October 31, 2005

MRTC* and Festivals

MRTC - Mainly replying To Comments......

cmhl said: "it is hard when it seems like ALL of your friends are getting married== been there, done that."

Actually that's not what I find to be the hardest. I don't envy them. Am not an envious person. What I find very hard is the way their new lives change our relationships. Mine with them. We don't talk anymore, let alone meet. Does having a beau mean cutting off friends. I don't think so. But that's how it works around here. We don't talk anymore let alone meet and do girl stuff. And I guess its better that way because those I meet are never alone. Hubby is there. How do you maintain a conversation with someone who isn't listening to you, who is being kissed, hugged, looked at les yeux dans les yeux all while you're trying to maintain the conversation? I can tell you, there's nothing as bad as feeling like the third wheel.... They say Misfortune shows those who are not really friends, I guess here its quite the opposite....

Heather said: "I think people stand a much better chance of a good marriage if they wait till 25/27 depending on their maturity. Some are ready sooner...I am not saying I am right, just opining here."

You're definitely right. I don't know whether it is a proved fact but women have more maturity than men the same age. Am I right?

Suley said: "Marriage. I'm your age and I'm not married, nor have I ever been married. Maybe it's different in Mauritius, though. It's not something I think about much, although I'm not opposed to marriage. I'm just much too poor to be married right now."

:-) lol! It's interesting though, that comment about being too poor to be married. Why? I may be mistaken  but it's the poor who normally jump into marriage early. I guess it's because getting a daughter or a son off their hands kind of reduces the burdens of the head of the family. Also wedding a salary earner can considerably reduce financial problems. 

There's a poor woman who one of my neighbours took pity on and allowed her and her kids to live in their garage. They travel a lot and don't been use the house. This poor poor poor woman had 7 kids. My mum gave her clothes and covers etc. She started imposing herself on us and even hinted at coming to live with us. Can you believe the nerve. Anyway,the point is, the husband was Invisible Man. We naver saw him and next thing we knew,she was parading pregnant to her eyes. With all the trouble she was having feeding and clothing 7 kids, an 8th was on the way. I asked her about it. I had to. I asked her how she was going to take care of this coming kid and where the hell did that kid come from anyway? I was mad. I actually saw her stealing a t-shirt left hanging to dry at our en-face neighbour's!! She looked at me with those sad sad brown eyes and said: "the lord gave."

Festivals, gonna have a great Week.....

According to me, Mauritius has the biggest record of public holidays. No wonder. The population counts hindus, tamils, telegus, marathis, muslims, christians and budhists. Our Rainbow Island boasts of its multi-culturalism and multi-religiousity and everybody living in Peace and Harmony. 

This week, you won't be reading me much cause I'll be on holidays. Starting from yesterday. Yesterday, the Hindu community is celebrated Divali.

Divali is the festival of light, joy and good fortune for everyone. It is considered to be among the most important festivals of the Indian culture and tradition. Celebrating Divali is synonymous of siding with light instead of darkness, of the power of knowledge against ignorance, and of opting for good over evil. Divali or Deepavali, comes from two Hindi words: “deepa” which means light, and “avali” which means row. The words clearly depict the wonderful scene before our very eyes. All these lights are supposed to guide the Goddess Luckshmi who brings wealth, good luck and wisdom on earth.


We ate lots of "gateaux" - ladoo, gateaux patates, gulab jamune, rasgoolah, gateaux mootai. In the evening, we roamed around town to watch the light decorations. I prefer the lamps. Not all those ugly electrical ones which look like no decoration at all to me. Just an ugly mass of haphazard arrangement winking at you.

 
Tomorrow is All saints Day. The Day after, we're celebrating the commemoration of the Arrival of the Indentured Labors to Mauritius.  Thursday is a work day but believe me, no one would go to work. They're pretty lazy, the Mauritians, si vous voulez mon avis.  Am not coming to work either. I have a good reason. Friday is Eid ul Fitr.
 

 
The great Muslim poet Jalal al-Din Rumi sang about Ramadan in the 13th century AD (translation by A.J. Arberry):

"The month of fasting has come, the emperor's banner has arrived; withhold your hand from food, the spirit's table has arrived.

The soul has escaped from separation and bound nature's hands; the heart of error is defeated, the army of faith has arrived.

Fasting is our sacrifice, it is the life of our soul; let us sacrifice all our body, since the soul has arrived as guest.

Fortitude is as a sweet cloud, wisdom rains from it, because it was in such a month of fortitude that the Koran arrived.

...Wash your hands and your mouth, neither eat nor speak; seek that speech and that morsel which has come to the silent ones."

To mark the end of Ramadan, the fasting month, we celebrate. Eid Ul Fitr which litterally means the Festival of the Breaking of Fast.

 

I'll thus be reading you guys next monday... This is going to be very very hard.... Shall miss you all....

Posted by Fitena at 09:00:44 | Permanent Link | Comments (2) |

October 27, 2005

Cooking, marriages and Mauritius....

