Assalam u alaikum,
*Ameer grins widely.*
Alhamdulillah everything is going well. Contrary to my expectations, I did well on the test, alhamdullillah. My teacher was happy with me. Ustadh Ibrahim was very tired today, however. Poor man, he lives more than an hour away from Markaz Al-Diwan. He gets there at eight in the morning and teaches till eight at night, six days a week. And he's always an amazing teacher, even when you can tell he has a pounding headache.
I have to say, doing well on the test gave me a little boost of confidence. I'm not trying to prideful or anything, but to me it was a sign that not everything is bouncing off my skull. Talking to people in Arabic doesn't seem so much like an exercise in futility.
The muwadhaf (worker) at Tomatoes has struck up a really good relationship with me now. He's always helping me with my homework, talking to me in Arabic, even though it's difficult for him to speak in fus'ha (standard Arabic, proper Arabic) instead of ammiyya (slang).
By the way, Murtada bhai if you are reading this Mustafa Al-Khadar (I think that's his name) sends his salaamz to you and says, "Anna uhubuka fi Allah."
Ammo Ramly, one of our good friends and teachers who used to live in Edmonton, couldn't come to visit us today. His son got sick and he couldn't come. Insha'allaah he will come on Friday.
OH I am so much looking forward to playing soccer on Friday. As Abdullah would say, " Insha'allah, insha'allah, insha'allah, insha'allah, insha'allahinsha'allah, insha'allahinsha'allahinsha'allah,insha'allah,insha'allah,insha'allahinsha'allahinsha'allahinsha'allahinsha'allah,insha'allah,insha'allahinsha'allahinsha'allahinsha'allah."
insha'allah."
Okay that's enough.
Insha'allah we are going to the bookstores on Shari' Azhar to get a grammar book and dictionary on Jumma insha'allah.
By the way I have a cellphone now. Someone please make a feeble attempt to call me.
Ma'asalam,
~Ameer
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Yawm Al-Arbu'a
Assalam u alaikum,
I am typing to you from Al-Diwan about half an hour before my lesson, which is why my title for the post has to be in arabi (yawm al-arbu'a is Wednesday). Alhamdulillah everything is going well. I am going to find out about my test results today. Insha'allah they will be good. Yesterday I was worried about the test but today I am not because I realized that the test doesn't matter: it's whether I've learned more Arabic or not. I guess that's how it is for every test, but even more so for Arabic because we're not going to get a degree after this or any kind of recognition or anything. It's just Allah and me and the books and Arabic and Allah.
Intehaytu al-dars (I am done my lecture for today).
Today we bought a phone card from Vodafone. It wasn't hard to do in retrospect but it's very stressful at the time. You're mind has to be switched on to turbo to figure out what's going on. I don't have it the cellphone on right now because I would hate to see what would happen to me if the phone went off during the class, but I'll have it on insha'allah the rest of the time. The number is: 016-240-1963. I think you have to put the Cairo code in first (02). I am not sure, so try it. Farooq bhai any ideas?
Okay I have to go.
Ma'asalam,
~Ameer
I am typing to you from Al-Diwan about half an hour before my lesson, which is why my title for the post has to be in arabi (yawm al-arbu'a is Wednesday). Alhamdulillah everything is going well. I am going to find out about my test results today. Insha'allah they will be good. Yesterday I was worried about the test but today I am not because I realized that the test doesn't matter: it's whether I've learned more Arabic or not. I guess that's how it is for every test, but even more so for Arabic because we're not going to get a degree after this or any kind of recognition or anything. It's just Allah and me and the books and Arabic and Allah.
Intehaytu al-dars (I am done my lecture for today).
Today we bought a phone card from Vodafone. It wasn't hard to do in retrospect but it's very stressful at the time. You're mind has to be switched on to turbo to figure out what's going on. I don't have it the cellphone on right now because I would hate to see what would happen to me if the phone went off during the class, but I'll have it on insha'allah the rest of the time. The number is: 016-240-1963. I think you have to put the Cairo code in first (02). I am not sure, so try it. Farooq bhai any ideas?
Okay I have to go.
Ma'asalam,
~Ameer
Monday, February 26, 2007
Test Tomorrow
Assalam u alaikum,
I am writing to you from the al-Diwan computer today (it's open to all students of al-Diwan). Alhamdulillah my classes are going well. Unfortunately I won't be able to come to the internet cafe tonight because I have my mid-level test tomorrow (mid-level? I mean in the middle of my marhalah). Please pray that I do well insha'allah.
I don't want to imagine the alternative with my teacher.
:D
Ma'asalam
~Ameer
I am writing to you from the al-Diwan computer today (it's open to all students of al-Diwan). Alhamdulillah my classes are going well. Unfortunately I won't be able to come to the internet cafe tonight because I have my mid-level test tomorrow (mid-level? I mean in the middle of my marhalah). Please pray that I do well insha'allah.
I don't want to imagine the alternative with my teacher.
:D
Ma'asalam
~Ameer
Building Blocks
Bismillah
The more time I spend in Cairo, the more I learn more about myself, the country I'm from, and the city I'm in. Before I got to Cairo, I thought about things in all or none terms. I don't know Arabic, I just need to go to Cairo, and bang, Arabic. Process of diffusion at it's best. More and more though, I realize that things do not happen all at once. We need to build little blocks every day. It's not as easy as the sudden messiah transformation approach, but I think it's the correct one.
Living in Cairo is like living between two camps. One camp is the wealthier, younger, middle class Egyptians, who have just enough of the West to die to be like them, and the other is the older, poorer class who will do anything to hang onto the old ways; as a result, Islam itself is obscured with customs and practices not neccesarily part of it. It reminds me alot of a poem I studied in Speech:
"Dover Beach" by Matthew Arnold.
Ah, love, let us be true/To one another!
for the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.
The more time I spend in Cairo, the more I learn more about myself, the country I'm from, and the city I'm in. Before I got to Cairo, I thought about things in all or none terms. I don't know Arabic, I just need to go to Cairo, and bang, Arabic. Process of diffusion at it's best. More and more though, I realize that things do not happen all at once. We need to build little blocks every day. It's not as easy as the sudden messiah transformation approach, but I think it's the correct one.
