This is What a Feminist Looks Like

“And this is good old Boston, The home of the bean and the cod"

This month marks the 1 year anniversary of my family moving to Boston. While my time in Boston has been full of ups and downs (being "funemployed" in never a good time), overall the city of Boston has been good to me. There are new places to explore, new traditions to experience, and slowly this city and I are getting to know each other. And while the pizza here just isn't as good as New York, Regina's is alright. I reflected on my time here this morning on the bus and realized that a New England staple has been a part of my life for a long time.

Store outside my apartment:

Store in the most recent place I travelled to (Lebanon):

Store near my college dorm:

Store in my homestate:

The Commonwealth of Massachusetts has been marking its territory from the beginning!

Why Can't More People Dress like Cee Lo Green?

Cee Lo Green's outfit for his performance of "Forget You" at the the 53rd Annual Grammy Awards. Also, props to Gwyneth Paltrow for rockin' a onesie.

Hipster Parent Win!

This man wins the prize for best hipster-parenting:


The Original:


It's always nice to see children show interest in their parents' favorite things and passions. (I've taken my Dad's love of sci fi tv shows and my Mom's love of contemporary fiction). It's even more special when that interest features an adorable girl and is broadcasted on YouTube for the whole world to see.

Qawwali-Flamenco

Qawwali- a form of Sufi devotional music that originated in South Asia. It is present in areas with a historically strong Muslim presence, such as Pakistan. It dates back more than 700 years.

Flamenco- a style of music which is native to southern Spain. It was heavily influenced by Byzantine, Sephardic,  Moorish, and New World elements. It dates back to the 15th Century.

The two are so different, yet fit together perfectly. Qawwali-Flamenco: the ultimate mashup?

Steve Jobs will be happy...

...to know that in the middle of the Jordanian desert I found a Bedouin tribesman playing with an ipad.

While there's no WiFi signal in Wadi Rum, he was happy watching Arabic videos he had uploaded.

A trip to the Hammam!

Every now and then there comes a time for you to spend a few hours primping yourself. Here in the Middle East, such occasions call for a trip to the local Hammam. The Hammam is more than an Arabic (or Turkish) bath house, it's a place where the community comes to wash away the trials of the day, gossip, broker deals, and hang out with friends. 

I've gone to a Hammam in Turkey, but I was interested to try an Arabic Hammam. Thankfully, there was one around the corner from my brother's house, so off I went. As soon as I entered the Hammam I was struck by the humidity in the room. Had I suddenly been transported back to a Washington DC summer? I was greeted at the entrance by a female worker, as the Hammam is segregated by gender. She spoke no English, and I spoke no Arabic but we got by with an extensive use of miming through out my entire experience:

Given the fact that I was in a bathhouse, my first order of business was to strip down. The Hammam had women of all shapes and sizes, and modesty didn't seem to be an issue. I was given a towel and wooden slippers, and since my glasses were removed, led into the main chamber. Some Arabic/Turkish bathhouses have multiple rooms, but in this Hammam everything goes down in one room. 

If the first room was hot, the main chamber was boiling. Along the walls were water spouts and basins, but the main feature of the room was a salt-and-pepper- marble bench. I was told to sit on the bench as steam entered the room. One the main principles of the Hammam is to steam the body first so that you essentially sweat out your impurities or toxins. Gwyneth Paltrow would have been proud.

After getting my sweat on for 20 minutes, I was led to one of the water basins and told to lie down. Hot water was splashed on my body to get rid of the sweat. Then the Hammam-worker used a coarse mitt to exfoliate my arms, legs, and torso. Often the word exfoliate has a positive connotation, but this was a rough experience. One that I liken to someone vigorously scrubbing you with a Brillo® Steel Wool sponge. I was a snake, shedding a layer of skin.

Next came my favorite part: the soap! I didn't just get washed down with a bar of dove, I was covered in olive oil soap. Warm, creamy, and Jasmine-scented, this soap felt amazing on my skin. Not only did I smell good, but my skin wasn't dried out. Similar olive-oil based products were used on my hair. Four hours later and my skin and hair are still smooth and silky.

After rinsing off the soap, I got a massage. More olive-oil products were used as a tiny Arabic woman pounded my back, arms, and legs. I wasn't able to convey to her the pain I was feeling, so instead I endured the knuckle grinding and thumb pressing. Maybe I'm a wimp compared to Arab women (and European tourists), or maybe she was working out her own frustrations on my upper torso. 

Once that was done I put on my a robe and relaxed in the first room for a while. After I got dressed, tea and lunch  (Ful Medammes) were served in a spacious courtyard. The entire Hammam experience lasted about an hour and a half, and I felt renewed and refreshed afterwards. It cost a flat price of 1100 SYP, which works out to be about $24 US dollars for a shower-scrub-massage-tea-lunch combo. 

ما من ساعة مذهلة!

(what an amazing hour!)