 All my adolescence I spent here. In Mauritius. This island is more home to me than any other place I've been. Not that I prefer it or anything of that sort but in the sens that its where I've stayed longer. I've come to sometimes wish we'd never leave. I hate good-byes. And till now I still haven't returned back to any of the places we've lived before. I thus don't know and ain't sure am going to see my present friends soon, if ever, if we leave. Not that am seeing them that much anyway.


They're all married. Most of them. Do the 0.1% singles remaining out of my 100% friends count. Do. They're either committed or engaged. When I go visit them, their mothers ask me: “are you single?” I answer “no am Fatma (Fitèna is my how-mum-calls-me-name). Nah. I don't, but I wish I could. Too bad sometimes as such a polite-good-mannered-girl (sigh). Some grandmas call me a spinster. Am 24 years old. Hilarious really, if it wasn't so sad.


I had this friend. B was her name. We did three classes together. Form 2 (back when englishacally ignorant) up to form 4. In form 3 we get to choose our subjects. In form 4 some of us go to either science, literature or accounts sections. I was in no particular section. I took English, French, Maths – which are compulsory – Arabic, Commerce, economy, Accounts and Home Economics. What Home Economics had to do with all the other subjects, I don't know, I just loved cooking, eating and wanted to know what i shouldn't be eating in order to lose weight put on from eating the food I loved cooking. Anyways, B and me were in Home Economics together.


We used to do mock exams every two weeks to help us cope with the real exams pressure and be able to make good use of the 2 hours alloted to us to do our cooking, setting, serving and washing up. We're all assigned questions like: your mother is sick. She has a deficiency of calcium and suffer from High B. P. Prepare and serve her an appropriate breakfast. I hated those questions. I loved the ones where you're told to prepare stuff for a birthday party or a summer buffet ouvert. Those were great. You cook almost whatever you want. Home Economics was super. We had to start and end it all in two hours. Not a minute more. You lose marks if you take more time.

So, B. B once had an easy question question. She just had to prepare a meal for 4 teenagers. All she had to do was bearing in mind the fact that they were in the process of growing up etc... and needed extra proteins etc. her Time Plan (we have to submit it prior to the cooking) was fine. Our teacher said GO and we started.


I baked a cake that day. A sponge cake. Finger licking good fruit and whipped cream sponge cake. That was the dessert. For the meal I prepared a Salade de Couscous, Grilled spicy chicken, Tomato Chutney, Creamed Lentils and a fruit cocktail. My teacher beamed at me when she came over to my already set table. And I'd already done all my washing up. I went to sit and watch my fellow class mates at work.


What was B doing? I learned it soon enough. Mrs O, our teacher, started yelling at poor B. Why? Because, Miss B was still in step one of part one of first meal. She was deep frying a drumstick. You won't believe this ( even I couldn't), but this girl had been frying chicken the whole two hours and done nothing, nada, rien at all apart that. And you know what? The year after, she did not come to school. She'd gotten married during the holidays. I wonder sometimes what her husband, if he's still alive and hasn't starved to death, looks like.


I have a friend, 23 years old. She has 3 kids. Another one married at 17 and divorced the year after. Found out her hubby did drugs. She's a divorcee and she's pointed at. No one would marry her. They are like that here. And the sad thing is it was no fault of hers. She didn't chose the guy. He was imposed on her.

What sells the papers here are domestic violence issues. This one man burning his wife, that other one stabbing her to death. The last one who stabbed his wife, no longer that two weeks ago, also killed his daughter of 3 in the process. Sad.

Posted by Fitena at 12:56:34 | Permanent Link | Comments (5) |

October 25, 2005

How it went, my week end.....

Am feeling sleepy. Haven't been having much sleep lately. Its funny. I never suffer of lack of sleep when I spend the night reading. Never. I sometimes stay up till 4 am and be at work at 8am. Feeling très bien. It's not as if I've been working real hard either. And fasting surely never tired me. So I just can't comprehend why am feeling so bushed....

My week end went fine. I finally didn't attend Saturday's meeting. I told them something came up and I wouldn't be able to make it. Something did come up. I didn't feel like attending anymore. That's what came up. So I spent the whole day at Yannick's. She' s friend and neighbor. She owns a Salon de coiffure. She does hair. Her Salon is called "Sublimo". She's good and more importantly she LOVES her job. Its heaven having her shampoo your hair. And she offers this super Tea Tree Treatment. Massages your scalp for a whole hour while Phil Thorthon's (am not sure about the last name's spelling) musical is playing. I wish I'd taken a rendez-vous for the treatment instead of sitting there the whole day getting in her way. Not my fault, she likes my company. But then, I did help. I shampooed two girl's hair. They didn't seem to find it real bad. Talking of Salon de Coiffure, I watched "Beauty Shop" starring Queen Latifa a week ago. Not bad but I ain't real crazy about it. It was so banal....

