It's been a while EGYPT

BOOM ... I guess I am back to blogging ... at least its my very personal blog with almost no followers which is good, here I can have as much middle fingers as I can and no one to keep on following and judging. Ok back to lovely bloody lovely Egypt, its shameful huh, how can someone hate ...YES hate the country they carry its nationality, grew up in and uh their country...well I DO,,, I hate it, whats the wrong with that, who the hell are you to judge me, I hate everything, my memories in it, I hate the people, not all of them as some are really not that bad bt most of them, hate the streets, the traffic, the attitude, the pollution. Guess what I hate most ...this damn fucking stupid double faced Egyptians. Yes idiots, filthy minded creatures, whats so difficult about believing in something and just sticking to it, whats damn difficult about minding your fucking business and stop judging others, whats so damn wrong about just working and focusing on yourself instead of digging your nose in every single detail of somebody else's life ...freaky stupid creatures...whats wrong with just respecting one another differences, stop opposing for the sake of opposing, stop provoking to feel more good about yourself, as if you are somebody...damn! Yes I am pissed off, and guess I will always be, I know they say a heaven without people is an unbearable place...but let me rephrase it here and say simply a heaven with Egyptians is HELL ! GO TO HELL

عمر بن الخطاب

في رمضان كان فيه كمية رهيبة من المسلسلات و بما اني مش من الهواه بس الفراغ يخلي الواحد ساعات يشوف فيه ايه و بما اني دايما مستفزه (العادي بتاعي) اتفرجت بالعند في الناس اياها على كام حلقة من مسلسل عمر وبصراحة كان الغرض اشوف كل الدوشة بتاعت تجسيد الصحابة ورفض عرض المسلسل من الشيوخ اللي شايفين ان كلامهم امر وطاعة لزمته اية ... المهم شوية كده وانشغلت بس المسلسل يشهد له بالروعة وعلشان كده انا ح اتفرج عليه بهدوء الايام دي تاني وبشويش القصد لما تجادلت في الموضوع مع الاخت لقيتها بتقول ان العلماء والشيوخ مش عايزين صورة الصحابة تتعلق في الاذهان بصورة ممثل ممكن يعمل ادوار تانية وده كان الراي الاكثر موضوعية لناس وسطية .. والله وجهه نظر خاصا وانا واحدة من الناس اللي اول ما حد يقول حمزه عم الرسول ص اول واحد بيجي على بالي هو عبد الله غيث الله يرحمه في فيلم الرساله .. بس سالت طب وفين المشكله ما في مسلسلات كتير السيده مريم و سيدنا عيسي و سيدنا يوسف فيه ممثلين جسدوهم ايه يعني ! ... ده حتى حمزه و ابو بكر و علي و عمر مش رسل دول صحابه وخلفاء راشدين ناس كتير مكسله تعرف اي حاجه عنهم والمسلسل اهه منفعه ... الرد كان مقنع برضه ان زي ما مثلا نبيله عبيد جسدت رابعة العدوية وبعدين عملت افلام استغفر الله ده ممكن يحصل ... صح وممكن بس ده برضه مالوش علاقة برابعة ولا ينتقص منها انا بقى لي وجهة نظر مخالفة جدا ... و كنت بتفرج على مسلسل عمر و فجاءه سالت نفسي ... الله ده عمر و ابو بكر و هما كفار بس ساده في قريش قبل الاسلام كانوا لابسين لبس ابهه قوي و بعد الاسلام وهما خلفاء راشدين و برضه ساده حالهم بقى لا حول ولا قوة الا بالله .. واضحة هه ... عمر كان بدقن قبل و بعد الاسلام وده راجل كان كافر بدقن وخليفة المسلمين ومن الصحابة الاولين و من الاخر كده سلف صالح يعني كده بدقن وكده بدقن ...واضحه برضه .. عمر لما كان بيصلي كان بيصلي في حماية ربنا زيه زي الناس .. ولما كان بيخطب في الناس كان الستات والرجاله حواليه من غير ما يفصل حد ... ولما غلط و امراه رجعته اعتذر للست واقر غلطه ...واضحة .. عمر كان بيبكي خوف وهلع من ربنا وسمح بعدم قطع يد السارق اللي سرق من كتر جوعة وكان مرعوب ومش بينام خايف من عقاب ربنا ... و غيره وغيره اللي انا بقي شكه فيه ان قد يكون خوف علماء الدين وشيوخ النهارده هو من تجسيد افعال عمر وليس شكله لان في النهاية ... طويل قصير تخين رفيع مش ح يفرق معانا ... عمر مش رسول علشان يزعلوا قوي كده.. . ده بشر ومن الصحابه ..اللي ح يجسد دوره مش ح يكون همه الشكل بس الاهم وده اللي كتير ناسيه او بيتناسااااه هو افعال واخلاق وخشوع عمر ورحلته من الكفر الي اليقين ... كالعاده الكل ساب المضمون وماسك في الهيافه اتفرجوا على عمر ابن الخطاب

