Across the borders..

"You don't know where

My people comin' from,

'Cause you don't go there

We just trying to get dough here..."

Sooo, I know I'm a little late with this, but my iPod shuffled to this song this morning and I haaad to share it.

The joint is called "Don't Go There", off London hip-hop artist Giggs' album "Let 'Em 'Ave It", and it features none other than up-and-comer BoB.
Giggs is a rapper from the notoriously "ghetto" district of Peckam in South London, known for his slow rap style and street lyrics. He won the BET Award for Best UK Hip Hop Act in 2008, and has released 9 hugely successful official mixtapes. The 10th mixtape- Magical Mr. Hollowman- is due out in December of this year. Giggs' first album, "Talkin' the Hardest", which he apparently created in just under two weeks, sold out across the UK. He is widely successful in the UK- ask any Londoner to suggest some local hiphop artists and they will always name Giggs.

Let me just say, after spending some time in London this summer I have a whooole new appreciation for and curiosity in the international hiphop scene. I also noticed that this particular musical genre has an impressively large following in the UK, contrary to the images of tea-sipping, prim-and-proper, Queen-loving Brits that we often get fed out here in Canada/US.

If you haven't heard of Giggs, I suggest you broaden your horizons and check him out before dismissing him as "just some British guy"...





Also check out some of these UK artists, as suggested by a couple of London friends:
- Kano
- Klash Nic-Off
- P Money

summer music

Since it's 'Adios' to summer, just thought I'd share some of the music that coloured MY summer...

The two albums that received the heaviest rotations were:

and

...so if you somehow fell asleep under a rock this summer and didn't check these out, I suggest you do asap.

Adieu, Summer

Tuesday marked the day we bid farewell to summer for another year. It's time to tuck away our warm, sunny memories of beach picnics, watergun fights, random forest hikes, spontaneous bbqs, and hours of pool lounging.

This was an especially sombre goodbye for me, 'cause it meant replacing vacation memories with political science theories at school.

I guess it's only appropriate to give you all some insight as to how I spent MY summer, in the form of pictures of course!

  

   

  

 

  

  

  

   

  

Goodbye, summer! You've been good to me...

 

"Choosing His Coffin"

"You call yourself a son o' mine?... You come telling me you going to Canada as an immigrant? Where Canada is? What is Canada?"

- Austin Clarke, Choosing His Coffin

This semester, I'm taking a course at my uni called "African Canadian Literature" and among the 16 "prescribed" books, the first one we're covering is Choosing His Coffin. This collection of 20 short stories is written by Austin Clarke, a Bajan-Canadian who currently lives in Toronto and has been received and been nominated for a number of awards.


Now, I've gotta admit- based on the track record of U of T English Profs' Reading Lists, I wasn't exactly jumping at the idea of starting the year with a 384 page book. I'm glad I got around to starting it though, because as soon as I was through with the first story- one entitled Discipline, about an immigrant family man's challenges in understanding Canadian life- I knew I was hooked. 
The stories in this collection are witty and fun, sociological and emotional, honest and hilarious- all while asking the fundamental question of how to reconciliate a Canadian "authenticity" with your unfamiliarity of the land. Clarke's witty style is especially appealing with his no-holds-bar humour and openness to bring up even the most sombre of topics, such as suicide. The characters are dynamic, easy to sympathize with and more than one-dimensional.


If you are any of these:
- a Canadian immigrant
- black
- Canadian
- born to immigrant parents
- of Carribean descent
- a North American resident
- a fan of Canadian fiction


there's a goood chance you'll enjoy this book as much as I did!

thanks

I just wanna thank God/the universe/the powers that be for surrounding me with friends and especially family who inspire me to be a better me. These people continue to challenge and teach me more about themselves and myself. They spark my imagination, inspire me more than they will ever know, and give me strength by exemplifying courage in their own lives. 

Thank you all for the memories, advice, hard-learned lessons, and unconditional love...

Prescriptions for Life

"Dance like there's nobody watching,

Sing like there's nobody listening,

Love like you'll never get hurt,

Live like there's heaven on Earth..." 

AIRPLANE BOYS: SLEEP

"Some people dream of success, while others try to reach it..."