Sunday's meeting I couldn't miss. It meant having the eve's meeting feedback too which would spare me calling everybody to find out who bothered writing down anything and be filled in. The meeting was quite lively. Almost everybody attended. We broke up at 1p.m. I was starting to feel real tired and was wishing the couple who gave me a ride would wrap their stuff up and get us going. They had other plans. They have this old old aunty they'd planned we'd pay a visit to. I didn't have a say in the matter anyway. The couple are my parents friends. We went there. The aunty isn't old. She's ancient. It was painful watching her eat. She looked like an old kid in her parents ed. She was swallowed by it. She's almost bald and her eye's are colourless. She's 98. two years more to go and... I've got to tell you this.

The Mauritian authorities really flabbergast me. Especially the Ministry of Social Security and Senior Citizen's Welfare. When you turn 100 they spoil you rotten. They're so proud of you. Your family gets to throw this big big party (a circus) everyone is invited to and financed by the said ministry. The ministry people are there too. Of course. The 100 year old receives from the hands of the minister himself a check of Rs 10,000 (appx. $ 345), lots of gifts (wrapped, so I can't really tell you whats in there) and a MOBILE PHONE. The latest model s'il vous plait! They make a show of handing the mobile phone. Now tell me. The money, i get – though I don't believe the 100 yrs old is going to get a cent out of it – but the mobile phone? What is this grandma or pa going to DO with a mobile phone? It's sure going to make some grand child happy.

So we went to the old aunty's and then to some other of their relatives whose husband had passed away. It was a very sad Sunday for me. I got back home and Laurence was there. She'd brought “brown sugar” for us to watch. We've never seen the movie. But problem, we got no DVD player. No tambourine wanted to lend. They're very mean in that way, the Mauritians. They don't lend and you don't get mad. You understand. But when you refuse, everybody gets to know about how mean and ungenerous you are with your stuff.... so we didn't get to watch no “Brown Sugar” and worked on her essays instead 

Posted by Fitena at 08:16:31 | Permanent Link | Comments (2) |

October 20, 2005

Week End................

NO WORK!
NO WORK tomorrow!!!
I needed the break soooo much. I'll sinfully rest, sinfully sleep, sinfully read and sinfully play super mario!!! That's the only game my poor little brother owns. He seldom plays. We do. We, the elder sisters. We're bad I know. These are the bad sisters. Where am I? behind the camera.
 

 
So what shall I do think long long week end then? mmmm, I rented two books at the library. They sound good from the resumé at the back of the book. Author's I never read before, one Martha Grimes and the other.... Can't remember. I've started the Martha Grimes. It's called Hotel Paradise. And its pretty good. Here's an extract I just loved:
 
"Some things mean more than the law. I have not sat through all of Clint Eastwood's old westerns for nothing. Clint doesn't always hound a rustler to his grave, not if there's a reason to let him off more important than a dozen law-abiding reasons to arrest him. Call it cowpoke justice. I hear people say "It's between me and my conscience," but i think it's awful risky to go by your conscience, for your conscience can be pretty leaky. I think Clint would agree." That's a 12 year old girl thinking. That's only page one of the book.
 
Apart reading? My friend Laurence is coming over. My sister is helping her with her GMAT. The Math part actually and am helping her with the verbal and her essays. She's applying for MBA. She thinks am a genius with all the great great ideas I've been feeding her for her essays. She says she'll wrap them up this week end. So we'll work them out.
 
Saturday I got a meeting concerning a series or conferences to be held in December. If we don't get over all the issues we might e meeting on Sunday. Did I say I was going to have a long long long week End?
Posted by Fitena at 12:53:28 | Permanent Link | Comments (4) |

Your new english Dictionary!

Your what? Fifth Lesson?!

E, E, E day! E as in Eager to see what it's all about! The E in all ses états!  Enrich your vocabulary right nere, right now!

Early Rising: Triumph of mind over mattress.

Earth: A solid substance, much desired by the seasick.

 

Earthquake: A topographical error.

Easter Millinery: Hatrocities.

Easy Chair: The hardest one to find empty.

Easy Payments: The ones that are easier said than done.

Easy Street: The route of all evil. :-)

Eavesdropper: A woman who loves to listen in, but not as much as she loves to talk out.

Eccentric: 1. A man too rich to be called crazy ; 2. One who minds his own business.

Echo: 1. No sooner said than said; 2. The only thing that can cheat a woman out of the last word.

Eclipse: 1. What an English barber does for a living; 2. What you use to hold two pieces of paper together; 3. What a gardener does to the hedge.

Economics: College professor talk for “What happened to the money in the cookie jar?”

Economist: 1. A man who knows more about money than the people who have it; 2. A man who tells you what to do with your money after you have done something else with it; 3. One who takes a lot of unwarranted assumptions and reaches a foregone conclusion; 4. A man who can save money by cutting down some other person’s expense.

Economy: 1. A way to spend money without getting any fun out of it; 2. Denying ourselves a necessity today in order to buy a luxury tomorrow; 3. Living within your means even if you have to borrow money to do so.