My small suitcase of Egypt...

Its weird... isnt it, every time you pack for a trip or a short visit you just make sure you pack your nicest stuff. Stuff you know you bought to use when you're hiking, visiting a new place, going dining in an elegant restaurant, etc. you never pack stuff that are not valuable to you, that you know it might embarrass you or be of no use to you, stuff that you might just have but not like or you keep cause maybe one day you might need to give away. They are just worthless for just being themselves.

I stood infront of my suitcase wondering, now what to pack, what do I really care to have with me... it never was that hard, this time its different as I wanna pack for a really long trip that I wish I will only be able to come back but this time I will be just visiting.

Hours passed by and I kept going back and forth, looking into an empty room full of memories, can one pack memories?! A couple more hours and I had to decide, so I let go of myself and as usual packed what I will need to wear for the office, for the beach, for the gym. Now I need to pack what I really need to keep with me, what I really care to have in that unknown type of trip.

I was totally blindfolded this time, I kept on packing and packing and here it was infront of me and all full two huge suitcases of clothes and shoes, sitting beside them a small bag with stuff... what stuff, I opened the bag again and there it was inside, pictures, CDs, my mum's perfume, my dad's watch, books and papers. It looked like I packed my memories of the Egypt I wanna have with me.

A small family album full of pictures of my dad smiling, I loved his smile it always lightened up the darkest rooms, still it does every time I look at his pictures I just feel him smiling back at me and I do smile back at him. I would pay years of my life and have his smile back for a minute, his kind eyes, his wisdom and his loving heart.

Books sure, who wouldnt need books, but my collection arent only my favorite but more of what I selected to read at every different stage in my life, its like keeping track of me and the identity I chose through books!

And here it came my favorite collection of music and DVDs, the sounds that will remind me of the Egypt I want to remember, the one I love, the kind of music that will carry within it the voice of Egypt that I despise nothing as much as loving it. The music that my dad used to play to us in his car whenever he was driving us to the beach, the music that I grew up to listen to with my friends and had it in the background of our home parties, the sounds of which every memory smells and tastes great, not the sounds one is forced to hear now.

I packed Egypt in a suit case, I packed my memories of it, the one that my dad worshiped, the one that his love for amazed me and kept me wondering whats with it that he loves it that much, I packed my childhood, my memories the good ones only as I promised myself to leave behind all the bad and worn out ones. I packed what I want to look back to and feel homesick without the need to fake it.

Its all there in a small bag, years that one cant define how did they pass, moments that one can measure his life with, its all packed there and ready for me to cherish and carry on with my life leaving behind the worthless agony and nonsense.

Would one survive somewhere else other than home, I guess I would as I have a small bag of the home I loved. Its always better to love from a distance than to hate from being within.

