A Mosaic covered House

The Journal Gazette did a write up about a house in Los Angeles that is truly one of a kind.  I have always liked mosaics and eventually I will try to do one. Aziz and Louise Farnam from Iran began gluing tiles to the outside of their bungalow 13 years ago.  They were inspired by the tiles and lavishly decorated mosques from their native country.  I have to admit when I went to Morocco the tiles there were awesome. I would love to see what the inside of this house looks like.  

Hmmm this gives me an idea...What I would like to do is put some decorative tiles around the front door of my house. This is something that they do in Morocco and I really liked the idea, especially if you live in a place where all of the houses resemble each other. 

What started out as a hobby exploded into this unique beauty. 

Once the first mosaic was put in place the couple began scrounging around for more tiles, plates, and figurines.

                       The pictures came from experiencingla.com

Two Girls, a camera, and getting locked in a garden

“Don’t worry, we’ll have plenty of time to take pictures”, I said to Kelly when she and I arrived at the Botanical Gardens that fateful Sunday afternoon.  I looked at the clock on the wall and it was 3:30pm.  We bought our tickets and went inside. I thought that we had an hour and a half to take pictures.  When we went through the doors into the first garden area, the humidity blew into our faces like an oven, which I had completely forgotten about.  Kelly sweats profusely when it is over 70 degrees and she started having a meltdown immediately.  Often she will have two fans blowing on her at work when the air seems stifling.  I could already tell that this adventure was going to be a challenge. I just didn’t know how much of a challenge it was really going to be. 

When I started my blog, Until Morocco, my interest in photography was piqued. I really didn’t take many pictures before that because my camera was a Kodak 110 that cost about $20.00 and it produced very poor quality photographs.  By the time I returned from Africa, the camera was literally taped in various places to keep it from falling apart. I immediately tossed it in the garbage when I returned home. So, I used the camera Aziz had brought with him when he came to America.  Sometimes the button would jam whenever I tried to get a shot of something.  I spent more time trying to take photographs than actually acquiring them.

 

 Aziz noticed how much I enjoyed taking pictures and bought a Canon PowerShot. When it arrived, I claimed it immediately as my own.  It was the most expensive camera that I had ever used and thought that it was great at first.  That is until I started trying to duplicate what I saw others publishing on the internet.  I would have to take on average 10-20 pictures of the same pose just to get one good shot.  Most of the time I was sadly disappointed, and yet I kept trying. 

 

Kelly is a young woman that I work with.  She has thick light brown highlighted hair with big brown eyes and is quite lovely when she is all made up.  She came prepared for a professional photo shoot with a change of clothes and extra makeup. I was surprised to learn that she went to modeling school when she was younger and I didn’t really have to tell her how to pose, which was a relief to me.  We had been talking for several weeks about taking pictures of her for an on line dating site that she wanted to join.   Kelly had been divorced for a while and she wanted some new pictures of herself.  I warned her that my camera didn’t produce the best photographs, but I was willing to give it a try. 

  

We started the photography session in an area that looked like it was from out west.  There was a wall that was painted bright blue with a wooden bench which was surrounded by flowers.  She sat down, tilted her head, and then she smiled. Click. She turned her back to me and then twirled around and faced me, another click.  After going through all of the indoor gardens, we decided to go outside where the air was much cooler and Kelly wouldn’t sweat so much.  Zoom in, zoom out, sit down, stand up, and twirl, so many poses, so many pictures.  I think that I took about 400 photographs that day and then it was time for us to go. 

 

