how to spot a lebanese in the middle east

when their eyebrows and forehead are raised at the same time, they can mean yes or they can mean no, you figure it out!

they use a mixture of different languages to convey a simple statement - hi! kifak? cava? 

every lebanese has an in born talent of prescribing you any medicine you might need - laxatives, anti allergies, antibiotics

did you know that they invented the alphabet?

the marriage of a lebanese woman is the affair of all relatives, even if she didn't meet them yet, including their neighbors

every single lebanese hates all lebanese in his country, but only makes friends with fellow lebanese when outside his country

all troubles inside the country is caused by an outsider

they are always right! 

offensive language is part of any normal conversation. they don't feel comfortable with you unless they start cursing at you.

lebanese women hate other lebanese women who they think are more beautiful than them

they dont consider themselves asian, euroepean, nor arabs. they are LEBANESE!

they are not racists, they just dislike to mingle with other nationalities

RINGGG!!! "kis-im-mak telefon! [pause] alu? kifak habibi? min mayk?" [roll eyes]

they only buy the expensive shirts, or gadgets, or sunglasses

they are the only ones who can drive fast while watching a movie, browsing the internet, or reading a magazine 

they are the ones sitting in the most expensive restaurants, and the ones buying the least expensive canned goods in the supermarkets

the focus of their hilarious jokes are syrians or egyptians

the lebanese pride, well, it's the strongest in the world :)

oh, by the way, did you know that both shakespeare and shakira are lebanese?

how to spot a filipino in the middle east

i have lived in the middle east for nearly 6 years, and though at first i found it hard to distinguish among filipinos, indonesians, and nepalis, over the years filipinos proved to have a striking difference compared to other asians.

characteristics of filipinos have been blogged about on lots of pages before, but here i would only write the traits i have personally observed, if not am personally guilty of.

on the sidewalks and streets:

• a lady walking on the street with her hair still wet
• they use umbrellas as a shade against the sun
• go to supermarkets wearing shorts and slippers

on the airport:

• the person with huge boxes in the airport
• got a hand carry bag that shouldn't really be hand carried, not when it's as big as the check-in luggage and as heavy as the weight of the travelling person

filipinos and their cars:

• more often than not their cars are red, dark red, bright red, light red, slightly red, or any other shade of RED 
• insist on fitting 8 people in a sedan
• they clean their cars at every chance they get
• car looks like a closet of stuff toys

filipinos and their homes:

• there is a always a rice cooker in the kitchen
• have lots of small packages for friends and loved ones stuffed every where ready to be packed when they go back home
• 6 different strangers can live in a single room and share bunk beds 
• collect shopping bags to turn  into garbage bags

filipinos and food:

• they don't mind eating rice for breakfast, rice for lunch, and rice for dinner
• there is always food inside office drawers, be it a canned juice, a piece of chocolate, an instant noodle, or a jar of peanut butter
• they always ask you to share their food, even if they don't actually expect you to sit and start munching on their fried fish
• prefer the sweet spaghetti, sweet banana ketchup, sweet chicken adobo, and sweet fried shrimps
• they eat with their hands, or they use both a spoon and a fork, instead of a fork and a knife

hygiene:

• they got a toothbrush in their purse, in their office drawers, and always a spare one in their homes
• wouldn't leave the house before taking a shower even if it means freezing to death
• and whats the difference between a shower and a bath again?

communication:

• more common than the usual greeting "kumusta?" [how are you?] is the question "kumain ka na?" [have you eaten yet?]
• instead of answering, they will just smile when asked the common how are you question
• the last syllable of a word ending in 'tion' is always emphasized, such as communica-shiooun, transporta-shiooun, ambi-tiooun.
• exaggerated love for the word 'already' - i already spoke to him this morning already
• the ipod and the ipad sounds perfectly the same
• the iphone is pronounced as ipone, and the numbers 3, 4, 5, 7, and 11 are tree, por, payb, seben, and eleben.

