think Islam is only about wearing a veil and growing a beard and hating the West, and being busy with the most trivial things, like making a national case, taking months, of fighting over whether a hole in a bed-sheet during sex is the best way to mate.

3- A wave of violence and crime among the new generation that has too much time and too little money. Be it street-fighting (with or without swords!!), stealing, raping, killing, sabotage, drugs-use, etc.. See the latest events in Down Town Cairo!!

4- A tsunami of people emigrating, especially the Christians and the highly-educated. The demography of Egypt is changing dramatically and it's all because of what's going on (I posted a thread about this once but no-one cared to reply)

5- A considerable number of people escaping from reality and simply going nuts and start wandering in the streets screaming all kinds of weird slogans, including fcuk Mubarak, but hey they're nuts, right?

But I am very scared of this snowball. I'd rather have Mubarak than a state of anarchy in Egypt. You know what could happen if Mubarak is thrown off and no-one is really in charge anymore? There will be a civil war, total loss of control. Women will be raped and houses and shops and museums will be looted and sabotaged in broad daylight. And if the MB take over, then we will be another Iran for God only knows how long. Unfortunately our people, like any other people in the world, need to get some training in what democracy really means (although I HATE this word being abused and overused by Bush and his likes). We Egyptians do not know how to get into a discussion or a fight. It always ends up in insults and bloodshed. Have you just heard of the family fight in Upper Egypt where 5 people were killed? A guy and his cousin got into an argument about the borders of their adjacent lands so one went and picked up his machine gun and killed the other guy's wife with 50 bullets in her belly and also 4 of his children including an 8 month old baby. I am not a fan of Nasser because he had a big mouth that got us into deep trouble with the West, but I now understand the tears in my mother's eyes at the mention of his name. He managed to bring Egypt to unity against monarchy, and to transfer us smoothly into a new system where everyone is supposedly equal without one drop of blood shed. What we need is someone who can direct the snowball into the right direction. An incredibly charismatic person with whom everybody can identify. You know like how Amr Khaled managed to brain wash the young people, but just a politician instead. I mean Amr Khaled is not himself the annoying person. He's actually great in the way he managed to make so many people adopt a better way of life, like this trend of visiting orphanages and stuff ( the so-called Ta3a Gdeeda ) But what ticks me is the mass hysteria around him. Guys now saying: "I'm a good man, I listen to Amr Khaled" And that the person becomes the law and if you object on him you become outlawed. We are losing our identity and do not see the light at the end of the tunnel and it's breaking my heart to see people jump from extreme to extreme being spitting images of each other or of what they see on satellite channels. We can't say Mubarak bugger off without having a post-Mubarak plan. That's dumb and childish. Anger is good, but not enough. But I'm sure one day we will regain our balance and go back to be the great nation we have always been. God didn't say enter Egypt safe in his holy words for nothing. Hope is wonderful. Let's have hope.
The end is near. Whatever that means!

01 November 2006

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Blast From The Past.. Darkies Don't Qualify

(I removed the previous picture because I suddenly realized that the painting was incredibly ugly!)

It was 1978 when presidents Sadat & Carter were meeting in Cairo for their peace talks. I was then a small kid, but my parents have been telling me about politics. I was so in love with Sadat because he was bringing peace to the world. He was my hero that I would have loved to meet. A representative of the presidential office came to our school to ask if they could get a boy & a girl to be flower bearers & would present them to the two presidents. They chose me because I was the best of the school, spoke fluent English and knew a lot for my age. I put my mother through hell to get me a little white dress for the occasion. I couldn't sleep the night before I was scheduled to go. The next day I went to school with my white dress on, went to the principal's room, and just as I was at the door, I saw a blond girl with a white dress on, standing there with a self-assured smile, and I overheard two teachers talking to each other: "We'll take her, she's so beautiful, much nicer looking than the other dark girl"....

Blast From The Past.. Driving in Cairo

It happened about 10 years ago but I'll never forget it. It was early in the morning and I was bringing my 10-year-younger sister (who's very very sweet & delicate unlike her evil big sis.. Hehe) to her school by car. We had just left the house and the weather was so beautiful & fresh, and I was so relaxed behind the wheel of my father's huge Mercedes telling my sister jokes 'n stuff. We were driving in Baghdad street in Korba, Heliopolis, when all of a sudden some maniac came out from a side street cutting our way with his car. My heart almost stopped trying to avoid landing with my front into his side. All I could think of was that I didn't want my sister to land on his lap! Anyway, God saved the queen and we did not land into anything but still made a dramatic stop with a very loud squeak of the breaks. That maniac didn't even take a glance in the mirror to see what might have happened, and just drove away.. Behind me there was a little Fiat127 car that of course had to stop because of me with a distance of less than half a meter I would say.. In it there was another "man", who, of course, stuck his head out and called me "hmara, cannot drive, etc.." I was so angry cos it was just so unfair from the two of them to spoil my day, but I just never swore back at people in traffic, at least in the presence of my sister, so I didn't reply.. In my fit of anger, I put the gear on first and stepped with all my power on the gas. And VOOOOM, the car jumped...... BACKWARDS... MY GOD, MY FATHER'S CAR'S GEAR IS THE OTHER WAY AROUND FROM WHAT I'M USED TO IN MY CAR.. Needles to say, I landed with all the weight of my holy cow on the poor guy's Fiat.. Against all the laws of physics, whilst his car instantly had become to resemble a flower (!), mine did not have a scratch (Mercedes Mercedes ueber alles!). What had happened next was really like a nightmare. In a second the guy with the smashed car jumped out of his car and was heading towards me. He held the handle of my door and I could see the devil in his eyes. I was so scared of him especially that my sister was mortified and I felt so protective of her. So I just drove off, maximum speed! Guess what, the idiot wouldn't let go of my car. So I had him hanging on my car for a couple of seconds before he slipped and fell on his face in the middle of the street. My sister was wailing.. As I raced away from the scene of the crime, I looked in the mirror to see him lying there like he was playing "Return of the Mummy", trying to raise his arm asking for help.. I dropped my mortified sis at her school and raced back home and cried all day.. Ten years later, only this summer, my sister suddenly said to me: "..You shouldn't have smashed that guy's car. You should have forgiven him".. "Oh my God, all this time you thought I did that intentionally?" I said..

"I Just cannot drive"..............

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