Sometimes professional people in the community say some strange things. One such Professor in Sudan said on the national channel (Blue Nile) that "all Sudanese women were short and ugly". How charming.
This was the fantastic response...
(Partly in English, partly in Arabic - but the passion needs no language to be understood!)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lT7KkcWp5Ro
The niqab, burka and things women women use to cover their heads and faces due to faith are of great fascination for much of Western society. Much of the commentary precludes opinions from the ‘primary source’ (women who wear these items of clothing), and as such there are significant and often damaging assumptions made about the subjects.
‘Subjects’ is an uncomfortable but apt term, as many niqabed Muslim women are seen as foreign objects of curiosity and conjecture. They are rarely ever perceived as human women who have hopes, dreams, kids, families, gardens, laundry and all the same dramas as every other human.
So given the fact that I don’t wear the niqab, what gives me the right to talk about this topic?
Nothing really, to be honest, and I do my best not to talk on behalf of, but to hopefully propose alternative narratives in an effort to change perceptions. This post is one such example.
As you may or may not know, I spent the first half of 2012 in Sudan with my grandmother, learning how to cook, become a ‘good housewife’ and studying Arabic at the local university. The university I went to, unbeknown to me at the time, turned out to be an Islamic based - and very traditional - institution for international students from all over Africa. This meant that the classes for men and women were separated and many of the women were from all over Africa, rather than just Sudan.
I was fortunate enough to befriend many of my fellow classmates, although it was an interesting experience as our life experiences were very different! Funnily enough, because we were in an all-women class, all the ladies would remove any niqabs they wore and many would have their hair out (the 45 - 50 degree heat wasn’t conducive to many layers of clothing). As such, my ideas of them were not founded around what they wore but their varied personalities and stories. I’d actually forgotten they all wore niqabs until I saw the following photographs on a former colleague’s Facebook page:
What are these photos, you may be asking? Are we seeing women being trained up for some crazy operation that we don’t understand?
No, what you see are African (Ugandan and Nigerian) women being trained as mechanical engineers and technicians.
Not only do these women have to brave the standard ‘women in engineering’ perception, they have to do so in an extremely hostile and patriarchal culture. They learn how to take apart engines, weld and manufacture equipment, and do so with flair.
It is inspiring.
They’re smart and driven, but also feminine and devout. Sure, it isn’t easy. There is no denying the difficulties… but these are examples of women who do almost everything they want to, and what they wear in no way oppresses them.
Kinda cool huh? Glad you clicked? I am too :)
Ah, it seems sometimes I avoid writing because I am a little afraid of what will come out when I start...
Oh Sudan, how you tear me in two.
***
I just got back from a whirlwind trip to Sudan, the land of my birth. I was there for a total of 4 full days; three days and two half days. If you consider all the flying, I was almost in the air as long as I was on the ground. I returned for the weddings of cousins and to see my Grandmother, a lady who I have lived with and who has taught me so much (the School of Life, as she refers to it).
As the plane came in to land (Alhamdulilah), I thought of the last time I was in Sudan. Coming out of university, going to study Arabic: it was a time of hope, of growth, of the Arab Spring, of something new and exciting. They were memories of rose tinted (or sand blasted) glasses, gleaming with the nostalgia of a time gone by, before #riglyf or the ruin of Syria...
It was not until my return to the hustle and bustle of the extended family home, the dramas surrounding preparations for the weddings or the two hours the hairdresser berated me for the state of my hair (HOW DARE YOU LEAVE IT CURLY?! Don't you know a woman's hair is the crown of her beauty? Don't you want to be beautiful?! How do you think you will find a man? Don't you want to feel attractive?) that the other memories of Sudan began to resurface.
(My favourite comment the hairdresser made: Oh look, I know you think you're an engineer and you're with all these men so you shouldn't take care of yourself, but girl, don't kid yourself. Men want a womanly woman. Just remember that. When I made noises about having a man not being the most important thing in my life, she fell quiet for a few minutes. A few blissful minutes of peace, before the barrage began again, with a different tact: Didn't I want to show everyone else in the house I could be beautiful? I could only muster and agreement-sounding moan).
