الخميس، 31 مايو 2012

Words for my Father

Words for my Father

This May I turned 47 and you 74; is not this something? Sharing the same digits of our age for a whole year?
 I wish I can share more of your qualities, mindset, and deeds!  This man is great in his own special way that makes you wonder how one person can help so many people willingly and devotedly without ever waiting for a thank you?
He helped me and my brothers and sister, and he still supports all of us in all possible means. You may think it is his duty as a father to do so, but he does it in the most casual and natural manner that would not tell you he is there; he is the guardian angel helping and protecting others without being visible to them.    Complete self-denial and unconditional love is what he is capable of with all people, not just his sons and daughters but his brothers and sisters, his in-laws, his neighbors, his colleagues and  those working for him, with strangers on the street. The word father to me is the equivalent of natural kindness, essential goodness, devoted care and real humanity.  My father has the capacity for pure, unconditional love that can change the world for a better place.
Dear father, I remember the nights you spent awake because I had exams and you won’t sleep before you made sure I did.  I remember the early mornings when you took me to the train station before 6 a.m. to be able to attend my lectures in Cairo.  I remember the times you spent by mother when she got sick and you insisted to do everything for her, no help accepted from anyone.  I remember the first contact lenses you went into so much trouble to get for me because you knew I hated wearing glasses, and the times you took me to the tailor in the middle of the night to get a new dress to wear for the exam, every exam.  You are a great father, husband, brother and an amazing human being.
Father, there is no way I can repay your love and kindness and care. No words to give you your due description; no deeds can thank you enough for being there for me, available all the time.   You are my model, my ideal and I only aspire I can be a fraction of who you are for those around me.  May Allah grant you health and wealth and happiness and keep you safe and sound for all of us.