 

Ecumenism: Getting to know the opposite sects.

Editor: 1. The fellow who makes a long story short; 2. A newspaper employee whose function is to separate the wheat from the chaff and see that the chaff is printed.

Educate: To render harmless by cultivation.

Educated Man: One who has finally discovered that there are some questions to which nobody has the answers.

Educated Person: One who voluntarily does more thinking than is necessary for his own survival.

Education: 1. A debt due from present to future generations; 2. Forcing abstract ideas into concrete heads; 3. That mysterious process whereby information passes from the lecture notes of the professor through the pen and onto the notebook; 4. That which discloses to the wise and disguises from the foolish their lack of understanding; 5. What a father gets when he sits in on a conversation with a group of teenagers; 6. What’s left over after you’ve gotten the facts; 7. What you have left over when you subtract what you’ve forgotten from what you learned; 8. A technique employed to open minds so that they may go from cocksure ignorance to thoughtful uncertainty.

Efficiency: 1. The ability to do a job well, plus the desire to do it better; 2. The knack of getting somebody to do a job you don’t like.

Efficiency Expert: 1. A man smart enough to tell you how to run your business and too smart to start his own; 2. A man who knows less about your business than you do and gets paid more for telling you how to run it than you could possibly make out of it, even if you ran it right instead of the way he told you to; 3. A man who walks in his sleep so that he can get his rest and his exercise at the same time; 4. One who always has to make up a foursome before passing through a revolving door.

Ego: 1. Some spark within us which leads us to believe that we are better than we are, and which is often instrumental in proving it; 2. The only thing that can keep on growing without nourishment; 3. I-dolatry.

 

Ego Trip: Stumbling over your own feet.

Egotism: 1. An anaesthetic that nature gives to a man to deaden the pain of being a darn fool; 2. Self-confidence looking for trouble; 3. Something that enables the man in a rut to think he’s in the groove; 4. Usually just a case of mistaken non-entity; 5. Self-intoxication.

Egotist: 1. A conceited ass who thinks he knows as much as you do :-) ; 2. A fellow who certainly knows a good thing when he says it; 3. A man who thinks that a woman will marry him for himself alone; 4. A person of low taste, more interested in himself than in me; 5. A person who persists in telling you things about himself that you had planned on telling him about yourself; 6. One who is always me-deep in conversation; 7. One who thinks that if he hadn’t been born, people would wonder why; 8. One whose eyes look in instead of out; 9. Someone who thinks all the world is a stooge; 10. One more interested in himself than in you; 11. A guy who is always me-deep in conversation.

Eiffel Tower: The Empire State Building after taxes.

Elderly Wolf: Jill collector with jack.

Electoral College: Institute of higher yearning.

Electrocardiograph: Ticker tape.

Element: A pachyderm.

Elephants: The largest living ants.

Eloquence: Logic on fire.

 

Embezzlement: Bankers away!

 

Employment Agency: Where people are put in their place.

Emulsion: A mixture of oil and emotion.

Enema: Not a friend.

Engagement: 1. A period in which a girl is placed in solitaire confinement; 2. A period of urge on the verge of a merge; 3. The time a girl takes until she finds out if she can do any better.

Enthusiast: One who preaches four times as much as he believes, and believes four times as much as a sane man ought to.

Epigram: 1. A half-truth so stated to irritate the person who believes the other half; 2. Truth on a “binge.”

Epistle: The wife of an apostle.

Epitaph: 1. A belated advertisement for a line of goods that has been permanently discontinued; 2. A statement that lies above the one that lies beneath; 3. A monumental lie.

Eraser: Chinese corrector’s item.

Eskimos: People who, after a few months of work, call it a day.

Esophagus: The author of Aesop’s Fables.

Esplanade:  To attempt an explanation while drunk.

Estates: Acreage in the country owned by people who have “gone to town.”

Etc.: A sign; when used makes others believe you know more than you do.

Eternal Struggle: Keeping your earning capacity up to your wife’s yearning capacity.

Eternal Triangle: Diapers.

Etiquette: 1. A convenient code of conduct which makes lying a virtue and snobbishness a righteous deed; 2. Learning to yawn with your mouth closed; 3. The noise you don’t make when you eat soup.

Eulogy: Praise that’s too much and too late.

 

Eureka: Euphemism for “You smell bad.”

 

Europe: Next one to bat.

Eve: The first chicken to ruin a man’s garden.

Evening Dress: More gone than gown (I think M would just love this one!!!)

Evolution: What makes the chimpanzee in the zoo ask, “Am I my brother’s keeper?”.

Exclamation Point: A period that has blown its top.

Executive: 1. A big gun – that hasn’t been fired yet; 2. A fellow who goes out and finds something that needs to be done - then finds someone willing to pay for it – then hires somebody to do it; 3. A man who can take two hours off for lunch without hindering production; 4. A man who goes around with a worried look on the face of his assistant; 5. A man who talks to visitors so the other employees can get their work done; 6. One who makes an immediate decision and is sometimes right; 7. A person who follows his work schedule to a tee.