Returning to the other memories of Sudan: although I'd forgotten, it was the only time in my life that my actions were constantly not enough, not right, not adequate - in a big way. Having not been brought up in Sudan but being of Sudanese origin, I was expected (by this age) to espouse the 'correct' and perfect Sudanese way of being a woman. This, as hard as I might, was not yet achieved. Sure, if I worked at it as hard as I did my engineering degree, I'd probably be a hell of a lady by Sudanese standards, but to be perfectly honest - it just didn't rate with the priorities. That doesn't stop the judgement though...
What were these 'correct' rules that were meant to be espoused? Some simple examples include:
- To make the perfect cup of tea (when to serve, how much sugar, how much to pour, the correct herbs to be added and to do it all with the utmost grace and such),
- To look like the perfect lady (preferably short, thin, not too thin as to look malnourished because that is undesired but not too large as to look like you weren't in control of your portion sizes (and definitely not muscled, lord, that was for men!), with neat manicured nails, smooth, moisturised skin - the whiter the better - with as few markings as possible, straight hair that would be coiffed into rolling curls and once whooshed out of the hijab it had been covered in under 40 degree heat all day, would gleam like the sun and smell like fairies; make up that looked good but not too fake, henna that was done well and not fading, clothing that was attractive but not too tight and shoes that were classy but would withstand the mud... you get the gist)
- To be able to cook, well (No elaboration necessary. Isn't this a prerequisite for every culturally diverse woman?)
- To be interested in womanly things, not politics and cars and football and engineering and the things that were reserved for men...
- To be the a witty conversationalist but also to talk about polite topics and not stray into overly satirical humour (not sure it translates...)
Alas, I may be being somewhat facetious.
However, the truth of the matter (as far as I can see) is this...
Sudan, north Sudan in particular, is a deeply traditional, communal society. Societies that are tribal and based on community in the way that the Sudanese are can often be deeply judgemental. In this world, a woman's reputation is her only weapon, her beauty of uptmost importance and her ability to hold a household and care for a family paramount.
Many of the things I have learned to value here in Australia - the community work, the breaking of the barriers in the industry I work in, the influence in public conversations - yes, that is of passing interest to the families in Sudan, but really, honestly?
It doesn't rate in comparison.
So I go from being someone who is confident in their ability and place in the world to someone who feels like they don't know the rules at all really, and the rules I do know, I don't adhere to very well at all.
The kicker? This is supposed to be where I am from. This would be where I was from, if my parents hadn't decide to make that audacious journey to the other side of the globe in 1992.
So, Sudan is a place where I feel I have roots - deep roots - my only roots.
It is a place I feel I must
Yet although I know I must learn to love Sudan, because it is a place that keeps me grounded and connected, it is also a nation that makes me feel judged and inadequate. It is a place whose values and traditions I know I should espouse, and yet, I find myself disagreeing with. The issue then becomes that yet if I reject these based on the Australian values embedded within me, well it means I am then becoming 'westernised'.
'Westernised' being synonymous with losing my identity, not being 'true or genuine', or almost taking the side of the oppressors. It isn't a rational fear, as those aren't all rational reasons or statements, yet, somehow, it is there.
The implication is that somehow, by trying to be different, I am implicitly forsaking my Sudanese identity and redefining myself as a true coconut - black on the outside, white on the inside. The implication is that taking the identity of the 'white' and the associated individualistic, capitalist nature, is clearly the wrong thing to do.
It can't be.
I am Australian, Muslim, born in Sudan with mixed heritage. I get to pick and chose what I want to take on, right? Yet, every time I go back, I feel guilty about my choices.
Why? I don't know, but this cannot go on...Surely, something has to make it through this madness.
You see, even by calling it madness, I am wracked by guilt. Doesn't Sudan have enough haters, my conscious asks me. Do you really need to be like all the others and hate on it as well? What makes you any better than all of them... why aren't you backing Sudan?
My conscious can be a right burr sometimes.
Oh Sudan.
A good friend of mine recommended this TEDx talk performed in Sudan and I simply love it. It talks about ambition, gumption, examples of Sudanese who have defeated the odds and 'made it'...and is a great grass roots video for young Sudanese to watch and be inspired by. Note that it is in Arabic, and pretty Sudanese Arabic at that!
Enjoy.
Can you believe it has been an entire 12 months since this blog began?
It has been an exciting year of growth and development so thank you all for sharing that journey.
There have been over 4100 unique visitors over the past year, with over 12,000 page views. Thank you for taking the time to engage! That is pretty awesome! :)
Also, thank you all for reading and being part of this community! I hope that we can continue to grow together, debate and discuss, reflect and learn from one another.
