Puppy

I saw Dr. Hussein taking the turn from the courniche to the campus's bridge this morning as I crossed the road and you know what I did, of course I ran across it (expertly to avoid being run over by Cairo's traffic) and excitedly took a paparazzi shot from behind to commemorate today, a little peeved that he was walking alone without being greeted by anyone on the street, don't they know he is THE Dr. Hussein?

But I quickly matched my step to casually fall beside him and I turned to him, "Assalamualaikum Dr. Hussein, good morning sir."

He smiled, nodded and greeted back the standard "Izzayyik, akhbarik eeh."

"Alhamdulillah, doing fine." I grinned back and "Have a good day today sir," and he nodded gratefully, a small smile and "You too."

I was on hyper mode, super hyper, high and euphoric. To meet him on my way to O&G; a posting I am not that keen on and with a rather nasty mood from a message I received this morning. It was a blessing, alhamdulillah, my day was brightened and nothing can ruin my day now.

I was actually two steps ahead of him then as I didn't want to bother him so that's why I went for a greet-and-bye, but we're going in the same direction and I was really really really excited, have you ever seen me super duper excited? Of course I matched back our pace and asked him the one thing that bugged me from the last week I saw him.

Sir then was going to ask something as I was also going to say something so we both paused and sir said, "Go on, what were you saying?" And I happily blabbed away and sir answered all my hyper ques.

Truthfully I wanted to silently and respectfully walk beside him because I didn't like seeing him walking alone. I didn't want to be friendly because though I love him, I don't think he even remembers me and he seemed a little awkward at my hype. It's the peril of a one-sided love bordering on creepy stalking. But I was really really really so very happy to see him I didn't know what to do with myself.

We parted at the main gate because I had to take the students entrance (yesterday I was already at the patient's entrance on the far right but the effing guard shooed me to the far left student entrance and I was so pissed off I swore to never deal with the stupid stupid restricted entrance rule), and I walked backwards as I wished him a happy day before I ran off excitedly. I kept my eyes on sir and noticed only one guard at the gate saluted him a good morning and it made me so angry. I passed through my gate flashing the guard my ID without so much as a glance at him, mark me I'm never this rude before.

Inside the ground, I kept my eyes on him. It was five to nine and I smiled fondly thinking it was quite a change of pace to see him clocking in by nine instead of usually seeing him making his rounds on the campus before seven. But I quickly wondered; was it a good thing?

I noticed no one greeted him as he steadily walked along the main campus road towards the old Manial Hospital, same place I was going. I wondered if he would be taking the dean's building entrance but he walked pass it towards the north entrance, same entrance I was taking.

I wondered why sir didn't use that entrance. It connects with his Department 29 much faster and I used that route everytime I walk from his lecture to his clinical session. In fact, the dean's building is the fastest route to use if you're going to any middle part of the 2nd or 3rd floor of the Manial Hospital.

But I no longer take it because few days ago when I walked through it, the man standing guard in front sighed but let me pass anyway probably because he was too late to stop me. Sighed and not shouted because I am a Malaysian and not an Arab student. I still use it as an exit route though, buzz off anyone stopping me.

I hate the nowadays strict entrance rule, it made the campus less friendly.

As I observed him walking steadily towards the north entrance, silently passing people with a solemn look, I wondered why no one greeted him. He's the ex dean... Coupled with him not using the dean's building entrance, it felt like he was couped out of his title.

Yeah.. he was.

With him was an electric kettle box and his coat hung on his arm. Did the department's kettle broke down and he bought one to replace it? Turned right at the north entrance and I walked straight for my O&G Hospital, my eyes caught him taking the stairs. I skipped and charged forward to one of the happiest day of my life.

Until I realised we parted without me giving sir the chance to say what he was going to say. HARUUUUU YOU STUPIDDDDDDD!!!