حكايتي مع السلف 0

طيب بقالي كده اكثر من سنتين ما كتبتش كلمه. و البلوج كان نوع من انواع التجربه مش اكتر يعني لزوم الفضفضه. بس بما ان الواحد حاليا عاطل و طالما الكل بيشارك براي او فكره او حتي تجربه في الايام السوده و ساعات بيضه اللي احنا عايشينها قولت لنفسي طب ما ترجعي تكتبي و يعني تشاركي. و المره دي بالعربي كمان.
من غير ما اطول و لان الكل بيهاجم الكل الايام دي قولت اشمعني ما اهاجم انا كمان يعني هي جات عليه. بس اهاجم مين و ليه هو انا بفهم في السياسه من اساسه علشان اهاجم و لا حتي عمري انضميت لجهه و لا حزب و لا اي نشاط. ده حتي نهضه المحروسه كنت شايفاها معليش يعني مشروع فاكس و شويت ناس زيهم زي بتوع الروتاري كده و انا مالي
الواحد لازم لما يكون راي يكون عنده اساس للراي ده خاصا اذا كان ناوي يقلبها غم و يدخل معارك، من الاخر كده لازم تبقي قد اللي انت ح تقوله الاول و الا تبقي لا مؤخذه يعني.
طب انا واحده باعت القضيه و من زمان و ح موت كده و اطفش من البلد و ناسها، ما انا برضه اللي شفته مكنش شويه، فكك من الفساد و الليله دي ما كلنا في الهوا سوي و سيبك من اتظلمت و تعليم زباله و مش عارف اعرض قدراتي و لا انمي نفسي علشان يلعن ابو الوسطه و المحسوبيه و خلافه. بالنسبه لي كل ده عادي و كتير مننا سوء كان مستريح شويه و لا اهله طافح الكوته عاشه و عدي عليه.
بس الجديد اللي عندي و اللي مش كتير من الناس عاشوه هو حكايتي مع الاخوه المتشددين حبيتين و ساعات تلاته، اللي الله يسترهم احتضنوني و ضموني في وقت كنت فيه ضاربه اخر حاجه
و اللي كتير قوي قوي من اصحابي و غيرهم مره مخضوضين و مره مطنشيين و الكتير بقي ان كتير قال ايه مستغربين منهم يا حرام
بس انا برضه ح اعذرهم و ما هو اللي ميعرفش يقول ايه ؟؟
هه نبتدي منين الحكايه

.....

I GUESS

Je suis Malade

Heart Break .... Next

Back to Blogging - the truth about DEATH

Its been over a year if not more... but I am here and I am back.

This time I will blog it all out, maybe thats my way of staying insane, maybe its the only way too. I started and stopped blogging due to a personal crises, a real big one that shook me to the core, I know I wasnt stable for a long time and just acting fine but I am sure now that I wasnt and that I kindda of sure what was that all about. I kept playing it cool and acting normal, I even acted on myself trying to believe am all the same and nothing changed. And though I never open my heart and soul to anyone, once for not being accused of insanity, and once for not being taken advantage of, yet this time I just dont care anymore what others might think of me as all I know for now that I am all alone in life and everyone is for himself. No matter how many friends you have or loved ones, at the end of the day, you are to be alone with all your demons and people are just too frustrated to help each other anymore.

So I will start with my story during the last two years, its gonna be exactly 2 years next 25th of May, the day I was home sick and I woke up on a phone call from my dad informing me that mum is in hospital for some regular check ups, an hour later he called coldly to tell me that she died, period and he hung up immediately. Now I can remember the day as for the past months I kind of managed to block it. I remember laughing and crying at the same time, yes I know what dead means but its just not possible, she was just fine, its just check ups, the ones she does every now and then, its no big deal, what the hell?!

I remember people coming to our house in black and I rushing to my room changing my shirt and putting on a black one over my jeans and not caring much, I remember not being able to cry even though their faces was so gloomy and the blackness indicated the loss of someone! I sat there calmly while her friends collapsed one after another, my younger brother stood still and didnt say a word, I guess he was just absorbing it and I was just observing them and not getting whats the big deal is, say what you want, it just cant be!