Executive Ability: The art of getting the credit for all the hard work that somebody else does.

 

Executive Shakeup: Title wave.

Exercise: 1. A dirty word that compels you to wash your mouth out with chocolate; 2. Droop therapy.

Experience: 1. A form of knowledge acquired only two ways: by doing and being done; 2. A name given to our mistakes (Amen); 3. A revelation in the light of which we renounce our errors of youth for those of age; 4. The name an older man gives to his mistakes; 5. Not what happens to me, but what a man does with what happens to him; 6. The mistakes we like to remember; 7. What you get from being inexperienced; 8. What you get when you’re expecting something else; 9. What causes a person to make new mistakes instead of the same old ones; 10. What you imagine you have until you get more.

Expert: 1. A fellow who has made a lot of good guesses (like the guy whose picture you've all seen on  The Great Saphenous's  blog - The Tickle guy); 2. A man from another city, and the farther away that city is, the greater the expert; 3. A man wearing a tie and an important look on his face who knows how to complicate simplicity; 4. A man who avoids the small errors as he sweeps on to the grand fallacy; 5. A man who is seldom in doubt, but often in error; 6. An ordinary man away from home; 7. Any person who has tried and failed – and can tell you why; 8. A person who not only knows all the answers but can think up problems to fit them; 9. One who can take something you already knew and make it sound confusing; 10. One who knows more and more about less and less; 11. One who tells you to do something exactly the way you decided to do it before you asked him; 12. One who knows all the answers, if you ask the right questions.

Extravagance: Buying whatever is of no earthly value to your wife.

Extravagant Girl: One who usually makes a poor mother and a bankrupt father.

Eyedropper: A clumsy ophthalmologist.

Posted by Fitena at 09:06:42 | Permanent Link | Comments (0) |

October 18, 2005

Wondering where I am?

am sick.... the weather is a bitch. One minute its kinda cold the next its so hot you wanna take everything off. And am fasting. Bad bad bad headache. But since am so nice and wouldn't dare not "enlighten the plethora of impressionable minds that come to me for guidance" (The Great Saphenous ), here is what I could think of posting (the head hurts just thinking... sigh)

"It's not enough that we do our best; sometimes we have to do what's required."

 

 and oh here's one to bring a smile to your faces:

You got something to add to that??

Posted by Fitena at 12:31:10 | Permanent Link | Comments (4) |

October 12, 2005

Children!

"No more complains shall I hear about the "huge" meme. Everybody get down to work."
 
Thus spoke the Master.
 
And like   Suley  would say, Who would dare violate the Holy and Sacrosanct Laws of Bloggery huh?
 
Heather, so sorry I made you cry ! You know, relationships evolve. Sometimes for good and sometimes for worse. I have been lucky. It was hard. Some words were said, some things done; nor can they be taken back nor can they be redone. They were nobody's fault. Mum thought she was doing me a favor at that time, I thought she couldn't possibly be my mother and that I must have been adopted. Am now grateful I am the way I am. Not vindictive in the least. I can't imagine how nightmarish my life would have been if I'd held grudges or not been the sensible person life mould me into. I can't elaborate. My best advice would be for you to keep an open mind and heart for your little girl. Make her come to you for talk, for laughter, for gossip, for secret sharing. Make her fear not what you might think of anything she'll do or say. Make her trust in you and trust her. Everything's gonna be allright.
 
On Children
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.
 
You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.   
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.
Kahllil Gibran, The Prophet [Extract]
Posted by Fitena at 07:22:18 | Permanent Link | Comments (3) |

October 10, 2005

List Making Therapy!

 

Here's something I came across a couple of weeks ago. It was a supplement to a Magazine I enjoy reading (and which I purchase when its already outdated; its cheaper then). Its a "List it all to Enjoy Life more" list. That's the best translation I could come out with.

It stated that in the US, two therapists , Illene Segalove and Paul Bob Velick, studies are mainly based on "List-Making". They publish guides which prompt us to make lists in specific fields: to be better parents, to become more creative etc... Or to simply rediscover ourselves.


Here are the lists – Let's call this a meme. You should list at least 3 and no more than 10 for every entry. Do not think. Be as spontaneous as possible.


  1. The happiest moments I lived this year.

  • Getting in touch with my cousins in the UK through hi5.com. We've never met.

  • Succeeding in getting our Residence permit without any help from "Someone who's Something".

  • Losing 2kgs.

  • Getting the frame I've been dying for. A squarish model. Chocolate brown lining and black finish. Enhances my hazel eyes :-)

  • Finally managing to find my size in this



  • Touring the island with Z, L and N.

  • Anytime I made anyone smile, laugh or happy.

     

     

  1. The people I love.

  • Mama.

  • My sisters and brothers.

  • C. M.