A few months ago I did a little feature on a couple of talented guys I'm proud to call my friends: the Airplane Boys. Since then Beck Motley and Bon Voyage have been working hard to spread their music, promote their image, and just simply CREATE.
Thanks to all that grinding, along with the help of the AMAZINGLY talented Justin Create and Neon Gorilla team, they've released a video for one of my fave APB songs: Sleep. It was shot right in Toronto and I'm so impressed by the concept, and how clean the shots are. And believe me, these guys are taaalented. Look out for their upcoming projects, and request "Sleep" on your local radio stations! To download the single, visit:
http://theairplaneboys.bandcamp.com/track/sleep


Here it is, hope you enjoy it as much as we all have....

balance

Sometime this past weekend, I think I semi-consciously conjured/thought/sent positive vibes... I noticed that, because the past couple of day's I feel serene, well-balanced, and somehow a little wiser. You get these little random moments in life where things become clear- relationships you've been trying to fix suddenly seem harmonious, decisions you've been avoiding making suddenly seem clear as ever, and issues you have either internalized or agonized over finding their solution just work themselves out. I think the problem, though, is that we are sooo caught up in focusing on what's wrong and what obstacles limit us to absorb or appreciate these moments.

But like I always say, whether or not its clear to you in the moment, the universe (that is, whatever you perceive it to be) ALWAYS returns to its balance...

TALENT IS SO ATTRACTIVE

Threw a few of these earlier in the blog, and I realized I haven't in a while.

Came across this video, apparently its kinda old, but this chick plays so well! Not to mention this is one of my favourite acoustic songs and she can sing!

9/11

I remember being jostled awake frantically, and opening my mouth to protest, only to shut it again as soon as the pilot's voice came back over the speaker to confirm what he had announced moments earlier. I remember the utter confusion, the dazed expressions of everyone around me, trying to make any sense of what they had all just learned. I remember watching dozens of my fellow passengers rush to the nearest TV  as we landed back at the airport. I remember stopping in my tracks and finally noticing the hundreds of conversations simultaneously taking place around me- the grief, disbelief, and perplexion I could hear buzzing all around me. But most of all I remember the silence. The hush that slowly fell through the crowd around me- some with their eyes glued to the TV screens, some with disoriented expressions still trying to understand what was happening, and some simply comforting a silently-weeping friend, relative, stranger...

And in the days to follow, I remember witnessing kinship, selflessness and an overall sense of "coming together" that my 11-year-old mind had rarely got to glimpse before. I remember the blankets being shared all around, the smiling, reassuring faces of airport staff, and quite simply, just the very act of "being there for one another" that everyone seemed to be actively participating in.

On September 10, 2001 my family and I boarded a late flight from Cairo, Egypt to Amsterdam for what we assumed was a routine stopover before continuing out journey back to Toronto. On September 11, while en route from Amsterdam to Toronto, throngs of eager fliers, myself included, were interrupted mid-flight by the voice of a confused pilot. He announced that "due to some attacks on the World Trade Centre in New York City, the airspace over North America has been 'closed'", forcing us to turn around and reroute back to Amsterdam. Just like that. Matter-of-factly, but in a way that suggested there was actually an overall lack of any facts. For the next few hours, strangers from all walks of life who surrounded me, joined me in annoyance and confusion as we tried to recollect what had just happened, and plot how they could carry on their plans despite this disturbance to their schedule. I think I may have actually been upset that I would miss yet another day in "Back-to-School" week.

It was only hours later, when we finally landed after what seemed like the longest flight I had been on, did the confusion give way to shock, horror, disgust and disbelief. Who was responsible for this? How did it happen? Was anything else happening that we didn't know of? What would be the global response? Would they catch the bad guys? THESE were just some of questions and thoughts that popped in and out of everyone's mind, while the images of burning towers and crashing planes played over and over again on CNN, which seemed to occupy every TV screen.

