"I never knew Andro covers animals too now."

Today we had our Andrology & Dermatology viva, each for 10 marks. My group for Andro probably had the most resilient professor in Egypt who vivaed all 15 of us a minimum of 20 minutes each. Two people of other groups went for their viva and the person from ours was still not done yet. The earlier people were apparently asked everything from cover to cover of the Andrology book, haha. It was a challenge waiting.

I was the third last to be vivaed and I went home at 12.20pm. And I thought my long case was long. (I went home that day at 11am plus.)

Roy, Allah bless her, got the hardest question in the entire curriculum. She was asked everything about female infection. Tasnim told me they had this in the department CD but nobody taught us this subject, this is Andro, duh. Quite unfair, but Allah definitely grant Roy great marks for this. She gallantly answered with what she remembered from Gynae.

Meanwhile, Fadzlin the last person in our group to be vivaed got the.. randomest question in the entire curriculum.

"What is a snail?"

She is a very expressive person so I can only imagine she reacted to  the question with an exasperated derp face, hahahah. But this is an MBBCh final exam, one must be serious for marks.

"Snail is an amphibian with a shell on its back," answered Lin the genius student.

"Wrong," the doctor said. "It's an animal that lives on a beach."

Hahahahahahahahahahahahaha why the beach not the river! Was he referring to Gary? Did he watched Spongebob with his grandkids?

FYI, Egypt doesn't have snails as liberally as we do in Malaysia. That's the first thing I realised when I got here. The only snail I think most urban Cairenes are familiar with are the snails populating the Nile, famous for being the intermediate hosts of schistosoma.

The only snail related to Andrology that I know was "snail-like tract" describing the mucous patches in secondary syphilis. Her subsequent ques was probably the same set of questions I got.

---

I was studying Chest with Jiha just now and she called it a day but it was only 11.30pm so I raised a complaint. She amended.

"I forgot. You continue studying, you're an owl. A highly educated owl."

Opposite me in her room was her mid-body length mirror, and I stared into my reflection scrutinising the huge bags I have underneath my eyes. I even have lines under my eyes, it's so not 24. When I went to exam this morning, I chanced upon akak2 Arab who were immaculately made up, perfect foundation with no sign of sleep deprivation under their eyes. I thought how lucky they were.

But I'm not jealous. Ryuuzaki has bags. Ryuuzaki is cool. I want to be genius and cool like Ryuuzaki.

Pejabat Tanah said so

While waiting for yesterday's clinical exam to start, us Kelantanese were discussing the flood back home. A classmate then asked me, "Why are you so involved? Are you a Kelantanese?"

We sort of had a moment of silence to appreciate the situation before I answered him dryly. "Dude we're batchmates since 6 years. Yes I am."

"How would I know. You don't speak Kelantan."

"No, I don't."

---

The only people in my generation who know I'm a Kelantanese are people from my primary and secondary school, people who met me in Kelantan, and people who know me well. Everyone else thinks I'm from Selangor or KL. They're not wrong.

I don't blame others. I don't even speak Kelantan with my orang kampung. Blame it on Meksu because I took it personally when she said during our first year here that I sounded Siamese, grr. Here in Egypt I speak Kelantan with Nik sometimes out of habit (she's the only one from my secondary school here), with Adakun sometimes because she's my housemate, and with Dhia because the boy doesn't reply me unless I speak English or Kelantan with him. Though really, it's getting disuse atrophy. Probably because I don't eat budu unless I have it served in my nasi kerabu.

But I assure you, I am a Kelantanese. It's where I call home and where I vote. And according to Pejabat Tanah, I am a Kelantanese because I've lived in Kelantan more than ten years (21 years now).

That is my last card to dispute people, but Umair had a big laugh when I used this. Hahah.

Praise my brain

I'm a logical person and at my best I am rational. I highly appreciate brilliance, witty banter, sarcasm and the likes.

So if you want to lie to me, do so in a brilliant way that makes me appreciate the complexity and the intelligence you put into lying. Make me impressed at your elaborate effort and I will laugh at it, you might even be forgiven for attempting to lie in my face. Otherwise I will be homicidal that you are insulting my intelligence by thinking I will fall for such shit.

I'm only asking you to think before you speak. Nothing insult me more than an insult to my intelligence. It's not even that high in the first place so it can't be that hard to fork out the effort.

But of course, honesty is always easier. No need to think about it. Boring, but the best.