A week passed by and people kept on coming, great distraction from the real thing, dad getting sick in bed and my brothers and sister looking very tired and gloomy, I stepped to my room feeling nothing still but while I passed by the mirror I saw someone looking at me with wide eyes full of tears, I didnt even get what am I crying for, I cant get it yet. A month and I was just the same crying every night but without feeling a thing, I tried to get it, and while my heart told me that something bad happened, my mind just refused the truth of her departure. That day they all gathered to bury her I didnt get the chance to even say goodbye, back then dad believed thats better and to me it was a proof that she really didnt die, her casket to me seemed empty, she cant be in there but I just got to fake it or the crowd will believe me to be insane, so I kept on crying while in mind I was just working on fooling everybody around and showing them that I do get it and that yes my mum just died and I am accepting it, but the truth was I didnt cause simply to me she cant die, she just cant.

I guess I was a very good actress who managed to fake it cleverly or so I thought, my friends came to comfort me and I was just acting as an adult who can get it all and trying to convince them that I am fine and I get it, if they think she is dead then okay she is but at the end of the day and to me she never left, maybe when they let it go, maybe when the entire play is over she will return, and to such thought I kept clinging. If they got that I dont believe in death and dont believe she died they might start on looking at me differently and I dont need pity and I am not crazy to be treated like that. I must convince them all that I am a grown up who is "religious" who is grieving silently, who do get it, who believes in death, heaven and hell !

I guess after 2 months my dad insisted on me going away and though I didnt get why he is so persistent but I managed with some friends to go on a trip for 2 weeks abroad. I left wearing black and there I changed it to other colors. The trip did me well, I totally forgot about the play, there is nothing I have to fake in here, and I didnt even bring my mum up to any conversation. I can remember few glances and some pity looks but I did ignore as to me who are they pitying,when I go home she will be there and they will all see who the insane one is.

But I guess that when I got back and entered her room to find it as it is with no sign of her existence I said to myself well she is not back yet. Two days passed by and while I was emptying my bags I found that I didnt buy mum anything this time while I always get her something, so I entered the room again and start smelling her clothes to prove to myself that no one can die and his smell is still in his clothes! Then it just hit me, I am holding to clothes nothing else, whats left of her is her clothes hanging in her closet and not being used for 2 months. I guess a minute passing like hours I was just standing alone in her room and for the first time my mind said it out loud... mum died and she is not coming back. And that was the real day she died, that was the day I started knowing what grieving is like, that was the day my dad looked me differently, he looked at me silently as if he is saying you finally got it you can stop faking being okay with it now and just cry for real. Right before this slap on the face I was enjoying faking it for real, I even posted pictures of my trip online so that my friends will get that I am just fine and I did get over her departure, but the fact was that I was just living in denial and seem that they did knew about my play or at least so did my dad who wanted to introduce the death fact to me but slowly and gently.This time I absorbed it and it just killed me. This fact did ruin my life and I just collapsed right this minute I got it and I believe that the day I really realized that mum died was the same day I grew older, angrier and was the same I lost the old me and guess with it I lost my faith too. That was the day in which nothing mattered anymore, I lost faith, I hated life, and I hated the fact of me living it, I started questioning God and I am still tortured with anger and debates. I care no more for an aim, love or job, I grew cynical and more furious with everything.

And till now I guess I didnt get the real fact of death and I am so tired of trying to accept it. Death was a wake up call that opened the door for alot of ugly thoughts that I guess I did run from for the sake of accepting life as it is. But since that day I really do care for nothing, I lost interest in life and every day is just like living in death, all my worries and all my fears now is about me losing another beloved once again to death and with such fear am living, breathing and trying to survive every single day.

