http://news.yahoo.com/blogs/new-york/muslims-police-scuffle-rye-playland-over-amusement-park-123309825.html
A hat is not a scarf...I have been on every kind of roller coaster there is...and my scarf has never even moved....my favorit part about it is the policemens statment (it's a safty issue for us on rides, it could become a projectile) ridiculise! a peice of clothe!!! come on...with such logic one should remove shoes-they are even scarier projectile and if clothe is so scary maybe people should start going on these rides with there underwear....my secound favorit part about the police mens statment is the word-for us ... so um who are you talking about exactly? the police force ,but they didnt come up with this law..so who are you talking about sir? everyone else except for the headscarf wearing folk i guess... these laws only encourge hate...is that what policemens jod is? to promote hate?
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Monday, August 29, 2011
Fear....
The most afraid I have ever been
A weird phenomena I have observed being far away from Damascus is that somehow the news seems more real.. Back in the beginning when I would watch the news and they would mention something happing a few blocks from my home, I wouldn’t really get that nervous and when men with guns started popping up on the road to my college and the mobile network was shut off there..it was somehow surreal, the only strong emotion I had was annoyance at the fact that I couldn’t call anyone, and amusement that the men with guns were butt ugly ( I am not kidding people)
But watching the news has become a whole different experience for me now, my imagination takes me to the most horrible place I always assume they are understating on the news, and that the worse has happen…so on Friday the 26th when my best friend sent me a message-have you seen the news? Something bad has happened pray for us, my heart stopped, In two seconds I was on the net to find out what had happened, they had attacked a mosque…a mosque that me and my friends have prayed in many times , one dead the report said many injured…one dead…the weight of that word out weighed every statistic I have ever heard …and I realized sometimes numbers where people…people you love, people you grew up with..I sent my friend a text…go on-line NOW, she did,
What happened
They attacked the mosque my brother was there…
(I swore) is he alright!?!?
Yes he escaped and hid in some random strangers house….she then told me the rest of the horrible story, how they had beaten the over sixty year old imam of the mosque –how there was blood caking the floor when they finally left, and how the Syrian national television went on the air to say basically (nothing happened)
Let me tell you- the time between the sentence my brother was there and the word yes was the longest scariest second I have ever experienced. Ever. By now I was sobbing and shaking…I told my friend I had to go to the bathroom but what I needed was to go tell my husband what just happened and let him hug me untill my heart remembered how to beat again..
Tolerance st.cloud style
In Damascus when people stared at me(and they rarely did) it usually meant a good thing, staring usually just meant (your pretty) or (have I seen you somewhere) …
In my damascene university (AIU) there was girls with stripes in their hair, girls who wore headscarves, girls who wore crosses, girls who wore the newest cutest jeans , girls who didn’t give a damn what they wore, and I never once felt out of place or like I didn’t belong
However St.cloud Minnesota is a completely different story…here they have mastered the art of staring …I dress weird so the st.cloudians stare… I look weird so the Somalians stare, and I don’t belong anywhere…
This kind of staring is new to me, it makes me want to disappear ..to shrink down…to hide, my little sister would have dealt with this much better I can just see her buying a red top-hat and wearing it around on top of her headscarf so that she would give them something to stare at.. but me? I have always done my best to blend in , while remaining unique, In my own subtle way…of course now I stand out like a sore thumb, and I feel the eyes on me boring holes into me, sticking to me so that no shower can wash them off.
In Damascus, we had a day off on Christmas and a day off on Eid (the Muslim- Christmas for lack of a better description) but in good old st.cloud I have three classes on Eid…how would any of them feel if they had three classes on Christmas? Probably just as crappy as I do.. as homesick as I am …
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Nusi in Wonderland: The End of A Season
Nusi in Wonderland: The End of A Season: The end of a season has swung by again. Its funny somehow that you never really see the end of this month peeking out at you from arou...
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Damascus...love essma
My country has had many years of drought it can be sandy and hot but in spring, There are jasmine bushes everywhere and if the winter is kind, then when spring comes streets fill with a sweet perfume, There is a tree lovingly dubbed (the crazy one) because when its spring the whole tree sprouts purple blossoms,I have seen spring in other countries, and it is greener else where with bigger and brighter flowers. But when I wake up in the morning open my window and a faint smell of jasmine comes in with the morning breeze, I wouldn’t rather be anywhere else in the world
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