MARHABA, YA HALA, WELCOME


Do you like Cousa Mihshe as much as you like Fish and Chips? Are you curently residing in two cultral hemisphers, walking a fine line between what is and is not ok with your teta or mama or any other family member, community or country?
Do you belong to your own cultural party, mixing and matching the best bits of life's mojo juice ? Is your Arabic a bit pigeon but full of good intentions?

If you ancwered yes to one or more of these questions chances are, it's safe to keep reading and you fnd its your perfect cup of tea, or Nescafe ma Halib





Sunday 6 July 2008

Help …I think I’m turning into my mother.

Why else would I become a hysterical clean freak at the thought of my girlfriend’s arrival to London this week to stay with me? Don’t get me wrong. I am not 100 % boho or hippyish in my overall views on cleanliness and all in all I fair pretty well, having been raised by a mother who wont even allow a handbag on a bed or shoes in the house for fear of germs, I know when to use a different sponge for different post party plates, and how to get just the right mix of detergent for a shinny perfect sink but I guess like a lot of part time Arabs who move into spaces of there own , I can occasionally swing either way, switching from Martha Stewart to Neil from the young ones in an instant esp when I live with flatmates who may have differing and slightly more laid back views to mine on the subject.

This easy come easy go approach to cleanliness has always worked out just fine with my life. Friends come and go and I have never given the rate of tidiness and hygiene in the house much thought at all and yet, suddenly, without warning, something different has taken over me with the imminent arrival of an Arab friend. …a kind of stark panic and feeling that the faint tea worn stains in my coffee cups are not Ok. The matt on the floor in the bathroom is doing my head in & gets replaced and the sheets are all re-washed for the second time in one day to get even whiter. I take out books on how to get everything clean using natural products cause I feel bad for the environment and I want everything super shiny and when all else fails I resort to bleach – loads of it, on everything, including the offending tea stained mugs. The irrational side of my Arab brain is worried I just may end up poisoning her or worse still making her feel unwelcome cause my house is so out of order. My rational Arab brain says relax, she will have a great time, spoil her with your cooking, your company, and worry not about the stains in the mugs- she will hopefully be having such a great time who cares.

Perhaps when she arrives, I will say something like… “Welcome to my home and so sorry I didn’t have a chance to tidy up” whilst lying through my teeth. Then again perhaps I won’t. Perhaps I will … blame it on my flatmates and hope that none of them speak a word of Arabic!


big up the Banksy

well did you know...

well did you know...
No pressure then!

list of all the things a part time arab my worry about

  • to que or not que ... that is the question
  • how do I say....
  • how manny cousins do I have?
  • should one say Bleease or Please when in the motherland?
  • not being Arabic enough
  • being too Arabic