  • Rouna and her kids

  • Sanata

  • Lau


 

  1. What I love about the people I love.

  • Mama: She's the most courageous person I've ever known. She has unshakable belief in what she believes in. She has patience à revendre. She's my Mama.

  • My sisters and Bros: They make me feel indispensable. They make me feel responsible. They make me feel in charge. They bug me. They make me laugh. They make me feel like having a family like my own. They are my family.

  • C. M.: For being my best pal. My brother. My confident.

  • Rouna and her kids: My Mauritian family (part of it). Rouna, our sister. Our big sister. So proud to show us off to everybody. So proud to tell anyone who'd listen how smart we are. How her little bro (my bro) M just passed his exams her. I love her for being so down to earth, so frank and for trusting us with her kids. They spend their free time at my place. They play hide and seek with no one but me. They call me auntie sometimes. They laugh at my creole accent. My kinky hair just amazes them. They think I was born wearing the hoops am forever adorning my ears with!

  • Sanata: My only cousin who keeps in time from more than 200 hundred cousin both from my mum and dad's side. The only one who calls or writes. The only one who takes it upon herself to advice me on this or that. The only one who, apparently cares.

  • Lau: our newly adopted sister from Côte d'Ivoire. Dad's homeland. I love her for her mordant comments. For her love of French fries. For the way she makes us laugh non-stop when we get her going on a subject. We love her for making us believe that we could love living in Côte d'Ivoire.



  1. The little imperfections I see in each of the people I love.

  • Mama: Intransigent

  • Sisters and Bros: They borrow my stuffs and then pretend the contrary.

  • C. M.: Timid.

  • Rouna and her kids: can't stay still for a mo.

  • Sanata: Cries whenever she talks to mama on the phone.

  • Lau: Can't sing.



  1. My positive input to my relationship with them.

That's for them to say but since they don't blog then:

  • Mama: I make her feel good cause she did a good job raising me.

  • Sisters and Bros: They get my stuffs. I bark then but do not bite. They come to me for advice. I teach them how it feels when you got a job and you're bossed around by your superiors by bossing them around :-)

  • C. M.: We share views on all and everything. He thinks am wise.

  • Rouna & her kids: We share the joys and the sorrows. Am there for her and she's there. Her kids get a sitter for free.

  • Sanata: Am currently choosing a name for her soon to be born baby! Am a good listener. She often needs to talk.

  • Lau: just being friends is positive enough I guess.



  1. The things in my life am grateful for .

  • My family.

  • My character.

  • The way I am.

  • The way I think.

  • The things I do.

  • My life.



  1. The challenges I've taken up to in different fields (profession, romance, relations)

  • Managing to write and speak English to a respectable level in less than a year. Forgive the ... humm. Cosmetic flaws here and there if you pray :-)

  • Managing a Freight Company during the Managers absence for a month.

  • Booking six orders in my first week marketing for a printing company.

  • Succeeding in writing my one (and only but its a good start) Poem. No inspiration since then.

  • Not hearing one single complaint from my superiors in my current job in the course of the year and half I've been here.

  • Being self and financially defendant by age 22 (great by our standards).



  1. The failures or mistakes I would to be able to come back over. What would I do differently?

  • Proving the "love is blind" theory right. I was a complete fool at that. What in God's name made me believe anything could come out of an Internet relationship. Yeah, you heard me right. Now I think I was just fooling myself into thinking I actually was in love or something like that with the fellow. Am glad we never met. Am glad it happened though. Never be making a fool of myself like that.

  • Showing off what I was capable of at work. You end up doing everything you're not assigned to do. You're told no one can do it better so you're left with no choice. Next time, I shall be humble.

  • Failing lamentablement in Maths at the SC level. If I could I'd get back to when I went to Form I and change my class instead of being into the class of that teacher who asked me out then sadistically managed to make me lose all my confidence in Maths when I told him to go to hell. Maybe then things would have been different....



  1. The 10 things which bring me the more instant pleasure everyday.

  • Waking up at dawn.

  • My morning jog on the Sodnac Track while everybody else is still sleeping or curled up under covers.

  • Seeing the people I love.

  • Laughing with them at silly jokes.

  • Having my little sister press my feet after work and my mum massaging my scalp then

  • Curling up in bed with a book.

  • Managing to finish my everyday tasks at work.

  • Receiving comments on my blog.

  • Reading your blogs.

  • Listening to music.



  1. The 10 things which brought me more satisfaction on the long term.

  • Passing my HSC in English Lit, Arabic Lit and Management of Business.

  • Diversifying my work experiences.

  • Teaching myself all and everything I am capable of. Information technology, Italian, sewing, beading etc....

    Long term? Still a lot to learn and do and be satisfied of when your 24 like me....



  1. The Heroes who inspire me, the people I admire more....

  • Oumar Ibn Al Khatab: One of the Muhammad (PBUH), companions. For his good bigheartedness inspite of his hot temper. His sense of justice.

  • Soundjata Keita: A Malian Hero. For his incredible courage.