Today is not the day good people keep quiet just because they don't have anything good to say

I pity Muhyiddin for using this time of crisis to polish his look with his statement "Najib doesn't have to hurry back, I as the TPM can handle shits". He not only made us lose hope in what little managerial prowess of the ruling party with this blatant show of power struggle during a nationwide flooding crisis, he also made Najib look two times stupider by saying "Najib is a human being, he needs a well deserved holiday" and proved himself as a world-class backstabbing whore.

Najib and his ass (literal and figurative) bared to the world. Even if he comes home with US monetary aid and Apaches, people will forever be sore at him ditching us.

I have always have a problem with the mentality "asalkan Melayu berkuasa". We're few days away from 2015 and should stop judging people by their skin. See for yourself the Malays sendiri yang khianat rakyat Malaysia. Injustice is injustice, fullstop. People are either good or bad and no one is perfect so the choice to make is the lesser of numerous evils. If it was the Kelantan MB going for an umrah during this time of crisis, I would still be skinning him alive.

My rant is not politically motivated. I am just mad we're not doing better than this at the evacuation and help distribution.

This flood crisis management is downright an injustice to the people directly and indirectly affected. And after the flood subside, let a full report especially pre-flood preparatory and risk factors assessment be disclosed and we will skin those who deserve to be skinned. Blow the siren and mobilize all our resources already!

Tomorrow I'm having my Long Case Batnah for 50 marks and today you have me, in tears.

And ends with a cool smile

Today we finished our ECG and Radio exam. Next up is Long Case on Saturday. So tonight Geng Perkasa was at it again.

We went to Dept 23 but no residents were in sight. Proceeded to Dept 24 and asked for a valve case. The resident gave his go and this ammu ushered us in to meet the patient.

51 years old male admitted since 20 days from easy fatigability and dyspnea of 6 months. Scheduled for a mitral valve replacement next week. I was clerking. It really was out of habit to greet and directly pull out my piece of paper and the others should really stop me from doing so. The patient had fun with me, I must say.

"How old are you sir?"
"How old do you want me to be?" With a great big smile and a round of merry laughter from everyone around. He had a large group of family with him. Syaimaa said it didn't help that my reaction to him was amusing.

"Do you have problems anywhere else?"
"Of course I have. I married four!"
"Hahaha no wonder you're admitted with fatigue!"

"How many kids you have?"
"3 by 9."
"Whaaat!" Eyes wide with amazement.
"Just kidding. I have 3 kids." Laughed.

His sister subtly apologized to me for the hard time. "He is a funny guy. He's only married once btw, there's his wife." Damn he reminded me of Jackster whose words I pitifully take seriously. I mean, I was clerking okay. No wonder I felt weird why would a four-times married 51 years old only has 3 kids.

Ps: Conversations above were in Arabic.

We excuse ourselves as the patient wouldn't allow examination because his wife was concerned. We didn't push, it's either yes or no. Despite this being a teaching hospital, most patients come here because they don't have money, not because they actually want to be examined by students. So you have to always be kind and respectful to them. They are our teachers. We only took a look at his CXR showing cardiomegaly from LV, LA, RA and pulmonary dilatation.

---

We discussed the case but it wasn't much considering we didn't do any clinical. So we went back to Dept 23 and chanced upon the resident closing up the resident room. Iskun introduced us and asked if he was going home and if there's anyone replacing him for the night. He said he was going home and there's no one coming after him. I was feeling deflated.

But then he added. "Do you need something?"

And proceeded to bring us to the ward. He was on duty in the CCU and so didn't know what case in the ward, but he went to show us three patients tonight that he picked out on the spot. He auscultated, let each of us auscultate and present our findings before he discussed the findings with us.

The doctor was so awesome and kind and generous and as we walked behind him, Ume turned to Iskun and said "Nanti kau kena jadi doktor baik macam dia jugak."

I interjected. "Kita semua laa kena jadi macam dia!" And yes I want to be handsome like him. Selflessly taking his time to teach us noobs, who is this angel?!

"My name is Waleed. Apa nama kamu?" He asked Iskun back. Whaaaat?!

Apparently he studied in Ukraine and had many Malaysian friends then. He even went to KL for a 5-days vacation months ago. From his accent he wasn't an Egyptian and he is currently doing his MD in Cardiology. Lankier than Iskun, clean-shaven, rusty brown hair.

I patted Ume's back. "Abangah." And smirked. He is one calon I approve of.