We hadn’t noticed that there was no one in the garden with us. When we were done, we made our way to the door of the facility. I pulled on the handle, but the door wouldn’t open.  I knocked on the door multiple times.  No one came.  We went back out into the garden to try and find a way out. By this time, I was beginning to panic.   I glanced around and noticed the street.  The gate is surely close by, I thought to myself.  After walking the entire perimeter of the garden, I finally located the gate.  It was padlocked.  By this time, Kelly too, was starting to become anxious.  “What are we going to do?” she asked.  “It figures, the first time I go out on a photo shoot we have to get locked in the place!” I cried.  “Why do things always happen to me?” It was late and, I too, had sweat a lot and was in desperate need of a shower.  The only thing that I could think about was clean undergarments and my strict 24 hour change rule.  I noticed that there was a fence around the garden. However, in some places the fence was very tall and other places it was nearly chest high.  “Kelly, I think that I can make it over the fence. Once I get over, I will help you.” I told her.  There were spikes on top of the fence.  One slip and I would have an extra hole somewhere in my body, for which I was not too keen to have.  Carefully, I swung my leg over the fence, while holding on for dear life, and gently placed my foot on the other side being careful not to touch the spikes.  Then I swung my other leg around. Once secure, I jumped onto the grass. What a relief.   “Ok, now it’s your turn.” I said.  Kelly hesitated. She was wearing very tall wedged bottom shoes, which were very unstable. When I was growing up we called them platform shoes.   She kept looking around for a better place to try for her escape.   Unexpectedly, a man came out of the back door beyond the padlocked gate.  “Hey!” I shouted, “My friend is still locked inside.  Can you let her out?  He looked at us in disbelief.  “Where were you five minutes ago before I climbed over this fence?”  I demanded.  The man insisted that he had checked the garden before he locked the door.  We knew better.  He must have poked his head outside the door and then went right back in. Once the gate was unlocked, we thanked him profusely.  I called my husband and told him all about our ordeal.  Then he met us at the Hilton Hotel for more photographs.  You would have thought we would have given up after that ordeal. Like the paparazzi, all I thought about was the next shot. 

Women Majlis Painters in Saudi Arabia: Making the Center of their Homes Beautiful

In Asir, Saudi Arabia there are women who paint the majlis (the parlor of a Saudi home, the room where the guests are taken) with beautiful patterns of lines, squares, figures, triangles, and numerous oddities on the walls around the entire room.  At first glance, I thought that I was looking at something that would have been created by Native Americans, they used many of the same designs in their artisic creations.  I am mesmorized with the intricate geometric patterns and bright colors which are used in the Arab home.  They speak to me about the inhabitants of the place and it should. Women in general thrive being surrounded by beauty. About 40 years ago the women didn't veil that much and many made a living as a majalis, going from home to home making each one beautiful.   Can you imagine doning an abaya, hijab, and gloves to be able to express yourself artistically?  Yet many women do and I say a "big" bravo to them.  The Arabic term for these kinds of paintings are called nagash in Asir, Saudi Arabia.

Before commercial paint arrived in the area about 75 years ago, the women used natural sources for their colors.  Brown came from the sap of the somgha tree, which in spring the color was light brown and in summer and winter it turned dark brown. Rocks were crushed and the dust was used for various colors and certain mountains in the area have yellow stones to make a yellow-gold color.  I can almost bet that spices and vegetables were used for colors as well, such as turmeric for yellow and beet juice for a berry color. 

According to Wikipedia,  “Some of the large triangles represent mountains. Zigzag lines stand for water and also for lightning. Small triangles, especially when the widest area is at the top, are found in pre-Islamic representations of female figures. That the small triangles found in the wall paintings in ‘Asir are called banat may be a cultural remnant of a long-forgotten past.” In a recent article from Saudi Aramco World,  Fatima Abou Gahas and Um Abdullah are two women who are famous for their Nagash paintings.  Fatima passed away a couple of years ago, she was believed to have been close to 100 years old.

Preservation of this wonderful art is currently being attempted. A Cooperative of about 20 women has opened and the nagash paintings are being revived for future generations to enjoy.  Personally, I really love art and I am all for it being kept alive. 


Abha Palace Hotel, Saudia Arabia, One of Fatima Abou Gahas Final Works of Art



The Photographs come from aljsad.net

Room for Hope: An evening learning about Palestine, art and cuisine

Last night, I attended an event called Room For Hope, Images of Courage and Redemptive Suffering in Contemporary Art along with a food sampler of Palestine. Just by chance I heard it advertised on NPR.  I thought that this would be a good way to learn more about Palestine.  Michael Spath was the guest speaker, who is a professor at IPFW, and has been to the Holy land many times.  

Here are two of the lovely hostesses in traditional Palestinian dress.  They explained what each dish was to the guests.