Living in Cairo is like living between two camps. One camp is the wealthier, younger, middle class Egyptians, who have just enough of the West to die to be like them, and the other is the older, poorer class who will do anything to hang onto the old ways; as a result, Islam itself is obscured with customs and practices not neccesarily part of it. It reminds me alot of a poem I studied in Speech:
"Dover Beach" by Matthew Arnold.
Ah, love, let us be true/To one another!
for the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Hazrat Musa (AS)
Assalam u alaikum,
This morning I was reading Surah Kahf and I was reminded of the story of Hazrat Musa (AS) and Hazrat Khidhr (AS). Since I've come to Egypt, everything has a new significance for me. The story of Hazrat Yusuf (AS) is the story of a prophet who came to Egypt, as well as being a young man. The story of Hazrat Musa (AS) is doubly significant for me because he is an Egyptian, in a manner of speaking. And he also went out on the path of knowledge, even though he was a prophet. "Ya rajul ya batal" as my teacher would say. There is a lot you have to learn.
I thought I would describe more of the people that we have met in Egypt so that you can get a better idea of what our life is like here. I love one man who comes, who looks like an old Indian chief. He has that bronzed, chiselled face that looks like its made of wood, and he always has a serious expression until he smiles a large wide smile. Dressed in a long jubba with a big brown cloak, he has been here every fajr that I have been here. I don't know what it is that I like about the man. Maybe its just the smile, that breaks forth like a car driving with no headlight straight at you (don't worry, we're very careful when we cross the street-as careful as is possible, after that we just leave to Allah and taekwondo instincts).
Yesterday we ordered Prego's. True to its reputation, the food was very good, alhamdulillah. We ate burgers and fries, but alhamdulillah we have stopped drinking Pepsi. The problem is is that at Tomatoes, the man insists on giving us a free pepsi as part of the "bromotion". But what I try to do know is substitute pepsi with a coleslaw, and bring my own water in a small water bottle. Alhamdulillah that is working better.
Alhamdullillah my class was really good today. We studied about how to read "jareedatun arabeeyatun" (an arabic newspaper). The thing I love about Arabic is how everything is related. No word is isolated, like in English. The way you can convert a three letter word, like k a t a b a, into a million different words with so many different meanings is amazing. And all you need to know is the root, and you have the key.
My teacher drew a tree along with its roots. "The roots," he said in Arabic, "is called al-jizr. It is usually only three letter. When you look at the qamus, you search for the word using its jizr, not the actual word. The branches of this are the mustaqqat. By knowing the roots, you can figure out every mustaqqat by knowing the wazn or the balance." I wrote this at the risk of sounding pompous because I want 1.) to make it clear to myself, 2.) to try to convey the fact that it was not mistake that the Qur'an is in Arabic.
I am learning in Egypt that there is no such thing as a coincidence.
Ma'a salaam,
~Ameer
This morning I was reading Surah Kahf and I was reminded of the story of Hazrat Musa (AS) and Hazrat Khidhr (AS). Since I've come to Egypt, everything has a new significance for me. The story of Hazrat Yusuf (AS) is the story of a prophet who came to Egypt, as well as being a young man. The story of Hazrat Musa (AS) is doubly significant for me because he is an Egyptian, in a manner of speaking. And he also went out on the path of knowledge, even though he was a prophet. "Ya rajul ya batal" as my teacher would say. There is a lot you have to learn.
I thought I would describe more of the people that we have met in Egypt so that you can get a better idea of what our life is like here. I love one man who comes, who looks like an old Indian chief. He has that bronzed, chiselled face that looks like its made of wood, and he always has a serious expression until he smiles a large wide smile. Dressed in a long jubba with a big brown cloak, he has been here every fajr that I have been here. I don't know what it is that I like about the man. Maybe its just the smile, that breaks forth like a car driving with no headlight straight at you (don't worry, we're very careful when we cross the street-as careful as is possible, after that we just leave to Allah and taekwondo instincts).
Yesterday we ordered Prego's. True to its reputation, the food was very good, alhamdulillah. We ate burgers and fries, but alhamdulillah we have stopped drinking Pepsi. The problem is is that at Tomatoes, the man insists on giving us a free pepsi as part of the "bromotion". But what I try to do know is substitute pepsi with a coleslaw, and bring my own water in a small water bottle. Alhamdulillah that is working better.
Alhamdullillah my class was really good today. We studied about how to read "jareedatun arabeeyatun" (an arabic newspaper). The thing I love about Arabic is how everything is related. No word is isolated, like in English. The way you can convert a three letter word, like k a t a b a, into a million different words with so many different meanings is amazing. And all you need to know is the root, and you have the key.
My teacher drew a tree along with its roots. "The roots," he said in Arabic, "is called al-jizr. It is usually only three letter. When you look at the qamus, you search for the word using its jizr, not the actual word. The branches of this are the mustaqqat. By knowing the roots, you can figure out every mustaqqat by knowing the wazn or the balance." I wrote this at the risk of sounding pompous because I want 1.) to make it clear to myself, 2.) to try to convey the fact that it was not mistake that the Qur'an is in Arabic.
I am learning in Egypt that there is no such thing as a coincidence.
Ma'a salaam,
~Ameer
The Longest (Or Shortest Week)
Whew. I never thought that so much could happen in one week. Anyways, going to be posting up some pictures.
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Bikya, Bikya
Assalam u alaikum,
Alhamdulillah, my classes were good today. Today I was very disgusted with myself during classes because I was making the same mistakes again and again. Mustafa calmed me down a bit. I realized that there is no point in beating up on myself; I should simply study what I'm having trouble with. Insha'allah I will do that in the future.
At almost any time during the day one can hear the call of Bikya, biiiiikya! A man, riding a strange bicycle with a huge box attached to the front, attempts to sell second-hand items to all and sundry on the street. I am not sure what new things are left in Cairo, since there are so many people selling second-hand things. My teacher and I always have a big laugh when we hear someone yelling bikya! outside our class.
Insha'allah tomorrow we will get a load of laundry done and other various tasks we have not been able to do. No escape from homework, however. I have class on Saturday insha'allah, although it's slightly earlier than the normal class time: it starts at one 'oclock insha'allah.
Everything is good, and I'll talk to you all again tomorrow insha'allah.
Oh and one other thing. Farooq, if you happen to read this, your teacher Mohammed Aly sends his salam to you and says, "Ihubu an Isma'a sawtak."