  • Nelson Mandela: All comes to he who waits. It did come, didn't it?

  •  

     

  1. The 10 things I would like to have the time to experience before I die.

  • Seeing and feeling falling snow.

  • Getting married.

  • Giving birth.

  • Raising them.

  • But before that, meeting someone. THAT someone.

  • Hold hands with THAT someone.

  • Touring the world.

  • Learning how to swim.

  • Fitting in a size 6. (:-)

  • Telling the people I love how much they mean to me.



  1. What I could do, starting from today to succeed in the realisation on the above named projects.

  • Finding THAT someone.

  • Dieting.

  • Going to Uni.



  1. The movies or novels which touched me more.

I apologise for the French Titles. I don't know the English titles of these movies.



  1. The everyday situations which make me stress-prone.

  • My fellow passengers in the van and their dirty-never-makes-me-laugh-jokes

  • The what-he-calls-music the driver relishes to listen to and make listen in the van

  • my next seat neighbour in the van who constantly complains about her kids and her husband or her husband and her kids or her employers or her colleagues ....



  1. What makes me relax, go back to my secret world, my "Moi".

  • Praying

  • Meditating

  • Thinking

  • Reading

  • Listening to music


  1. Quotes, proverbs which inspire me and give me courage.

  • Obtain from yourself all that makes complaining useless.

  • No use crying over spilled milk.

  • Petit à petit l'oiseau fait son nid (= little by little, the bird makes its nest)

  • Nurtute your mind with great thoughts. To believe in the heroic makes heroes.

  • If you don't appreciate it, you don't deserve it.

  • While one person hesitates because he feels inferior, The other is busy making mistakes and becoming superior.

     



  1. What these lists have taught me.

If I want and wish it, whatever it is, I can achieve it.

 


Who are you passing this on:

 

That's all folks!!! And hey, you guys take a read at "Une poignée de Poussière" post. Its the continuance and end of the "Faking Poor" post!!!!

Posted by Fitena at 13:36:01 | Permanent Link | Comments (8) |

October 07, 2005

.... rity

While one person hesitates because he feels inferior,

The other is busy making mistakes and becoming superior.

Posted by Fitena at 07:05:15 | Permanent Link | Comments (4) |

October 05, 2005

"Une Poignée de Poussière"

 

Suley said: “I had a longer response to your last post, but I accidentally navigated away from the page and lost it. oh well. I agree with what you're saying, though. The street beggars are not the "real" poor. "Real" poor people are everyday people who just don't have much. They work and mean well and want to live normal lives. Unlike street beggars they more often than not have their wits about them (ie they're not chemically dependant or mentally ill). I think those who are truly poor have pride and dignity and try to make their lives better through hard work.”

Well, I must say, sounds a lot like me but I totally agree with you! Too bad though, I would have loved reading the longer response.


Jenelle said: “Now *that* is a great question...Unfortunately I don't have an answer.”

J, please see J. Star's comment below. I believe it answers well the question.



J. Star said: “There are degrees of madness. Degrees of inability/ability to function. There are paranoid schizophrenics, but there are also just people who have drank themselves stupid. One of those might realize they have to beg to survive, one of them might not...”

 

Heather said: “I agree with all that was written above, that the real problem here in the US is that there are people who work 4 jobs and can barely feed their families. I would venture to say that for those who suffer mental illness or have chemical dependency, those are conditions that will not change over time. Those poor will be with us for as long as we are here. And the street beggars stateside are very different than those in Niger or India. Esp. in the case of Mistry's novel... I still think everyone should give to the poor, because if you do not give, they will take, eventually. But giving should be as in the giving to a soup kitchen or a place that is set up to provide for the homeless what they need.”

Heather, giving to the poor is not the problem. That's what anybody, human enough and who can afford to, would do. The point is, you have a lot of people out there who deserve not what you will give them. The point is “giving intelligently”. That would imply an awareness about who might be the real needy and whose only last resort is begging and who might just be posing. Like Suley said, the real poor do not beg. They have dignity. They work hard and have as much as 4 jobs like you say and who are still unable to make ends join. The “soup kitchen” solution is the ideal. Since they're begging, apparently, in order to feed themselves why not offer them the food. At least, that prevents the chemically dependant from indulging in whatever it is they indulge themselves in. they do that in France a lot. You have the “Resto du Coeur” (lit. Restaurants of the Heart) chain which provides food for the homeless. Every year, the French People (Singers, Actors/resses etc...) tour the country doing concerts. The money goes to the “Resto du Coeur”.

BTW, your link seems broken.....



M said: “You're from Niger? A friend of mine is there now doing a survey on the famine. Crazy stuff.
I personally almost never give money to people on the street (except for buskers/musicians). This is due to a true story. Once, a few years ago, my mom was walking down the street and a very tired-looking woman came up to her with two grubby kids and asked for some money to buy the kids food. My aunt had had foot surgery the week before, so my mom was actually carrying about $100 worth of groceries. She handed the bags to the woman. The woman threw (actually threw) the bags back at my mom and said "what the fuck is this?!" and stormed off.
What? Sorry, I'm rambling.
Anyway, some realize, some don't...”