To celebrate, here is a little walk down memory lane: the top 10 posts of the last 12 months! Enjoy!!
1. Women in the East, Women in the West - Finding the Middle Ground
This was written after returning from four months in Sudan, visiting family, studying formal Arabic at university and going through a very profound reflective period. Profound mostly because it opened up perspectives that I hadn't truly considered or interrogated before and provided much food for thought. That experience will continue to inform the way I understand society and place equal value in both Eastern and Western experiences.
2. Please explain why my clothing choice matters to you?
Another reflection from the East/West point of intersection, written after a strangely affecting incident at the Brisbane Airport. It was really an inconsequential incident in its own right, but brought up many questions afterward as to the symbolism of dress and the lack of nuanced understanding that sometimes rears its head in our society.
Essentially a review on an interesting film about war photographers. Asking the question - should the photographer or journalist simply put aside their moral obligation as humans to report?
The page that talks the Sudanese Revolts of 2012. Reflections, thoughts, links, advice... unfortunately the attempted coup was decisively shut down but it was interestined to see the other part of the battle nonetheless.
5. Cultural Sh-Sh-Shock: Part 2
Yet another post about the cultural differences I observed on my trip to Sudan and noting a few of the aspects of cultural shock that I encountered, particularly the difference between expectations for men and women.
6. Study Secrets to Ace Your Exams (Part 1)
These are honestly the tips and tricks that got me through University and allowed me to (Alhamdulilah/thank God!) graduate with first class honours while doing all - or many - of the other things that were important, including Youth Without Borders, the UQ Racing team and much more. Part two is still on its way.
7. Book Review: Adam Parr's "The Art of War"
A review about a well presented book written during a very interesting time in Formula 1 politics and management. Well worth reading.
8. 10 Useful Brain Sharpening Websites for 2013
The title says it all. A toolbox full of links that will help you keep your brain KEEEEEN!
Less and post and more a category, this ranked in 9th and is essentially links to all the crazy stories and conversations that I have while working out in the oil and gas rigs in Australia.
A post written in the aftermath of 'The Innocence of Muslims' video. A brief look at why this sort of reaction is common and perhaps what we as a society can do to change it.
I honestly really look forward to the next 12 months with you all, and can't wait!
Thanks to my father for the heads up on this initiative!
The British Council in Khartoum, in collaboration with a few local players in Sudan including Sudanese Young Businessmen Association and Sudani Telcom has launched a competition for budding Sudanese entrepreneurs.
Called "Mashrouy", which translates to "My Project" in Arabic, the aim is to select 12 people/teams from the pool of applications for a competition to be aired at Blue Nile Satellite Station.
It is open for Sudanese people - both in Sudan and overseas - aged 18 to 40 - who have a business (commercial) idea that needs funding. In addition to the cash prize (SDG200,000, 150,000 and 100,000 for the top three) there is also the opportunity to spend three weeks in the UK for coaching.
The Sudan Vision Daily has some information here and Alnilin also has a bit more information.
The 'Mashrouy' website (in Arabic) has the application form - closing date 20 May 2013.
[box type="info"] “The completion we are launching today is seeking ambitious bright young people in Sudan who have creative business proposals that needs support to be developed”, said the British Charge d’ Affaires Mr. David Belgrove in his address in the conference. Adding that the future and growth of the country require investment in youth and we hope that through this project young Sudanese will be able to kick-off the ground their innovative ideas and contribute to the growth and development of the economy of their country. He concluded by saying that all over the world with very few exceptions, all the largest companies in the world have started as a small business”.[/box]
This is an awesome opportunity for young Sudanese and those with ideas and the drive to push them to fruition.
There are numerous barriers to entrepreneurs and entrepreneurship in Sudan, but this may well be one of the avenues around those barriers. I encourage all young Sudanese reading this to consider putting in an application or forward it to someone who might find it of use!
An interesting job that was forwarded to me for the Human Rights Watch…I encourage you to apply! Find out more:
FULL-TIME JOB VACANCY RESEARCHER ON SUDAN/SOUTH SUDAN Africa Division (Juba or Nairobi preferred) Application Deadline: September 12, 2012
Human Rights Watch (“HRW”) is seeking a Researcher to monitor the human rights situation in Sudan and South Sudan. This position will report to a Senior Researcher in the Africa Division.