Ma'a salam
~Ameer
Alhamdulillah, my classes were good today. Today I was very disgusted with myself during classes because I was making the same mistakes again and again. Mustafa calmed me down a bit. I realized that there is no point in beating up on myself; I should simply study what I'm having trouble with. Insha'allah I will do that in the future.
At almost any time during the day one can hear the call of Bikya, biiiiikya! A man, riding a strange bicycle with a huge box attached to the front, attempts to sell second-hand items to all and sundry on the street. I am not sure what new things are left in Cairo, since there are so many people selling second-hand things. My teacher and I always have a big laugh when we hear someone yelling bikya! outside our class.
Insha'allah tomorrow we will get a load of laundry done and other various tasks we have not been able to do. No escape from homework, however. I have class on Saturday insha'allah, although it's slightly earlier than the normal class time: it starts at one 'oclock insha'allah.
Everything is good, and I'll talk to you all again tomorrow insha'allah.
Oh and one other thing. Farooq, if you happen to read this, your teacher Mohammed Aly sends his salam to you and says, "Ihubu an Isma'a sawtak."
Ma'a salam
~Ameer
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
The Universe on the surface of an emerald
Bismillah,
Interestingly enough, one of the advices that I remember most from Canada was from Uncle Imran, someone I wasn't exactly thinking I would remember. He commented that the word for dictionary is Qamus, or Ocean. He's precicely right. The depth is amazing. For example, when doing plural in Arabi, you cannot just add -s onto the end. Each word has a different plural, so we must learn all of them. When one considers that there are a million billion words to learn, this becomes overwhelming.
Today we set out on a quest for the clothes line. For the last week, we had driven ourselves crazy trying to dry our towels (in our bathroom, for some inextricably wise reason, there is no shower door or curtain, so the floors are always soaked by the end of a shower). We hung them on the chairs and ruined the chairs. We hung them on the railing balcony; this was a disaster as they fell onto the still dirt covered ground. Finally, we caught on that the clotheslines were outside the windows. We quickly purged our house, opening every window until we finally found it. Alhamdullilah.
Anyways, I'll be posting some pics. Make dua
Wasalam
Kittens and Clotheslines
Assalam u alaikum,
I love watching the kittens near our apartment building. There's a little patch of ground behind the "Hookah Station" that has a few bushes and a lot of garbage. Four small kittens play there every day in the morning, while their mother basks in the warm Cairo sun. It's amazing to see how they sharpen all their necessary survival skills through their play. One small gray kitten stalks the orange-and-white striped kitten, and suddenly pounces. They have a funny way of playing ferociously and then suddenly stopping completely, like those old stop-motion films. Today they weren't in the square at their usual time. I wonder what happened?
We also managed to use our clothesline for the first time today. As usual, a simple operation like putting a towel on the clothesline became a tricky manouvre involving much observation of other Egyptians sticking their heads out of their windows. We realized that we need to fold the towel and place it over the clothesline, not just attach it with the closepins. This is important because we are eight stories up and if the towel falls, we will probably never get it back. When the towel was dry, it had the most delicious smell, as if we had put it in the dryer with a Bounce dryer sheet.
Alhamdulillah class was good today. I was really tired, however, by the end of it because I didn't go to sleep in the afternoon because I was worried about being late. Insha'allah I will try to go to sleep at around ten tomorrow and then wake up at Dhuhr time insha'allah.
The youth here have a funny dynamics. First of all, there are always a bunch of fatan and fatayat hanging around on Makram Abeed. Mustafa and I tried to figure out if they are just there for lunch, but they're there at all times (except in the morning, for obvious reasons-it's too much for their tired bodies). The group system is rather funny as well. There are three or four boys clustered together smoking cigarettes. One of them is always a big fat guy with glasses who continually tries to assert his dominance by walking one of the others on the head, pulling the other guy's cigarette out of his mouth, laughing at him, or just generally screaming. This performance is for the gaggle of girls, who despite their hijabs, are not quite what we would call modest. It is scary.
:)
Alhamdulillah, everything is good. The landlord came today to show us how to use the washing machine, but ended up reading the instruction manual. We decided it would be best if he simply left the book with us instead of him trying to operate the machine by cross-referencing the English section of the book with the Arabic section: "Fill the try will soap?" The landlord's name is Khalil Mahmoud, and he is a really nice man. "You know, if you give to someone address, say you are behind the famous Caltex petrol station and famous Zamzam pharmacy." (which turns out to be a small shabby store).
How can a gas station be famous anyways?
Alhamdullillah ala kuli hal.
Today our lesson was about going to the meat store and grocery store. We talk about many things during our class, including our favourite foods, the availability of liver in Canada, and the beauty of bilad ul kanada.
Ma' asalam,
~Ameer
I love watching the kittens near our apartment building. There's a little patch of ground behind the "Hookah Station" that has a few bushes and a lot of garbage. Four small kittens play there every day in the morning, while their mother basks in the warm Cairo sun. It's amazing to see how they sharpen all their necessary survival skills through their play. One small gray kitten stalks the orange-and-white striped kitten, and suddenly pounces. They have a funny way of playing ferociously and then suddenly stopping completely, like those old stop-motion films. Today they weren't in the square at their usual time. I wonder what happened?
We also managed to use our clothesline for the first time today. As usual, a simple operation like putting a towel on the clothesline became a tricky manouvre involving much observation of other Egyptians sticking their heads out of their windows. We realized that we need to fold the towel and place it over the clothesline, not just attach it with the closepins. This is important because we are eight stories up and if the towel falls, we will probably never get it back. When the towel was dry, it had the most delicious smell, as if we had put it in the dryer with a Bounce dryer sheet.
Alhamdulillah class was good today. I was really tired, however, by the end of it because I didn't go to sleep in the afternoon because I was worried about being late. Insha'allah I will try to go to sleep at around ten tomorrow and then wake up at Dhuhr time insha'allah.
The youth here have a funny dynamics. First of all, there are always a bunch of fatan and fatayat hanging around on Makram Abeed. Mustafa and I tried to figure out if they are just there for lunch, but they're there at all times (except in the morning, for obvious reasons-it's too much for their tired bodies). The group system is rather funny as well. There are three or four boys clustered together smoking cigarettes. One of them is always a big fat guy with glasses who continually tries to assert his dominance by walking one of the others on the head, pulling the other guy's cigarette out of his mouth, laughing at him, or just generally screaming. This performance is for the gaggle of girls, who despite their hijabs, are not quite what we would call modest. It is scary.
