The Sting

The Sting

All this loss within a month time.
I felt numb. I was shocked.
I've cried and cried- looking at my mom with her life support.
I saw my uncle, boisterous but then he too passed.
I fed my puppy and then all of the sudden, life abandoned her.
In a blink, the accident and death of my student.
The sting and the wrenching pain,
All four, one after the other.
Deep down I cannot fathom;
Life is but short.


 

The Language

I have been confused these past years. I was literally at loss for words. I have been swayed like a shrimp in the sea, tossed here and there with the different languages that I’ve heard and mastered. Then the ultimate question came one day… what is my heart’s language? I mean the heart language that I can communicate with the intimacy as well as respect to one dear being, to God. As a child, I’ve prayed in Chinese. So my Chinese prayers have terms that define my reverence and submissive spirit.  It would seem that I have inherited the formality of prayer in the Chinese language. Then I started feeling comfortable with a bit of Filipino in my prayers and Bible reading as a young adult.  Filipino is the language that I used to converse, it is a “street” language where I can easily express the joy and sorrow in my heart. It is the language that I speak and joke around with my good friends. So addressing God in Filipino is using a language that seems to express the vulnerability of my heart. Then I switched to English when I moved abroad. It is the language that I read with and compose with the most. It was in schools and academic writing that I’ve fluently mastered this language.

Now in the prime of my life, few days before I reach the 40 status quo, I am still learning another language that would eventually shape my identity.  I do feel that I’m in this cocoon where I will emerge, although, it does escape me as to what I will become. Yet the search remained crucial: how do I speak my heart to God?  My greatest consolation is that, God will understand the slightest sigh that I’ve made in any languages.

The Riddle of Love

 This week the riddle of love began. It started out at the beginning of February when Ahmad celebrated his birthday. Our friends gave him a surprise party. Oh, what a surprise it was for him, to have his friends and family surround him on his birthday. I’m pretty sure he felt special. He was speechless for a minute or two. Unlike me, birthdays in Ahmad’s family is not a big deal. Some years, it just passed without the celebrant noticing that it’s his birthday. Even his mother does not remember any of her children’s birthday nor her own birthday. Understandably, there is no calendar for her to go by.  

Then the ripple of love goes on. Ahmad called me on Sunday morning, checking out with me if we could visit his nephew that night. It was his birthday after all. So, we visited his nephew on his 27^th birthday. We brought a special dinner of grilled chicken, meat and kebab! We had some yogurt and eggplant salad. We brought the sweets “Kinafa” instead of a cake for a contextualized party. Most of all we spend some leisure time with him and his family.

 Every year, I wanted a special birthday too… not necessarily a party. Just the feeling of being loved and thought of on that certain day called a birthday. Of course, I was miserable in my expectations in the early years of our marriage. It was not normal for him to remember. So he made sure that it was in his cellphone reminder.

So  this song just kept playing it’s happy tune in my heart. It goes like, “Show it, share it and give it away. Love will come back to surprise you someday. ‘Cause the love that you give always goes while it’s gone. And the riddle of love goes on and on.”   

365 Days

For 365 days you have been faithful
To guard me against lustful eyes, strangers and fools
I was perplexed, anguished and ungrateful
Those days seemed to be somewhat awful

I felt my wings were clipped and trimmed
As I found myself under your watchful whim
Alone I could not explore, slow down nor scheme
You were like a black shadow looming my dream

You tell me what to do and direct me where to go
You approve how I dress: sometimes ‘yes’, oftentimes ‘no’
You instruct what is appropriate and what I need to let go
I resented that my life is built like a “Lego”

For 365 days you have protected your wife with care
You are a driver, a bodyguard and a husband beyond compare
Perhaps your anxiety is more than I can bear
But dear husband, your love is a gem so rare.

To Future and Beyond

To the future and beyond
Clarity of mind despite the glaring sun
A vision to hold, a territory to roam
A joy and laughter to fill the empty room

To the future and beyond
Faith- to step into the days unknown
Hope- to fulfil even the smallest role
Charity- to give my best to all

A teachable heart to receive from people
A resilient spirit to endure and fight the foe
A bare soul that would always run
To the Creator, to the future and beyond

A reckless song as the wind continues to blow
Friends and loved ones to share my highs and lows
The journey continues on the 37th station road
Soar anew to the future and beyond.