Have you ever had your fundamental beliefs about your role in society challenged?
I never thought it would be so…confusing.
Having recently returned from a four month stint in Sudan, I have been trying to reconcile what I saw and experienced there with my experience growing up in Australia as an Aussie chick. I think I am still figuring it all out…
I never really considered myself a true victim of the “identity crisis” issues that were said to plague first and second generation migrants that make Australia their home. I considered myself ‘Straylian through and through, from the way I talked and thought, to my mates and sports of choice (except for cricket…soccer girl all the way). I loved the fact that I could walk into a pump shop at a mine site in central Queensland as a hijabi-wearing-Sudanese-born gal and instantly relate to the old mates working maintenance because, well, I grew up here. This was my country, these were my people.
I felt comfortable with the choices I had made: my degree and career (mechanical engineer, pretty butch), my sport (boxing: yup, as feminine as they come) and the belief that my gender played no part in the role I was to play in society. My mantra was pretty much “well if the boys can do it, I can do it too”. My father was naturally horrified, but hid it well and mostly accepted that was who I had become.
Boy, was I in for a treat when I got to Sudan.
My first month was…interesting. Not because of the heat, or the conditions or the lack of system…but because of the cultural expectations that were placed on me that I just wasn’t accustomed to. I understood and accepted the bare bones of it all (after all, my parents brought me up as a Sudanese woman), but what frustrated me was the clear discrepancy between the roles of men and women and the unwritten rules that I was expected to adhere to.
Sport was a big one – my grandmother couldn’t understand why I wanted to train on the local track, competed with my uncle in pushups or was so interested in exercise. It wasn’t even the obviously masculine things that were different: Apparently the way I walked, sat, talked, laughed…the issues I wanted to debate (politics isn’t for women!) and the interests that I had were all unfeminine and undesirable in a respectable Sudanese woman.
I used to joke to my aunt: “Someone should write a rule book on “How to live life as a Sudanese woman” so I don’t keep putting my foot in it and doing the wrong thing”
She would just laugh. “This is how it is here…”
At first, I found it funny. I loved being the odd one out, flying in the face of what was acceptable, just being me. Then it began to frustrate me. Why was I being judged on things that had nothing to do with my true character? Why weren’t my cousins fighting for their rights as women!
It isn’t as if my cousins were “oppressed”. Hardly. My cousins are all studying or working and my aunts all have higher degrees. Their English is great and they are all well educated and well read. In fact, one aunt is running one of the biggest businesses in Sudan! So the opportunity for women to do things is there. Yet… I still couldn’t understand how the women were living with such cultural restrictions.
My cousin shed some light on her perspective one night and said something that I had never considered before.
“It is so cool that you are travelling and doing all this stuff and seeing the world Yassmina, but that is your world. You have to accept what we have accepted that this is our world and we have to operate in it. It’s not as bad as you think! We know what we have to do and the role we have to play to be a good woman, a good wife, a good Sudanese and a good Muslim, so we do that. We don’t want to make our lives harder by looking for things that we don’t really need…”
My aunt echoed a similar sentiment. “You might look at me and say woah, she has a degree but she is sitting at home taking care of the house, how oppressed is she! But I love doing this! I love taking care of the house, cooking and being there for my family, and many others do as well. I work [she has a teaching job], but I work hours that will suit the family because at the end of the day, the family is most important. You might disagree Yassmina, but the woman is better suited to bringing up a family; you can’t have a home without a mother…and I am happy to fill that role”.
Hold up! I thought. Yes, there were some societal inequalities that women had issues with and were wanting to have resolved…but by and large they were happy with the role they were playing in life? They **wanted** to be caregivers and homemakers? Wait…does this mean our entire definition of success differs? Huh? Didn’t they want to be liberated?
Yikes. Now I was confused and I began to wonder…
Maybe there is some validity in the way my family see the role of a woman. Maybe it is too crazy for me to expect a man to have an equal share in the housework. Maybe, as a woman, I have to think about my role as a procreator and a homemaker as just as, if not more important, than my career…
If you know me at all, you would know those thoughts are truly at odds with how I tend to see the world.
There is another aspect to it too, one that I haven’t talked about here, and that is how the women see it as their Islamic duty to be the caregivers and the homemakers. This was harder for me to deal with, because I don’t have the scholarly Islamic knowledge to confidently refute what they were saying.
