The Red Stuff From Outer Space

I got the bawwab to clean the apartment and I found this strange stuff when we lifted up the carpets. I seriously hope I'm not about to morph into "Arabicman" or something like that.

Qasem Amin

Assalam u alaikum,

Qasim Amin is the only television series that I have ever really followed closely. It's interesting because it gives me an insight into Egytian history that I don't think I could have got any other way. It is based on the true story of Qasim Amin, an Egyptian writer and thinker who lived from 1868 till 1903 . At that time the British were occupying Egypt and many famous scholars were present at that time, such as Mohammed Abdo and Jamal al-din al-Afghani (both featured in the series). The show focuses on the political, social, and intellectual conditions present at the time and amazingly for an Egyptian program, features a really strong cast of actors and actresses.

The shows are always thought-provoking. Qasem Amin obtains a law degree from France and consequently full of 'enlightened' ideas about the freedom of women: they should know how to run their own affairs, they shouldn't be forced to stay in their houses all the time, etc. etc. He wrote about his ideas in a book called Tahrir al-Mar'a (Freeing the Woman). The problem with Qasem Amin (at least how they portray him) is that he mixes up things: parts of his ideas on women are correct and others aren't. For example, he correctly identifies the fact that women should be educated becaused they're the basis for our society. They raise children and shape their character. "Behind every great man is an equally great woman." But that doesn't mean that there should be mixing between genders or that women should have to join the work-force or other things that Qasim Amin advocated.

I have to say though, even the most just laws can be twisted to oppress people. One of Qasim Amin's friends is named Hassan. Hassan's father marries women, then divorces them after he gets tired of them, then marries someone else. Of course, he still provides for them and therefore it's his "legal right" according to Islam to have four wives and marry and divorce as he pleases. The spirit of the law is just as important as the letter, if not more important. The show is really well-made in the sense that it isn't just a long diatribe; they illustrate their point through the characters and situations that arise during the course of the story. The only thing I worry about is getting indoctrinated with ideas that aren't necessarily correct, so there's a on-goingwrestling match that I have with the show.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, there is an article on Qasim Amin on Wikipedia:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Qasem_Amin

The most important thing I've taken from watching Qasim Amin is that a true revolution starts with the thinkers and the people first. Qasim Amin, Mohammed Abdu, and company are constantly planning and thinking about how they can awake people from their slumber and encourage them to revolt against the British occupation. I think what's even more important is to motivate people to revolt against the erosion of our identity and our connection with Allah. It's easy to dream about going back to the 'glory' days, the days when Muslims ruled from Spain till India, the days when we decided the law, when we had the power. But that's not truly what we've come for.

The real revolution is the revolution of the heart.
Ma'asalam,
~Ameer

A Still from the Television Series

An Actual Portrait of Qasim Amin

The Usual Suspects (A Juha Story)

This is a Juha story. It would work well in a modern thriller, I'm sure. And if you're wondering, it sounds worse in Arabic, believe you me.

The title of the story is open to speculation. Intially I toyed with "Nice Story" then "Juha Strikes Back" then "The Great Juha Returns". Finally, I just named it after one of the world's movies famous for making you feeling empty inside.

Once upon a time, Juha was riding his donkey through the desert. Suddenly, he heard approaching footsteps. Juha kept his cool, and rode on as if he didn't hear them. In fact, he listened carefully to their conversation (my teacher said it's bad adhab to eavesdrop, but I suppose there are no eaves in the desert, and Juha doesn't follow any adhab rules, so it's safe to proceed without getting commented on by the super radical religious police we have going in Edmonton "blearily reads an email regarding the tawhid of the Nation of Islam, based on a Wikipedia article"). Anyhow, he found out that they were theives, plotting to steal his camel; perhaps they would kill him in the process.