:)
Alhamdulillah, everything is good. The landlord came today to show us how to use the washing machine, but ended up reading the instruction manual. We decided it would be best if he simply left the book with us instead of him trying to operate the machine by cross-referencing the English section of the book with the Arabic section: "Fill the try will soap?" The landlord's name is Khalil Mahmoud, and he is a really nice man. "You know, if you give to someone address, say you are behind the famous Caltex petrol station and famous Zamzam pharmacy." (which turns out to be a small shabby store).
How can a gas station be famous anyways?
Alhamdullillah ala kuli hal.
Today our lesson was about going to the meat store and grocery store. We talk about many things during our class, including our favourite foods, the availability of liver in Canada, and the beauty of bilad ul kanada.
Ma' asalam,
~Ameer
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Pronouns, Hotels, and Brooms.
Guilty by Pablo Nerrrruda (trill the rrrs for Sauleha's benifit)
I declare myself guilty of not having
made, with these hands they gave me,
a broom.
Why didn't I make a broom?
Why did they give me hands?
What use have they been
if all I ever did was
watch the stir of the grain,
listen up for the wind
and did not gather straws
still green in the earth
for a broom,
not set the soft stalks to dry
and bind them
in a gold bundle,
and did not lash a wooden stick
to the yellow skirt
till I had a broom for the paths?
So it goes.
The poem that I had a hundred million times during the Kiwanis Festival last year came back with stunning force today. The floor of our apartment, already covered with dust, was being layered with a fine layer of gingersnap crumbs, pepsi straws, dirt, dust, and some more dirst. It would have made Tasneem pick up a jaru. (For those readers who do not know about Queen Tasneem, suffice it to say that she was a ten year old cleaning maid in Pakistan who managed to drive an entire household crazy.) Anyways, Ameer and I decided that this was a little too much. While he was at class, I walked over to Sirag Mall (actually Siraj Mall, but they can't say j (dz)and they have no clue what I talk about if I ask directions to Siraj Mall, so I will suffice to the inevitable and call it Sirag Mall. Thus, I will also use this moment of submission to Ameeah to say salam to Khaltu Suad, Aubyii, Uncle Rekieh, and Asim:).
At Sirag Mall, I picked up two bottles of Dasani water, 10 eggs (what happened to a dozen in Cairo? They have 8, 10, and 20. No 12! Forget about baker's dozen!), and a broom. At that moment, I realized something important. How on Earth am I going to walk down the street of Cairo with two bottles of water, ten eggs, and a broom. Luckily, the clerk there, a nice man by the name of Khalid, took it off my hands. Ever since he heard that I have come (forgive all grammar mistakes. I spend 5 hours a day breaking down all my grammar rules. Do you know that in Arabic, you can have a sentence without a fi'l? Major brain freeze, even for a guy who never studied grammar.)
"Brother, if you walk down the streets like that, you will get robbbbered. You don't know how Cairo is, brother. Welcome to Cairo, brother."
Without more ado, he picked up the broom himself and took it and everything else to the apartment. He tried to refuse a tip, highly untypical here in Cairo. Many Cairenes have a passion for baksheesh and...
~Mustafa
(Assalam u alaikum. Mustafa had to go because Ammi was online and she wanted to see his face. I don't have much to add. My lesson today was about vegetables and fruit, but I don't think it will help me much because I am certainly not about to buy Lady fingers or asparagus or cabbage. My teacher was in full form today. He has a very subtle sense of humour that is accentuated by his delicate Arabic. I am very ashamed, however, at the number of simple mistakes that I make. You'd think that I'd learn, but no...well, as Ustadh Ibrahim says, "Shay'un shay'a" bit by bittt!
~Ameer )
I declare myself guilty of not having
made, with these hands they gave me,
a broom.
Why didn't I make a broom?
Why did they give me hands?
What use have they been
if all I ever did was
watch the stir of the grain,
listen up for the wind
and did not gather straws
still green in the earth
for a broom,
not set the soft stalks to dry
and bind them
in a gold bundle,
and did not lash a wooden stick
to the yellow skirt
till I had a broom for the paths?
So it goes.
The poem that I had a hundred million times during the Kiwanis Festival last year came back with stunning force today. The floor of our apartment, already covered with dust, was being layered with a fine layer of gingersnap crumbs, pepsi straws, dirt, dust, and some more dirst. It would have made Tasneem pick up a jaru. (For those readers who do not know about Queen Tasneem, suffice it to say that she was a ten year old cleaning maid in Pakistan who managed to drive an entire household crazy.) Anyways, Ameer and I decided that this was a little too much. While he was at class, I walked over to Sirag Mall (actually Siraj Mall, but they can't say j (dz)and they have no clue what I talk about if I ask directions to Siraj Mall, so I will suffice to the inevitable and call it Sirag Mall. Thus, I will also use this moment of submission to Ameeah to say salam to Khaltu Suad, Aubyii, Uncle Rekieh, and Asim:).
At Sirag Mall, I picked up two bottles of Dasani water, 10 eggs (what happened to a dozen in Cairo? They have 8, 10, and 20. No 12! Forget about baker's dozen!), and a broom. At that moment, I realized something important. How on Earth am I going to walk down the street of Cairo with two bottles of water, ten eggs, and a broom. Luckily, the clerk there, a nice man by the name of Khalid, took it off my hands. Ever since he heard that I have come (forgive all grammar mistakes. I spend 5 hours a day breaking down all my grammar rules. Do you know that in Arabic, you can have a sentence without a fi'l? Major brain freeze, even for a guy who never studied grammar.)
"Brother, if you walk down the streets like that, you will get robbbbered. You don't know how Cairo is, brother. Welcome to Cairo, brother."
Without more ado, he picked up the broom himself and took it and everything else to the apartment. He tried to refuse a tip, highly untypical here in Cairo. Many Cairenes have a passion for baksheesh and...
~Mustafa
(Assalam u alaikum. Mustafa had to go because Ammi was online and she wanted to see his face. I don't have much to add. My lesson today was about vegetables and fruit, but I don't think it will help me much because I am certainly not about to buy Lady fingers or asparagus or cabbage. My teacher was in full form today. He has a very subtle sense of humour that is accentuated by his delicate Arabic. I am very ashamed, however, at the number of simple mistakes that I make. You'd think that I'd learn, but no...well, as Ustadh Ibrahim says, "Shay'un shay'a" bit by bittt!
