Sunday, August 31, 2014

The shepherd


Someone is sitting there alone next to a handful of sheep which are grazing on the single green patch outside a hotel in Hurghada.

Shall I stop by or not? Tact or curiosity? I hesitated this morning for some instants, the wind had cost me some energy, however, the shepherd’s friendly waving encouraged me. I cycled back, put my bike down on the sand and greeted the stranger.

He rose, surprised. The man in the green caftan might be in his early thirties although his sun tanned face is already wrinkled. His eyes gaze emotionlessly, his smile shows discoloured teeth which is typical for the poor here; they never ever see a toothbrush throughout their lives.

I asked politely whether I may take a photo of him and the sheep? Sure, he said, but… he wanted money! Where he was living, where is family stayed, I asked?
In Qena and he was poor. Well, I did see that. Has tourism corrupted him as well? Or is he so desperate that he resorts to begging? This, however, I supposedly will never get to know.





Sunday, July 27, 2014

A coin recounts

Following the present homicidal events in Palestine, we can hardly imagine that once upon a time, there was unity - even in politics. The coin here is a proof:



Yet how far away are we from those days!

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

Who is the owner of the holy land?

Here's a video, that shows in a sarcastic way who became the rulers of Palestine and how he reached that position:



I found this on: Free Arabs

Sunday, July 20, 2014

Butchering in the Gaza strip

This morning, I had already started a text about Israel and Hamas, but soon I deleted it. Yet now, I cannot contain myself anymore:

Only today, at least hundred civilians (that are real human beings: babies, small children, teenies, mothers, fathers, elderly, disabled!!!!) have been wilfully butchered. The pictures show cruelty, they show people seeking shelter in basements. I cannot understand why nobody wants or can stop those lunatics… or should they not be stopped at all? Hamas sacrifices Palestinians and Israel does the same. Do human lives not count at all in politics? Do we live in the darkest middle age? Who gains from this slaughter? Spontaneously, I see: jihadists, especially IS (the new Islamic State that is in my view the next, most serious danger outside of the region). Hence, Hamas is digging its own grave and Israel provokes a savage war.

The attacks are happening in Ramadan, the holy month of the Muslims – this is like our Christmas and Easter. Hundreds of thousands have fled to where ever and several hundreds of Palestinians were killed these days by Israelis.

The Near and Middle East hosts already enough extremist and jihadist-groups and their hateful worriers with Al Qaida, Ansar Bait El-Maqdis, the Muslim Brothers, IS, Jabhat Al Nusra, Hamas and others.

Hate breeds only more hate. How hateful must the Palestinians be with good reason? By this butchering, only more hate will be incited and more bloodthirsty jihadists will be born!
Does nobody really see the danger coming from the Near and Middle East for the adjacent regions? Is the West so happy that all the jihadists bustle in this region and that they have allegedly got rid of them? The shot might sooner or later turn to be a boomerang. Nobody intervenes, to beware Palestinians, Syrians and Iraqis from these extremists – this won’t go well for long. Beware of what lies ahead of us!

Addition:

The ultimate inhumanity show Israelis, sitting outside in the evening, watching rocks bursting in the Gaza strip and cheering them as well as celebrating each dead Palestinian.
How lowlife!


I feel ashamed about the silent Western politicians!

The lost people II


In May I posted an appeal for help. It was about helping the Bedouins living in the Red Sea Mountains after they had lost all their belongings due to the torrential rains in March. Thanks to all of you who contacted Robby Schropp and to all my friends for their confidence and support.

Off the lorry tracks, Robby and the Bedouins built a market place between 2009 and 2011. Here, producers from the interior met with purchasers from the coast who sold cheese, eggs, meat and wool. A huge water reservoir stored the most precious good in the desert.

Before choosing the site, the council of elders was contacted and none of them remembered having seen deluge of water in this area. The site was considered as safe – however, nature decided differently.