Juha immediatly intiated a plan that would have stunned Keyser Soze; he pretended that he was majnoon and insane. Then he quickly hopped off the donkey and ran into the desert, singing. At night time, the theives unloosed the harness of the donkey and intiated the Brilliant Master Plan of the Master Criminal. One theif ran off with the donkey, and the other hooked himself up to the bridle. (I guess this was a ploy to confuse Juha. Go figure.)

Anyway, Juha comes back in the middle of the night and manages to mistake the man for the donkey. He runs off into the desert, all night. In the morning though, the man reveals himself as...you guessed it...a man. The theif claims that he was changed into a donkey in the past because his mother made dua against him because he never listened to her (que in Sami Yusuf "Mother, I'm Blessed Without You"). He claims to have been caught and sold into Juha's ownership. Now, his mother has apparently asked for his forgiveness, and he is back into a man. (sounds just like a steal from Beauty and the Beast). Juha tells him cryptically "Alhamdullilah. You're free. Don't ever offend your mother."

The next day, Juha is walking in the market when he finds the theives selling his donkey. Instead of calling the police, Juha walks up to the donkey and whispers into it's ear, "Why did you offend your mother."

The people inquired why Juha was talking to a donkey. Juha told his story, and the police made the approriate arrests. The story ends with Juha walking out of the police station to the donkey waiting outside.

"After that, I don't think you'll see him again."

Wasalam,

Mustafa.

Various

Assalam u alaikum,

I've finally discovered the secret reason behind the arrogance and pride of mankind.

They don't clean washrooms.

I guess you all won't want the detail.s

Alhamdulillah everything is going well. I'm writing on Thursday night in the Siraj Mall internet cafe. I don't like this cafe as much as the other one, because the other internet cafe run by Ammo Hazim and Co. is always full of Pakistani students wearing topis and jubbas and laughing their heads off as they play Fifa-Pro on xBox. However, the only advantage here is that the connection here is a lot faster. Otherwise Siraj Mall is a really weird, exotic, and undesirable place to be in. Mustafa and I realized that the reason why it is so big is because it is actually three or four buildings connected together. It's even worse than West Edmonton, actually, never mind, nothing is worse than West Ed.

Why is it that the only thing famous in Edmonton is a giant mall? The only thing you have to lose is your chains! Proletarians, unite!

The weather here in spring is really strange. Sometimes it gets really windy, the sand blowing across the streets and turning the sky gray. You almost feel sometimes like you're on another problem. But then it rains..."mercy like the rain" (I haven't seen the nasheed video but I love the title). It drizzles lightly and I bare my shoulder, remembering how Prophet (SA) used to bare his shoulder because the drop were recently with Allah. What a beautiful thought.

I have to take some pictures of Cairo as I go to my class in the morning. Cairo is definitely at its best in the morning. All the little children are on their way to school, the boys sleeping in the car, while the little girls smile with pearly white teeth. Insha'allah I will take some pictures and post them.

Today I was thinking about coming back to Edmonton and began to shudder piteously. The thought of Khala Su'ad of first testing my Arabic, then talking to me only in Arabic and giving me more Arabic poems to memorize is enough to make anyone scared. (I'm just joking, of course. I'm looking forward to coming back and talking to people in Arabic, Ammo Rafiq in particular).

Keep those duas rolling boys.

Ma'asalam,

~Ameer

What I listen to at Isha

http://english.islamway.com/bindex.php?section=echapters&recitor_id=236

The Past, The Present, and The Future

Assalam u alaikum,

The lessons in Kitab ul Assassi are getting pretty heavy ("fatty," as my teacher would say). I know a lot of people, especially the many foreign students studying here, hate Kitab ul Assassi because it is "non-Islamic" and all the women do not have hijab and it is boring but I personally thought that the people who wrote the book were smart. They started with things that would be important for foreign students to know: eating, sleeping, finding an apartment. Now that I'm in the second book alhamdulillah things are getting more interesting and more serious. Today's lesson was "The Dialogue Between Nations". Basically it was taken from an article in a magazine that called for people to engage in conversation and dialogue in order to save our world from the problems that face us all. The author makes the point that the proliferation of nuclear weapons, the pollution of the earth, and explosion of the human population are problems that face us all and do not discriminate between race, social standing, colour, or religion.