This was how I personally experienced September 11. To carry on and retell the rest of my experiences that week- stuck in the airport in a foreign country, contracting a bad liver infection that caused me to wound up in the airport hospital, and eating those god-awful ham and apricot jelly sandwiches- that just seems to overshadow the day itself. The infamous day that caused mass confusion, inestimable grief and loss, and a deep sense of comradery and community. The day that would forever etch itself in history among great wars, life-altering inventions, and revolutions. The day that forced everybody collectively AND individually, to face the reality of time, alter our psyches, look to others for help and condolence, and most of all face ourselves and the truth that only seemed to make itself visible at this time. That, no matter how cliché it sounds, or how hard our parents have tried to drive this notion through our head, time and reality can never actually be measured. That the values, things we've come to "know" about life, and all the reassurances fed to us, are futile and can be irreparably changed at any given moment. And that in the gloomiest, darkest moments when war, pain, and fear run rampant, one only needs to look to his neighbour to find sanity and an anchor again...

Prescriptions for Life

"Heaven and hell are only found on earth, where we have the capacity to create them..."

untitled for a reason

Today something inspired me to write. Maybe it was the feeling of impending doom, mixed with misplaced excitement about the new school year starting next week. Maybe my To-Do List was the inspiration- after weeks and weeks I can finally cross "update blog !!!!!!!!" off the list. Maybe it was the concerned phone calls or confused conversations I've recently had regarding my absence from the writing scene.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was that little thing within me that propelled me to start this little project in the first place. That tiny, almost inaudible voice that reminds me time and again that I simply do not exist as who I am without this outlet. I have forged an identity, I've had opportunities to share what would otherwise have been kept bottled up in me, and most importantly I have been reminded that if you actually believe in what you do, the sky cannot even limit you- all through my writing. Writing has kept me sane and grounded, giving me a sense of purpose and a sense of escape from day-to-day realities.

So what exactly has prevented me from updating my blog since July? It couldn't have been time limits- indeed my break from school, reduced work schedule and long nights spent awake would have been ideal for logging on now and then to write. Clearly, my choice to neglect this project over these past couple of weeks is something fueled from within.

Writing to me has been like your typical love story, full of ups and its share of downs (and anyone who knows me well enough knows I'm a failure in the "love" department). It has been like an honest, spontaneous, unconditional lover that helps bring out the best in me. It has led me to pause and honestly reflect on aspects of my own life as equally as I muse about the world around me. At the same time, I've seen the reproachful, critical side of this lover who constantly forces me to face my innermost thoughts, feelings, fears, and insecurities.

But this doesn't mean I should ignore this huge part of my life like a bad ex you avoid at the mall. That simply isn't even an option, because I LOVE writing. I love it because as much as I have shown my true self to it, I've allowed it to see Me from the inside out- a "privilege" I have long held back from my own loved ones. And because of this, I see my personal writing not so much as a task or chore or something I have to get over with, but a natural reflex to seeing someone's innermost being- mine.

That must be what led me back to this direction.

Day 25

DAY 25

Alas, I have almost reached the halfway point of my trip, and yet it feels like theres so much more to do!! Just an idea of some things I have planned for the next couple of weeks:
- Monday we'll be arriving in Sharm El Sheikh (Red Sea resort town)
- July 11 my sister and I will be heading off to see Big Ben, cute Brits, and the Redlight District in our mini Euro-trip
- July 20 we'll be heading back to Alexandria
... and from there, we will decide where this trip will be taking us.


Right now, I'm updating my blog on Mac-y en route from Alexendria to Cairo. As we drive further and further away from Egypt's second largest/most populated, I feel it is only appropriate to quickly share some of the people, moments, stories and experiences I have encountered along the way...
Let me just say, as the younger sister and youngest child in my family, habit has turned into impulse, and I strongly believe one of my impulses is to be a good listener. My limitless curiosity has always sort of led me to be interested in other people's stories, and I often find myself randomly thinking of a funny anecdote or heart-warming/heart-breaking story that was shared by someone I met along this crazy journey of life.
My memory is terrible at best, but sometimes its like my brain erases some of my own silly memories in order to cherish someone else's experience. I am a strong believer that whether young or old, rich or poor, comical or wise, everyone has a story and if we take the time to listen, there is an infinite amount of of wisdom, experience and knowledge to be had from these stories.