it won't be fair to stereotype the whole filipinos based on those that i have observed, but if you'd come and visit the middle east, you'd notice a little truth in each of the points above. :)

just blog it

even on my worst, i've always had good people who wouldn't give up on me. i don't know how they all managed to stick around, no matter how distant i make myself to be.

i don't talk to my friends anymore. i got reasons, none good, but reasons just the same. 

i'm not comfortable with their how-are-you's. there was only one time in the past 3 months that i did spoke to one of them. and i only spoke to him because he posted an angry statement in his face book. i knew he needed a friend. i can be a good listener. after that, i was gone.

at the end of the day i don't want to explain who called me and what the conversation was about. it's way easier to live in my own world where i can honestly answer any question with a 'nothing' or a 'no one'.

i do talk once in a while. when i am comfortable. comfortable that i won't be judged from whatever i say. or when i am not forced to say everything all at once. or when i know that the other person will only listen and not mentally take down notes of follow up questions and will shoot them all away the moment i seem to finish a speech.

i talk. 

when i am ready.

no wonder i had always enjoyed blogs. 

i can pause. 

i can stop. 

i can leave.

e m p t y

so this is how it feels like, when you keep everything inside. you reach an embarrassing point where you just let go of all emotions and cry your heart out.  when all the tears have dried, everything goes back to normal, if you know what i mean by normal, that is.

strangers are welcome

i used to be very expressive. whatever i feel, the world wide web knows every detail about it. 

i got people who followed my old blogs, people i know personally. every time i wrote something, i have been asked to explain. i have to answer all who - what - when - where - how - why questions.

sometimes i would write about my reactions to a given scenario. or a funny line i read on a billboard. or an old silly song i remember from high school. not all are personal, just insights on an attempt to be funny. or slightly interesting. 

and yet i have to explain. why such a reaction? what billboard exactly? who reminded the song?

at first it was fine, flattering even, to be asked about yourself all the time, until it became inconvenient, almost annoying. 

it made me stop writing. it made me stop expressing. i hate having to explain myself all the time.

i have been driven to a point where i can't even talk. i start to create a reputation of being cold. i do not want to. but i am scared of being interrogated why i feel the way i do. 

now i am fighting it. here i am, trying to write again, trying to feel again. but maybe, just maybe, its better to keep a blog for yourself, where only strangers can, if at all, get a glimpse of what's inside of you. 

strangers don't demand explanations. they are indifferent. and at this point, i welcome indifference.

run, run away

i am supposed to have my vacation this month. with work constraints, i need to reschedule for another month.

at first i got so frustrated. i'll be missing my son's birthday.

and then, i just got relieved.

i'm relieved that i won't be able to make it home.

i have spoken to my mom who has observed my son for a few weeks when she was there.

he is only 4 years old. he didn't deserve to get such negative comments.

my mom knew that she was breaking my heart when she spoke to me. but she also knew that she needed to tell me. she knew i need to know everything about my son, specially when i am not there for him.

i wanted to cry. i wanted to go back home on that instant.

but i didn't show any emotions. i just shrugged the whole thing off.

now i don't even know if i want to go back.

i just want to stay inside the four corners of my room and sulk it all out.

a lot of things need to be done and i can't do anything.

i don't have the strength of a mother.

maybe i am not even a mother at all, after all. 

the first post is always the hardest!

i used to be a prolific blogger back then, never running out of stuff to write about. i couldn't make myself stick to one blog, not that i didn't want to, but, oh well, maybe i did want to. the thing is, i'm not very good in this html thing, whatever that may be. i usually find myself trying a new template, which more often than not ruins the whole blog, and so i would end up creating a whole page altogether. 

i even came to a point when i actually bought my own domain name - which i screwed big time. $10 lost for a webpage i locked in 10 minutes! and my mom always wondered where my money goes.

basically i haven't got anything to write about. not yet, anyway. i need to start visiting the blogosphere and hopefully get an exclamation point on the middle of that little bulb on the top of my head.