Some of people I've met tend to have a pretty hard approach to things: either our way or the highway. They want everyone to accept Islam automatically. They're not willing to talk to non-Muslims respectfully and consider them to be dirty and totally unintelligent. What they don't understand is that without dialogue, without good communication, without give and take, no one will be accept another person's position. Learning Arabic has helped me realize that changing yourself is not impossible: the mind can grow and stretch and change dimensions. But everything takes time and effort, without which change is artificial and sometime impossible.

Today I listened to Surah Ma'arij in Salat ul Isha and I realized also that besides all the shared problems we face, we also all share a common destiny: we all have to face our Lord someday. A day when there are no excuses, no more dialogue, no more conversation...

The guilty man will long to be able to ransom himself from the punishment of that day at the price of his children,

And his spouse and his brother,

And his kin that harboured him

And all that are in the earth, if then it might deliver him.

By no means! for it would be the Fire of Hell!


Truth is painful.

Ma'asalam,

~Ameer

Loyalty

Once there were was a green jungle, full of animals and trees (this is an Arabic jungle, okay? so it's a little idealistic). In this jungle there lived three bison: one white bison, one red bison, and one black bison (you'll see why I had to modify this story; there is no way one of these placid Egyptian bulls could fight off a lion; besides, I think this story should become a little more multicultural and adding a little Canadian tinge always spices things up). There also was...you guessed it...a lion. And the lion tried to eat the bison, but was unable to do so because when he would attack one, the others would rake him with their horns or trample him with their hoofs. The bisons' motto was always, "All for one and one for all."

But being an Arabic lion, he thought up of a plan to eat all the bison. One day he went to the red bull and black bull and respectfully addressed them.

"Look guys, I got something important to say."

The black bison pawed the ground and the red bison lowered his horns.

"Wow, steady there old fella. I really think you should listen. See, that white bison, he's a huge source of danger for us. All of us blend in together (red, black, and golden somehow blend of course) but that whitey over there, he's gonna get us killed by those hunter chaps! What do you say, let me eat him and we'll be free of danger forever!"

The bison stared blankly at each other and said, "Okay."

The lion ate the white bison, licked his chops, and came back to the red bison.

"Look, bud, you were pretty smart to listen to me the last time. But I've been thinking: the black bison doesn't camouflage so well either. Besides, he's pretty dumb, and I think this jungle will be a lot better if only you and I are living in it."

The red bison continued chewing, and said around a mouthful of grass, "Yeah, sure whatever."

The lion ate the black bison, licked his chops, and came back.

"Hi old boy. You know something, I'm gonna eat you, and there is nothing you can do about it."

The red bison looked around for a long time, being slightly short-sighted. His slow brain finally realized that he was all alone and he had no one to help him. The bison sighed, and said the saying that would becoming famous among Arabic proverbs,

"I was eaten the day the white bison was eaten."

Brotherhood

Assalam u alaikum,

Since coming to Egypt, I've realized that I don't appreciate the people around me. When I'm in Edmonton, I'm sort of grouchy. I don't enjoy meeting people. I go out of my way to try and avoid people, just stay at home, do my own thing. It's not that all the people in Edmonton aren't amazing: quite the opposite actually, but somehow when I meet other people I'm always trying to size them up, compare myself to them, figure out ways I can put myself over them. I never actually meet them: I just meet my own bloated image of myself.

Here in Cairo I feel completely different. When I meet other students I feel excited to be able to talk to other people. We meet someone and after five minutes it's like we've known them for our entire lives. I think other people who have travelled can relate to this. There is something purifying in leaving your own home: you're not secure anymore, you know that you hold nothing in your own hands, so when you meet other students like yourself, you know that they will help you and you will help them. And the stories of their lives are enthralling.