So I reached a point where I was at a loss.
Do I forget about everything I saw and learnt in Sudan and continue living life the way I had been in Australia, with gender not being a factor in my decisions because “that’s how I grew up”?
Or, do I follow the path described by my cultural background, where all my decisions are largely based on gender and gender roles… because that is “where I am from?”
I had – and sometimes still have – difficulty reconciling what I grew up with and what my background encourages. The thing is, I think the expected role of a Sudanese woman in society is at odds with the expected role as an Australian woman in society.
How does one deal with that?
***
I guess for me, I think I am beginning to realise that the idea that “women can have it all” is fair enough, but perhaps for me should be amended to “women can have whatever they want”. If they want the house and kids that’s great, and if they want the career that is within their rights as well. Having it all at the same time though… that might be a little more difficult.
I don’t have a concrete answer to my mental dilemma just yet. All I do know is that I feel there needs to be a middle ground, and that is the one that I choose to take, inshallah. A path that takes into account that I am a woman, but that doesn’t limit my choices, it informs them.
If there is one thing I took away from the trip, it is this: It is important, as a woman, to recognise that if (and inshallah when) you choose to have a family, the role as a mother is invaluable and cannot be substituted… and that gender does play a factor in the family dynamic, whether we like it or not.
***
How it will all play out and how much will I take from that lesson? I guess only time will tell…
What about you? How do you see the role of women in society? Have you ever had your views so challenged?
***
Hello all. In the essence of laying low...here is some information other people wrote =) Also posted on the SudanRevolts blog, of which I am current Media Monitor. For any suggestions for articles etc, please let me know.
Now that the international media is picking the story up a little more, there is plenty of analysis to get your teeth into.
Here is a tip: If you are on twitter and want to follow people clued into the movement, check out this list.
A great collection of photos from Foreign Policy
The United States condemns the crackdown on protesters
Christian Caryl asks the media to cover the story of #SudanRevolts in the piece: The Sudanese Stand up
Jadaliyya provides a great analysis on understanding the prospects and challenges for another popular intifada in Sudan.
Sandstorm Friday on Foreign Policy
Economic hardship is joining corruption, war and crackdowns among the grievances of Sudan's citizens against the ruling regime as political forces unite for change, writes Asmaa El-Husseini in this peace in Al Ahram
Armin rosen from World Affairs asks the question, is this a Khartoum Spring?
Of all the Arab Spring processes, the violent and nonviolent opposition to the NCP could turn out to be the least predictable—and the most destabilizing—in the region. But it could also offer Sudan something it hasn’t had since the signing of the Comprehensive Peace Agreement in 2005, the treaty with the Sudanese People’s Liberation Movement that ended decades of civil war, and a pact that Khartoum has been sabotaging and violating in various ways for the past seven years. It could offer a chance for the egalitarian and democratic future that Bashir and the NCP have so violently denied their country.
***
So on the eve of the Lick Your Elbows Friday...what can we offer in terms of reading fodder?
Round up of great links by Foreign Policy for some background information.
Darfur SLM offers its support for peaceful protests
Change is in the air in Sudan says the Guardian
Elbows and Sandstorms in Khartoum
We Egyptians have learned over the past year and a half that people all over the world can make a difference, and so solidarity and support are essential for the success of any legitimate call for justice and human rights. When the international media was reluctant to upset our dictator, the words of the people all over the world on social media and their protests in front of Egyptian embassies made a difference. We are all in the same trench, so regardless of nationality, we must seek freedom for others, just as we do for ourselves.
The Independent reports on the importance of the Lick Your Elbow demonstrations:
Khartoum is braced for a "make or break" day of demonstrations tomorrow, as anger at the rising cost of living spills over into Arab Spring-style protests on the streets of Sudan's capital.
If you read one piece today, make it Amir Ahmad Nasir's article on Foreign Policy: "Sudan Needs a Revolution". Actually make that two articles for the day: Brilliant analysis on why the regime will fall.
Bloomberg correspondent Sarah El Wardany deported from Sudan by authorities
Omdurman dormitories set on fire by the NISS
The Washington Post highlights the facts
Apparently there are "foreign elements" aiding the protests, according to the official line. (Could it be, Oh, the diaspora perhaps?)
