Sex

Now that I’ve got your attention…

I remember G mag magazine (I love it, btw) once had a big header saying SEX and then they talked about a new store opening–they only used the word SEX to grab people’s attention. It cracked me up.

But I really am going to talk about sex. I’m feeling very risque today.

So I was talking to a new convert, and I told him he could ask me anything.

I’m usually very friendly with non-Egyptian guys, since I know there’s almost no possibility of anything developing/ gossip etc. I give off a very friendly vibe. In any case, the guy felt comfortable enough to ask me (bearing in mind it was only our second meeting) what I do about sex and what I thought he should do about sex.

To be honest, in my mind I was kind of like: wtf?

But anyway, I answered him.

Sex, sexuality, love, romance, relationships etc are topics Islam has dealt with extensively. But over the centuries, the fine line between culture and religion has become harder to make out, and we’ve reached the state we are in today: where sex is seen as something shameful not to be talked about, and practiced under the covers at night when married.

What I told the guy was simple: for me, it’s easier than it would be for him, because I firmly believe in the adage “you can’t miss what you’ve never had.”

That doesn’t mean that it’s easy though. Just because I’ve made the decision not to get any doesn’t mean I can’t think/ fantasize/ intellectualize about it. And just because I’ve ‘hidden’ my femininity by veiling doesn’t mean I’ve become asexual. And thanks to the world we live in today (and fueled by a love of romance novels), inexperience does not equal ignorance.

I like the fact that I’m still a virgin, I’m not one just because I believe my religion says you can only enjoy sex if you’re married. I’m also one because I haven’t found a person I love enough to want to share everything with.

So, I abstain. But you can bet your bottom dollar my wedding is going to be kind of short, and then I’m gonna be out of there like a shot

Heads I win, Tails you lose

Have you every realized how easily we can twist and manipulate things to suit us?

Yesterday, I was having a conversation with a die-hard atheist friend of mine. As is our wont, we had an interesting discussion, which we have every once in a while. I enjoy these discussions very much since they give me a chance to work things out in my mind.

Today’s discussion was over du’ua, supplication. The question was: if you pray for something, and you get it, you can trace the reasons you got what you wanted, that’s no proof prayers work. Likewise, if you pray for something and you don’t get it, isn’t that proof that there’s no one up there answering your prayers?

How would you answer?

Amr Khaled and Money

Al-Mujaddidun

Yesterday, Amr Khaled, the celebrated Egyptian televangelist and–according to the Times–one of the 100 most influential people in the world, came to the American university in Cairo (AUC) to talk to AUCians about developing their communities, and being mujaddidun, renewers. Since I’m an alumni, I drove over to listen to what he has to say. Love him or hate him, there’s no denying he’s done a lot of great work and is always inspiring.

But poor Amr Khaled. He has so much hope, so much drive, and so much (misplaced?) faith in the audience–the youth of Egyptian society who have the means, the opportunity and the ability to change the country if they wanted. Too bad that it’s because they have the means and the ability–the money and the education–they just. don’t. want to.

Egypt, as I’ve mentioned before, is a very polarized country, in every which way, and money-wise is the first thing. You have the very, very rich, and the very, very poor. The middle class is almost non-existent.

The unfortunate fact of life is that people with a lot of money are usually less community-minded and more about me, me, me. Cairo is no exception. We may not have a lot of Paris Hiltons, but the Gossip Girl wannabes are more common than you might think. With a very few exceptions, I can safely say that a lot of rich Egyptian youth–those that are found in AUC–live in a shiny pink bubble, and most will stay there. When they graduate, the majority will work with their families, in a multinational, or simply up and leave the country. The brightest and best go abroad and flourish there. Many never come back.

Ok, so I’m rich, elhamduelala.

But, I’m not an empty airhead like so many of my fellow AUCians, and that’s mainly because of two reasons:

1) My family is very ‘new’ money: My dad is very unsophisticated and comes from a village in Upper Egypt. As such, he raised us in a very different way than most rich kids are raised, and for that I am supremely grateful. We grew up to appreciate money, understand it doesn’t come from the sky, and to not spend money like there’s no tomorrow. It means I am as comfortable eating kebda (liver) sandwiches from a cart in Imbaba as I am in Cairo’s trendiest restaurants. It means I understand where I came from and how lucky I am to be where I am today.

2) We have religion, which tells us ostentastiousness is bad, and that we will be asked not only where we got our money, but how we spent it and our time. We don’t party, drink, etc which have become the fashionable activities for Cairo’s elite. Islam also tells us that we live in this world as part of a family, community, and ummah. We aren’t living for ourselves, but for the world. It means we have to actually do stuff in the world, and not just exist. It means we have to change things and improve them, and not just pray and fast and live in isolation.

But it’s just so hard. I’ll be honest, it’s hard sometimes not to fall into a life of leisure. I think to myself sometimes when I don’t want to get up for work: “I don’t really need to work, why not bum around and spend my days being a social butterfly?”

The people Amr Khaled was talking about yesterday, Mujaddidun, people who will effect real change, are just so hard to find. He says his new show will feature 16 of them–16 young men and women who really want to change the world.

I wonder what they’re like? I wonder how do you get that drive to get up every day with the intention that you are going to do great things?

And I wonder how many of the people who turned up to see Amr Khaled will really go on to do great things, and not just work, marry, have kids, and die.

Random middle-of-the-night thought

Life is so strange subhan Allah.

Sometimes, events that are so diametrically opposed are juxtaposed in such a short space of time, that I find it impossible to understand how some people don’t believe in a cosmic intelligenece (Allah).

I’ve just had a humongous opportunity drop into my lap like a ton of bricks. But a couple of days ago, something happened that makes me hesitate to take advantage of that opportunity, though I would have jumped at the chance a week ago.

Fate is such a tricky concept. I’ve always believed wholeheartedly that I make my own choices in life. True, I believe God/ Allah already knows what I’m going to choose, but that’s only because He knows me so well. It’s like me knowing my little sister will always forgo KFC for McDonalds, even though I never make the decision for her.

But let’s not get sidetracked.

Question is: how do I decide what to do? On the one hand, my friends are telling me that this is an amazing good thing. But I’ve never believed that just because something is ‘good,’ it’s actually good for you. That’s actually one of the biggest traps to fall into: thinking that just because you’re blessed, God must love you and vice versa.

I’m getting all deep and philosophical here. Kefaya.*

Something funny:

A woman in my gym is pregnant, with TWINS, and still manages to run faster than I do on the treadmill. And she has a clearly visible bump too! Can I just say that I never feel more like a blundering hippopotomus than I do when she’s around?

Oh, and in case you didn’t guess, of course she’s not Egyptian! More like a lithe Russian. If she was Egyptian, she’d be lying on her bed at home eating macaroni and drinking gallons of (full cream) milk. Fat chance of her running anywhere, mesh 3ayzenhom yo2a3oo ya habibti!**

* That’s enough.
** We don’t want [the babies] to fall out, love!