I cursed my retardation. This was more retarded than forgetting to prescribe diuretics to a nephrotic patient in my written MBBCh Batnah!! (I laid out a lengthy case management but after I got back did I realise I forgot Lasix FML.) I went exactly like a puppy yapping excitedly whenever I see him. Where did all my cool gone to?

Please Allah give me the chance to run into him again please please please I promise I will behave and be remembered properly.

It was fun

Two days ago I went out half an hour before Maghrib to buy fresh chicken. I chose the bird and waited outside the shop as the guy cleaned up and cut the bird. The grocer opposite was open and people came and went (eh is this right?) and there were two elders sitting in front of the closed fish shop beside it.

I just stood there, a girl standing alone amidst puddles of suspicious origin (chicken water perhaps, urgh) with her hands in her grey sweater pocket. I still needed to buy pasta and vegetables from the same alley, but I only had LE100 with me and they probably had no change, so it was wiser to pay for the chicken first. It was awkward with a total of nearly seven Arab guys around me, but what else to do but wait for my chicken?

I noticed a girl, about five years old wearing pink-grey sweater suit, playing football by herself in the same alley. She kicked the ball slowly and talked loudly to herself. The ball got away, she walked down to the ball passing behind me, and while still talking to herself, she steadied the ball where it was and kicked it away.

She walked back to the ball and kicked it again in my direction. It stopped near me and my right foot automatically recognised a ball as what it is; something legit to be kicked. I myself was wearing jeans and my Arsenal jersey, black headscarf and maroon Converse. Football appropriate. I steadied the ball with my right foot and the girl stood where she was, waiting expectantly. My hands still in my pocket and I coolly kicked the ball towards her. Then I turned back to face the chicken shop, but I was still eying her from the corner of my eyes.

The ball reached her. She looked up at me briefly and kicked the ball. I took the cue and catched the pass. Steadied the ball and waited as the girl walked farther away. She turned around to face me and said something, more to herself than to me. I kicked the ball back to her and wondered what kind of picture this made; a self-minding little girl (I had a good mind to go full-blown Child Psychiatry on her) and an awkward foreigner in a narrow puddled alley, kicking a tattered ball back and forth.

The uncle who usually work the meat slicer smiled at me approvingly.

Oh what the hell, let's forget the chicken and just play ball in this alley. They'll call me when it's done.

We passed the ball back and forth and the girl kept going farther and farther away, forcing me to kick the ball harder to make the long pass. Once I missed and hit the chair the elder was sitting on with a bang. "Aaah ma3alish!" I automatically bowed and my hands shot out from my pockets in an apology gesture. The other elder laughed at me, but he simply pushed the ball with his leg back at me and the game continued. Another time I kicked the ball underneath one of the veggie crates, and the girl had to reach down to retrieve it.

Urgh, I'm out of practice. The last time we played futsal properly was Paediatric!

The meat-slicing uncle stood near me as I waited for the girl to pass me the ball. "Here we call it qurrah," he said. "What do you call it?"

"We call it bola, sir." I answered, playing the diplomatic Malaysian.

Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw that my chicken was done. I went back inside the store and paid for it. I stepped back out and customarily thanked the uncle.

"What's your name?" He asked kindly.

I frequented the shop a lot of times in my six years here (my previous apartment, the one that caught fire, was in fact above the grocer opposite this chicken shop), but only now did I make an impression enough to be asked by name from this local. I grinned proudly.

"My name is Hana," I pronounced it with the proper Tajwid instead of giving out the easier Nur, a name I find too Malay-generic and reserved for the random Arabs. "What's your name sir?"

"My name is Zenhoum," he smiled back.

"Nice to meet you Amm Zenhoum. See you around."

And I went to buy my pasta and vegetables, leaving the girl to play by herself.

Pitiful Ghoul

Disclaimer: Rated 18+ for profanity deliberately written long after the storm has passed thus on purposeful calmed and rational mind. This is me in crude and vulgar mode. Do not proceed.

I am blessed with this particular good friend. I know for fact she is because she befriends me. I'm a difficult person; part-time amiable, most of the time taciturn, analytical and understanding but not usually bothered to soothe people emotionally. In a social setting I am functional but cross slightly into intimacy and I turn into a glaring potato.

