Day EightyTwo

Mum's gone,

it's my last week in Lebanon,

feeling feelings from loverboy afar

and my hair's growing.

I feel loved,

I feel refreshed, 

and secure in my surroundings.

We take selfies in the bathroom for no reason

and I'm rocking the rocks that I got from the street market

     

Haven't seen the girls that much over the past few days

but before we have time to catch up

we're all out on the street stairs

and I ask them to take pictures of my performance.

They look at me strangely and proceed 

to fulfill my favour

cz they can see my untamed excitement

and lack of willingness to explain.

The performance is meant for loverboy afar

who feels very close today. 

I climb the stairs

I get the performing buzz

and elegantly 

pose and pause 

as if to

say something

in between.

I'm loving it.

It makes me feel.

It gives me direction to move.

I go up

I go down

the rest are chilling

and chatting

and being part of the natural flow

of my performance

taking place here

but more so 

there afar.

Day SeventyNine

Mammi in Beirut

And I wait for her with a sign at arrivals.

I watch people arriving 
and an old man catches my attention with the way
he drops his bag on the floor to pick up
his grandson.

He holds him in his arms
and the little boy surrenders to the hug
and starts flipping his legs 
in the way a dog would its tail.

And I can't rember the time
I melted in such a hug;
from family members.

Then I remember
my mum is about to arrive
and it's my chance to be a child again;
after being an adult for so long.

Spot the mum

Day SixtySix

Long day

oh yay

Touring with Mohammed 

Sean and I woke up early,

half asleep and started a long-shot adventure.

We underestimated time

and wished to see Tripoli and Baalbek 

in a day.

It never happened.

But what happened was 

sweet road trips

and jokes

and naps in the car

at the back

as the guys chatted in the front.

Good music

and rhythms 

without

any

thing

to make this experience 

fake.

Sunsets and tiredness

as we return to our base.

The girls tell me that Mallory is 

leaving tonight.

We head off to meet her at the stairs

of her home.

I take a red beanie with me,

it will suit her

so I give it to her

to wear

and to hold near her.

Our goodbye is short

and sweet

as we head back to 

our hostel

for cuddles and naps.

Day SistyFour

Quiz night

Day ThirtySix

Jay's Day.

It's Jay's departure day and even though we spent the night with him at the pub quiz we're all ready to get up in the morning and say goodbye.

I hear his voice outside my door while he calls Ed out of the toilet.

I get up, open my dorm door and sneak out smiling at him. He gives me a hug and I say 

'I'll go back to bed until you have a shower.'

Instead I go upstairs and pick up my clothes from the laundry line on the top terrace.

His bag is packed and he's all ready to go.

I smile at him as I walk down with my dried clothes and stand in front of him to give him the goodbye hug.

I say he will be missed and that today won't be the same.

He already knows that.

He says bye to Luce and farewell to Sawsan on the stairs as he heads down.

I go to the kitchen pretending that my morning routine is going to go as planned. I look for cereal but someone's eaten the rest of it. I see Jay's bottle on the kitchen bar and I grab it running downstairs to catch him before he leaves.

It's one of those things you don't want people to leave without; 

not because it will remind you of him,

but because it's part of who he is when he travels.

He says 'Im here!'

while we meet on the first floor.

I hand him his water bottle and wait on the stairs while he's saying goodbye to Michael.

He walks out the door in a fast pace

we instantly hug again

and he says

'you changed my life'.

I blink and say,

'oh my god you did too'

as we part.

He heads downstairs..

I head upstairs..

with a slow, digestive pace.

I pause on the tenth step and look at the hostel entrance; not ready to reach it.

I take my time to realise what he just said

and the impact we've had on each other.

I pause a bit more

not being able to exit the zone of this lovely goodbye.

I walk upstairs,

and upstairs a bit more

to the top terrace

where I know I will be alone.

I have a look to the bottom terrace to see Sarah listening to some music on her headphones and Kate lying in the sun.

I start walking around in circles

to find my pace again;

knowing that it's up to me to keep it the way Jay set it for everyone.

And it's the first time I'm crying intensely knowing that this isn't separation

because even though he's departing

I keep a part

of him

in me.

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 TwentyEight

Sometimes it's hard to post a blog piece every day.

Reasons include not having enough time to collect yourself and thoughts, or, not being decisive on the blog's context since all days seem to be extremely rich, or, even, 

what I'm experiencing today;

that the self is so overwhelmed by feelings that it lacks mental capacity.

The hostel life is fast;

and I like to take my time,

so,

this lifestyle is making me adapt 

to a faster digestion

of events

or alternatively 

gives me indigestion.

-

Today I went to Shatila.

Shatila for me is like a fix.

Can't stay far for too long and it fixes me when I'm there.

Reasons being the extreme realness of a community that only has itself.

People who only have each other.

And whether I have been fully accepted as a presence there

or not

becomes irrelevant to the amounts of love I receive from 

everyone who I do come in contact.

Linguistic communication is scarce -

with the teachers at the organisation, with the children, 

and with the teenage girls.

It all happens with the eyes.

It's through Abdullah's eyes that I know he's fully in love with me and that he knows I'm fully in love with him. He tries to be naughty by leaving his desk or by bothering other kids but the moment I look at him he returns to writing down the numbers. The fact that I'm giving him this attention; the fact that there is care and not demand in my look is what motivates him to go all the way through the lesson.