Take for example "El Ma'alam" (a term indicting respect), the owner of the shisha cafe near our apartment in Alexandria. After long nights turned mornings spent at his cafe playing backgammon, smoking shisha and ordering every imaginable variety of fresh fruit juice, El Ma'alam began to warm up. The more he welcomed us whole-heartedly and the more I witnessed his little kind gestures that earned him the neighbourhood's respect, the more I too began to take a liking to him.
El Ma'alam is a man strikingly young for his job position, with a kind smile and nervous habit if biting his fingernails. He started off working in some of the many shisha cafes dotting the city's landscapes, before he opened up his own place at 28 years old. Now in order to understand some of his predicaments, I guess one must have a vague idea of how corrupt Egypt's government and bureacracy is (I'll leave it at that). Earlier this year, the government decided to ban the use of shisha's (the famed water pipes, also known as hooka's, that are a fundamental part of Egyptian culture). Now, as with many of the ever increasing laws and prohibitions, there's always a way to sidestep the rules- but this comes at a price. For El Ma'alam, the price comes in the form of regular bribes he pays to the inspectors that come visiting his cafe- this vaguely reminds one of the old Mafia days in which shopkeepers were forced to pay money to mob bosses for "protection". Hah, government racketeering.. I like that (not!).
Such is one of the problems El Ma'alam- a man who has filled the void his abandoning father left by covering the costs of his sisters' weddings and sending his mother on the Hajj to Mecca- must deal with.


Thus, this is just one story among many of one man. Again, some of the stories I come across are funny as hell. Some are filled with awe-inspiring adventures, and some with heart-warming stories that remind me of the innate kindness and comradery human beings can have for one another. And some remind me that beyond every smile there lies an experience of loss, injustice or undeserved suffering...

                    

Alexandria

“Why do we love the sea? It is because it has some potent power to make us think things we like to think.”

--Robert Henri

Just thought I'd give you all a peek into some of my time spent here.
These are some of the photos, unedited, that I snapped during my stay in Alexandria, Egypt.


Alexandria is Egypt's largest sea port, extending 32 km along the Mediterranean Sea.
Founded in 331 B.C by Alexander the Great, it became one of the most famous cities of the ancient world. 


Above anything else I did here, I loved going to the beach and walking along the coast at night..
Enjoy the photos!

Until next time!

Prescriptions for Life

"I'm starting with the man woman in the mirror,
I'm asking her to make a change...."

- MJ
(RIP)

                                      

One city, 20 world leaders, thousands of protestors

ASooo, since I couldn't be home to join in on all the festivities, I thought I would share some of the action that took place over this past weekend in Toronto, where the G:20 Summit was held...

Aaaaand, finally for the grand finale,

Changes...

I sat in the same cafe, smoking a new flavour of shisha while enjoying me same ice cream flavour of choice- mango.
I admired the same Mediterranean sea scene I had often thought about back home...
Familiar faces surrounded me: the same cafe owner, the same janitor and the same waiters who'd served me several times on my last trip here two years ago. Admittedly, I didn't give it much thought. And then a familiar face passed by that forced me to pause and reflect...
It was that of a boy I also remembered from my last trip, walking down the street cafe to cafe (as so many others do), earning his bread by selling a load of overpriced "Made in China" goods. I remembered how he had etched his image into my mind being a kid so many years younger than me, out so late toiling in a fruitless job that probably earned his family next to nothing. I remember wishing I could buy his whole load of goods, a naïve thought my young mind had concocted.
I remember my parents trying to comfort me with glamourized thoughts of how he probably had lots of money and would return home to a big dinner.
But this boy walking in front of me, pausing every so often to readjust the heavy load, his tanned face hardened with new lines I didn't remember- giving him the appearance of someone beyond his years- was NOTHING like the protagonist of their fairytale...
I guess some things really do change, and some don't...

Day 18

DAY 18

So, damn.. I haven't written here in a while. It's like the more free time I have, the less time I have to dedicate to writing..or blogging...or doing whatever it is I'm doing here.
So needless to say, I haven't had to give up the little bits of modern technology that have made my life both comfortable and enjoyable back home. Nights spent locked up in this apartment with my iTouch, Blackberry, Macbook and digicam often cause me to forget I've even left Toronto, and I have yet to decide if thats a good thing or a bad thing.