Please have a look of what has become the market place:







Whether the site can be rebuilt any time in the future is unclear for lack of funds. If you wish to help, please get in touch with Robby or with me.

Monday, July 14, 2014

The small difference: to act or to look away

Hundreds of Millions of people are watching on TV these days, how 22 men are scrapping over a ball. The event is called World Football Championship and is a huge money factory orchestrated by the media. With the half-finals at the latest, even those fall for it that usually don’t care about this ball game. Everybody watches.

Tuesday, July 8, 2014

Our error

By „our“ I refer to people like me, who grew up in the West with liberal and democratic backgrounds. Therefore, I guess I am not the only one.

By „error“ I refer to all those hopes for a better (Arab) world projected into our minds by the media when the term „Arab spring“ became a meaning. At the latest in November 2010 I started to ask myself how long it would take until the Egyptians would get up jointly to rebel against the dictatorship; now, after more than three years, I feel disappointed and frustrated, sometimes sad. But I am not alone, here as well.

Nostalgia
Egyptians will probably not so soon feel as united, hopeful, proud and happy as they did during the demonstrations after the 25 January 2011 and until Mubarak’s overthrow. Those were thrilling days charged with emotions. Built-up during decades, suppression, fury and anger about injustice and despotism finally found a way out. All Egypt burst with joy and celebrated the alleged triumph. A wave of enthusiasm splashed over the country: streets were swept, garbage was cleared away and at one go with the dead buried, harm was put away.

The huge hope for equity, an honest Egypt and a better live were smashed with specific and terrible events and lay astray like broken fragments after a bomb raid. Today, more than three years later, Egypt is further away from a state of law, democracy and respect for human rights than it was in January 2011. Instead, it is celebrating another dictator and considers him as their saviour.

None of the many of Egypt’s problems have been resolved and none of the people’s demands have been fulfilled. The transitional and elected governments came and supported the regime – yet not the revolution. The revolutionaries are locked behind bars, disappointedly turned their backs, flew abroad or got killed. The state is de facto bankrupt and is being kept alive by foreign financial backers. Are the people too weak?

Saturday, June 21, 2014

The Sound of Silence of the Red Sea Mountains


There it is again, this insatiable longing for landscape: wideness, altitude and void. While the jeep is racing across the sand track and brown, pink coloured and light grey rocks approach, my thoughts linger in the past.

*****

As a young girl, I used to devour books of adventure stories. TV did not attract me. I had my own movies in my mind that I created out of the letters and lines I read: camel trains crossing the Sahara, pilots surviving a crash in the Kalahari Desert thanks to their knowledge, and all those made-up fairy tales about Kara Ben Nemsi… That was my world.

Later then, I saw the „real“ desert: first in South America, then here in Egypt. On my first trip heading from Luxor to Hurghada in a tourist bus, I opened my eyes wide in surprise: there were mountains in the middle of the desert! Unconsciously, I memorised the journey. Some years later, on my second trip in the reverse direction, I recognised the rocks and curves again – it was my landscape.

*****
Robby is steering the Jeep through a narrow river bed, to our left and right rise layers of sandstone in a gentle beige, light yellow and rose on top of each other. Seemingly petrified waves bear up in the silence, betray their treasures and tell their history to those who may listen and look there: corals, fossils and nesting places for birds. Amidst this furnace there is green and flowering: three months after the devastating rain floods last March, the desert is still in full blossom. I’m excited about the coloured flowers, green herbs and bushes. My mates however, are bending over fossil figures in the coral block – 40 km linear distance from the Red Sea shore.

The tread pattern leaves ephemeral traces on the wide open plain. In the distant mist, some Red Sea Mountain Peaks soar; now and then, somehow in the middle of nowhere, stands an acacia. After a while, there stands another one, as if connected to the first one by an underground water channel. Between them thorn bushes grow or there’s only stone desert. The rain has washed away, down to the coast line, all the sand scattered by the wind. The scree and pebbles are left over. Soon, Robby says, the scree and pebbles will sink into the sand and the ground will become soft again.