To me, there is no freedom of choice when it comes to death, I sure didnt die yet but a huge part of me did that day and though I still go to her grave not being able to shed a tear, I still gaze at the ground she is buried under and wondering what the truth is, heaven and hell to me sounds now like a fairy tale and nothing is the same anymore, religions are full of double standards and faith is just .... undefinable.

The End!

EXACTLY MY THOUGHTS

عبقرية الاستهبال (2 من 3):ـ
زحام العبقريات، وديدان الأرض!ـ

جلست أفتش عن أى العبقريات كان سيكتب العقاد لو أنه بُعِث من قبره ليرصد بقلمه ما صار يطغى علينا من عبقرية ديدان الأرض: هل تراه كان يكتب عن عبقرية الجهل، أم عبقرية "الفهلوة"، أم عبقرية العشوائية التى صارت تأكلنا كما تأكل النار الهشيم؟ أم تراه كان يكتب عن عبقرية الفوضى، أم عبقرية التخلف، أم عبقرية الحماقة، أم عبقرية الانحطاط؟ دعونا لا ننسى فى زحام العبقريات عبقرية الكذب، وعبقرية المغالطة، وعبقرية المراوغة، وعبقرية المماطلة، وعبقرية الوعود الفارغة! ثم ماذا عن عبقرية الفساد، وعبقرية التبديد، وعبقرية التمويه، وعبقرية التبرير، وعبقرية الاحتفال باللاشئ؟! ماذا عن عبقرية الاستسلام باسم الحكمة، وعبقرية التبعية باسم التنمية، وعبقرية النهب باسم الإصلاح، وعبقرية تفتيت الدولة باسم اللامركزية، وعبقرية تفكيك التاريخ باسم ثقافة السلام، وعبقرية طمس الهوية باسم الانفتاح، وعبقرية اختطاف الدين باسم محاربة الشيوعية حيناً وباسم محاربة الإرهاب حيناً آخر؟! وماذا عن عبقرية اليد السفلى، وعبقرية الوقاحة، وعبقرية التبجح، وعبقرية الوجه المكشوف؟! ماذا عن عبقرية التغييب، وعبقرية التغريب (من الغُربة لا الغرب)، وعبقرية خلط الأوراق، وعبقرية المومس الفاضلة؟! ماذا عن عبقرية النفاق، وعبقرية التملق، وعبقرية المديح، وعبقرية مخاطبة الغوانى اللائى يغُرُّهن الثناءُ؟!ـ

حسبت مهمة العقاد تكون جد عسيرة وهو يبحث عن عبقرية يكتب عنها، وحسبته إن هو بُعِث من قبره يختار عبقرية الرجوع إلى القبر، عَلَّه فى قبره ينقذ نفسه وينقذ قلمه من طغيان كل هذه العبقريات التى اختلطت أوراقها، فما عاد المرء – حتى وإن كان العقاد – بقادر على الفرز أو الاختيار! حسبت هذا لولا أن ارتدَّت بى الذاكرة إلى ماضٍ يبتعد عنا بنحو عشرين عاماً أو يزيد، لأجد ضالتى فى عبقرية تحتضن تحت جناحيها كل ما سبق أن طرحت من عبقريات، أعنى عبقرية "الاستهبال"!! واللفظ ليس من عندى، ولا كنت أستطيع نحت هذا المصطلح "العبقرى" لو لم يكن قد نحته أصحابه علناً وهم يخاطبون الدنيا فرحين بما وُهِبوا من أسباب "العبقرية"!!ـ

وقتها، منذ نحو عشرين عاماً أو يزيد، كان قد خرج علينا أحد حكماء هذا الزمان بخطاب يلقيه إلى شعبه – أو هو يلقيه عليه! – ارتجالاً فى إحدى المناسبات، متشبهاً بعظماء العهود التى خلت حين كانوا يرتجلون الخُطَب وينسجون من خيوط اللحظة أروع الكلمات؛ ولأن أجهزة الإعلام كانت قد جعلت من هذا الحاكم "زعيماً" ينطق بآيات الحكمة، بل وجعلت منه تجسيداً حياً لمجد تاريخ تليد، فقد أذيع الخطاب وقتها على الهواء مباشرة علَّه يُسمِع صوت القائد والزعيم للعالم أجمع، ويثبت للجميع أن على رأس هذه الدولة "المحظوظة" عبقرية نادرة، قَلَّ أن يجود الزمان بمثلها، اللهم إلا مرة أو نحو مرة كل بضعة قرون!!ـ