Rice Rolled in Grape Leaves: "Dawali"

Step 1: Pick young tender grape leaves in Spring.

Step 2: Boil meat, either lamb or chicken. Season with salt and pepper.
Step 3: Mix rice, minced tomotoes, minced mint leaves, olives oil, tumeric, salt, pepper and minced garlic. Step 2 may be omitted if minced meat is mixed with the rice.
Step 4: Prepare grape leaves by blanching or boiling them for few minutes to make it easy to roll. Discard water.

Step 5:
Put a teaspoon of rice over the center of the leaf. Roll up and then gather the two sides to the center and then roll completely. Caution: this will test your patience!

Step 6: Place the rice rolls above the meat. Simmer with meat broth for one hour or until rice is cooked. Grape leaves have natural acidity. Season with lemon salt (citric acid) if desired.

A REAL TREAT!!!

A LABOR OF LOVE!

ZAKEE (Delicious)

Village Life

“I want much more than this provincial life…I want adventure in the great wide somewhere…” I sang my heart out with Belle in the movie, “Beauty and the Beast”. Never had I realized that I will have a heart warming adventure in my husband’s tribal village. Two kilometers away from a public school, almost everyone in the vicinity is related to each other.

Life in the village is like living in a close-knit community. Whenever one lacks anything, whether a hardware tool or a cooking ingredient, they don’t hesitate to come to ask their neighbor for it. Yes, I know how upset I felt when someone asked me for eggs, milk, juice, salt, rice, dishwashing liquid, disinfectant and many others to mention. Many times, it honestly unnerved me. Well, you have to know that there is only one store nearby. The other one is 2 km away.

My neighbor is a hard worker, a Jack of all trade so to speak. He borrowed our wood glue and tools several times. After his regular job, he would be seen responding to help people. I saw him the other day pruning our neighbor’s grapevine; then he came by our backyard and started pruning our grapevine! It so amazed me to see him willingly give himself in service to the community. My other neighbor has been serving my old parent-in-laws by carrying drinking water from the well. My sister in law would come to clean the house. I would occasionally receive a plate of dawali (rice rolled in grape leaves), malfuf (rice rolled in cabbage) or homemade Arabic bread. I am so overwhelmed in my heart.

Every now and then, my husband will get a call after work. Sometimes, I am nervous when the phone rings because I am dreading what favor would be asked of us. Simply tired, I wanted and needed my husband to be with me at the end of the day… or even on our day off. Well, it could be anything from someone who is sick or passed the tawgihi (college entrance test), or simply someone who needed a transportation. You see, public transportation is available twice or thrice a day. Therefore, life in the village is like living in an extended family. When they needed us, we hesitate to say no. Indeed, it was an opportunity to help someone. But sometimes, we wished there is no mobile phone. Tsk.tsk… Truly, we give ourselves most when we are giving inspite of our inconvenience.

I was a recipient of community life last Saturday. Alas, I felt sorry that I have to bother my husband’s nephew in the middle of the day. No matter if he is home; after all, it is his day-off. I do felt like I was imposing myself. I was ashamed. But I couldn’t find public transportation myself. So he had made a 15 km drive for me to reach my destination. Now I understand what is it like.

As my 23rd month in the village life unfolds, I guess I am starting to get a grip of what community life is all about. We have lived in a private and cloistered life- nothing is wrong with that. Yet, it is a closed lifestyle where people only come on an appointment; when we received and prepared for them. When we lacked, we sucked it out because we don’t want to demand from someone. Life in the village is like an open space for people to come and go. Indeed, it is a space where people come and visit in the news of even the slightest illness. Or for any event to say congratulations: when someone leave and comes from Hajj; or whenever someone passed the high school exams, or whenever someone bought a car, then people will come. They will flock over like swarming bees. They will never leave you alone, in sickness or health. Well, that is the meaning of a community; it is a life of give and take.

Perhaps, there is more beauty in this provincial life.