How long have we been on the road? I’ve lost all sense of time; fortunately. Here, there is no noise, no garbage, hardly any human traces – so why should we care for the time? The sun is high in the sky, the air becomes clearer and we drive into a valley. Granite gleams brightly in the heat, brittle black rock is apparently steadily on the move. Yellow ochre sand lies among those sculptures. We follow the direction of the wadi until we can’t go no further. Robby guides us across boulders up to a little saddle, where we have a breath taking look on more landscape: beneath our feet spread the Red Sea Mountains: rocks, peaks, valleys, rocks, peaks, valleys… westbound to the Nile, southbound to North Sudan. I’d love to continue walking, hiking, further, onwards… Yet, now in summer, it’s too hot, I would not even be able to carry all the water needed. But in winter, it’s possible, at least for a couple of days…

We leave the narrow valley behind us, and head deeper into the mountains… Sometimes the ground is soft and there is wheel spin, however, Robby reliably steers the Jeep back on solid ground.

Asking „stop!“ is what we agreed to halt the car and take pictures; yet Robby reluctantly wags his head. Gradually, he slows down and stops the car behind the sixth or seventh acacia above the invisible lifeline. This is where we’re going to have lunch and a rest, in the shadow of “his” acacia. Within a moment, Robby prepares a barbecue and treats us with cool, fresh salad, grilled chicken, potatoes and vegetables. To our surprise, there is also fresh fruit and tea. Lazing about is not difficult with a full belly and in this heat.

We decamp; roll out of the valley, around a hill, into another valley where the rocks gradually retreat; we’re leaving the mountains, but first, the Jeep climbs a steep sand slope until it gets stuck. We scramble on foot for the remaining meters and up there, we stop breathlessly: we look across the huge sand plane between sea and mountains, discern a slim white line and behind it the vaguely blue glimmering sea. What a final for this day!

*****

And, Robby looks at me questioningly. My answer: There it is again, this longing for landscape that can never be satisfied, but only keeps on growing.


This journey is a day trip by Jeep with Robby Schropp from iQ-onTour. Robby organizes trips and trekking (one-day or several days) as requested for individualists and nature lovers, inquisitive people and outdoor freaks. The trips are organised and conducted meticulously and with much blood, sweat and tears. More details at iQ-onTour.

Some impressions:
















Monday, May 5, 2014

The lost people – appeal for help


In March, it was raining all over Egypt, but mainly in the South. Pictures in internet showed streets washed away and cars enabled to continue. Water was streaming down on the walls inside of newly built houses. As everybody else, I first thought about myself and my belongings stored in a basement – I still can’t believe that they shouldn’t have got soaked just there. I read the reports of Europeans and the damages on their properties. Until Maged, an Egyptian friend reminded me of all those, that do NOT own property! I felt ashamed… and imagined how the cardboard houses would look like after the rain.

credit: Hurghada-Cairo road by Luc Latif

A German friend of mine who has been living in Egypt for almost 40 years, doesn’t talk but does act. One month has already passed since the deluge, the media focuses on El Sisi and the terrorists, and the property owners are repairing the damages. Everything else seems to be forgotten.

Some of the lost people are Egyptian Bedouins. They anyway don’t possess a lot, live in the barren desert with their cattle herds and some families make some extra income thanks to tourism – which is rare these days. My friend – Robby Schropp – knows them. The Bedouins are his friends and partners. When they need help, they turn to him for they can’t count on the government.

If it rains in the mountains, the floods wash away everything on their way: rocks, vegetation, cattle, people, cars and camps. The water rolls as a torrent towards the coast and concentrates in huge puddles and gradually evaporates – it doesn’t drain off anywhere. 

During the last rainfall in March, many Bedouins have lost the little they owned – except for what they were wearing on their body. They need medicine, medical help, cloths, blankets, food, building material, cattle and much more. Just today, Robby rushed into the desert together with a doctor – at his own expense.

