Notice of Life

As the title suggests, I am writing to inform the internets that I am still alive. I have been active on twitter during this prolonged period of absence of my blogging-self, so those of you who have been keeping up with my tweets will know what I have been up to. Mostly being social and settling down, that is.

I am still amazed at how life channelled itself as I have always wanted but never imagined that it actually would. I am here, the break with my Jordanian history took place and I started living elsewhere and pursuing what has been my ambition for a long time, but I still cannot wrap my mind around how it all happened and when it started. It’s like a flow of events, now that I look back at it, and there are no dramatic breakages.

Obviously that is not true, because there were several dramatic breakages along my journey here. To this point in my life. But I am numb and I am unable to compel myself to distinguish what happened when and how. I will look back at this marvellous period with awe one day; awe at my ability to distance myself from my own self and look at myself from without, like an observer and not a participant. Awe and wonder.

I have been in the UK for almost two weeks now, I am perfectly settled and I started my program. This time is full of newness; things to learn, ways to think, people to meet, food to cook. I am taking it all in, every last drop of it, because I feel a sense of accomplishment just by being here. I feel that I have successfully overcome the emotional, financial, and social hardships that obstructed my ambitions for years. I feel that I am proud of myself for sticking with myself and for fighting for my future and my present. I feel rewarded.

Lest this turn into a self-congratulatory narrative, I will move on to say that I sincerely apologize for not being around much lately. Obviously I have been quite busy back in Jordan after I got my studentship during the summer; seeing friends, enjoying Amman, being with family, organizing my trip and finalizing travel and accommodation arrangements. And then I left, somehow, in circumstances that could not have been any stranger and started acclimating myself to my new life.

I say strange circumstances, yes, because during the last two weeks of my stay in Amman magical things happened. These two weeks were a surreal chunk of my personal history and gave me memories that I will treasure for the rest of my life. Then on the night before my flight, my brother got into a fight and got stabbed in the back of his head which, needless to say, forced us to stay up all night partially at the hospital with police officers hovering around, and partially at home, worrying.

I hadn’t slept properly for two weeks and not at all the night before my travel, so when I did actually leave home my parents and I were too sleepy to understand that I was leaving. That of course cut back on the amount of tears and softened the heart-wrenching nature of our goodbye. It was like watching a movie, because I really had stepped outside myself during that time. I wasn’t even myself. I was a person leaving home and family after years of struggling to do so, but being incredibly detached about it. I had no feelings.

If I can venture a guess, I think that that was due to the fact that my brain was sleeping at the time. It was probably that, and this survival habit that I have which makes me go numb whenever I really shouldn’t. I think my system is not used to being pumped with too many, or too strong, emotions. It simply puts itself on numb mode and sees to it that it records the littlest details with the utmost care, for replaying later down the road, when the event itself is distant and when it is safe to feel things about it.

Anyway, my brother is fine. He wasn’t badly stabbed, as in he luckily only got a flesh wound, and he got stitched up. 13 stitches I think. But, as you might agree, that definitely was not the healthiest way to say goodbye to Jordan. Going to the hospital at 12 AM, thinking you’re going to identify your brother in a morgue because his friend who called you would not tell you what happened and would only say “do not panic and just come to the hospital,” and then seeing him alive but all bloodied up, then when he turns you see his head awkwardly shaved and crudely stitched up, all of that is not very pleasant when you have a plane to catch in a few hours.

There is much more that I want to write about, but for today I think this post is long and rich enough, even if I say so. I really hope that this would break my silence and prompt me to blog again, because quite frankly, I miss it. How have you been?

Lists, Lists

Whenever I find myself in the unpleasant position of having to make a big decision, the kind that determines major steps in my life, I make lists. I discovered this technique when I was 16 and at the first real crossroads in my life: determining which way to go in high school; the literary stream or the scientific stream.

My upbringing didn’t prepare me for either, really. I always thought that was because I never went to any summer camps largely because my parents couldn’t afford to send me to any, and also because they never bought into the idea in the first place. I am not sure that argument makes any sense now. I loved physics and biology equally as I loved Arabic and English. I hated math and chemistry as much as I resented geography. It was a tough call. So I made my first list.

Status Quo

Now that I am unemployed, I really should devote more time to writing, maybe even blogging. But as with everything else, I am a creature of whimsy. There are no guarantees that I will do what I say or express what I do unless, I suppose, someone’s life depended on it. I doubt you will attach your life to the words of this insignificant, whimsical blogger. You’d be dead by now.

The Race

In my race against the clock (or calendar), I’ve put myself in a state of mind which is exhausting to maintain. Since I will be leaving, and since I have a tower of unread books tucked safely away from dust and humidity in my closets and bookcase, I decided that I must read as many as possible before my departure.

It’s a sort of pleasurable pain, if you will, with the pleasure outweighing the pain by folds. The pain itself is minimal (headaches, stress, continuous calculation of time left, sometimes a tinge of boredom) but the pleasure is immeasurable, acquiring almost physical qualities. The sensation caused by the rapid expansion of my horizon (whatever that is) and the way I can feel my knowledge stretching is second to none. It’s beautiful.

I suppose if this wasn’t a race I’d have been lethargic at some level, I wouldn’t be exactly racing against time but using it. I am not sure which scenario is better, but given the circumstances I don’t have much choice but to accept the race. On your mark, get set, go!

CEDAW: Pseudo Science & Pseudo Care

There’s a lot going on lately in Jordan and the Arab world to tempt one to claw their faces off. But I won’t claw my face off, because I obviously need it.

It seems to me that there is a growing tendency for Jordanian conservatives to pose as pseudo-scientists of late, and this is most evident in their refusal of the CEDAW (Convention for the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination against Women) which, interestingly enough, was not even signed within the last decade (signed in 1992) and was ratified in 2007. The uproar caused by the country’s recent lifting of its reservations on one of the three articles it originally objected to has been quite telling. It sort of opened Pandora’s Box of Medieval retardedness.