Delicious sweets with nuts and dates

Traditional grape leaves filled with meat

Kibbe is an appetizer filled with ground lamb and Bulgar wheat served with yogurt sauce. ( I ate three of these, they were delicious)

There were pastries filled with cheese, oregano, and spinach.  The ladies spent hours cooking for this event.  My hat is off to them for all of the hard work.

There was Hummus, Baba ghannouj, Tabbouleh,  Arab salad and many more items to choose from.

                The exhibit will be on display until the end of November.



Arab Spring by Taleb Dweik

There were several artists promoted in the exhibit: Taleb Dweik, Asim Abu Shakra, mona Hatoum, Sliman Mansour, Ismail Shammout, and many others. This art exhibit alone is worth the trip. 

Location:

The First Presbyterian Church

300 W. Wayne Street

Fort Wayne, IN 46802

260-426-7421



Finding Nouf: A Story of Bad Intentions

I've recently finished the book Finding Nouf by Zoe Ferraris.  Finding Nouf is a story of murder, religion, culture, and intentions.  Islam is ever present in the lives of the characters of this story. Nayir ash-Sharqi is a desert guide but is called by the family to lead a search party for Nouf, a girl of sixteen, who eventually was found dead by desert travelers.  She had everything going for her.  Her family was rich and she was about to be married. Why would someone want to kill her?  Life between men and women are separate.  Women are covered from head to toe, remaining a mystery to the male members of society. Nayir meets up with Katya Hijazi, who works at the coroner's office. Together they solve the mystery of Nouf's death.

I feel that the story is more about intentions and how painful life can be for those who are wronged.  Desperation can cause seemingly good people to do very bad things.  When Katya told Nayir that she would marry someone so that she could have the freedoms for which she longed for, it struck a chord with me.  This kind of thing happens all of the time in our world.  Heartless acts of desperation with no care for the innocent victim they have ensnared.  This is a good book and is well written.  I am currently reading her next book called City of Veils. 

Will how I dress cause me to go to hell?

I just recently read an article about religious clothing.  Many little girls are forced to wear a veil in Morocco so that they will not be harassed. One little girl's mother said that she needs to get used to it while she is young, otherwise she will go to hell.

We have this same kind of thinking here in the states.  There are Amish people, penecostals, and Jews, while there are probably many more groups that I cannot think of at the moment. Each group believes that they are the "chosen ones". Aren't we all chosen?  I have been told that if I didn't wear a dress or skirt all of the time I, too, would go to hell.  Really? Oh no, you cannot wear makeup either. Why do women have to sacrifice so much in this life?

Do you think that God\Allah is so concerned about our outward appearance that we would be sentenced to a life of torment?  Maybe this is hell already.  We seem to go to extremes to try and please God.  What about our hearts?  What about living a pure life, where we try to be "good"? I just don't understand people.  We are supposed to be individuals.  Yet we live our lives according to what "they" are doing or live how "they" say we are to live.  Do you understand what I am talking about? We rely on religious leaders to guide us.  Yet we have the same connection to God\Allah as they do. 

What we wear really has nothing to do with the next life.  Many times it is a prideful thing.  You are saying, "look at me, I am religious, I have a connection with the Almighty".  What are your thoughts?   

Sambusa

I love to make Samosa's, Sambusa's or egg rolls as we call them here in the States. I found a very tasty version from Saudi Arabia.  It is easy to make and is often made during Ramadan.  I tried to make them with a dough recipe but found it too frustrating to make.  I even went to the kitchen gadget store to buy a samosa maker. The dough stuck to the gadget and created holes.  So, I decided to use egg roll wrappers instead.  They turned out very well.  Next time, I am going to try using a pie crust and see how that works out.  Anyway, the flavor is wonderful. 