~Ameer )
Monday, February 19, 2007
Reality
Assalam u alaikum wa rahmatullah wa barakatuhu,
I was going to set the title for my post yesterday as "And Now Reality Sets In" but today that makes things sound really pessimistic. Alhamdulillah "reality" was very good today. Today I was alhamdulillah much quicker at remembering words and rules and understanding what the teacher was saying. (Writing in English feels funny. Please forgive me if my grammar slips a little; I am in a place neither wholly English or Arab.) Today our lesson was about "Maktab al-Barqiyah wal maktab al hatif" which is the telegram office and the "phone" office (like the Centralis that we called you from before). We also did the lesson about time and how to write the time from the clock as well as the months of the year and the seasons. I really get mixed up with the genders when I'm doing numbers because for example, when you have a number between 3 and 10, you use the opposite gender form for the word. For example, thalata ashhur instead of thalath ashur even though shahr is masculine. I hope I don't sound like I'm trying to impress anyone with my Arabic (Abdullah, Khadija, Sauleha, did you hear that?!) but I am just trying to give you an idea of what I'm learning.
My teacher is incredible. He is more my friend now than a teacher. Everyday he commutes for an hour and a half on a bus to get al-Diwan and teaches all day, from eight o'clock in the morning till seven-thirty at night. That's his schedule everyday except Friday.
In appearance, he is pretty fit, without any excess fat or paunch. He has a reddish beard that is not very long. His skin is light-coloured and he reminds me a lot of Zachariah al-Khatib in terms of mannerisms and the way he gestures with his eyes and eyebrows. Insha'allah I'll try to get a picture of him and send it to you if we can find the time to get a firewire.
I think we know need to start cooking ourselves. We could eat Tomatoes three times a day for four months, but I don't know if that is efficient or healthy. Insha'allah on Friday Mustafa and I will get some meat and rice and tomatoes and try to make some salan. (oh boy.)
Mohammed el-Ramly called today.
What else is there to say? There was a fog over Cairo this morning. Cairo is most beautiful in the morning. There aren't any smooth-looking youth smoking cigarettes or honking cars, nor is there the stinking smell of cigarettes or sheesha (I think its called sheesha here, not hookah. I'm not sure about that, though). You can feel the ancient-ness of Egypt emanating from the ground, as if the city had existed for eons. I realized that I know nothing; I have seen nothing; I have done nothing. There is so much of the world that I have not seen or even dreamed of.
(That's supposed to be optimistic.)
(I think.)
Ma 'asalam,
~Ameer
I was going to set the title for my post yesterday as "And Now Reality Sets In" but today that makes things sound really pessimistic. Alhamdulillah "reality" was very good today. Today I was alhamdulillah much quicker at remembering words and rules and understanding what the teacher was saying. (Writing in English feels funny. Please forgive me if my grammar slips a little; I am in a place neither wholly English or Arab.) Today our lesson was about "Maktab al-Barqiyah wal maktab al hatif" which is the telegram office and the "phone" office (like the Centralis that we called you from before). We also did the lesson about time and how to write the time from the clock as well as the months of the year and the seasons. I really get mixed up with the genders when I'm doing numbers because for example, when you have a number between 3 and 10, you use the opposite gender form for the word. For example, thalata ashhur instead of thalath ashur even though shahr is masculine. I hope I don't sound like I'm trying to impress anyone with my Arabic (Abdullah, Khadija, Sauleha, did you hear that?!) but I am just trying to give you an idea of what I'm learning.
My teacher is incredible. He is more my friend now than a teacher. Everyday he commutes for an hour and a half on a bus to get al-Diwan and teaches all day, from eight o'clock in the morning till seven-thirty at night. That's his schedule everyday except Friday.
In appearance, he is pretty fit, without any excess fat or paunch. He has a reddish beard that is not very long. His skin is light-coloured and he reminds me a lot of Zachariah al-Khatib in terms of mannerisms and the way he gestures with his eyes and eyebrows. Insha'allah I'll try to get a picture of him and send it to you if we can find the time to get a firewire.
I think we know need to start cooking ourselves. We could eat Tomatoes three times a day for four months, but I don't know if that is efficient or healthy. Insha'allah on Friday Mustafa and I will get some meat and rice and tomatoes and try to make some salan. (oh boy.)
Mohammed el-Ramly called today.
What else is there to say? There was a fog over Cairo this morning. Cairo is most beautiful in the morning. There aren't any smooth-looking youth smoking cigarettes or honking cars, nor is there the stinking smell of cigarettes or sheesha (I think its called sheesha here, not hookah. I'm not sure about that, though). You can feel the ancient-ness of Egypt emanating from the ground, as if the city had existed for eons. I realized that I know nothing; I have seen nothing; I have done nothing. There is so much of the world that I have not seen or even dreamed of.
(That's supposed to be optimistic.)
(I think.)
Ma 'asalam,
~Ameer
Damir and Other Persons
Bismillah,
Today, alhamdullilah, was much better than yesterday. Saying that may be termed as relative, but for me the important thing is that there was an improvement. If everyday we can try harder and harder to be better and better, we will stay the same (Master Ho wisdom). If you put in your best, then you will improve. Inshallah, I am working towards putting in my best.
Ustadh Majid is my teacher, and a very interesting man. He is the classical teacher at the end of the road; eagle faced, who barely cracks a smile. In that way he reminds me of Sheikh Jihad; unsmiling to the point of severity. But when he smiles, he smiles with his whole face to show that he is actually happy.
In today's class, we went over the second lesson (Al Matar, the Airport), studied Damir (Ana, Nahnu, ect) and ended with learning Rakam (Numbers). Alhamdullilah
Wasalam,
Mustafa
Today, alhamdullilah, was much better than yesterday. Saying that may be termed as relative, but for me the important thing is that there was an improvement. If everyday we can try harder and harder to be better and better, we will stay the same (Master Ho wisdom). If you put in your best, then you will improve. Inshallah, I am working towards putting in my best.
Ustadh Majid is my teacher, and a very interesting man. He is the classical teacher at the end of the road; eagle faced, who barely cracks a smile. In that way he reminds me of Sheikh Jihad; unsmiling to the point of severity. But when he smiles, he smiles with his whole face to show that he is actually happy.
