A Translation: Great and on Time

Ever since I learned Spanish and started translating ,  today was the first time I turned in a paid translation and on time.

all the translation jobs that I did before were voluntarily and not paid. Most of them were not serious. They did not lack good grammar or good structure but they did not teach me anything discipline-wise.

This time It was actual work with actual money and we had to deliver it to the original writer who studied in Spain many many years ago, so he could not translate but he could edit and he said that the translation was great!

The day before we turned in the translation I worked for 15 hours straight! I even took out my sandd clock, each time I flip it , it gives me 5 minutes and I was as fast as the sand.

Now as the translation has been turned in and the money paid and the sand has settled (hehehe this is funny, the sand in the clock as well) I feel good about my level. Getting to translation has always caused me a situation of ultimate paranoia, because it is something extremely important to me and it is one of very few things in the world that I cant accept being less than PERFECT in. I remember the step back I used to take while facing a translation fearing that I might not be bale to finish it or -even worse- not be able to accomplish it.

But when I look at this job and I find that I translated a really hard historical text , and from Arabic -which is my mother tongue- to Spanish -that is my FOREIGN language- I find myself relaxed and confidence.

I have a feeling that I am unbeatable and therefore I am waiting for the net job with sincere eagerness. 

One Plate for Two

Well , I dont know what exactly to share, what to document for this specific day, but yet I dont want to forget it because it was nice.

Today a friend gave me a poem, he said that it is dedicated to me, although it was not ABOUT me. I tried to understand why was it dedicated to me, why did I get to decide its title, yet I believe that this is for the days to decide.

What I like about the new me (a recent concept that I am having concerning my ownself) that I got the ability to wait and meditate ,,, and just leave the world take its course while I sit back and write about it.

I am Thankful for the things you said on my behalf

Today after class I felt the urge to eat cup cakes!! A sudden urge that I rarely fulfil, but as we were in Isra's car (a girl from my class) she drove us to a cake shop and I went in to buy with Manal (another class mate from Ghaza).

I looked a couple of times at the guy who was attending us and I felt I recognised him , I then asked him: is your name Odai? he said: yes, how did you recognise me? and I was like: we all know, I for myself I love you! And manal - who has recently arrived to Jordan- was stunned , she did not know that this guy was Odai Abi Issa the guy who was arrested after burning the kings picture in Madabam she though i was suddenly flirting with a random guy hahahaha.

I was a bit embarrassed to be face to face with one of the 7irak guys. I always feel guilty that they are the ones who go out to the streets every Friday demanding our rights on our behalf. They get chased, bit and arrested for us and we dont even thank them or support them.

It was a great treat of the evening to see his fair face and smile... I just hope, deeply hope that we will get to reform our own country without young guys like him being arrested and attacked by Baltajyye ,,, I hope we pay the least price possible and not lose the few things that we accomplished as a young country. Ya rab 

Orientation in my new place: Jordan Media Institute

Well Well Well .... I think I am liking it, I signed the contract and now I am tied down, so I might as well enjoy the ride.

Belonging: My Little Corner of The World

Today I went to Dr Huseein's office to show him translation. We did not actually read through my Arabic text but he answered some of my main concerns in translation.
Basically my concern about being faithful to the original text. He talked thoroughly about how we can deceive the text for its own good, because if we worry too much about the literal translation we might simply ruin the message of the text.

He talked to me about translation in general , translation of Quran ,,, we even got to talk about faith and E3jaz and our responsibility as translators to show the world the treasures of Arabic poetry.

I had to wait for him for a while so I just sat down in his office translating silently while Dr Moayyad worked on the other table. I looked at the scene and I was happy , we were three Huspanistas in one room , two with Phd's and loads of research papers and me , the Me that is going in this direction with my heart full of passion and faith.

I thought: Would I -in some lucky and wild scenario- end up in the same office many years from now, but being the doctor? Ahhhh ,,,, my heart floats upon a lake of joy.

A translator is a martyr  ... a person who keeps running between two shores ... a translator is a person who is worthy of their oxygen. 

New Banner

No quiero bajar de mi columpio ,,,, quiero que

 siga meciéndome hasta que el mundo desvanezca 

Contra El Viento: El Primer Libro in Castellano Desde Hace Mucho Tiempo

Este blog empezó mucho antes de que yo tuviera el nivel suficiente para escribir entradas en español, y lo estoy pensando estos días para seguir en contacto con el idioma lo mas posible.

Acabé este libro tras una largo jornada intentando. Lo había prestado de la biblioteca del Cervantes , leí un capítulo y luego tenía que devolver el libro. Y aunque no lo devolví pero ya me entraron las angustias del ''libro retrasado'' hasta que se me ocurrió un día buscarlo en internet y lo descargué en mi kindle.