I’d like to support Robby’s actions and ask you to help me. We can already buy some medicine for as little as 10 Euro and several blankets with 50 Euro. I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t trust Robby.  Have a look at the pictures of a camp after the rain… 






credit: all photos by Robby Schropp

Those who want may contact Robby here: http://www.iq-ontour.com/home.html or get in touch with me.   

Your donation doesn’t disappear in administration, certification and advertising of a well- known charity organization, but is used directly there where it helps immediately.

Thanks to all of you, who feel addressed and wish to help with a small amount.

Yours,
El Qamar



Sunday, April 20, 2014

Cycling from Hurghada to Marsa Alam

(originally posted on my German blog in November 2013)

I’ve already described the journey from Hurghada to El Quesir twice (here and here). In October 2013, we finally did a two-days-trip to Marsa Alam.

*****

I’m awake even before the alarm clock rings – I didn’t sleep well, as usual, when I have to get up early. A glimmer of dawn is peeping through the curtains; I jump out of bed, quickly grasp my camera and tear open the door of the bungalow. A few steps only take me to the beach, just in time to watch a blazing fireball rise from the sea, dyeing the sky from a pale twilight into a bright red. Overwhelmed do I stand and watch this natural spectacle, listening to the quiet wash of the waves. Can I ever get enough of this?


Yet, I have to hurry, my cycling mate wants to climb the bike at six; so I go back to wash myself and brush my teeth. However, the tap stays dry – do they think here that we don’t need any water at night? – and I help myself with the remaining mineral water.
Moments later I’m standing in full cycling attire in front of the breakfast buffet or rather where it is supposed to be; because there isn’t any.

*****

We finally leave at half past six; the fire ball has metamorphosed into the well-known sun. Temperatures are still pleasant, it’s still cool and we mutely are rolling on for an hour. I need some time to get awake, my legs are tired.



Suddenly, I’m getting aware of anything moving on my right hand side and I give a jerk: a dog is striding silently beside us. Normally, dogs bark and try to catch us – but this one here, it’s a she by the way, seems to have great fun accompanying us! She doesn’t let go, runs on the asphalt or changes the side of the street looking for a better terrain just to keep up with us. I watch her fascinatedly: her forelegs lunge out and her body stretches athletically… 


After a couple of kilometres we stop; I want to give her a biscuit and she gladly takes the refreshment. Yet, we have to go on, it’s getting warmer and we’ve only cycled a small part of the 135 km. We vigorously continue pedalling and the dog joins us, however, she increasingly falls back. She can’t keep up with us any more although she doesn’t give up for a long time. Again and again, I turn my head to see if she’s still there… eventually, I can’t make her out anymore. I’ll possibly never forget this encounter for the rest of my life.

*****

I’m pedalling and pedalling. My legs move up and down, my hands are trying to find another position on the handlebar. The long asphalt line stretches in the sun, bends to the right and to the left, ascends naughtily in order to cling to incredibly steep hills, only to drop down boldly on the other side of the hill. I don’t notice the desert anymore and there’s hardly any traffic. All I can see is this long sordid asphalt line, the countless hills in front of me and the sparkling sea far to my left. 




From El Quesir on, there are street signs indicating the kilometres: Marsa Alam 85km, Shalateen 335 km. Marsa Alam 80km, Shalateen 330 km… I feel as if the distance decreases at slow motion only, whilst I’m pedalling with all my strength. Only much later, actually just before Marsa Alam, we find out that the distances given are inaccurate. The distance between El Quesir and Marsa Alam is 137 km; from Hurghada to Marsa Alam it is in total 270 km.