In today's class, we went over the second lesson (Al Matar, the Airport), studied Damir (Ana, Nahnu, ect) and ended with learning Rakam (Numbers). Alhamdullilah
Wasalam,
Mustafa
Saturday, February 17, 2007
First Day of Classes
Assalam u alaikum,
Alhamdulillah our classes were really good today, although I never realized that you could do so much Arabic in one day. My teacher is really nice. He never talks in English. Everything he has to explain to me he either acts out, draws, or draws comparisons. I feel like it's passing into my head like water.
It's funny how closely we can relate to the people in Cairo even though we have nothing in common. We had a long conversation today with the guy at Tomatoes. He was talking on and on about how we should listen to Qur'an not music. I gave him a tip.
It's hard to write on the blog and talk on MSN at the same time, but we thought that you would enjoy reading some permanent comments, not just instant messaging.
Ma asalam
~Ameer
Alhamdulillah our classes were really good today, although I never realized that you could do so much Arabic in one day. My teacher is really nice. He never talks in English. Everything he has to explain to me he either acts out, draws, or draws comparisons. I feel like it's passing into my head like water.
It's funny how closely we can relate to the people in Cairo even though we have nothing in common. We had a long conversation today with the guy at Tomatoes. He was talking on and on about how we should listen to Qur'an not music. I gave him a tip.
It's hard to write on the blog and talk on MSN at the same time, but we thought that you would enjoy reading some permanent comments, not just instant messaging.
Ma asalam
~Ameer
Hookah: The Scourge of the Earth
Assalam u alaikum
Bismillah
Beside our apartment is the greatest scourge that ever existed, after Toad's recent attempt at world domination. Beside our apartment is what we call the "hookah station". Hookah ranks on the worst world smells. It would make a skunk pass out. Unlike cigarrete smell, which is naturally bad, hookah has a sweet, horrible, smell from another world.
Anyways, today was the first day of class. Traditional to Mustafa Style, I forgot my Ustad's name. I will get back to you later with it. Anyhow, our class was amazing.
Bismillah
Beside our apartment is the greatest scourge that ever existed, after Toad's recent attempt at world domination. Beside our apartment is what we call the "hookah station". Hookah ranks on the worst world smells. It would make a skunk pass out. Unlike cigarrete smell, which is naturally bad, hookah has a sweet, horrible, smell from another world.
Anyways, today was the first day of class. Traditional to Mustafa Style, I forgot my Ustad's name. I will get back to you later with it. Anyhow, our class was amazing.
Friday, February 16, 2007
Love at First Bite
Bismillah Assalam u alaikum wa rahmatullahi wa barakatu,
I was going to write about Thursday (the day after we got here) but that would fill up an entire story book. In short, we went to Al Diwan with an unscrupulous taxi driver (abdullah, think: unscrupulous fish dealer, only much,much worse and can only speak Arabic and also factor in a green looking Ameer Canadian), took our placement exam (in Mustafa's case, his write-my-address-on-the-front-I-can't-do-this-exam), met the real estate agent, and got our shaqqah (flat). Alhamdulillah, and alhamdulillah again. On Thursday we were so hungry that we went to the store beside our apartment and bought aish and literally ate the bread just like that. It was so good. I'll never view eating the same way again.
Mustafa is insisting that I tell you that they placed me in Level 3. Mustafa says he's in Level Minus one.
Today was Jumuah. The night before we had unpacked everything so as soon as we woke up we put on our Youth Council sweaters and jubbas and walked, as cool as campus cool cats, to the masjid and prayed Fajr salah. There are millions of masjids and there is a masjid about two minutes away from us if you go straight through the cat melee and hookah center. The imam is very good alhamdulillah, with the trademark deep, golden Egyptian voice.
We read Qur'an and ate breakfast.
At Jum'ah time we went to the masjid and sat in the courtyard. They had laid a kind of funny green carpet on the stones and even on the road, just like in Pakistan. I sat drowsily and tried to decipher the khutbah, something surprisingly very similar to khutbahs in Canada: we must protect our women and youth from bad things, our country is going to the dogs, etc. etc.
On that note, we noticed a lot of differences between Pakistan and Egypt. In Pakistan, mostly men are on the streets and they almost all are wearing shalwar kameez. In Egypt, there are almost as many women and men, and most of the men wear western-style clothing. Almost all the women wear hijab, not a dupatta like in Pakistan (well obviously).
After Jumuah we had a slight problem when we went to retrieve our shoes from the shoekeeper we had left them with. We thought that since we were in the masjid, he wouldn't charge us anything but nothing worthwhile in life is ever free, especially not Cairo. Then the second problem was that I only had a twenty-pound note, which was way too much. Anyways he gave us the change and it was okay. I am able to usually make people understand what I want, the only problem is, I can never understand what they want. This sometimes leads to hilarious conversations of head wagging and finger waving, and numerous smiles.
We then went back to the apartment to get "The Guide" from Markaz al Diwan. The plan was to go to the bank and get some of American dollars exchanged into guineas, and also look for a restaurant they had in "The Guide" called Mr. Cook (don't ask me how we chose Mr. Cook, we just did) as well as confirm the route from our aparment to Al Diwan. So off we went.
First of all, the map in the little paper guide from Al Diwan was not exactly drawn to scale. As Mustafa said, "It prevented us from leaving Nasr City-just barely." We walked and walked and walked, trying to get from our apartment to Al Diwan and then to Mr. Cook. We finally found Al Diwan after crossing through an alley of small grubby little boys playing soccer. There is so much to tell and I am running out of time, so forgive me if there are some gaps in narration.
We found Al Diwan and were coming back when we saw a restaurant called Tomatoes. Up to this point Mr. Cook was nowhere in site so we decided to take a chance. Mustafa sacrificed his aversion to anything that said "Italian restaurant" on the front. We went in and it was "Love at first bite." The sub was filled with meat and cheese and uuuuuuhjhhhh yumm. Alhamdulillah.
All right I have to go now. Insha'allah we will come again tomorrow.
Assalam u alaikum,
~Ameer
I was going to write about Thursday (the day after we got here) but that would fill up an entire story book. In short, we went to Al Diwan with an unscrupulous taxi driver (abdullah, think: unscrupulous fish dealer, only much,much worse and can only speak Arabic and also factor in a green looking Ameer Canadian), took our placement exam (in Mustafa's case, his write-my-address-on-the-front-I-can't-do-this-exam), met the real estate agent, and got our shaqqah (flat). Alhamdulillah, and alhamdulillah again. On Thursday we were so hungry that we went to the store beside our apartment and bought aish and literally ate the bread just like that. It was so good. I'll never view eating the same way again.