He auscultated, let each of us auscultate and present our findings before he discussed the findings with us. He spent time and was patient with us! It was definitely one of our most productive nights in the hospital. We had a patient with aortic click and MR, another with pulmonary hypertension and the third had a TR and a MR. I got the first two wrong (kah2 deaf) and swore to myself to get the third right.

And I didddddddddddd! Imma proud of myself haha and mashaAllah that was the loudest TR I ever heard.

---

"Do you take classes with Dr. Ashraf Zaki?"

"No. Just one of us." We pointed at Pait.

"So you don't take classes with him?" He addressed Iskun who denied. He continued. "You are lazy. They say boys are lazy. Lazier-" he turned to us girls. "Girls are lazy too, but boys are lazier."

Hahahaha omg omg.

---

Ume had a funny moment. She hesitated with her answer so Dr. Waleed told her to be confident.

"It's either there is a murmur or there's no. Either systolic or diastolic."

"But I'm shyyy." I guess you can imagine how Ume said that.

And then at the end of the night, as we parted, Ume asked him where was he from because his accent was not Egyptian.

Dr. Waleed threw a cool smile over his shoulder. "But you said you were shy." He waved and off he went, leaving us bursting into laughter at Ume's blushing face.

---

This is probably the last of Geng Perkasa consisting of me, Ume, Pait, Syaimaa, Wani (she wasn't here tonight) and Iskun. I hope we get good marks, Iskun gets his Mumtaz, and we become responsible and great doctors who will not forget the teamwork we had.

:)

After 6 chapters, finally a review

Tsuru Tsuru to Zara Zara no Aida is a good read. It's very light-hearted, matured despite the mains are middle-schoolers (rekindles me hope in Japanese society), and I like the pace. It's a Seinen and Slice of Life. Not a Shoujo, haha.

I'm always picky when it comes to the heroine and thus limit the manga I read, but Saya-chan really is admirable. She likes reptiles, she approaches the person she likes respectably and their relationship proceed with walking home and talking about random stuffs. That time when Takumi-kun was troubled about something, she sensed it but didn't pester him and I assumed he found peace in simply being with her. The kids are well-brought up and the adults are around. I've read too many mangas hailing friendship but not family, it sucks.

Shoujo can really test my patience. I told a junior I will recommend good Shoujo to him, poor kid (hi Azri) considered Ao Haru Ride as the best Shoujo and I'm like, dude come on mangas are better than that! But I'm having a hard time shortlisting. The ones worth recommending are either Seinen or Josei, haha.

Things not to do in a viva #2

I was so silly today for Batnah viva I have to document it. Apart from that, today's achievements include greeting Dr. Raafat at the car park on my way out of campus. He was walking and talking with this one man and I just stopped in my track and turned to him expectantly waiting to greet him. He was kind enough to turn around for a hello. It was amusing, really.

Second was two legends actually liked a post I shared on FB. This is the legendary Akr*m and Ha*izi we're talking about! I should ask for an autograph. 

Okay, on with the viva.

---

First viva was with Dr. Heba our mother. Her first question was emergency causes of chest pain, which was the lecture she taught when we were fifth years, so I answered fluently as per she taught.

She gave me a smile and she fired another question, and we kept at that rapid pace until she came to this question.

"What is the normal serum level of creatinine?"

"Erk," no no I forgot this one. "Sorry, I don't know the normal."

"It's okay, take time to think. I have been asking too rapidly anyway."

She tried potassium and I answered correctly. She asked me what was the indications for dialysis.

"Serum creat," I grinned in revelation. "Serum creat more than 9 mg/dL..."

"Good. So the normal value is?"

"Less than 9?"

She laughed. I laughed with her because I know I was not wrong but not exactly right either.

"The answer is less than 1. Okay, what else in the body we need it less than 1?"

Oh oh. Did I mention I hate numbers? I mumbled and crossed out substances but she still waited for me. Dr. Heba helpfully supplied "Something in the liver."

"-transaminase, no? Ah, INR."

She laughed again. I laughed too. Cmon, I wasn't wrong :p

"Yes we need it not more than 1," she shook her head, at my silliness perhaps. "But something else."

"Bilirubin," I answered.

"Yes, correct."

So cheeky this girl. Reckless tahap ape main2 MBBCh. Go die la.

---

I was probably high from all the silliness when I vivaed with Dr. Mohamed El Khattib. He taught us in Dept 31 during our fifth year and this year he lectured us Glomerular Diseases. I know he's a merry man.

