Day SeventyOne

When life gives you puppy

love and caress and protect it.

This puppy entered the hostel in Basem's arms

wrapped in a towel like a new born gift

from the universe to our low,

panicked mood 

of the week.

Chadya and I 

had been going through the crazies

after I, slightly depressed 

and with intense withdrawal symptoms,

frustration and unhealthy increase of smoking

was unable and unwilling to get involved in any sort of social activity

and after Chadya,

understanding, mature and fun-loving

had lost faith in what had become an attempt to

fight all negatives and survive them with clear conscience.

I instantly focus on doggy-dog

who obviously needs attention more than us in this instance,

and try to prioritise 'neglected female dog'

over 'neglected female friends'.

It works out,

we needed the attention as much as each other.

We decide to go for a walk

and after days of low energy

and inactivity

we set doggy-dog free

for a fun.

She runs

and laughs

and Chadya runs in front of it

and I stroll behind them

as we crack out laughing

at the cuteness of the moment.

We decide to call her 

Nila

from (Nicole + Lila),

our sisters' names.

Day FourtyOne

Go by feeling.

It will always take you somewhere nice.

It's past lay-in time and I decide to get up and go to the supermarket.

I'm on a mission to get those Crispy Nut cereal 

that I haven't had in months.

I pick the wrong pack cz there's many versions of them but

only realise when I'm back at the hostel.

I have some anyway.

I go by feeling, go by feeling

and we end up at Sifi

for lunch 

with Sarah.

I go by feeling, go by feeling

and we make it to our first

contemporary 

dance class

with Nina.

I go by feeling, I go by feeling

and I explore a side of myself

which is more

etheric

and 

free

than

I 

ever knew.

We dance in circles,

walk in lines

and roll in 

stars.

I'm grounded,

I think of now.

I'm elevated 

I think of where I want to be.

I go by feeling, I go by feeling

and I'll be gone

with Feeling.

Day ThirtyEight

A lone day.

I wake up in a light, good mood, walk upstairs, have some breakfast and head off to nowhere in particular.

I realise I haven't been out alone like a tourist or even like a local during my time here. I'm always with people I know or with people I meet. 
I get to the main street and walk around.

I wonder, noticing new graffiti as I come across a patisserie. I go inside and pick a chocolate piece. The man asks me if I would like to have it here and I say yes please. He serves it to me in a plate and invites me to grab a chair. I say it's ok and head outside.

I sit on the sidewalk by the doorstep having this butter-filled delight as I people watch and observe the architecture of the buildings across the street. And it feels good. To be out exploring the city from my take. After being here for so many, days. I enjoy it and I'm so totally in the now.

My day continues with this feeling of knowing what is good for me and going for it.

My evening starts off with a citrus & cinnamon drink to prevent the cold I think is coming and is followed by a trip to the theatre.

I haven't been to the theatre in a long time and I usually go alone so this was the perfect way to complete my loneness.

'Things I'm Not'.

This is a contemporary dance piece of two people going through the ups and downs of what it takes to meet. Somewhere. Somehow.

And everything it takes to stay close, without destroying each other.

To co-exist. With an other and with your demons. 

And which one wins, or wins you over each time.

It was lovely.

More so because I felt less lonely than ever.

Day ThirtyFive

Visiting a refugee camp on a regular isn't easy.

And though we overlook the weight of devastation these people carry,

we are undoubtedly affected by it.

Duce and our two new volunteers Alexandra and Hanna arrive at Shatila after an aggressive check-point stop where the soldier was feeling extra generous with his masculinity and position of power.

The girls are new to this and it's their first contact with the camp. We split in pairs and walk into the classrooms. The kids are all over the place; and, being pumped up by the presence of a new teacher, take no time to impress her by acting with natural instinct of unsettlement.

The class never settles and the hour passes with me trying to explain to Alexandra that 'it's usually not as crazy as this' and that 'last week was great' and 'when they get to know you... bla bla'.

She gets it and I can see from the sparkle in her eye that she hasn't lost faith.

We take a break, walking around and grabbing lunch while we face friendly and not so friendly interactions. This is a first for me as I'm usually alone in this space and keep myself very reserved and unapproachable.