But she's a good friend, she tolerates me. I am not pressed to change because she accepts me and my stupidity. And as a sign of gratitude, I try to behave and do my best not to mistreat her.

And I get especially pissed off when a mutual friend misbehaves and mistreats her.

The both of us were in this project where I was the consultant and her assistant. The night before it was due, a mutual friend of her peer position had a meltdown that made him react in a way that defied the existence of our organized team.

My first respond was to laugh cruelly. "Did you tell him the F word?"

When you call yourself a partner and part of the team, you do not make significant changes to the project without prior consultation.

You ask for support when you're emotionally in need keeping in mind that everything you say and do will have an effect however small to the sail of the project.

You pay attention to suggestion and discussion and they become a basis for your decision. Do not suggest last minute changes towards your rejected suggestion when the project had long decided to go along with your relatively troublesome suggestion in the first place.

Good teamwork supports each other's strength and weaknesses. However it is not a scaffolding to be used as scapegoat for anyone's ego.

I know first-hand she needs time to adapt to sudden changes thus how hard she had been working to plan and rehearse everything this whole week. And suddenly, the night before.. something unnecessary and totally avoidable.. no respect whatsoever to organization..

I was livid and I told her analytically why the scum deserved pity but no mercy and how I would proceed.

She was scared. "That moment you wished he sleeps well, your face was really psychopathic."

Morning came and the afternoon the project sailed, I was also there as they talked over the problem. Our mutual friend said sorry and I nodded, accepting it. We make mistakes, we apologise, we rectify it and we don't do it again. This is the way of the esteemed dean of Kasr el Ainy.

But then the princess laughingly followed his apology with the stupidest lame excuse to cover up for the holy jerkiness. He reasoned that what he did was to test her. "If I did it to Hana, she'll rebel back. But you only rebelled a little."

"You didn't see me last night!" I commented in anger but quickly bit my lips in an effort to not make things harder for my good friend, whose face already tightened as she played her polite friend role.

Do we look retarded? If it was a joke, that was the most untimely insensitive joke of the year. I prayed that he will just shut up to save what little remaining of respect and pity I had for him, but no, in poor judgement he made a turn for the worse in a pitiful attempt at covering up for his meltdown.

If the night before I pitied him at his inability to manage his meltdown despite the selfish bastard pulling the effingest back-stabbing scum, that day I thought he was the epitome of uncool. Pretty hair and brilliant brain wasted on such a rotten heartless ghoul.

I told my good friend that I hate him for heinously mistreating my good friend. That I am going to stay away from any work and what more personal relation with said bastard. He is a mere last-resort colleague now.

"But he was a friend in need," she reasoned for me not to give up.

He was until the moment he used you as a scapegoat for his ego. I will not accept such attitude. "So you're still going to consider the bastard friend?"

She laughed sheepishly. "Yes. I hope he realise that I know he was covering up and he know I was being polite to save his face."

Of course. Despite that he didn't bother to save any of our faces, we should never regress to his scum level of doing the same to him. It will be cruelty to humanity if I corrupt her out of her kind way, so I decided to keep watch on them. "Good for you. Please confirm that he realised that. You really are a.."

I deliberated on my choice of word and decided to leave it hanging. I turned around towards my apartment.

"I'm a what?"

"You're the kindest creature God ever created." Truly she reaffirmed my belief that Allah is The Most Merciful, and He bless chosen servants with some degree of His merciful character.

She laughed. "But I don't want him to think I'm a gullible easy friend."

My good friend, I call him a bastard because he clearly treated you like what you just said. "I just hope you remember that this isn't the first time he did this to you, neither is this going to be the last."

Her face changed. She memorises things better than me, but obviously I remember and understand things better than her. I bid her adieu.

When the next time comes, I'll slash the guy's throat myself.