Anyways, so much and so little have happened that I don't even know where to begin...
My sister's decided to adopt a kitten we found, and we've named him 'El Masry' (The Egyptian). She's cute and all, but I definitely remember why I do not wish to have babies anytime soon.
I've seen about half a dozen movies, due to the late theatre showtimes (think 1 am), and lack of other activities to do in Alexandria. I really enjoyed 'Robinhood', largely because of its historical focus and cast of brilliant actors, like Russel Crowe and Kate Blanchett.
Remember,
"Rise and rise again
Until lambs become lions"
(It'll make sense if you watch it, trust me).

Ummm, above all, I've got to enjoy some beautiful beaches and have greedily soaked up some Vitamin D.  Its about the only time I feel safe and/or inspired to go on solo walks. I've snapped some beautiful phtotos and seen some scenes (hehe, how Jay Z of me) that have truly inspired new awe and amazement at all that nature has to offer, if only we'd shut the hell up and listen with our eyes.

I guess the anthropologist in me is fascinated by the Egyptian people. Their infinite patience and friendliness is only outweighed by their child-like curiosity. They have a poetic, articulate way of speaking their mind. The combination of endearing shyness, and admirable boldness I've seen in these people is something that I severely need in my life. Most of all, I respect how humble and grateful to God they are, and although we often have completely polar views on religion, morality and philosophy, I am able to learn something new from each person I encounter...

to the leading man in my life...

Dear Papa,
As I sit here smoking shisha with you in the country you taught me to take pride in and love, I can't help but think back to when I was a kid...
To the days when you used to sit me on your lap and tell me about your trips around the world, forever instilling in me the need to explore everything around me. To the days you used to swing me by my arms and tickle me till I begged you to stop, forever reminding me that youth is in the heart. To the nights when I would sit in by bed and wait for the key in the door, ensuring that you were home from a long day of work and providing me with the key values of hard work and persistence. And to all the times you would buy me a Happy Meal and wait patiently for me to eat it before going home to eat your own meal, reminding me what real dedication and selflessness is.
Papa, I've always felt blessed to have a special bond with you. Your disciplined upbringing and no-nonsense attitude would subside for your children, long enough to let us enjoy your underlying playfullness, infectious sense of humour and rare gentleness. You never once put yourself above us and you would go through any amount of bullshit to make sure your family was happy and satisfied, and for that I will forever be grateful.
In always being honest, sometimes to the point of brashness, you taught me so much about the world. You taught me to love with my actions rather than my words, never to take no for an answer, and to do anything in my power for those I love. In your silly anecdotes and countless shared memories, you made me feel just how truly important I am. Ill always remember how happy you would say you were when you learned you would be having another girl, and that no amount of boys would replace that. In doing so, you taught me to be a strong and independent women, and never to rely on a man (other than you, that is!).
You will never truly understand how much I appreciate every good deed, lesson, action and word you have given me. You will never know how much joy I felt looking down at your proud, approving face as you watched me accept awards, receive diplomas, deliver speeches and be the best person I know how to be.
I don't know how much time I have left in this world with you, and I don't know if I could ever really express how I feel about you. Although you always tried your best to keep me from thinking about how the unforgiving hands of time will logically take you away in its grip one day, possibly soon, I know that I will ALWAYS treasure all of these things I have grown to love about you, and your beautiful soul.
I pray that I can one day marry someone who is half the man you are, but I know there will only ever be one Superman in my life, and that is you...
I love you my protector, entertainer, care-giver, provider, and hero.
I love YOU papa, always and forever..

Love,
A grateful, loving daddy's girl

umofa

*cue Alicia Keys' "Superwoman"...*

The oppressive heat, combined with the impossible traffic and the over-capacity car allowed me to momentarily slip into a state of deep contemplation, daydreaming of sorts.

The images of women covered head to toe, outnumbered by males of all ages faded in and out of my mind.
I pictured a land in which roles were reversed. A world where men were forced, or "chose" (as many of them argue), to cover their own head and bodies in loose burkas and hijabs. A world in which everyday these men were reminded of their subordinate positions, by virtue of their confinement in the head coverings. How would life then be if they were forced to brave scorching heat and crowded streets in an item designed to hide them, keeping them forgotten behind masks...