El libro contaba la historia de una mujer de africa que viajó a Europa buscando la vida y como pudo traspasar las dificultades de su realidad para sacar a delante a su hijo y a si misma también.

Había párrafos en el libro que yo hubiera escrito si mi pusiera a escribir sobre mi experiencia en Europa, los momentos en las que uno se da cuenta de que es diferente y de que se destaca fácilmente entre las multitudes.  También cuando hablaba de su amor a su novio que mas tarde se convirtió  en su peor pesadilla me daba un momento para parar y pensar. Con la edad que tengo aun tengo la oportunidad de elegir bien , la oportunidad para  ser feliz, equilibrada y libre hasta siempre.

Era un buen libro y merecía la pena (con las docenas de vocabulario que he sacado del diccionario)

The First Drops of Rain: Generous September

Yesterday Dana and I repeated last year's trip of September to Jordan street, and while there it rained a tiny bit ,,, those drops were it but am waiting for winter with all my heart ... I miss rain. 

Leo: The Death of a Pet or a Friend?

Two days ago I was talking to my Mom about Leo. Leo is Andres'es dog. The only dog in my life, I literally stated to Mom -in that unthought conversation- that I missed him and that am planning to see him , especailly him when I go to Spain.

Today I read a post written by Ana , and she was saying good bye to Leo! Leo simply died! He was old already but as we always do , we think that the souls that we love are never gonna leave us.

The news left me a little bit shaky, I wanted to see him at least once more and feel his fur and his warmth. The pounding of his heart inside a chest that does not belong to a human being was a whole new experience for me, he taught me something ... I did not love dogs, I did not see a human perspective in pets ,,, they were animals but I did not know that they can be friends and in the few times that I dealt with him he was generous to me, he was nice and he came closer to me not caring about my negative vibe and he won my heart.

It turned out that the dogs thing is not only for spoiled superficial people, dogs DO change you ..

I will miss you Leo ...

Amman Book Fair: A Breeze From That Direction

Yesterday I went to Amman International Book Fair. I came back home really happy, I enjoyed every bit of it and it gave me that adrenaline rush that I usually get while being around books and writers.

I thought of those ideas as I wandered: 

- Books are not supposed to be neat: 

I thought of this as I passed by a pile of books printed in Baghdad. It brought back memories ... Well not memories , because you cant remember things that you have not actually lived, but the Jordanian students who studied in Iraq always described little dusty shops in narrow streets, where they bought used books with the actual handwritings of their former owners. So I enjoyed the fair and everything, but I know that ''books shopping'' has to be a little bit more dusty than what we have now. 

- Nawwaf is the Best Book Shopping Companion:

We were as happy as a couple of puppies in a green meadow. We were so happy , I dont recall being as happy in a long time. We stopped infront of shelves and tables and he commented the writers, criticised the contents and we made loads of fun commenting the prices (he was almost broke, and I was getting there hehehe). He has read most of the important titles, and he has a general idea about almost everything (No Exaggerations Included) but yet he was like: do you really want this book? and I would be like: yes yes , then he would say: Ok, then have it. This is an interesting curve in his behaviour, maybe I should make a post about it (wait for it).

-When You Expect En Awkward Situation , It Stop's Being That Awkward: 

I was there with Sara, her work colleague Shurooq and Nawwaf. It was socially awkward in the best of all ways :) 

-When I See A Famous Face I Become Hostile In a Way: 

When I was standing next to one of the stands I saw a well known Jordanian female writer. I recognised her but I did not say anything, then a girl who was by my side started a very simple conversation that goes like this '' are you Flane el flanyye?" and the writer was like yes yes, and the girl said Oh I hope i had your book on me , I would have loved to have signed by you , I read all your work , pretty amazing. They both smiled and then they went away. Why could not I just make that conversation? Well , a tiny confession, I hate to be not remembered and I know that those conversations tend to be forgotten , so ^_^ 

-The Love of My Life Must Have Something To Do With the Books Industry: 

A Lebanese gentle man was representing an editorial (Dar Al Saqi) and he stood there explaining to three guys about a novel , then the other and then the other. He was describing the novel in a very neat way that showed that he has actually read all the books and he talked about them as if they were friends or family. He mixed Lebanese accent with very neat classical arabic. I was dazzled and I bought a book. 

Nawwaf made fun of me, he said I bought the book because of the guy. I could not exactly contradict him :p

I remember the guy who sold me a book in Central Bookshop in Barcelona. I would never forget that face, that firm and tranquil smile as he put down the book he was reading, he gave me the book and the ticket and asked me to come back again. (Oh Dear lord, what i would do to be back in el Barrio Gotico de Barcelona!) 