Your loving daughter.
Abeer Mostafa Elgamal

الأربعاء، 23 مايو 2012

The Dream

 Diaries of a Driving Mother
"Watch out Mummy!!! Watch out; he is breaking your mirror", Nora screamed and then a smashing sound deafened my ears as I woke up terrified, but grateful that the accident was only a dream. I felt like a helpless little animal being hunted by a huge brutal one. Our black Lancer miraculously turned into a little rabbit chased by a dark vicious wolf that aimed at biting its left ear before devouring it.
I did not know how much I hated driving until I had that dream. Driving through Cairo traffic is a nightmare; it is a  a circus in which you perform without being trained. I spend half my days driving my twin teenagers, Nora and Ali, to private lessons, tennis training, doctor appointments, and outings with friends. Driving does not only strain my back and neck- having to spend hours tied to the car seat in streets that look like clogged arteries- but it also sucks all my energy, devours my nerves and raids my dreams. 
A driving woman in a male-oriented society triggers all kinds of reactions which men would normally repress in other situations. Whether they admit it or not, most men believe women should stay home to make "kofta" or "mahshy" and leave the outside world for them. Since they cannot afford to let their women stay home, men express their innermost feelings in malicious forms to women in the streets, and driving women get the largest share. That surely doubles the risks of my daily journeys with the twins.  
In my dream, I was driving the twins as usual, but we were heading to two different places at the same time. I kept driving back and forth in the same road "Tareek Al nasr", never reaching any destination. One moment I went in the direction leading to Al Mokatam, where they were supposed to have a private lesson, and the next I was in the opposite direction leading to Al Ahly club, Nasr city. I drove in my cautious, or rather "slow" manner, as my kids describe it. As it did in reality, my driving triggered two contradictory reactions in the twins, according to the destination I was heading.   When I drove in the direction of the club, they shouted "faster mummy, go faster, we will be late for the training" but when I went in the other direction, to the private lessons' center, they would be kind enough to support my lame driving saying: "take your time mummy; the teacher is never on time".
Usually, Nora is never silent on the way; she bugs me for one thing or another and interrupts my desperate attempts to focus on the road. All the time, she is planning for some event: a friend's surprise birthday party, an outing to the mall, a color festival, a paintball battle or a sand boarding day.  She is practical and clever enough to figure out that the best time to discuss the details of any of her projects with the driver, which is me, is when we are stuck in the car. At home I am always busy but in the mandatory prison which is our battered shark-faced Lancer, there is no way I can escape her. Sometimes I listen and sometimes I scold her to be able to totally focus my attention to the circus around me or I will lose control over our destiny.
"Mummy, we have to be there before five, it is the dead line for onsite registration". Nora decided enthusiastically.
"There where?" I dared to ask the stupid question as I maneuvered to avoid a sure attack from a microbus that aimed at my mirror.
Mummy, don't you ever listen to me?" Nora objected."
"I do sweetie, I do all the time. Where do you want to go? Is it tomorrow?" I tried to comfort her.
"Nooo, it is on Friday, we are going to the tennis colony for the championship."
"And where is that 'colony'? I tried to sound patient and gave Ali a quick look through the mirror, hoping that he might object to Nora's plan, but he was immersed in his blackberry chat as usual.
It is on Ismailia road 35 kilos away", she said."
I flinched at the thought of driving amongst the wildest trucks and buses on Cairo Ismailia road. I gathered my courage and said "we don’t have to join every championship; let's restrict ourselves to the ones in the city. You know I hate to drive on highways. What do you think Ali?" I tried to enlist his help with a quick look at him through the front mirror.
"Heh? What did you say Mum?" he inquired in his absent minded way.
"You are being a zombie again. Why don’t you leave that thing and join the conversation? I asked if that colony championship was really important?" I was starting to get really nervous.
"I don't want to go. If she goes I will join only to be with her." He said in the most causal manner that played on my nerves.
I was happy to get his support here but angry that he was letting his sister down as he always did when she needed him. I promised Nora I will think about it and tell her my decision when we go home.
Ever since they went to kindergarten, Ali and Nora did everything together. He was the lazy one; he wanted things just as much as she did but he did not exert any effort to get them; letting her do the buzzing job and fighting the whole battle for both of them. He played the king and she was the minister who had to carry out his plans. To me it was not fun or fair; it entitled him to sit and relax and let her do the dirty jobs, just like most women do in real life. It was not a game or a child's play as everyone around me insisted; it was a life-defining experience that will last forever. On most days she would carry both her and his school bags from class to the school gate where I waited them. He often ran to give me a hug while she toiled with the bags and it made me crazy that she did it voluntarily and he took it as his lawful right as the king!!  Every time I interfered to prevent his early male dominance and her submission, I regretted it because both of them have accepted the roles without any hard feelings and everyone blamed me for endangering their "twins" bond. My husband believed I worried too much about this matter that meant nothing to anyone but my "disturbed" mind which detects gender differentiation in every little behavior.
I did my best to accept their bond they way it is since they were both happy. Meanwhile, a question kept buzzing in my head: why cannot the "twins bond" work the other way round? I dared to ask my husband once and he simply asserted that it is the most natural thing in the world for the girl to "serve" her twin brother and that in time they will switch roles as he becomes a real man. "Honey, you are the only one who tries to go against the tide; just leave them alone to manage their own business", he wrapped the whole matter up in his cool nice manner that left me speechless.  And I tried to leave them alone, not all the time though. One time when they were in grade five they went too far and I had to pitch in. They were doing their finals when Ali gave Nora his exam sheet to answer for him before she answered hers. The teacher- who was once my student in college- was furious and called me and I rushed to school. It was not the act of cheating in this incident that drove me and Siham crazy; we were more concerned with the complete self denial Nora was capable of at such an early stage of her life. "That is it. I cannot leave the twins alone anymore and you have to help me fix their relationship", I told my husband furiously that day. But of course, I had to sail against the tide all by myself. I kept nagging them about the importance of co-operation, and the need of give and take simultaneously but nothing worked. I tried to be discreet and never accuse Ali of negligence or dominance but it seemed they both did not really care.
That night, after the dream, I decided I will not ride to the "colony" on Friday. I will take the day off, off housework, off the twins, off driving. "Dad will drive you safely and spend the whole day with you", I broke the news to them. I delegated the whole thing to my dear husband and let him sail against the tide for once.  
Abeer Elgamal
abeerxx66@yahoo.com