I met this British guy named Kaysar the other day. This guy has like I don't know how many degrees, he's worked in this place and that place, and here is, studying Arabic like Mustafa and I. I guess we're pretty lucky that Ammi and Abu trusted us to come here and study all by ourselves. It's not so simple sometimes for parents to do that, and I realize that after I meet different students and hear their stories.

Sometimes when I write I have a whole bunch of thought crowded up in my head and it comes out in a big jumble. John Milton was blind for the last part of his life while he was finishing his magnum opus, Paradise Lost. He employed a secretary to write down his poetry lines as he composed them in his head. One day his secretary was late and he reprimanded her, saying, "I need to be milked!" I start to get an idea of what that's like.

Today we started the lesson on Arabic proverbs. This I think will prove to be rich in ideas and wisdom, so insha'allah I'll try and post some of what I've learned soon insha'allah.

So until next episode of Crazy Canadians in Cairo, Stay Calm, Be Brave, and Wait for the Signs.

and meet people.

Ma'asalam,

~Ameer

Travels

Assalam u alaikum,

Today we went to play soccer, ka al-aada, and alhamdulillah as usual it was great. Mustafa and I have a kind of routine now: we leave at about six o'clock, arrive at the suq al-sayarat (car park where they sell cars; they just park their cars and I guess people just randomly select cars and then buy them? It's always packed but right after Fajr it's empty) and play with Turkmenistanians and Ramiz, an Egyptian who used to play soccer with one sock and one shoe (don't ask me why). We use that as a warm-up, getting our touches and passes flowing, pulling off a few dekes. Then at around 7:15 we leave and cross the street to the most beautiful pitch in the world; well, it is a car park also but we actually have NETS!

The people that we have met at soccer have been incredible. My favourite is Hamza, a Russian who has lived almost his entire life in Egypt. I could never have told from his demeanour, but he is studying Usul-ul-Din at Al-Azhar. I asked him about Russia, and he was saying that there are very few Muslims, but in Dagestan where he is from, there are lots of Muslims but in name only. I was amazed at the fact that his entire family left their homeland for a strange place just so their son could get the knowledge of the din. And I thought I was on a journey.

Alhamdulillah studies are going well. I have an oral test tomorrow insha'allah so please pray for me.

Ma'asalam,

~Ameer

Call that humiliation?

No hoods. No electric shocks. No beatings. These Iranians clearly are a very uncivilised bunch

(courtesty of Zachariah al-Khatib's blog, a.k.a Softest of Tongues)

Terry Jones
Saturday March 31, 2007
The Guardian

I share the outrage expressed in the British press over the treatment of

our naval personnel accused by Iran of illegally entering their waters.
It is a disgrace. We would never dream of treating captives like this -
allowing them to smoke cigarettes, for example, even though it has been
proven that smoking kills. And as for compelling poor servicewoman Faye
Turney to wear a black headscarf, and then allowing the picture to be
posted around the world - have the Iranians no concept of civilised
behaviour? For God’s sake, what’s wrong with putting a bag over her
head? That’s what we do with the Muslims we capture: we put bags over
their heads, so it’s hard to breathe. Then it’s perfectly acceptable to
take photographs of them and circulate them to the press because the
captives can’t be recognised and humiliated in the way these
unfortunate British service people are.

It is also unacceptable that these British captives should be made to talk on television and say things that they may regret later. If the Iranians put duct tape over their mouths, like we do to our captives, they wouldn’t be able to talk at all. Of course they’d probably find it even harder to breathe - especially with a bag over their head - but at least they wouldn’t be humiliated.

And what’s all this about allowing the captives to write letters home saying they are all right? It’s time the Iranians fell into line with the rest of the civilised world: they should allow their captives the privacy of solitary confinement. That’s one of the many privileges the US grants to its captives in Guantánamo Bay.