*****

Does the street really have to climb and fall steadily? Since we’re at the sea! I feel terribly hot and am longing for some cold water. Stupidly, we didn’t cool down our stock of mineral water during the night and I have to count the costs… Cooling form inside is what I wish right now. On the way uphill short before Port Ghalib, I can see a petrol station. “Cold water” crosses my mind. Yet neither in the petrol station shop nor in the coffee shop beside can I get hold of the sought after liquid – although there are piles of boxes full of mineral water outside the coffee shop. The display refrigerators are locked and inside of the coffee shop I can’t find anybody. Well then, yes, it’s Eid El Kibir, the most important Muslim holiday and the guy might be having a nap somewhere… I’m disappointed and climb my bike again.

*****

We pass by the turning to Port Ghalib and I console myself with the idea that tonight, I’ll be sitting there with a cold beer. For now, we roll down to the next plane and climb up the next hill.

I’m so tired that I actually should be falling off my bicycle. Yet the music in my head phones encourages me and as soon as I am on top of a hill and see the next valley ahead of me, I joyfully and boldly precipitate… just to climb up again a few minutes later. At every ascent, I fall back further behind my cycling mate – a clear sign that I’m at the end of my rope.

*****

Suddenly, Marsa Alam is ahead of us. No “Welcome to Marsa Alam” sign, completely unspectacular, almost disappointed we arrive at our goal. We stow away our bikes in the escort car in a side street and I gulp down ice cold coke and water to cool down my working temperature.

*****

We drive back to Port Ghalib where I stay two days while my cycling mate returns to Hurghada.

I frankly admit that the day after, I was so extremely tired, that I didn’t want to move at all but rather sit somewhere or even better: just lounge around. And eat. For two days running, I had two breakfasts and two lunches!

On my way back to Hurghada I honestly wondered how I could have cycled those 270km within two days – it’s still a miracle to me! But I made it and I’m proud of it.


Sunday, March 30, 2014

Overestimated intelligence

(published on my German blog on March 27, 2014)

So he does: El Sisi is running for the presidential elections. Many Egyptians argue that he is very clever and intelligent. Each time, I used to answer that if he was really that clever and intelligent, he would not run for the presidential elections. He may have been a good defence minister. However, this does NOT guarantee that he will also be a good president.

But he does. What a pity. I would have thought him to be cleverer. Sooner or later he will fail. The problems to be resolved are enormous. In addition, he raises too many hopes and once these hopes are deceived, the people will revolt once more.

Finally, if he IS that clever, how come that he is willing to participate in another round of fake elections?

Oh dear, what more Egypt has to face.

Sunday, March 16, 2014

Beat

"Beat" is the short break in the cinema when the second part of the film is being prepared and you've got a chance to buy a drink.

However, I neither mean the first nor the second; please bear with me if I don't post anything these weeks. I'm once again in my homecountry for a couple of weeks and helping out my former employer.

I've got a lot on my mind, including lots of subjcts about Egypt. Yet, we need to be patient, especially myself. Same as waiting for spring to come:



Sunday, March 2, 2014

Sexual Harassment

(posted on my German blog on 19 February 2014)

Several times, I wanted to write about this issue. Why I didn’t? Since in Egypt, it’s an omnipresent issue that the media addresses continuously. So why do I finally write about it? Well, because I’ve been affected myself. Many foreign ladies, who live here in Egypt, read my blog and I beg you: don’t be silent anymore when you’ve been harassed! React, contact harassmap or other organisations! In addition, I call on the men to discourage harassers, to rebuke and to lecture them! Set a good example!

Definition of sexual harassment

Monday, January 27, 2014

Luxuries in the desert

Luxury is something different for all of us; here in Egypt it might signify that a family gets hold of enough food every day. For others, to allow themselves to eat meat once per week, to send their children to a good school or to wear a new jacket on feast days.

Luxury might connote going on a two-weeks-holiday to Rimini once a year, to own a car or to call a yacht one’s own.

Those managers, housewives and other highly committed citizens, who rush from date to date, quickly do their shopping after work, hurry to the gym in order to be at home just in time for the late  news, set their alarm clock for 6am so that they can continue to hurry next morning… All those might declare “having time” as their luxury.