Mustafa is insisting that I tell you that they placed me in Level 3. Mustafa says he's in Level Minus one.
Today was Jumuah. The night before we had unpacked everything so as soon as we woke up we put on our Youth Council sweaters and jubbas and walked, as cool as campus cool cats, to the masjid and prayed Fajr salah. There are millions of masjids and there is a masjid about two minutes away from us if you go straight through the cat melee and hookah center. The imam is very good alhamdulillah, with the trademark deep, golden Egyptian voice.
We read Qur'an and ate breakfast.
At Jum'ah time we went to the masjid and sat in the courtyard. They had laid a kind of funny green carpet on the stones and even on the road, just like in Pakistan. I sat drowsily and tried to decipher the khutbah, something surprisingly very similar to khutbahs in Canada: we must protect our women and youth from bad things, our country is going to the dogs, etc. etc.
On that note, we noticed a lot of differences between Pakistan and Egypt. In Pakistan, mostly men are on the streets and they almost all are wearing shalwar kameez. In Egypt, there are almost as many women and men, and most of the men wear western-style clothing. Almost all the women wear hijab, not a dupatta like in Pakistan (well obviously).
After Jumuah we had a slight problem when we went to retrieve our shoes from the shoekeeper we had left them with. We thought that since we were in the masjid, he wouldn't charge us anything but nothing worthwhile in life is ever free, especially not Cairo. Then the second problem was that I only had a twenty-pound note, which was way too much. Anyways he gave us the change and it was okay. I am able to usually make people understand what I want, the only problem is, I can never understand what they want. This sometimes leads to hilarious conversations of head wagging and finger waving, and numerous smiles.
We then went back to the apartment to get "The Guide" from Markaz al Diwan. The plan was to go to the bank and get some of American dollars exchanged into guineas, and also look for a restaurant they had in "The Guide" called Mr. Cook (don't ask me how we chose Mr. Cook, we just did) as well as confirm the route from our aparment to Al Diwan. So off we went.
First of all, the map in the little paper guide from Al Diwan was not exactly drawn to scale. As Mustafa said, "It prevented us from leaving Nasr City-just barely." We walked and walked and walked, trying to get from our apartment to Al Diwan and then to Mr. Cook. We finally found Al Diwan after crossing through an alley of small grubby little boys playing soccer. There is so much to tell and I am running out of time, so forgive me if there are some gaps in narration.
We found Al Diwan and were coming back when we saw a restaurant called Tomatoes. Up to this point Mr. Cook was nowhere in site so we decided to take a chance. Mustafa sacrificed his aversion to anything that said "Italian restaurant" on the front. We went in and it was "Love at first bite." The sub was filled with meat and cheese and uuuuuuhjhhhh yumm. Alhamdulillah.
All right I have to go now. Insha'allah we will come again tomorrow.
Assalam u alaikum,
~Ameer
Cairo Airport
Bismillah
We arrived in Cairo on British Airways, which I must say was one of the best flights I've ever flown on. As we looked out the window, we saw Al Kahira- Cairo, the Conquerer. The bright lights glittered invitingly.
The airport reminded me alot of Karachi airport, but with fluorescent lights. Instead of the Karachi burning-garbage smell, it had an irritating, spicy smell( we have no clue what it was). Going through immigration was easy, alhamdullilah. It was after immigration that the trouble started.
As we left immigration, we came to the last checkout of guards. Infront of the guards, a large, owl spectacled man with a black suit, and red tie began to quickly ask a surge of questions.
"Who are you?"
"Ameer Farooq, and my brother,"(Ameer was talking to all airport people).
"Who are you?"
"Uhhh... Ameer Farooq."
"I see, I see....where are you staying?"
Ameer was starting to get panicked, "We're actually not exactly sure. We still have to find a hotel."
At this oportune moment, a sly faced guard, barely twenty, starting clicking ominously.
"Ttttttutut..."
"Is there someone waiting for you?"
"Tttttutut..."
"Yes. We do..."
"How long are you staying."
"Tttttutut..."
"3 months."
"How long?"
"Ttttutt"
"3 months."
"Ah,"said the man, looking at us hard,"2-3 weeks?"
"No! 3 months!" exclaimed Ameer. At this moment, the guard fell over in a heap of laughter.
"Do you have someone waiting?"
"Yes!"
"Okay, good. Enjoy. Welcome."
Alhamdullilah, baggage was easy to find. The man from AlDiwan, true to that email we recieved, did not speak a word of Englisheya. Luckily, we were able to give him a general indication that we were from Canada.
They dropped us off at the street Abbas Al Akkad at the Dar-AlKashfi Hotel. Farooq bhai had told us, "It's not like the Sheraton", which puts him in the competition for big understatments of the year. Since we did not pay them immediately, they took our passports for security. While Ameer understood what was going on, I was sure that it was all up. No passports, it was 1:00 in the morning, the non-English speaking person from Al Diwan left, and they took us to a room in an elevator you could fall out of (think 1930's). The room, alhamdullilah, was not too bad, and the gingersnaps saved our life...
Okay, Ameer wants to write about the next day in Cairo.
-Mustafa
We arrived in Cairo on British Airways, which I must say was one of the best flights I've ever flown on. As we looked out the window, we saw Al Kahira- Cairo, the Conquerer. The bright lights glittered invitingly.
The airport reminded me alot of Karachi airport, but with fluorescent lights. Instead of the Karachi burning-garbage smell, it had an irritating, spicy smell( we have no clue what it was). Going through immigration was easy, alhamdullilah. It was after immigration that the trouble started.
As we left immigration, we came to the last checkout of guards. Infront of the guards, a large, owl spectacled man with a black suit, and red tie began to quickly ask a surge of questions.
"Who are you?"
"Ameer Farooq, and my brother,"(Ameer was talking to all airport people).
"Who are you?"
"Uhhh... Ameer Farooq."
"I see, I see....where are you staying?"
Ameer was starting to get panicked, "We're actually not exactly sure. We still have to find a hotel."
At this oportune moment, a sly faced guard, barely twenty, starting clicking ominously.
"Ttttttutut..."
"Is there someone waiting for you?"
"Tttttutut..."
"Yes. We do..."
"How long are you staying."
"Tttttutut..."