Zahra's the 8-year old version of me.

Dark brown features and growing to potentially look like Eva Mendez.

The class finishes and all three classes meet in the hallway. We start dancing and singing to Arabic and English children's songs. Zahra's at the other side of the big circle and she looks at me each time we are at an angle facing each other from the distance.

Then we all move to the dance hall and she's one of the few kids who make it to the stage 

(via random selection cz all of them wanted to be on stage).

And I observe her being so charming and full of universal awareness. 

A bright child.

She dances with charm and humbleness.

She's not doing it to be seen. She's doing it cz she feels like it.

The song ends and she runs and lands next to me on the hall carpet.

She leans on my crossed legs and makes my space hers.

She starts singing the next Arabic song and occasionally looks at me.

I look back and keep my eyes on her

a bit longer.

My eyes water and I'm not wishing for anything.

I just try to remember what happened 

between

me being her then and me being me now.

And I try to merge the two together; not having realised that I have been giving myself a lot less credits than I ever deserved.

'Al beitttttt' [home time!]

the teacher shouts.

She gets up, gives me a hug and runs out with the rest of the screaming kids.

Day TwentyFour

Go shawties,

it's your birthdays!

Were all legends born today?

Well, obvs not cz it ain't Jesus' bday,

but a handful of incredible people were born on this day.

First and foremost,

my kindest-hearted friend,

and number 1 'home to many' fan,

Kristy!

She will drop the most universally/ emotionally/ sociologically/ individually appropriate comment and then look down and think about it and say

'yeah dude.'

Peace & Love dude mu.

Then you got Stevo; a San Fransisco traveler who I met at the hostel in September.

Free spirit, young aura and a pleasure to be around.

Ripped Tshirts Stevo!

Then you got Bob Marley.

The guy with the dreads speaking the truth in melodies of the soul man.

know what a meen eh.

Thank you Bob.

And then you got the curious case of Basemo. A child who grew into a man and who, for whatever reason brought him here, found himself living and working between a very female family setting. He receives motherly love and protection from Sarah, sibling troubleshooting from Maryam and sister-homie attention from me.

We all care about him.

Cz if we didn't he wouldn't have been a topic of discussion.

We meet in the kitchen after a lengthy nap; Maryam, Sarah and me.

'Yeh let's get Basem a cake!

'Where is he? Is he coming home?'

'I don't know- he better!'

9pm and he returns.

He has a late dinner and sits on the couch with his earphones on.

Sarah prepares the candles and walks in with a firework-thin-candle on the all white & strawberry cake.

We start singing happy birthday but he's still listening to 'Fat Freddy's Drop'. He looks up, half way through our chanting with the sweetest look of surprise on his face. 

He turned 8 today.

He cuts us cake and serves it on the 'Ben 10' plates wew got him.

His eyes glisten,

'I haven't had a birthday cake in a long time man.'

Day Ten

Arrivals, Departures, and the long-term travelers co-coordinating hellos and goodbyes.

Phrases repeated; never with the same enthusiasm. 

Sometimes more, sometimes less.

It's Rushmika's departure day so it's becoming uncomfortable to pretend we're all cool with that. I'm low on energy so I nap on the couches. I hear people coming in, chatting. I cuddle the pillow as the heater warms my back and I remain unconscious yet comfortable in the living room while I hear background conversations tickling my ears. 

Total family vibe.

Rushmika asks if she can use my phone and I pass it to her, half asleep, as I extend my arm and touch her cheek with my palm. 

She blinks with surrendering love.

---

The evening unfolds with our 'last supper' with her and though our focus for goodbye celebrations was a night out, we realise that it's all the small things that are making this goodbye harder.

We dance and sing between the dining table and couches as others watch or chuckle to our belly dancing moves while we become crystalline.

Day Eight

On the topic of love I find that distance can be the factor that keeps people apart or the one that brings them together.

People hang out around the hostel in the nicest spirit and when you stick around them for longer you find out deeper lovestory secrets. And this topic always comes up when there aren't any other people around. (Apart from Sarah's lovestory of course, which is a topic of discussion on the dinner table, on the terrace, in the kitchen, at the bar.)

Mia books a private dorm and tells me about her lovestory. She finds it hard to put words to it and I say '...nice!' as if to reassure her that I get it. Unexplained happiness and euphoric comfort flow. I get it.

She asks, 'how about you?'

My eyes glisten as I bring to mind a guy who lives 2,103km away. I explain that it has been a long time coming as I ignored the guy before; trying to protect myself. Almost not allowing myself to accept that he had shown a subtle interest in the past.

Her look surprised, curious to hear more. 

'Well, 

we live in different countries,

 but we're supposed to go for coffee soon!'

She smiles at me yet I don't confess the times I have pictured him here and me there.

Day Seven

'If it meant to be,

it wu be.'

Quote of the day from Lu, from China.

He said 'ma gefrend left me yesteday, ba I'm no sad.

If it meant to be, it wu be.'

Hostel stories usually involve love and separation since it is a home for travelers. Travelers who meet a loving match on the journey, or have left one to travel. 

Yet between us there is this greater confidence that it's not all that bad. We share independence and growth. We share teachings and compassion. Cz we travel alone yet at the end of the day we gather around the table and dine. We serve each other and comment on the hostelmade meal of the day. We laugh and play silly drinking games without drinking. And we're able to say that 'this help me a lat becau I wa feeling down'.

<3