east of the middle.

the Way - الطريق
Asking, Learning, Understanding - االطّلب , التعلّم , الفهم

~~~~~

the Travelers - الرحالون

Maddie - مادّي

Laya - لاية

Jessica - جيسيكا

~~~~~

Beirut, oh Beirut - بيروت يا بيروت "Beirut" - Nadia Tueini

Beirut of the hundred palaces and Beyte of the stones
Where people come from everywhere to build up statues
Which make men kneel down in prayer and make wars roar.

In Beirut in every house dwells a different idea
In Beirut every word is a parade
In Beirut men lay down thoughts and caravans

Whether she is a nun or a sorcerer
or both together...

Adored or cursed
Blood thirsty or blessed with holy water
Phoenician, Arab, or anybody
A Levantine with multiple vertigos
Like those strange flowers fragile on their stalks
Beirut is in the Orient the last sanctuary
Where man is clad in the color of light.

~~~~~

the Road to Damascus - الشارع إلى دمشقThere are no words to describe my love for this city.

~~~~~

the "holy land" - الأرض المقدسة

The entire time I traveled throughout Israel and Palestine, I always felt drawn to the question, "Is this all we are really fighting for?" I have yet to find an answer for that question.

yes and no.

Almost all of my conversations in the past week have included some version of the following: "Hey, you're leaving Cairo soon - are you excited? How does that feel?"
And every time I open my mouth to answer, I find myself saying different versions of the same thing. Mostly, "Yes and no."

Yes - I am unbelievably excited to have my family and my friends in Atlanta in my life again. To drive a car and eat Mexican food and resume my life that I abandoned a year ago. I am ecstatic about leaving AUC and heading back to Georgia Tech. For American football and the smell of bacon. To rejoin my stateside AIESEC family and start making a change in Atlanta. For Target and Urban Outfitters and good beer and having voicemail on my phone. To start rebuilding a life in the States.

No - I have had migraine-inducing anxiety attacks over not knowing what will happen when I go home. And leaving my Egyptian family and friends. I've started randomly tearing up in the backs of taxis and get nostalgiac over the smell of ta'ameyya for the life that I have made here. AUC is a drag, but the people that I have met there are definitely not, and the AIESECers here have built me something I feel like I will be removign bones knowing I won't see them whenever I want. I am terrified of reverse culture shock and all that comes with it - I know it will be worse this time. I am a very different person, and the US is a very different place than when I last saw it.

It's daunting, and I think that the next few weeks will only make it more difficult. But it's all part of the challenge that I signed up for.

a jaunt ends.

LevantaPalooza rolls closed, and I am really excited to go home. It's been an adventure, and I have interesting stories to tell. Some bad, some good, but in the end, the Dream lives on.

And less than a month left in Cairo until I head stateside. Which is growing more terrifying than I thought, and I am both dreading leaving and excited to leave. It's an odd simultaneous tearing that is located somewhere around my stomach. I can't tell which urge is stronger today.

Levant-a-Palooza 2009

Cairo - Beirut - Damascus - Amman - Jerusalem - Ramallah - Bethlehem - Amman - Cairo.
yellah, ya habibi.

القاهرة - بيروت - دمشق - عمان - القدس - رام الله - بيت لحم - عمان - القاهرة
يا الله, يا حبيبي

إن شاء الله - - Insha'Allah.

it's this feeling, it smells like revolution.

It's there. I can feel it - pulling right behind my stomach, an ache between my eyes, a general sense of boredom and knowing that this has all been done before.

I need a change.

And I guess the timing is about right - I know a major change is coming, and soon, and I have just been in one place for too long. And it's not Egypt, I think, but AUC and everything that comes along with it. Because sometimes I will look out my window and see this amazing view and listen to the call to prayer coming from the green-lit mosques and I know, right then and there, that this is a moment, and I am in it and experiencing it and loving it, but it is fleeting and impermanent and one day, I will look out a window and I will see something else entirely. And that idea is already making me a little sad. But on campus, I feel like the apathy is creeping into me, the laziness and the lowered standards - I need to get out before it all latches on. I don't feel like it is challenging me to grow - and if you aren't growing, you're dying.
And I am anxious because I don't know what is coming. And I can't really do anything about it from here. That this minute I have to throw my hands up, smile, and say insha'Allah. Although I wouldn't say no to suggestions on what to do. Books to read, music to listen to, revolutions to start. It's time for something new.