And his opening question was treatment of status epilepticus. When I realised I forgot about epilepticus but I damn well remember down to the dose for status asthmaticus (old name for severe acute asthma), I shook my head and chuckled.

"Why isn't it asthmaticus?"

It was station Neurology silly. Sir asked Dr. Heba didn't the kids studied epilepticus in the course because no one seemed to be able to answer him. I would have liked to assure him we didn't. I attend my lectures, this wasn't in!

Or did it?

Dr. Heba assured him it was taught. She turned to me and said "Take a breath and answer."

Thank you for the confidence in me, doctor. Dr. Mohamed turned to me and rested his elbows on the table, a pose I took as he was giving me chance to redeem myself. "Patient is convulsing non-stop. What are you going to do?"

I looked up to him with confidence. "General measures. First I will make sure..."

The thing I saw as I answered was my eclampsia note. That was O&G.

---

"Okay now, treatment of bilharziasis."

I stared off for a while, scrolling through my mind. Where is this bilharziasis? Liver? Periportal fibrosis.. They used to use glass syringe to administer the drugs and infect people with HCV instead.

Eh where's the name of the drug? It's not metronidazole, I know. Haru was doing "Aaaaaaaaaaaa" in my head until the doctor cut her short.

"Come on, bilharziasis." The merry sir grinned.

I grinned back helplessly. "The name is not coming out. Ask me something else please." Like typhoid maybe.

"Okay. Fasciola."

We burst out laughing at the same time. Because I was totally screwed hahahahaha.

---

As always, post viva the AJK Akademik will make these forms. I like the template this time, catso catso! Those folks really are racking in pahalas, Allah bless them and their backbones.

Viva is the day after tomorrow and here I am

I am going to go aurora-hunting immediately after the exam but JPA strung us for a 3-weeks clinical attachment at the hospital after the exam, so yeah. Gotta do as the boss says. So I am postponing it after the graduation, but news is the next intake is on 15th March 2015. I am planning to start working by May but who knows when the immediate next intake will be on? We have a program in Malaysia scheduled for April, but with this new announcement.. do I have to run back as soon as I graduate and register for the 15th? Huh.

In conclusion, I am short on time. Once I'm back for good in Malaysia, I don't think I'll be up to anywhere around Europe. Why would I spend 12 hours in-flight? My priorities will shift towards adventure in the East side of the world.

I can't say how my travelling going to be once I start working, but I'll try my best. I will take short vacations to visit relatives or do volunteer works, and hurry become a specialist so that I can go on field work and present papers around the world. But I hope I can make it to Japan in August for the summer rock festival. Maybe 2015 (maybe not) or 2016 once stabled or 2017 after I completed my HO.

When are you gonna settle down?
I can't with just a HO title to my name. Need to be more respectable only then I'd feel proud to stand next to him.
You aim too high laa try lower.
Why should I settle for lower?
You're gonna die a spinster.
Let's formally register for organ donation before that.

Time, huh. I can't believe I am already in the "have money and energy but no time" phase of life. Today I felt like a Kenzo sweater might make me happier than travelling somewhere.

Don't sweat it. I'm writing things down to rid it off my mind. I plan all these things with inconclusive possibility of executing them. It's always more possible death comes before any of these, hehe.

---

Next exam is Monday, Batnah viva (that's Internal Medicine in Arabic) for 20 marks. All these years I will say "I'd rather sit another written exam than go for a viva" but the written MBBCh was that hard I am not even going to joke about sitting for it in place for anything.

Please pray I don't embarrass myself in front of the doctor and a fullmark, please please?

Always on the receiving end and not contributing back is shameful

A friend asked me about my graduation plan. When I told her my family is coming, she asked me whether I will go back to Malaysia for good together with them.

My answer shot out immediately with a frown. "No way! There's still so much to do here!" 

She chuckled and said she would. I didn't comment because I know she was the dependent type of people. But God, shameless.

---

The most important thing to do as a Kasr el Ainy graduate before I go back for good is to make sure the official documents I need for my registration for work in Malaysia are completed by then and tie up every batch projects we have. Usually the documents are settled by few representatives from the batch and I know there are people in my batch who are selfless and will organise and make things easier for everyone else.

(Ps: Mind you, I am talking in context of a Kasr el Ainy graduate, not inclusive of other posts each of us may hold in Egypt.)