 

Ingredients:

 

3 tsp vegetable oil

1 lb of ground meat

1 cup of chopped onions

Salt/pepper to taste

1 ½ tsp turmeric

1 cup of chopped Italian Parsley or ½ cup each parsley and cilantro

1 cup of chopped green onions

1 package of egg roll wrappers

Oil for frying

In a large non-stick pan or skillet brown the meat over medium heat until it is cooked through.  Next add the spices and saute for a couple of minutes. Then add the chopped onion. Sauté until the onion is translucent.  Take off the heat and add the chopped green onions and the parsley, mix well.  Set aside to cool.  Pull out the egg roll wrappers and place about a soup spoon in one of the corners and fold up like an envelope.  See directions below.  Place a medium to large pan on medium to high heat, add enough oil to deep fry the sambusa's.   When the oil is hot, put 3-4 egg rolls at a time in the pot. Fry until they are golden brown.  Serve with salad.  Enjoy!

 

How to Fold Egg Rolls

Lay the egg roll wrapper on the counter in front of you with one of the corners toward you. Think of the corners (from top to bottom and running clockwise) as north, east, south and west.

Imagine a line from west to east. Put some egg roll filling just below the line, making sure to leave enough room towards the edges, so that the egg roll can be folded.

Fold the south corner straight up, partially covering the filling. Bring in the west and east corners to the center. The fold for west and east should make the sides of the egg roll perpendicular to the bottom. Tuck the filling into the pocket you just created.

Brush butter on the north flap. Bring the north flap down over the pocket and seal it over.

Alifa Rifaat's Short Stories of Women

I have just finished reading Distant View of a Minaret by Alifa Rifaat. It is a collection of 15 short stories about women. There are stories of love, death, fantasy, and frustrations of everyday life.  As I read, I felt as though I were one of the women who struggled to survive life.  Men's rules and selfish desires made it hard for women to live a fulfilling life, this is the focus of the author's stories. I felt that many of the women resigned themselves to how things were and patiently waited for death, hoping that their next life would somehow be better than the one where they reside currently. 

The story called, The Kite, was the most inspiring.  It begins with Widad, a widow, who has just risen from sleep to the voice of the Muezzin calling for morning prayers.  After her husband passed away, the chickens were her only companions in life, whom she knew each one and it's characteristics. She would have endless conversations with them.  When she was young, Widad loved a young man named Mitwalli.  He felt love for her as well, but Widad's father married her off to another man.  Years later they meet again.  Mitwalli still wanted her.  Widad was waiting for death.  During a dream Widad saw here life with Mitwalli and it was a good thing. She decided, Why not? Sometimes we are given second chances. This is not a new book but one from the 80's.  Stories are a good way of causing you and me to think about life.  It is a good thing.

Kacem El Ghazzali: REBEL

Living blindly is how a majority of the population goes about their daily lives, especially when it comes to religion.  We believe the things that our parents taught us without giving much thought to the validity of their beliefs.  Religion has been passed down from generation to generation for centuries. Most believers never challenge their beliefs or are afraid to.  Many times I was told to just believe and have faith when things didn’t make sense to me. Besides, good upstanding people believe in the religion of those that came before them, but not so for Kacem El Ghazzali.  He is Moroccan, but a displaced Moroccan.  He is now residing in Switzerland where he has found freedom.  Kacem is once again feeling the pressure from fellow Muslims in his new homeland. He has asked that those in authority to help him find a place to live away from those who are threatening his life.  Yet the people who are wanting his demise must feel threatened in some way because of his vocalized opinions.  

I talked to Kacem several years ago when I first started blogging.  He was a teenager and very passionate about his beliefs.  My then husband tried to talk to Kacem but the conversation ended in frustration.  Kacem was reprimanded for his unbelief.  I, however, continued talking with him.  I agreed with his point of view and encouraged him to stand up for his convictions. However, there isn’t any religion that encourages apostasy. Sometimes death can be the outcome for such a person.  I am not an atheist, but I do believe in freedom of choice when it comes to religion, whether it is practiced or not.  The threat to others is when one is brave enough to say, "I cannot believe this anymore." 

Arab Spring and Women's Rights: Are We There Yet?

Al Jazeera talks to author Amal Al-Malki about Arab Spring and women's rights.  She feels that Arab Spring has failed women. Arab women have traditionally been portrayed as voiceless and invisible, even in the media.  Women are only seen in Arab Media 1\5 of that of men. In my opinion, this is still a man-run world and will always be that way.  Even here in America, high positions in a majority of companies are held by men. Although there are two Women Presidents in Africa, women's rights are still being held hostage in Arab and African countries. The only thing that Arab Spring did for women is to expose their lack of rights and equality.