It was nice to become more than that and interact with a couple of nice people.

But the vibe, of being a foreigner, a non-muslim and a woman among this unidentified male masculinity is still quite heavy.

We return to the centre for the aerobics class I host for teenage girls.

I brought my childhood story books from Cyprus for them so I'm very excited to see them; 

and pass some English magic to them.

I lead the way, more so with eagerness to see them than neglect of the girls. I get to the hall and instantly meet Ilaf's look which had been looking for me. We fall into each others arms and without losing a chance she says,

'I miss you.'

'I missed you too habibi.

All the time.'

I say. 

The lesson starts and though captured by the girls' enthusiasm and respect for me for always coming back for them, I become aware of my group sitting on the side, watching.

I can feel how humbled and impressed they are- 

more so it touvhes me to see what's happening from an outsider's perspective. Something so mystical found recognition from other sources.

And it's inspiring.

For all of us.

I try to balance being part of this;

leading it even

and at the same time being observant and humbled to it.

Then I talk about yoga and balance itself in the physical form and 

establish that it comes through understanding your body and balance itself.

Intimacy never leaves the room.

We stretch, sit around closely and chat.

Ilaf is sitting on her knees to the right side of my stretched out legs, and an other is touching my feet. The rest are sitting crossed-legged forming a circle with no pretentious spaces between any of us as we form and feel the unity of loving female energy.

Day ThirtyTooMuch

The difference between healthy and unhealthy relationships is that people in the healthy never question themselves or the environment they're in.

Of course this can happen in unhealthy relationships too when the parties have normalised all there is and are unable to exit something that doesn't serve them...

Most likely because they are unable to identify it as unhealthy.

And here I am; questioning whether floating in a sea of uncertain interactions with people who are uncertain of themselves is the best choice I can make for myself.

Sarah tells me to face my issues of trust and relationship and to ignore people who interfere with it and the things that bother me. But that in itself is a paradox. It is encouraging a standpoint that takes all the active effort I have left in me. It's like asking a woman to stand among misogynists and not be hated. Like asking an overweight to stand among bullies and not hear their nasty comments.

And although this is feasible, because impossible is nothing, imagine how much strength and willingness that takes. I'm not saying I haven't got it; I'm just saying I don't need to be in a position where I constantly have to use it.

Besides, what would my therapist say?

She's my only real long-term point of healthy reference.

Just because others will thing I'm stronger than I am while she knows I'm not; and because it's her job to make things clear and sound to an unhealthy mind.

And though therapy ended months ago, the real therapy is to face struggles when they appear- and

to eventually not get close to them at all,

and not to be doubtful about personal decisions that may be in conflict with other, 

perhaps equally troubled personalities as yours before you took the healthy choice.

With all due respect.

Day TwentyOne

Beoble Barty.

It feels like a real party when the celebrity walks in and makes everything right.

He puts people's worries at ease and with the comfort he creates he can put up a barty.

That's Sammy.

He's the one person who can walk in and facilitate in beoble bartying.

He makes you forget what you were worried about; 

making you wonder if your worries

were an illusion.

He's loving, supportive, yet completely control of situations.

He wants to mean the world to you and then he plays humble.

He plays and teases for the sake of reaction and emotion.

He might be the berfect bart to our hostel dynamics whis is currently missing.

Our female energy and sisterhood got a bit drowned in emotion these days- 

and,

as much as I would like to blame the moon,

it's true;

we miss Sammy.

p.s.: in Lebanese Arabic the letter 'p' does not exist so it is replaced by 'b'.

Barty Beoble.

Day Nineteen

As Sammy would say,

'Its all about the balance.'

And though he would mock me for putting so much emphasis on the importance of balance, 

it remains a universal truth.

It's all about balance.

But how do you find this balance when

your inner child is wounded

your flatmates don't wash the dishes

your service providers don't give official receipts

your couscous was watery

your eyebrows aren't shaped to perfection

your dorm mate talks too much

your mum is disappointed you haven't met your essay deadline

you're going to Larnaca and not Nicosia

you're anorexic

you're French

you're a Taurus

you're in need of some sleep but still go out.

Yeane, how?