But for how long are we going to keep imposing on them like that? They don't owe us that, they're not getting paid, they do what they do out of sincerity and may Allah protect them and bless them endlessly. They grow their interpersonal skills and mature their character as a contributing member of the society, but what about us in the receiving end?

To go about my own personal pleasure pursuit and to keep relying on them feels too irresponsible for me. We're soon to be doctors already, how long are we going to be accepting instead of contributing? As I accept people's kindness, I ask myself what kindness have I done or can do for them. They contributed to our batch and I benefitted, but what have I done to contribute to the batch and benefit others back?

The worst thing is that it's always the same old people who handle these things and you have to admit, this problem is more prominent with the males. I feel ashamed of myself everytime that happened. For God sake, we have around 40 guys and 60 girls in our batch!

We have projects apart from settling the official documents, namely The Yearbook and The Graduation Dinner and I'm sure there are other loose ends I am unaware of. Let's do our best together.

On second thought, they're not playthings, aren't they?

I like kids a lot. The second thing to that that I like is rough-housing them. And for that reason, I like tougher kids better. With fragile-looking kids especially girly girls, I will just smile from afar and gently pinch their cheeks because they're too fragile for anything else.

And because of that, I hope to have two boys of my own. And maybe a girl. Even then I hope she will turn out smart and independent and not an emotional wreck.

So when Umair said they will be babysitting Huda this morning while Anah and Hilmi settle their visas, I didn't think too much about it. Huda has a small build and she very much doesn't enjoy being wrestled. I made her cry the last time I saw her.

But do you know what I ended up doing all morning? I played with her hair and always reached for the comb to keep her hair in place. I cleaned up after her (and those sloths for girls) and ate all the food she didn't finish (you know how babies like to eat one bite of everything. Huda thankfully left 1/5). I watched Upin Ipin with her (the other questioned why I was engrossed watching cartoons) and will patiently call her to sit farther away from the TV and reward her with a "good girl" when she does. Or I get up and gently carry her away myself, making sure she could still see the TV despite the movement. I asked questions about her upbringing, her diets..

The only time I think I bullied her was when I clamped her down between my legs so she wouldn't squirm so much when I tie her hair, and it was only for a second! I quickly released her and we put her for her afternoon nap.

So now I suppose I do want a girl. I'll grow her hair out and do all those cute braids and stuffs. And I'll be a mom who carries a comb in her pocket. Doing people's hair is oddly therapeutic.

Jinx

Yesterday was 17th December 2014, a Wednesday. We finished all our final written papers and awaiting are vivas. Umair invited me over for a movie night and that dusk, I picked my Neurology book and packed my Kipling sling bag for a sleepover.

And then I hesitated.

18th December 2013, a Wednesday. My housemates had just finished all their written papers and three of them (Kak Milah, Kak Teha and Kak Amal) went out that night for a sleepover at their friend's. That night, a fire started in Kak Amal's room. I ran off that night with said Kipling bag and my Neurology book.

The similarities were too much. Maybe I should stay at home and keep an eye on things, make sure the apartment won't catch fire this time.

But it was superstitious and I refused to believe I carry with me a jinx of any sort. If I stay at home because of this, it will belittle all faith I have in Allah as the One and Only God. But if I do go out..

The anxiety was too much. PTSD is not something to take lightly.

Stop being anxious and just control what you can control. So I sorted out my room and pulled out every single electrical plugs especially the heater. Before I exit my room, I took a good look at my belongings. My important documents were safe. If a fire really happened and all my books burned together, I won't sweat it and I will buy new books. I grabbed my Note that I usually leave behind when I go out and put it in my bag, because it contained all my books in PDF. I looked at my backpack stashed in the corner and decided I'm okay even if this one caught fire.

My favourite mugs (a mediaPERU*ATAN from Bapis and an heirloom from Kak Bid) were on my table and I thought if a fire started in my room, they'll be safer in the kitchen washed and dried. So I carried them out and exited my room. My housemate walked pass me and sent her regards to the girls at Umair's. I stopped in my track and in a totally out-of-character fashion, I told her grimly

"Watch over the house. If anything happens, please call me immediately."

Usually, I will vaguely tell my housemates where I'm going and most of the time it's a "bye I'm out" without elaboration. And I don't announce if I'm not coming back that night. The reason why people know where I was going yesterday was because Umair publicly invited me on FB post. So it was not a surprise when my housemate followed me to the kitchen and pestered just as grimly.

"Why did you say that? What's going on?"

"Nothing," I was washing the mugs. "Just call me."