"3 months."
"How long?"
"Ttttutt"
"3 months."
"Ah,"said the man, looking at us hard,"2-3 weeks?"
"No! 3 months!" exclaimed Ameer. At this moment, the guard fell over in a heap of laughter.
"Do you have someone waiting?"
"Yes!"
"Okay, good. Enjoy. Welcome."
Alhamdullilah, baggage was easy to find. The man from AlDiwan, true to that email we recieved, did not speak a word of Englisheya. Luckily, we were able to give him a general indication that we were from Canada.
They dropped us off at the street Abbas Al Akkad at the Dar-AlKashfi Hotel. Farooq bhai had told us, "It's not like the Sheraton", which puts him in the competition for big understatments of the year. Since we did not pay them immediately, they took our passports for security. While Ameer understood what was going on, I was sure that it was all up. No passports, it was 1:00 in the morning, the non-English speaking person from Al Diwan left, and they took us to a room in an elevator you could fall out of (think 1930's). The room, alhamdullilah, was not too bad, and the gingersnaps saved our life...
Okay, Ameer wants to write about the next day in Cairo.
-Mustafa
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
London
Bismillah.
Ameer bhai has often said the driving a car is the gateway into Adult-land. I mean, once you start driving, you see things differently. The first time driving, you even forget how to get home. I found that flying is similar to that. No matter how many times we have done it with Ami and Abu, this felt totally alien. I guess both Ami and Abu did more than we gave credit for.
Alhamdullilah, the trip was mostly uneventful. I slept most of the way on there. Thanks to Rohinton Mistry for ruining my optimistic feelings. The way A Fine Balance is written, you'd think that Family Matters and Macbeth are slapstick comedies. Ameer read the alchemist, and kept on quoting sayings like, 'Follow your omens.' 'Something that happens once never happens again; something that happens twice must happen a third.'
Inshallah, I can't wait to get to Cairo, but I'm already missing you guys alot. I especially miss Abdullah (Ameer and I both looked away when we saw a Ferrari on display in Heathrow, although we think we saw a Smart Car on the way to the airport, which makes the score 1-1). I miss Sauleha (I wish we had her organizing all of our stuff) and I can't say I really miss Khadija's heavy hand. I love Ami and Abu with all my heart.
Wasalam.
Ameer bhai has often said the driving a car is the gateway into Adult-land. I mean, once you start driving, you see things differently. The first time driving, you even forget how to get home. I found that flying is similar to that. No matter how many times we have done it with Ami and Abu, this felt totally alien. I guess both Ami and Abu did more than we gave credit for.
Alhamdullilah, the trip was mostly uneventful. I slept most of the way on there. Thanks to Rohinton Mistry for ruining my optimistic feelings. The way A Fine Balance is written, you'd think that Family Matters and Macbeth are slapstick comedies. Ameer read the alchemist, and kept on quoting sayings like, 'Follow your omens.' 'Something that happens once never happens again; something that happens twice must happen a third.'
Inshallah, I can't wait to get to Cairo, but I'm already missing you guys alot. I especially miss Abdullah (Ameer and I both looked away when we saw a Ferrari on display in Heathrow, although we think we saw a Smart Car on the way to the airport, which makes the score 1-1). I miss Sauleha (I wish we had her organizing all of our stuff) and I can't say I really miss Khadija's heavy hand. I love Ami and Abu with all my heart.
Wasalam.
London, Heathrow
Assalam u alaikum Ammi, Abu, Khadija, Abdullah, Sauleha, Nana, Khala, and everyone in Edmonton,
Alhamdulillah we are sitting Terminal 4 right now of London Heathrow. The great thing about travelling is that it really reminds you how dependent you are on Allah and how you really don't have that much control over anything. As I was sitting on the bus taking us from Terminal 3 to Terminal 4, I realized that this guy could be taking us absolutely anywhere and we would have no ability to figure that out or to stop him. That's when you just have to do tawakkul and leave off the worrying.
Alhamdulillah we haven't had any problems so far apart from a surly lady in Edmonton who was checking our boarding passes. When it took me a few seconds to get the boarding passes out of my pouch (which is highly annoying I'm never taking it again) I had to get out both Mustafa and my passport and boarding passes. She says, 'He's a big boy, he can do it himself.' We both just grinned and put the boarding passes back into the pouch. By the way the poach is not that bad it's just a little cumbersome to get stuff out of. : D
We tried to help the Uncle who was with us as much as possible but we had to split up when we had to transfer over to Terminal 4. It was neat to be able to help someone when we ourselves were only doing this for the first time.
Other than that alhamdulillah we are doing really well and excited to go to Cairo. Insha'allah made du'a for us because it it working tremendously well.
~Ameer Omar
Alhamdulillah we are sitting Terminal 4 right now of London Heathrow. The great thing about travelling is that it really reminds you how dependent you are on Allah and how you really don't have that much control over anything. As I was sitting on the bus taking us from Terminal 3 to Terminal 4, I realized that this guy could be taking us absolutely anywhere and we would have no ability to figure that out or to stop him. That's when you just have to do tawakkul and leave off the worrying.
Alhamdulillah we haven't had any problems so far apart from a surly lady in Edmonton who was checking our boarding passes. When it took me a few seconds to get the boarding passes out of my pouch (which is highly annoying I'm never taking it again) I had to get out both Mustafa and my passport and boarding passes. She says, 'He's a big boy, he can do it himself.' We both just grinned and put the boarding passes back into the pouch. By the way the poach is not that bad it's just a little cumbersome to get stuff out of. : D
We tried to help the Uncle who was with us as much as possible but we had to split up when we had to transfer over to Terminal 4. It was neat to be able to help someone when we ourselves were only doing this for the first time.
Other than that alhamdulillah we are doing really well and excited to go to Cairo. Insha'allah made du'a for us because it it working tremendously well.
~Ameer Omar
Monday, February 12, 2007
Day Before
Assalam u alaikum everyone,
We are sitting here at our computer on Monday, February 12, 2007. We're in the midst of getting ready to go to Egypt and things seem a little funny right now. I can't really think of anything so, listen to this:
Life is short, so we must move very slowly.
-Thai Proverb
We are sitting here at our computer on Monday, February 12, 2007. We're in the midst of getting ready to go to Egypt and things seem a little funny right now. I can't really think of anything so, listen to this:
Life is short, so we must move very slowly.
-Thai Proverb
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