أخذ الرجل يحكى عن تجربة له حين كان يدرس العلوم العسكرية بروسيا (الاتحاد السوڤييتى سابقاً)، إذ طلب بلسانه وهو يمارس حياته بين المواطنيين الروس ما استهجنه الناس، فقد كانت القواعد تقضى بأن لا يحصل كل فرد يقف بـ"الطابور" على أكثر من عبوة سكر واحدة، لكن صاحبنا طلب ست عبوات دفعة واحدة! فلما واجهه زملاء "الطابور" بما لا يحب أن يسمع، قرر الزعيم – الذى كان شاباً - أن يلجأ للاستهبال! والمصطلح – مرة أخرى – ليس من عندى، وإنما هو المصطلح كما اختاره "الزعيم" وهو يلقى خطابه على مسمع من العالم أجمع!!ـ

"قلت استهبل"! قالها الرجل معجباً بعبقريته، دون أن تهتز تحت أقدامه الأرض، ودون أن ترتج فوق رأسه أركان السماء! فقد قرر صاحبنا – وفق روايته لا روايتنا – أن يوهم من استهجنوا قوله من المواطنين الروس بأنه إنما كان يقصد غير ما نطق به، وأن الأمر لا يعدو كونه خطأً تسبب فيه عدم إلمامه باللغة، فأخذ يكرر ما استهجنه القوم من قوله وهو يشير بإصبعه إلى ما يخالف قوله، إذ كانت حركة الإصبع تشير إلى العدد "واحد" لا إلى العدد "ستة"، بينما يردد اللسان العدد "ستة" لا العدد "واحد"! وهكذا تخلص صاحبنا من المأزق بأن أهدر لغة اللسان ولاذ بلغة الإشارة، أو قل إنه خلط بين اللغتين فكُتِبت له النجاة، ومن خلط بين الأمور فى أيامنا هذه كان له المجد، يجلس على كرسيه، ويمسك بصولجانه، ويحيط بتاج الحكمة رأسَه، حتى وإن لم تحط رأسه بشئ مما خُلِقت الرأس لتحيط به علماً!!ـ

كانت هذه هى القصة "العبقرية" التى أثبت بها صاحبنا – على الهواء مباشرة - استحقاقه للإمساك بمقاليد الحكم فى بلاده: فما دام الحاكم يجيد بفطرته لغة "الاستهبال" – كما نفهم من روايته – فإن أمور الدولة وأمور الأمة تكون فى أيد أمينة، وما على الشعب إلا أن يطمئن، وما عليه إلا أن "ينام" قرير العين والأنف والأذن والحنجرة ... وخاصة "الحنجرة"! هكذا استخف الرجل بطانته فوافقوه، وخرج على مواطنيه يباهى بعبقرية "الاستهبال" التى وهبته إياها أرباب "الأوليمپ" فصفقوا له! وما دام ذلك كذلك، فقد صار على عرشه يقول ما لا يفعل، ويفعل ما لا يقول، والناس فى حيرة من أمرهم، لا يدركون مقصد قوله، ولا هم يحيطون بمقصد فعله؛ فلسانه – منذ كان يدرس فى روسيا – يقول شيئاً، وإصبعه يشير إلى شئ آخر! فإن كانت سلامته فيما قال فقد انحاز لقوله، وإن كانت السلامة فيما يفعل فقوله فعله!!ـ