Shadi Bushra talks about #SudanRevolts raging underneath Tahrir's shadow
The fuel subsidies will not be reinstated says the finance minister
At the same time, bombing occurs in Darfur...
Sudan: Shaken and Stirred
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0QxWn_kmKx0
Doing a little Media Monitoring gig so will be collecting articles and analysis that comes out on the current #SudanRevolts. Please let me know if you would like to be featured or if I have missed anything significant. This can also be found on the #SudanRevolts blog.
It seems all my recent posts are published at 4am, with very little proofreading and more of an emotional outpouring in response to the situations I find myself in. Maybe I should invest in a diary instead... ***
So, you might find my tone in this post a little different. I have decided to jump feet first into the fray, helping out where I can and doing what I think is right. Taking the moral road, if you will.
You know what I've learnt? It is actually scary as hell.
I don't know if I am supposed to say that. I really don't. Perhaps I should be strong and courageous in the face of adversity and not be admit apprehension...but experiencing things first hand is different indeed to hearing stories. It makes you truly appreciate what *ahem* actual freedom fighters go through. It makes you ask the question, is it really worth it?
I think it is. I really do. The sad thing is though, I am not sure everyone else shares that opinion, and that is what truly scares me. For if your everyday Sudanese doesn't care for their country... why will anything change?
***
I like to make a habit of talking to the raksha (tuk-tuk) drivers and the shop keepers and what not to get a feeling for what the average citizen is feeling.
Let me tell you this: the average citizen is weary.
Khalas, they tell me: enough.
'Life is hard, tough, ridiculous... how can we keep living? Where is this country going??' They ask me.
I don't have an answer, because I wonder the same thing.
'Why don't you try to change things?' I ask them.
"Why should we?"
***
Why should we?
This is the question that makes Sudan different from the case of say, Egypt.
People are not overwhelmingly proud to be Sudanese! They don't want to do things for their country.
Oh, they will be proud of their tribe, that is for sure. They will tell you yes! I am Shaygi, Ma7as, Ja3fari... and they will defend their tribal name to the death! But defend their country? No...
I was given the example once that if you walked into a restaurant and started loudly bad mouthing Sudan, you wouldn't elicit a response. If you walked in and slandered a tribe though, oh, lord forbid! You would have to be brought out in a stretcher.
To be honest, as someone brought up in Australia I had never considered the tribal aspect of being Sudanese until I returned and Sudanese people would ask me: "So, where are you from?"
"..uh..Sudan?"
"No, who are your people??"
"...uh...My people?..."
*cue awkward conversation endings that included answers like: uh..engineers? ..lovers of rnb?*
Odd, I thought. (They all thought I was odd too, trust me).
Why is it, that people have such strong tribal affiliations but no connection to their national identity?
Perhaps it is because, as my cousin so aptly put it, Sudan has given them nothing.
Sudan, as a nation, doesn't support its citizens.
There is poor education,
A health system that kills more than it cures,
An economy that is strangling its people,
...and even if you make it through all that, there is no opportunity for progress.
Everywhere you turn, people tell me, things are made difficult for you. My own experience backs this up completely: to register at a university or even change a tire takes an entire day, because you have to chase every.single.thing.up.yourself.
I have been told by numerous Sudanese people not to bother trying to change anything. Just get out!
Why?
Because apparently, Sudan isn't worth the hassle.
It isn't worth getting caught or arrested for, it isn't worth being afraid or losing opportunity for... Sudan, they tell me, is getting worse and there is no uphill from here.
***
I disagree.
***
I don't think it is going to be easy.
I don't think it is one person's fight -- or even just one generation's fight.
I don't think it will happen quickly, or painlessly.
But you know what? I think it has to happen.
I think the people have to believe that Sudan is worth fighting for. Because it is!
It is the land of the Nile, a land of culture, family, food, hospitality and tradition.
A land with promise!
A land that needs its people to believe in it.
Oh yes, the idealism of the youth, my older, more jaded family members tell me.
You will learn that this system strangles the hope from you they say.
Well, let it try.
***
I have learnt a lot over the past few days...
Learnt how difficult it is to control something like a "movement"; sometimes you just have to go with the flow,
How to speak as a "we" rather than an "I",
What people will give up for the cause,
What lengths people will go to in protection of the status quo...
To think, I only came to the country to learn Arabic!