No am not from Niger. I lived there. The best years of my life. Six incredibly-unbelievably-beautiful-crazy-years. My childhood. That's where I attended primary school. I miss Niger. What's going on there is crazy. I have a friend, he's a reporter. He told me the other day that inspite of everything happening there, the government is insisting on saying that THERE IS NO PROBLEM.


And M, you're rumbling not. When we were living in Saudi Arabia we had the same experience. It was worst actually. This woman knocked the door. She had a kid with her. Told my mum all about how miserable she was and that she had absolutely nothing to cater for her daughter's needs etc. My mama went in and collected a couple of clothes, covers, food, anything she could think might be of use, some money, put the stuffs in a bag and handed it ti the very grateful poor woman. Shut the door.


At noon Dad got back home for lunch and prayer. He came back carrying the bag and some of the clothes given to the (now in inverted commas) “poor” woman. They were strewn across the stairs. My mum understood not. She went to the next door neighbours to relate what had happened. They were appalled. They couldn't believe they'd been such fools. Not their fault. They had a retarded daughter. She was the one who'd answered the door when the “poor” woman rung the bell. She took a look at the kid and it made her day. She pretended she was a “guerisseuse” (lit. someone who cures diseases). Assured them she could cure the kid. They were so happy, they took off necklaces, rings, bracelets, the five elder sisters and the mother. They couldn't believe their good fortune. All in gold. Took the woman's (invented) phone number. Shut the door and waited with rekindled Hope. Hope never came Back.


Suley's, comment reminded me of a short story I'd read in a book called “Une Poignée de Poussière” (lit. a “Handful of Dust”) by Amadou Hampaté Bâ when I was 10. In Niger. Am narrating it here in my own words.


Once upon a time in an African village lived a rich man in a huge beautiful house. Every morning as soon as he woke up, the rich man would open the curtains and the windows of his bedroom. He'd look at the sky, at the world marveling at the beauty of life.

Every morning, a poor man who lived in the village would pass walking by the gates of the rich man's mansion. Soon the rich man noticed him. He was curious our rich man. He would look at the passing poor man and speculate of the man's life, what he did, where he went, did he have a family. Soon started watching for the poor man's “allers et venues”. Of course, he didn't know then that the man was poor. This unawareness did not last long. He investigated and was told that the man was poor. That he went every morning in the bushes looking for wood he'd sell at the market. That was his only mean of subsistence for him and his wife ad three children. Our rich man felt sorry for this brave poor man who carried himself around with so much dignity. He would never have guessed that this man sold wood for a living. He decided he had to do something to help.


The next morning, our rich man woke up early and went out in front of his gate to wait for our poor man. A little while later he saw him coming down the road. “Peace my Brother!” he called. Our poor man stopped and answered likewise.

“Brother”, started our rich man “I see you everyday going down this road. I've heard about you. They tell me you're an honest, God fearing and brave man. Brother, I would be very grateful if you'd allow the sinner that I am to do good by helping you.” “Help me?” asked our poor man “I gain enough to feed my family. There are many people who are more worthy of your help.” “Brother, I insist! Please do not refuse. Anything you ask for I'd give you. You're praying God for Mercy and Blessings on me and my family would be the greatest reward.”


Our poor man thought a bit. Smiled. Looked hard at our rich man and said “I accept!”. Our rich man beamed and hurriedly thrust his hand in his pocket lest the poor man would change his mind. “Wait,” said the poor man calmly, “you said you'd give me anything. What I shall have would be on my terms.” the rich man looked worried “yes?”. The poor man smiled again and said “I shall be needing a handful of dust only. I'd be very much grateful if you'd give me a handful of dust.” The rich man brows furrowed. He knew the man was not crazy. A handful of dust? If that's what the fellow wanted,then be it. Still perplexed, he bent down, took a handful of dust and poured it into the poor man's raised palm. The poor man thanked him profusely and went to attend to his wood cutting then selling business.


The days went by, the weeks. Every morning the poor man would stop to claim his handful of dust. Less than two months later he stopped by. The rich man too. They stared at each other. “Peace!” “Peace!” our poor man waited. Our rich man stood staring. Our poor man raise an eyebrow inquiringly. The rich man, who now, did not look happy at all thrust his hand into his pocket and took out a handful of notes. He took our poor man's hand and placed in the money. “Look here Brother, I proposed to help you. Here is some money. This i can help you with but am not going to bend down every morning and give you a f.... handful of dust. You want your handful of dust, you bend down and take it yourself! Am not going to take this anymore!! Understood??!) Our poor man smiled calmly. Returned the money. Thanked our rich man and went to the bushes to collect wood.


The moral of the story? I have mine. Let me hear about yours!

Posted by Fitena at 08:13:32 | Permanent Link | Comments (1) |