My babies.
Sarah and Salma.
The twins.
Salma and Sarah.
The salem sisters.
Sarma.
23 June 2011
22 June 2011
For lack of a better word.
I wouldn't call it a writer's block, since that implies me being a writer, so I will just call it a block for lack of a better word.
Today is my 20th day back in the Cairo, as I arrived here on the 2nd of the month, I posted only one single tiny post since then. I get ideas but for some reason I don't or can't write them.
I left Cairo for three days and went to Nuweiba in Sinai. It was beautiful, but even that I couldn't write about.
It was blogging against sexual harrassment in Egypt day, and still I couldn't get myself to write .
I don't even take as much photos as I should or would normally do.
Cairo is exhausting in itself, it's overwhelming, even if you're doing nothing, you still feel drained and tired at the end of the day. She uses you and abuses you all day, everyday,just because she can. Just because you can't do anything about it, whether you love her or hate her, you simply can't get enough of her. You get addicted to the pace of the city, to the daily struggles, to the thick air, to everything.
Cairo becomes your opium.
But, I miss Paris.
I miss Paris and feel bad about it. I feel like cheating on Cairo by missing Paris. I shouldn't be missing Paris because I am with Cairo; the love of my life. But then again, Paris is my favourite mistress, and I am allowed to miss her. Her and her stupid little things.
It's a love triangle here. Me and my cities. My cities and I.
So, here's to both of them, to Cairo, to Paris, to my love affairs with unknown cities, to missing Paris, to leaving Cairo, but always, to coming back.
Today is my 20th day back in the Cairo, as I arrived here on the 2nd of the month, I posted only one single tiny post since then. I get ideas but for some reason I don't or can't write them.
I left Cairo for three days and went to Nuweiba in Sinai. It was beautiful, but even that I couldn't write about.
It was blogging against sexual harrassment in Egypt day, and still I couldn't get myself to write .
I don't even take as much photos as I should or would normally do.
Cairo is exhausting in itself, it's overwhelming, even if you're doing nothing, you still feel drained and tired at the end of the day. She uses you and abuses you all day, everyday,just because she can. Just because you can't do anything about it, whether you love her or hate her, you simply can't get enough of her. You get addicted to the pace of the city, to the daily struggles, to the thick air, to everything.
Cairo becomes your opium.
But, I miss Paris.
I miss Paris and feel bad about it. I feel like cheating on Cairo by missing Paris. I shouldn't be missing Paris because I am with Cairo; the love of my life. But then again, Paris is my favourite mistress, and I am allowed to miss her. Her and her stupid little things.
It's a love triangle here. Me and my cities. My cities and I.
So, here's to both of them, to Cairo, to Paris, to my love affairs with unknown cities, to missing Paris, to leaving Cairo, but always, to coming back.
09 June 2011
Somewhere in the middle.
Mixed feelings is how I feel about being home.
I've been trying to write something about it but I couldn't and still can't. But I will try.
Too many things to say. Or not a thing to say. Somewhere in between.
Yeah, it's good to be home, see your friends and family, eat good food and actually move around in cars.
But there is a lot more to it now than just that.
Cairo is a mess, to be honest. I am not saying I don't like it, I am just saying it's a mess. But then again it has always been one, and somehow it works for her.
But this is a new mess, a fresh mess that none of us is used to it.
The thing is, I can't help but feel like some kind of observer, looking at all that from some kind of distance that is living abroad. Because yeah, it's true, at the end of the day I am going back to Paris in two months, I am not staying through the whole thing, I wasn't there through the whole thing and I can't do anything about it.
Maybe it's a good thing to have distance from the mess, to be able to see things a little bit more clearly, without being too involved in the details that can very much exhaust you and cloud your vision. But then again, I am very much involved in the details of everything, not necessarily by choice, but yeah I am very very much involved in the details.
So, where do I stand now? Somewhere between too close and too far, somewhere between an observer and a participant, somewhere between Cairo and Paris. Somewhere in the middle.
I've been trying to write something about it but I couldn't and still can't. But I will try.
Too many things to say. Or not a thing to say. Somewhere in between.
Yeah, it's good to be home, see your friends and family, eat good food and actually move around in cars.
But there is a lot more to it now than just that.
Cairo is a mess, to be honest. I am not saying I don't like it, I am just saying it's a mess. But then again it has always been one, and somehow it works for her.
But this is a new mess, a fresh mess that none of us is used to it.
The thing is, I can't help but feel like some kind of observer, looking at all that from some kind of distance that is living abroad. Because yeah, it's true, at the end of the day I am going back to Paris in two months, I am not staying through the whole thing, I wasn't there through the whole thing and I can't do anything about it.
Maybe it's a good thing to have distance from the mess, to be able to see things a little bit more clearly, without being too involved in the details that can very much exhaust you and cloud your vision. But then again, I am very much involved in the details of everything, not necessarily by choice, but yeah I am very very much involved in the details.
So, where do I stand now? Somewhere between too close and too far, somewhere between an observer and a participant, somewhere between Cairo and Paris. Somewhere in the middle.
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