For me, it means to do something at that moment when I feel like doing it. This has really become a luxury good in our consumption stricken affluent society. It’s kind of a liberty that we hardly grant ourselves.

Yet, there is something even rarer to find in the era of technology:

Utter silence
Where can it still be found? Far away from civilization, i.e. on top of a mountain peak. In the sea. In the desert.

I’ve missed this absolute silence since I lost the mountains in the Alps. Here in the desert, I’ve found it again for a moment. To halt… amidst this infinite vastness… to stay motionlessly… to breathe deeply and listen. To listen and take in the absolute quiet: it was a wonderful experience.

I was surprised about the vastness: I underestimated the distance between the Sea and the first rocks of the Red Sea Mountains. In fact, the sand plain extends up to 40 km into the West, before reaching the black, light grey and pink rocks – far enough from the noise of the civilisation.




The one who thinks he will be ready for the uncertainties of the mountains or the desert, just because he can afford the up-to-the-minute brands and technical achievements, might be deceived. Just remember the numerous avalanche victims of this winter. Owning a Barryvox doesn’t protect you from an avalanche or the avalanche death! Just as little as one doesn’t climb a mountain off-handedly, one doesn’t enter the desert off-handedly. Some experience, reason and prudence are necessary in order to be able to face unwelcomed surprises or life-threatening conditions. It is recommendable to engage a specialist, a mountain guide in the mountains and a desert fox :) in the desert.

My long cycling trips on scarcely used highways bestow me somehow with this silence. Yet I felt happier on a mountain bike on the sand tracks (although it does need some stamina)! Hence, just because I was further away from civilization and because there was no sound at all. Just silence.


My luxury.


Saturday, January 25, 2014

25 January – 3rd anniversary

29 dead so far across Egypt. Nice celebration. People think they are celebrating the 3rd anniversary of the revolution. However in reality, they celebrate something rather different, as I noticed in Hurghada today: they hail their hero El Sisy. The men on the photo told me joyfully “We don’t want the Muslim Brothers, we want El Sisy.”

All those people that I saw in the streets this afternoon, seemed so happy and glad. Whereas I felt like crying.


It makes me sad to see how short and small the memories of the people are; they forget what 25 January was about, they forgot the police brutality, they forgot the thousands who died for a real change in Egypt and they close their eyes before the ongoing crackdown on all that are not WITH the regime. We speak about a period of three years only!







Friday, January 24, 2014

Bombings for breakfast, lunch and supper

Here I am, having breakfast and reading the news… in addition to coffee and muesli, internet serves bomb attacks. The most serious one probably occurred at the police headquarter in Cairo. Several people got killed and injured. In addition, the Islamic Museum and its (hardly protected) pieces were damaged.

And the day went on the same way: until now, four bombings have been sparked off. Again, innocents have been killed and injured. Again, the police have arrested hundreds… just any who happened to be nearby, who was graspable. Allegedly, Wael Ghonim’s brother has also been arrested. The police and the army have everything, i.e. everybody under control, everybody, except those that are really dangerous.

Of course, the Muslim Brothers are being accused again. Of course, more hate is being spread and herds of blind and brainless people follow the calls: down with the Muslim Brothers, down with the Americans, down with traitors and spies!!!!

A mob, incited and blinded by hatred (against whom?????), attacked a German camera team today. They can boast themselves for their headlines today and for having something exciting to show to their viewers that are longing for disasters and violence. A documentary about Egypt’s beauties that can already be sensed a couple of kilometres outside Cairo would be far too banal! Well, that’s how the media business works.

Police and army are on top of things. Welcome in the police state of Egypt. Violence breeds more violence – why do the rulers not take it in??? And why do they not learn that sooner or later they will succumb to violence as well?

I do admit, I’m down. Let alone the assault on the German journalists and their dramatic coverage will give another blow to tourism…

All this happened today, the day before the third anniversary of January 25, that day, when Egypt rose as one against the police state and the world rubbed its eyes in disbelief…

What will happen tomorrow???? More bombings?