The true mark of a civilised country is that it doesn’t rush into charging
people whom it has arbitrarily arrested in places it’s just invaded.
The inmates of Guantánamo, for example, have been enjoying all the
privacy they want for almost five years, and the first inmate has only
just been charged. What a contrast to the disgraceful Iranian rush to
parade their captives before the cameras!

What’s more, it is clear that the Iranians are not giving their British prisoners any decent physical exercise. The US military make sure that their Iraqi captives enjoy PT. This takes the form of exciting “stress positions”, which the captives are expected to hold for hours on end so as to improve their stomach and calf muscles. A common exercise is where they are made to stand on the balls of their feet and then squat so that
their thighs are parallel to the ground. This creates intense pain and,
finally, muscle failure. It’s all good healthy fun and has the bonus
that the captives will confess to anything to get out of it.

And this brings me to my final point. It is clear from her TV appearance
that servicewoman Turney has been put under pressure. The newspapers
have persuaded behavioural psychologists to examine the footage and
they all conclude that she is “unhappy and stressed”.

What is so appalling is the underhand way in which the Iranians have got her “unhappy and stressed”. She shows no signs of electrocution or burn
marks and there are no signs of beating on her face. This is
unacceptable. If captives are to be put under duress, such as by
forcing them into compromising sexual positions, or having electric
shocks to their genitals, they should be photographed, as they were in
Abu Ghraib. The photographs should then be circulated around the
civilised world so that everyone can see exactly what has been going on.

As Stephen Glover pointed out in the Daily Mail, perhaps it would not be
right to bomb Iran in retaliation for the humiliation of our
servicemen, but clearly the Iranian people must be made to suffer -
whether by beefing up sanctions, as the Mail suggests, or simply by
getting President Bush to hurry up and invade, as he intends to anyway,
and bring democracy and western values to the country, as he has in
Iraq.

· Terry Jones is a film director, actor and Python
www.terry-jones.net

Discoveries

Assalam u alaikum,

"Every day is an adventure," as Mustafa says. I'm not sure why we always tend to see our normal lives as boring. Actually (theoretically, as I can't claim to be like this) a Muslim shouldn't ever be 'bored'. Nothing ever remains static. As my Arabic teacher was telling me, the heart is constantly moving and changing. The word qalb in Arabic means "heart" and also, as a verb, means "to turn" or "to flip". So that's how we are, actually, always turning and flipping and changing. Unless your dead, which a lot of people are.

Alhamdulillah among the greatest things that we found in the last couple of days is a sheikh who can listen to our Qur'an every day. His name is Sheikh Bilal. The masjid where he leads salah is, uh, shall we say, unfinished, but it is still worth it to pray there. Masha'allah he has really good recitation, really good character, and is surprisingly young. I pray that this will be good for us insha'allah.

We have also discovered...a new restaurant! Castro's is a restaurant that has absolutely nothing to do with Fidel Castro, although they have pictures of him and Che Guevara plastered everywhere. They have really good pizza and (oh boy) hot dogs. But I think we better take it easy, since for some reason I don't think pizza is a health food.

You know how Mustafa is always thinking up new ideas for a business? Well he was inspired by Castro's and decided he wants to open up a new restaurant on Whyte Avenue called "Che" (how original). The restaurant will specialize in a "revolutionary" diet that is vegetarian, organic and really cheap. I hate to think what he will think of next.

Today we played soccer in the morning as usual. It's even more fun now than it was before because we play with the Turkmenistanians and Russians first, then with a whole bunch of students from all over the world. Our games with the students are 10 minutes long and intensely competitive. The characters who play with us are unforgettable: Moin bhai from Bangladesh, Hamza from Russia; Abdul Malik, an African guy from Britain who has crazy ball control; Dawud, who almost cries if he misses; another wise-cracking brother from New York who's name I've forgotten, and the unparallelled DR. SAIF!!!! I'm gonna let Mustafa describe Dr. Saif because I'm sure he can do a much better job than me, but I'll just say that he is like a cross between Tanveer Phupha and Azhar Usman. Just You Think It!