-Coffee People are Different from Non-Coffee People: 

We - people who drink coffee- start considering the possibility of finding coffee as soon as we arrive to any new place. So, when we were done with the book shopping (or the money actually) we went out and we had coffee and a smoke. It was nice. Smooth and full of short encounters with people from the past, I ran into an old friend who used to write in the same magazine with me, so he presented me to a friend who was with him as the ''novelist'' Takwa Masadeh. That was huge after all that time -6 years since I published the novel- and he asked me if I had anything on the way and Sara was like ''Deaaaaar Lord yes!'' .... I love how Sara reproaches me about this specific thing ... I got energy ,,, I should take things more seriously ,,, I should ,,, God , guide me through the maze of my mind. 

The After-math 

Welcome to my little corner of the world. 

P.S: When I ame back from the fair I was full of energy, I wanted to write a huge post about it, but in that moment we had to go visit a relative who had a baby girl. I came back tired and could not write until today. I hate this about my life, time slips by while we are doing erathy stuff ,,, just stuff 

The Little Girls are Off to Granada

This morning my young friends who got Erasmus (11 young ladies) left to Granada at 6 a.m.

I dont know why I did not mention them here although I have been hanging out with them most of the time lately, wither in the university or on a facebook group that I started for their questions about the scholarship and life in general in Spain.

Yesterday I called the entire group one by one wishing them a safe trip. It was weird how the circles of life go. They are still worried about the things that I worried about two years ago and came to realize that they were not the real challenge.

Yet last night I felt a huge burden ,,,, my heart was pressured with the thought that it might be a long time until I get to see Spain again. I start Masters next week and I will be studying and not working , therefor  I wont have money ,,, am not sure If I can go visit them (as we are all planning) and I cant process the possibility that something (wild thing) would happen and forbid me from going.

I miss Spain so bad ,,, I wish we did not have to go through all that hassle to get there,,, no money and no visas and no long long process in offices ,,, I miss my happy place. But I pray all the time for my little girls, that they get the best out of their experience and they get to speak better Spanish than ever.

I Am Thinking About Much

I have not been posting much lately. Later when I browse those days I will feel that -by then- I have not had anything going on, but the thing is that am thinking about much, and there is much stuff going inside my head.

Listen to this piece by Ahmad Al-Khatib. It takes a part of me to the land of no return each time I listen to it.

Cosas De La Vida

وأنا أمرُّ ببابِكِ الموصودِ ،

تمحو ركبتيَّ الريحُ

لا أجدُ الرصيفَ ولا الشوارعَ

كلُّ شيءٍ ضاقَ في معناهُ

حتى تهتُ في رؤياي !!

ن.ر

I wonder why I hate Everybody

I am thinking of making a template out of this entry, so I would just post it over and over again each time I feel the thing that I am feeling now. You know, the feeling of despair and losing faith in humanity after taking a look at Facebook entries ... you just cant believe what people are conversing about , crazy photographers taking pictures of crap and thinking they invented Photography , lousy translators who have no clue about what they are doing and they cant see - no matter how hard they look- that there is a relation between language and culture. Men and aomen describing their shallow love stories with lines taken from poems that they dont even understand ,,, and everyone's constant need to prove to the world that they are living the perfectest life ever.

I feel like crap, why be ashamed with that? Why post a dozen of pictures pausing like a Ho and writing a caption about how much I dont care about the world ,,, well you know something? You not caring is something that we dont care about, and you just cant say that you dont care about me not caring, simply because you posted it and you get an adrenaline rush with every notification.

Facebook , is a parade of weirods ,,, I wish I can flee that 

Raj's Shirt

There is a quote that goes like this: "The real problem with life that it  does not have background music".

 This Shirt of Raj just does it! It puts the music that goes with your situation ,,, would not that be Perfect!

Books Killing me Softly: العمى - خوسيه ساراماغو

I finished reading Blindness by Saramgo.

The book disgusted me , freaked me out and then it made pause and think. I think if the entire novel was to be narrowed down to one idea then it would be "The burden of the world when you are the only sane person while everybody else has gone insane". 

People From Old Prestigious Democracies Acting Like Dictators

Check this picture as it was posted on 9gag.com

http://9gag.com/gag/5059223

It was posted under the title of:

I present: Ridiculously Photogenic Syrian Rebel Fighter

Now here is the thing. Before I started studying languages I confess that I used to be somehow close minded about "The Others". I did not much about their cultures and I had pre-judgements. But after having learned new languages , having mingled with people from a lot of foreign countries and basically after travelling and living in a city where too many international students meet, I have radically changed. 