This video is from Aljazeera web site and I found it to be very interesting.

Misogny = Hatred of Women

Yesterday, I came across an article titled, Why Do They Hate Us?, written by Mona Eltahawy.  She is an Egyptian-American columnist.  In November, 2011, Egyptian police beat her, breaking her left arm and right hand, and sexually assaulted her.  She was detained by the Interior Ministry and military intelligence for 12 hours.  Her article focused on the hatred of women by the Arab world.  Her story begins with a story written by Alifa Rifaat, Distant View of a Minaret. As I read the story, I realized that my life had mirrored that of the wife.  My experience was certainly not the only one, nor will it be the last. Sexual satisfaction is not just his right but her right too! Women the world over are second class citizens, especially in the Middle East. The United States has problems with women too. We are looked at as sexual objects, rather than living rational beings. There is abuse, neglect, rape, murder, and a host of other things that women must endure in our society. But life here is by far the best that the world has to offer. We have our freedom. We can have jobs. We do not need to marry in order to survive. We can choose to have children or not.  We can live on our own without any worries. The Middle East is a century behind in the rights of women. It was at least 100 years ago that women were allowed to vote in this country. We are given equal rights to property.  We can travel alone and drive cars. Oh how lucky we are! I feel for these women. A southern man describes his helplessness in this situation on the Foreign Policy web site.  He says that now he is aware of the problem but doesn't have the resources to rescue one. Isn't that is what men are supposed to do?  Rescue us from a miserable situation and bring us to his castle. At least, that is what the fairytale is. 

Click on the link above and watch the video to see what this Egyptian-American woman has to say about women's rights. 

Music that soothes the soul or makes you want to shake your hips

Since I have started taking belly dance class, I have come to really appreciate Arabic music, especially Moroccan.  My teacher would play CD's with the most amazing music while we learned how to move like a belly dancer.  I finally got of the courage to ask for a copy of the CD.  Once she gave me the CD, I listened to the music all of the time. Then I came across a song that was the most sensous sounding song I have ever heard.  What was it's name? I asked the teacher and she didn't know.  I would try to move very slowly and deliberately while listening to this beautiful music.  After weeks and weeks of looking, I gave up.  One evening, I had my family over and was playing the CD while we ate dinner. My brother's girlfriend said I know that song.  Really?  She told me it was from the CD Moroccan Spirit and the song is La Mamounia, which is a restaurant in Marrakech. This is not traditonal music by no means, but it does have some traditional sounds to it. I ordered the CD and have listened to it daily since.  This is a very relaxing CD and,well, I just love it. I take it to work, along with many others, and listen all day.

I received this CD on Saturday and it is the best traditional Moroccan music I have heard to date. I enjoy the singing, the drums, oud, and finger cymbals.  Some of the songs are worshipful and some are remixes.  I really like this CD and will be listening to it for a long time.  I found a copy of this at my local library and loved it.  So, I had to add this to my collection.  It is called The Music of Morocco in the Rif Berber Tradition by ARC Music.  Listening to this kind of music brings me back to Morocco.  Who knows, maybe I will be visiting again. 

Wadia Boutaba a New and Upcoming British\Moroccan Artist

Wadia Boutaba was born in the UK but her roots are from Morocco.  Her parents are from Nador in northern Morocco.  Although she is British by birth she likes to call herself the Moroccan Artist.  You can view some of her work on Facebook

With a degree in Textile Design Wadia began painting again while on leave from work after having her first child.  Her husband, who is also Moroccan, encouraged her to show her work to the public.

The news media has focused on the negative aspects of Muslims and through her art Wadia wants the world to see that they are not all bad people. 

I like her style, it is simple yet lovely.  She has received a good response to her art and looks forward to what the future may hold.

Why would a grown man want to marry a 9 year old little girl?