Alhamdulillah everything is going really well. It's almost been a month and a half, but I think that it's gone well so far. We need dua's the same way we need water.

Ma'asalam,

~Ameer

The Pyramids

Assalam u alaikum,

The Pyramids. The word never meant much to me before, but now I know why it's ranked among the seven wonders of the world. It truly is a wonder. What I don't understand (and everyone who see them wonders the same thing) is how they built such collosal building with no bulldozers, no huge machines, nothing?! Just pure man-power. But I start from the wrong end.

Yesterday was Mustafa's day-off, so we decided that we would make use of the opportunity and at least visit the pyramids once. We knew we wouldn't have that much time, but we were kind of ashamed of the fact that we've been in Egypt almost two months and we haven't even been near the pyramids. So after I whizzed through my homework, we got a backpack, filled it with water-bottles and set out on our quest. It was a really neat feeling, like we were actually inside The Alchemist.

The weather was great, and we managed to get a taxi for only 25 guineas, which is pretty good considering that the pyramids are about one hour away from Nasr City. You don't realize it in Nasr City, but Cairo is built in a desert. The transition was really abrupt, we were in the city adn suddenly we were in the middle of a colossal desert. The highway then ran over the Nile River, and again there was an abrupt transition to the lushest kind of vegetation you can imagine, and then desert again. Egypt is full of contradictions, not least because the greatest river in the world runs through a desert.

The first glimpse of the pyramid was un-replicable. Mustafa saw them first and kept tapping me on the shoulder until finally I saw them. The sun above the pyramids made them shine brightly as if made of pure gold. You don't really understand how big they are until you see them. They tower above you, as if they are monoliths erected by aliens who left without explaining their purpose or meaning. Mustafa and I gaped at them with our mouths open. What kind of people were they? How arrogant they must have been, to make something like that.

The adventure truly began when we reached the pyramid. O Fellow Travellers, develop minds of steel! We were taken in by the Egyptian "guides" like Green Foreigners. It was horrific. The man accosted us as soon as we left our taxi.

"Do you speak English or Arabic?"
I was tempted to say Arabic, but thought English would be safer. I was wrong.
"Lookthepyramidstheygonnacloseatfouro'clockyoupayfiftyguineastogetinyounoseeanything. Come with us. We'll take you on a tour for only 40 guineas."
"Shukran Ammo, we're just going to check it out ourselves..."
"Are you calling me a liar?" Then his friend pipes in,
"He's a Muslim just like you!"

Things were getting serious. Worst of all, we had stopped to talk to them. When we tried to walk away, the friend started following us, reiterating all his various arguments about the pyramids would close and what's your name and who knows what else. See the problem is, as Canadians, we always are naive and eventually believe whatever we are told. "Farewell, my childhood, I know better now."

We capitulated and went with the man to ride the horses. To cut a long story short, I continued arguing with the "guide" the entire time while we are on the trip, making it impossible to really enjoy it. But even though we spent too much money and constantly argued with them, it was totally worth it. Riding galloping horses in the desert in front of the pyramids...picture it. It was nothing short of brilliant.

We returned home tired but satisfied. Finally we had been to a place that had lived up to our grand expectations. The one thing I've realized is that no one is more powerful than Allah. That civilization was the most powerful in the world, yet all that is left of them is a pile of stones. A grand pile of stones, no doubt, but just an eroding structure of sand. No power is too great to fall.

Ozymandius by: Percy Bysshe Shelley

I met a traveler from an antique land Who said: "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert... Near them, on the sand, Half-sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed; And on the pedestal these words appear: My name is Ozymandius, King of Kings, Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair! Nothing beside remains. Round the decay Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare The lone and level sands stretch far away.

Ma'asalam,

~Ameer