Sunday, January 19, 2014

بالعربي: Open letter to my Egyptian friends

This is the translation of my "open letter" into Arabic. Many thanks to Sahar and her family for your help!

ابدا بنفسك

اصدقائى الاعزاء
هل تعلمون أنى أعيش فى مصر منذ مدة اتابع الاحداث اناقشها معكم واستمع الى مخاوفكم عن الحياة وعن الوطن لا احد فينا سعيد لما الت الية االامور فى السنوات الثلاثة الاخيرة واشعر باالاسف لكل شى اود ان اقولة لكم من اجلكم ومن اجل مصر كلكم تريد ون ان تغيرو الوطن وتحلمون تغير بلد كبيرة مثل مصر انها وطن 90 ميلون مواطن ومساحتها حوالى مليون متر مربع إنها وطن لشعب ذو مبادى وايمان وثقافات متعددة هناك نقص فى مياة الشرب والطاقة التى تضيع فى التلوث الهوائى ومياة الصرف والمخلفات على شاطى البحر وفى الاعماق هل معنى هذا  أن مصر أكثر الدول فسادا هل تريدون ان نتغيروا على 
الرغم من ذلك لااحد يريد ان يغير سلوكة اذا اردت ان تغير بلدك ابدا بنفسك .

الحياة الاجتماعية تتمحور حول الاحترام .

احترم الاخر ان جيرانك مختلفين عنك ويتصرفون بطريقة مختلفة ماذا فى ذلك لاتتدخل فى شئون الاخرين واهتم بشئونك هل يهم ان يكون هناك طبقة عليا وطبقة صغرى لماذا اتعامل من اهم وا اقل منك بقسوة ونتملق من اهم اعلى منك هم ليسو افضل منك او اسوا منك كلهم بشر ويستحقون الاحترام احترم المراة لاتتحرش بها لاتنظر اليها على انها فقط اداة للجنس بل هى بشر وعاملهن معاملة خاصة ليست عليك ان تحب اوتفهم اختيارات الشواذ ومن لايومنون بالله ولكن عليك ان تظهر لهم الاحترام على انهم بشر مثلك .

هل تستطيع القيادة.

أن الرجال المصرين يفتخرون بانهم ذو أخلاق 90% منهم يصبحون وحوش وراء عجلة القيادة لماذا لا تتوقف وتدع المشاة يعبرون الطريق ؟

لماذا لاتحافظ على مكانك فى الحارة الخاصة بك ودائم التنقل من اليمن لليسار برجاء احترام قانون المرور لذلك وعندما نتناقش مع اخرين لابد من الموضوعية لكن لماذا يكثر الصراخ فى الماكن العامة ويتطور الى شجار كبير حتى مع اقرب الاصدقاء هل فى استطاعتك الوصول بالمناقشة لطريقة مقنعة ومهذبة هل تريد مضايقة المارة والجيران ومن حولك رجاء اجعلها مناقشة متحضرة اما التحدث فى المحمول فى اللاماكن العامة والذى اصبح من الضرورات بل وأهم من الماء والغذاء . انت حر لكن لاترفع صوتك وانت تتحدث فى التليفون وتجبر الاخر من سماع ما تتحدث بة نحن لانريد حقا ان نتعرف على حياتك الخاصة .

هل لديك ميعاد مع شخص ما ؟ لاتتاخر عن ميعادك واذا تعزر وصولك فى الميعاد اتصل وابلغ عن سبب تاخيرك هل انت من المحظوظيين ولديك وظيفة ؟ مئات من الالاف لايعملون فلماذا لاتعمل بجد والتزام ؟ لماذا تعمل بنسبة 60% من طاقتك لماذا فى نصف الطريق ولا تكمل ما بدات عملة اذا كان لديك وظيفة فهذا التزام ولكن عدم التزامك يعنى انك لاتستحق راتبك .
أعلم انك مختلف معى فى الراى وتريد الرد لكن الاخرين يقومون بذلك هل تريد الانتحار والقفز من اعلى قد يربد البعض القيام بذلك ولكنة ليس حلا

الحياة الخاصة .