You just cant meet people, converse with them, eat , laugh , walk and travel with people without being influenced by them. After all, human beings are nice and they connect on a human level that no one can deny. 

Still when you read through the comments that follow such a picture it hits you how ignorant and snobby people can be. It is not that I want the entire world to sympathize with my Arab or Muslim issues, but it just fills me with anguish when people from other cultures fail to see the human aspect of our miseries. 

How can a father or a mother see the piled corpses of savagely killed Syrian children and not sympathize? 

Really! I am not waiting for the entire world to go out on a demonstration against the criminal regime (although I cried infront of   Tv when I saw tha Spanish demonstration in Madrid in support of the Syrian civilians) but it would be so nice if they stopped calling us terrorists. It is not a very hard or controversial case, it is just a dictatorship killing its pacific demonstrators so they had to fight back because everyone has the right of resistance.  What is so terrorist about that? 

But still this is not my point. My point is that western people in general were raised in prestigious democracies, they have always voted in civil elections and got to choose who governs them ,they grew up in an educational system that gives much importance to debate and conversation , that teaches you how to think and how to accept others even if you disagree with them. 

How can people who grew up  in such circumstances act like dictators in a simple 9gag conversation, discarding every argument "the other" has to offer? How can they judge us, judge our cases and our circumstances without even giving us the chance to explain what we are witnessing with our own eyes or through relatives and friends , and through the perspective of any media network? 

If the most civilized peoples of the world are acting this way, and reflecting that on the internet (which is humanity's only way of communication) then where is the hope of a better future?  

My Life is not Mine

A friend once said to me that women live their lives based on a postponed decision. Now I realize that he was not being dramatic and what he is said applies 100% percent to the reality.

Always, in the back of my mind, I know that this is how things are going in the world, it makes me sad at times, but most of the time I try to no focus on it and just get busy with work. But as I am living one of the most boring and life sucking eras of my life it becomes more obvious.

I was just browsing Facebook and I came across a group called "If you love Egypt support it by visiting it" and as I looked at the pictures I saw this picture of Al Azhar. I thought it was a great picture of a place that I have heard much about but never actually got to wonder what does it look like. I thought that I love Egypt and I would like to support it but this is a discourse that is not for me. It is for those who own their lives and their decisions , those who say: "Oh, I would like to see the inside of Al-Azhar" so they just start packing and they go.

It is not because I dont have money , or because I am young (I am not anymore) but it is because I am a woman. I have to ask for permissions for everything, life is never about what I "want'' to do , but it is about whether they will "let" me or not.

I grow old , but it's in vain, because each time I think that I can take hold of my decisions I get a huge bold  hit of reality that I am just a part of someone else's decision (Whether it is my father my brother , or that man that I am gonna end up with).

They dont see it this way at all ,,, they are not conscious of the feeling of disability that takes over my soul just because I can long to things but I cant get them. I know that the solution of rebelling is always present, but I was hoping for a simpler life with the least amount of negative feelings ,,, without yelling at anybody, without having to point out the rotten ideas that people have in their minds while sounding like a smug!

I want simple things ,, nice things ,,, I am not offending anybody , why does my little needs sound so offending to the poeple who are supposed to love me most?

Me in the Mosque after all that time

After I came back from Taraweeh today I realized that it was the first time I ever go to mosque ever since I came back from Spain!

There, I went every Friday and various times through the week, sometimes because I was feeling alone, and sometimes because I thought the mosque is being alone ,,, I used to love that place, It was so safe and happy ,, detached from the emptiness and vanity of the world.

Here in Jordan I never had the tradition of going to the mosque and I think this is something that I should change. It is so nice! Praying with an Imam makes one realize how fast we usually pray! Really, the way he read Al-Fatiha made me feel like I hear it for the first time in my life! He is an Iraqi blind young man -Dad told me so- and his voice is not only peaceful , but it is full of music, he changes scales based on the meaning of the verse he is reading! Just Perfect.


Since the beginning of Ramadan I wanted to go to Taraweeh but remembering the sight of children jumping all over the women's oratorio freaked me out, but alhamdulillah very few children were present today , maybe because Ramadan is almost over?

listen to this video , Shaikh Mohammad Rashad Sharif ,,, the best person who recites Quran -in my humble opinion- :

The Road Not Taken

I dont know if I did post this poem before in this blog, but it means a different thing each time I read it. Actually it means the same thing but it reflects differently on my reality as I grow up and evolve.

Those moments of my life are moments of picking a road. Sometimes I take it way too seriously and some other times I just feel young and capable of making any choices and just living with them because "why not?" ... Everything is possible ,,, Oh Life ,,, Amazing place to be in