Better than some ustat

Bro A: Where are you from?
Date: Malaysia.
Bro A: Oh. Have you found the plane?
Me: Yeah. In the Indian Ocean.. So you're from China? Where in China is it?

Bro B: Where do you guys live?
Date: Abbasiyyah.
Me: Sayyeda Zainab.
Bro B: What?! Sayyeda Zainab?! Dangerous! Egypt is not safe with the demonstratioms and all. It's far from here, why are you here? Next time don't come to this restaurant anymore!
Me: Whyyyy? (Cmon this is my first time here and I'm no longer welcomed?)
Bro A: The Egyptians are not good people nowadays.

Bro A: Do you study in Al-Azhar?
Date: Nope, in Ain Shams.
Me: I study in Kasr el Ainy, Cairo U.
Bro A: Medicine?
Me: Yeah.
Bro A: I'm studying at Cairo U too.
Me: What are you taking?
Bro A: Kuliah adab.
Me: Oh.
Bro A: Did you have class today in the morning?
Me: Yeah we did. Why?
Bro A: We didn't. There was a huge demonstration at the main campus today.
Me: But I'm sure our medical faculty was still in order this morning..
Bro A: Really?

Bro B: Did you come from Sayyeda by the Metro?
Me: Yes.
Bro A: It's dangerous... (They both discussed in Chinese pretty seriously.)
Me: But I'm staying at her place in Abbasiyyah, should be okay.
Bro B: Oh okay.

Bro A: Where in Abbasiyyah do you live? We live there, let us take you back.
Date: No no no it's okay.
Bro B: Don't worry! We are good people. Consider us your fathers.
Me: Gahahaha. Seriously, it's okay.
Bro A: Wait we want to pray Maghrib first.
Me: Okay bye thanks for the meal. Run!

Too Korean

Handsome Kid On The Block

He was a black dan kid so that made him one of Madam's lackeys. He arrived midway through warming up and went directly to his fellow black dan lackey conducting warm up at the front to properly bow his respect. Properly. With the right amount of stiff. Respectful.

That was a good impression on me. He ran towards the back and righted a junior's stance. Responsible.

This kid was after my own heart.

They were then practicing the basic punches and kicks. One of the white belt hubaes had a wardrobe misfunction and so said lackey stopped warming up and pulled the junior out of formation. Like a good hyung, he proceeded to tie the uniform and belt for him, hubae standing still as hyung wrapped his arms around his waist to tie the belt on neatly. A green belt hubae also had a malfunction and hyung was readily the stylist of the day.

Warming up over. He leaned on the wall, arms crossed while eying red belt juniors practiced hitting the plank from the corner of his eyes with a solemn expression.

He was probably a sixth grade student max, about 1.2 meter tall but already he was living an example of a raised-well son. This, people, is why I am a pedophile.

Shit. He's tying another hubae's belt again. And he caught me staring at him. Argh.

Monkey And The Don

Maru was practicing his pattern. To our family honour's horror, he wasn't being serious! He punched like a sissy and kicked like a wuss. After he was done, he ran and slid back to his friends like a retired bowling ball before looking around for me.

Hunching on my plastic seat and exuding boss-mafia aura despite only two hours of sleep last night, I looked him in the eye and signaled him to come over.

I told him to punch and kick like I refused to tell him where I hid Big Bro's birthday gift for him. He cringed. I told him to punch and kick harder or I wouldn't tell him where his birthday presents are.

I believe I made him an offer he couldn't refuse.

The Dance

My taekwon do instructor used to threaten us whenever we make a mistake during practice. Flirt with that big tree until it says I love you back, or so was his words. He was then a young adult.

I never knew how to flirt with a tree until it says I love you to me or how to flirt, period. However, it did occur to me the creepiness of being loved by a tree, so I usually resort to running laps whenever I did a punishable mistake.

But today, looking at the stump where the big tree used to be, I suppose if someone lean onto its tough mighty trunk and do a sexy wave, that probably will get the tree to swoon and drool I-love-yous all over them.