I have just read the book, "I am Nujood, Age 10 and Divorced."  I saw this book in the book stores a couple of years ago.  Now I have decided to read it.  Long story short this book is about a little girl whose father arranged for her to get married when she was 9 years old.  There are many factors which would drive a father to marry off their daughters at such a young age: poverty, local custom, and lack of education.  Nujood's family is from Yemen and marrying a young girl has been going on there for generations.  There is a tribal proverb that says: "To guarantee a happy marriage, marry a 9 year old girl." By the way, Nujood's husband was 30 years old.  What can a grown man have in common with a child of nine? I felt very sad after reading this book and nearly cried.  I just don't understand the thought pattern here and I kept asking myself why. I know that they want to ensure that children will be born to them in the marriage but oftentimes at the peril of the mother.  A child will not be as developed internally as she should and faces serious injury or worse.

Picture comes from National Geographic

Nujood shattered a taboo. This child's story traveled around the world.  Her courage to seek a divorce from an abusive man three times older than she, gave other girls the courage to stand up for themselves too. In February of 2009, the Yemeni Parliament finally passed a new law raising the legal age of consent for marriage to 17 for both boys and girls.  I wonder if this law is enforced?  I doubt it very seriously.

Traditional Dance of Afghanistan

Ever since I have started learning to belly dance, I have been fascinated with dances from all over the world. Just recently, I came across some videos on traditional dances from Afghanistan.  One of those dance forms is the Attan, the traditional Afghan dance. Attan has long been performed at weddings or other celebrations throughout Afghan history. Many consider it the national dance of Afghanistan, but it’s a part of Afghan culture that many in the West rarely see. The news media seems to focus so much on the bad in a culture that we rarely get to see the good.

This picture came from here

There is a dance troupe called Ballet Afsaneh, which formed in 1986 when the taliban put restrictions on art and culture.  They are based in San Franciso, California and perform in venues and festivals all over the world.  

 This image is from here

These women want to keep ancient traditional dances alive.  The group consists of women from various nationalities and is not just limited to women from Afghanistan.

 

One of those dance forms is the Attan, the traditional Afghan dance. Attan has long been performed at weddings or other celebrations throughout Afghan history. Many consider it the national dance of Afghanistan, but it’s a part of Afghan culture that many in the West rarely see.  These women are taking it upon themselves to break down stereotypes and to keep ancient traditions alive.

How not to get punished for being a woman

I have just discovered a program called Amnesty TV.  This program is from the UK and comedian Shappi Khorsandi is in this clip. They have little spoofs on everyday life in various countries. This little clip talks about life in Saudia Arabia for a women. Some of it is exaggerated I am sure but not all of it. 

Women are just now able to vote and drive cars.  I'm for equal rights of women and children.  It was about 100 years ago (1920) that women were given the right to vote in this country. Muslim countries are about a century behind in just this one area, much less other areas of life. 

Mutawwa'in: Saudia Arabia's Vice Squad

I am currently reading a book called, “In the land of invisible women” by Qanta Ahmed.  I am nearly finished and have found this book to be very fascinating.  She is an English Muslim, who is a doctor, which suddenly finds herself in Saudi Arabia.  Even for a Muslim, Saudi Arabia is a place that can be scary and intimidating, especially for a female.

This brings me to my subject:  Mutawwa’in. Their official title: The Commission for the Promotion of Virtue and Prevention of Vices. These men are the religious police that scour the city looking for religious offenders.  You know, looking for those folks who are going against their interpretation of Sharia Law.  Anyone that is engaged in homosexual behavior, prostitution, eating pork, drinking alcohol, not wearing an abayah or your veil or hijab is not on correctly could be in serious trouble.  If a store is found operating during prayer time and the “police” find it open, then it is forced to close.  Some people are beaten, taken to jail, or even deported (if an expat).  Qanta Ahmed was in a situation where she was at a dinner and both men and women were eating together.  The women were uncovered.  Somehow the Mutawwa'in found out and the place was raided, so to speak.  She was scared for her life along with her companions.  After much to-do, Qanta was escorted safely back to her living quarters.

I like the fact that here in the U.S. we are given the opportunity to accept or reject a way of life, a religion or whatever we choose.  I try to live my life like the Almighty is watching me all of the time, and He is.  I think that "He" is enough of the religious police that we need.  Do you have any thoughts?  I am open for discussion.

The picture is from here