"Tell me. Did something happened last night?"

She looked spooked. And then I realised she probably thought I was referring to some unexplained paranormal-ish bouts of activity we thought were going on.

So I smiled softly and told her what was bothering me. She looked relieved but not exactly, and told me everything will be fine.

That night was the one night I periodically checked my phone.

Haru is a dude

There's something I need to work on.

This evening I met Heba and talked to her. She seemed to have grown even taller than the last time we met and I felt guilty how I thought she was like a giraffe when she had to stoop so low to brush cheeks with me. Anyway that's not my point.

Heba was talking bullet fast in English and I barely answered back. And I'm not sure what the problem was.

(a) Language. I write better in English than I can in my own mother tongue and I even think in English. But in real life I speak fluently in Malay way better than I can in English.

(b) Interpersonal. Because I haven't seen her in a very long time and I don't really know her that well personally, I went into neutral mode. That translates to being more agreeable and less sharing my opinions, thus the setback.

(c) Gender issue. She chatted about her living arrangement and I was more listening than I was commenting. She was being a normal girl while I.. I think I behaved more like a dude then. Is this bad or is this not bad? I took a quiz recently and it said I think 100% like a guy.

But I'm a healthy straight female!

If it's (a), this means I need a real living person next to me and just speak my mind. Haru, materialise now kudasai!

If it's (b), then I need a better social protocol otherwise risk bore people out. Diplomats like Khadijah and Roy have an admirable personality, but I know I can never be that (cunningly) good with people. I'm a Choleric, not Sanguine by default. I'll learn though.. It'd be like Sasuke learning from Naruto how not to be an ice cube.

If it's (c), then I'm doomed.. Maybe I need to ask how the girls think of me in this context. Other than that, I don't know what to do. Truthfully in general, I find girls annoying. I kind of like being a girl who thinks like a guy.

But actually, Haru is a girl. And you know how stupid girls get when they go into shoujo mode.

It can't be helped that I like CNBLUE's music so much that I'm starting to pay attention to the members, and this is the trigger for this second half of this rant. I've been hooked on CNBLUE to the point reality seemed blurred. But I have repented and learnt my lesson from this episode. Let me share it here, not exactly in a particular order:

(1) When you feel, justify. Scrutinise until you can't break it down anymore, until there is no doubt that you are feeling what you are feeling. If you like something, ask yourself which part of it you like. Ask yourself why you like it. Don't settle for bullshit like "I don't know. Love is blind" because you will be blinded.

(2) Don't confuse an idea for the real deal. A clear example is how I love the idea of eating keropok right now, but to get up and fry some and the calories... so leceh. You get the idea, right?

(3) Don't start what you can't envision how it will end well. Don't entertain the idea of someone if you can't see the possibility of marrying him. Don't confess I love you but then do nothing proactive. It hurts them and it hurts you. If you have to let go, might as well don't even start.

But this point is clearly debatable.

A: How would you know the end of something you didn't even start? How guaranteed is that the protocols you came up with will be? This itself is an idea, not the real deal.
H: We will discuss this later.
A: You're a coward.
H: I like that song, I must be one.

(4) There is more to life than romantic love. This is probably the most important lesson I learned. People say youth is the time to experience love, but bear in mind love has many shades. Don't hung all your hope on romantic love. Experience life, it is short!

(5) I do, indeed, am attracted to another me. Which is a tiresome trap. I would date myself if I want to settle for a great spouse who will accept me as I am, but I want an extraordinary spouse who makes me want to be a better me.

(6) People's personal is not my business. Don't make it a habit.

Resuscitation is in the form of looping The Vamps and staying off CNBLUE for a while. Ah, I'm missing them already.

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.

Mar3ee Triad

Budak Arab suka buat lawak. Tahun lepas post paper 1 Surgery diorang nganjingkan qisim "crystal clear" sebab kata soalan crystal clear sekali soalan impossiburu.

Kali ni, I said what I said, happened what happened, but lawak is still lawak so I'm sharing the Mar3ee Triad and Pentad the clinical picture of the currently popular disease.

Ps: Dr. Saeed Mar3ee is the HOD who headed the que-making.

Exam haritu, baru tulis seperenggan dah sakit tangan. I had to drop my pen, shake my wrist and stretch the whole arm forward. Banyak kali bukan sekali tu je. Never occurred to me to do upper limb warming exercises before an exam. It must be the cumulative stress from writing too fast too many while studying or I hadn't dribble since a very long time...