 فلتكن خاصا بك انت وحدك أعرف الكثير حول هذا الموضوع انت غير سعيد فى زواجك وتريد الطلاق شريك حياتك غير سعيدا ايضا وكل افراد الاسرة غير سعداء واجة نفسك بصراحة وتوقف عن النفاق والخضوع للعادات والتقاليد البالية  فهى حياتك انت وليست حياة الاخرين هل تريد ان تنشا اطفالك فى عائلة منافقة  هل تريد ان تغرس بداخلهم النفاق الاجتماعى ام تريد هم اي يحيوا حياة افضل وتريد ان تتزوج بمن تحب ولكنها تدين بدين اخر
او من طبقة أخرى او من بلد اخرى كل هذة العوائق التى من صنع الانسان .

ولابد اسالك هل هى حياتك ام حياة من يريدون أن يضعوك فى قالب زواج معين يقضى بك الى التعاسة وانت شريك حياتك ويسخرك لارضاء العائلة لماذا لانكسر القيود هل ستسمح للاطفالك بتحطيم القيود ام انت تريد حياة افضل لاطفالك  اليس كذلك.

البئيىة والتلوث والنفايات .

هل تحتاج فى كل مرة تذهب فيها لشراء كولا او عصيرلماذا تاخذ كيس بلاستك لوضعها فية خصوصا اذا كنت ستشربها على الفور

لماذا لاترفض بابتسامة هذا الكيس البلاستيك ؟

هل فكريت فى هذة الاكياس البلاستيك التى تذروها الرياح هنا وهناك فى الصحراء وفى البحرهل فكرت بمدى الضرر الواقع على الشعاب المرجانية والاسماك والطيور على الارض من جراء ذلك فهذة الاكياس تاخذو وقت طويلا قبل ان تتحلل فكيف ستشعر عندما ترى بلدك مغطى بالنفايات القبيحة التى توذى العين والصحة توقف عن الحاق الضرر بالبئية  

تنام والنور مضاء ...

مصر لاتتحمل كل هذا الاهدار فى الطاقة من المهم ان تبدا بتغير حياتك ؟واذا لم تفعل فمن سيغيرهالك هل يبدا اطفالك فى تغير نمط حياتهم ام سيبقى كل شى كما هو ولاشى سيتغير ابدا فكيف اذن بالله عليك سبتغير بلدك للافضل أن لم تتغير انت .

أعلم جيدا ان اصدقائى المصرين تعلمو يعملون جيدا أن رسالتى لكم من القلب 
برجاء شارك ذلك الخطاب مع الاسرة  
                                           وشكرا لكم جميعا


Saturday, January 18, 2014

LoLliPoP and other snapshots

Cycling on my racing bicycle on the Safaga road, oblivious of all around me; being aware that a car slows down beside me and thinking what the driver might want. When the pick-up is right beside me, the front-seat passenger holds out a lollipop towards me. ^-^

*****
Hurghada is crawling with police. Since the regime’s comeback, there are checkpoints in every street. I’m wondering where they hid during the last three years – there are so many! Yet, they leave me alone when I’m on my bike. ^-^

*****
Reluctantly, I go to the police to file a charge. The building is in a deplorable condition; apparently the restrooms are being renovated, because cement bags, toilet bowls and workmen can be seen everywhere. The Brigadier-General greets me politely and listens attentively to my translator. Later on he tells me about his journeys to Europe – in his best English. I can’t spot a computer anywhere; the records of the delinquents consist of thousands of yellow file cards with a photo and are situated in an old wooden box. The police officer, who phrases my file in Arabic manually written, offers me – even before I can have a seat – a chocolate biscuit. ^-^

*****
When you can’t understand it anymore… it’s Egypt.