جعلتنى هذه القصة "العبقرية" أسائل نفسى عن هل صارت العلاقة المتبادلة بين الحاكم والمحكوم فى بلادنا تحكمها عبقرية "الاستهبال"؟! حاكم يؤكد لشعبه إنه القائد الضرورة الذى لا يمكن الاستغناء عنه، وشعب يؤكد لحاكمه إنه بالروح والدم سوف يفتديه! كلاهما يعلم أنه كاذب، وكلاهما يعلم أن الآخر إنما يكذب عليه! فـ "الضرورة" سيدركها الموت حتماً ولو كانت فى بروج مشيدة، وبقاء الأمة – كل أمة – مشروط دائماً بقدرتها على أن تلد رجالاً تستغنى بهم عمن أدوا أدوارهم من الرجال، وعلى أن تلد نساءً تستغنى بهن عمن أنهين أدوارهن من النساء؛ وليس من يجهل أن أحداً – حين تحين لحظة النهاية – لن يفدى أحداً، كما لن يفتديه أحدٌ، لا بالروح، ولا بالدم، ولا حتى بشربة ماء حين يشح الماء! الكل يعلم أن من هتفوا لقيصر إنهم إنما يموتون من أجله لم يكونوا يملكون الحق فى اختيار ساعة الأجل، وأنه حتى "پروتوس" – حين كثرت السكاكين – قرر أن يدفن خنجره فى قلب قيصر! ورغم ذلك فمازالت الضرورة تحكمنا، ومازال الفداء بالروح والدم وقوداً لاستمرار الضرورة، أو هو شرط اشتعال ووهج عبقرية "الاستهبال"!ـ

Let the kids build a better world

Under the Siwaian Sun ....

In a desperate attempt to escape the city and just have peace and a space, be disconnected for a while and breath clean air, I back bagged, borrowed a sleeping bag, and called the leader of a group I never heard of before so he would confirm that our trip to Swia oasis will still be on inspite of the bad weather that will overcome the city during this weekend. I had my other two friends with me, we had no idea what we are up to, who we are going with, we all decided its about time for an escape and just stood infront of the mini bus waiting for more people we have never met before to accompany us in a 12 hours journey in the desert.

I entered my 3rd decade few years ago however I never felt like I do belong to the 30 something box yet, most of my other friends are either single very busy people who gave up on such crazy ideas of having an adventure even if its just for a weekend, or just married couples with children who would love nothing as much as spending their weekend in bed with their kids. And since I didn’t belong to either of the two groups, I decided I have to find new people and mingle and start being more socially active specially while my best friends either live abroad or just about to leave soon.

But me – not socially intelligent at all – had to make a hell of an effort and open up a little bit and put my judgmental cynical attitude on the shelf and go with the flow. Right infront of the bus I met them for the first time, 8 other people from the age of 19 to 24. I looked to Salma my friend and she smiled, she got it from my look and I felt like the rest of them just looking at us and thinking, uh weirdoes! In your early 20s you never expect to be acting or looking like me in your 30s, I myself used to have a vision of me being a mum with at least one kid when hitting my 30s, but infront of them was a pony tailed short single girl carrying her pillow and looking fiercely at them, guess thinking what the hell was I thinking, this trip sucks already I will never be able to mingle, I have a 21 years old brother and we rarely say hi when it happen and we accidentally cross each other path.

I found Salma nodding calmly and telling me not to worry it's gonna be okay, I will still have fun. Then I looked at the bus, a very small bus so I looked back at her and guess she laughed at how terrified I looked and the panic attack ahead of her. We entered the bus, they looked cheerful yet still questioning and then their leader who is also 20 sth started introducing himself and asked the rest to introduce themselves to the others. Now I really panicked, dammit I'm not gonna give my age away. But fortunately it went smooth and we gave our names and a very short brief about what we do in life. Then we took off to the desert and some started having small chats while other preferred their Ipod company, me and Salma stayed awake chatting for a while and after 6 hours we decided we better try to sleep as we still have more 6 hours ahead of us.

We reached Siwa in the morning and the fresh air carried within it a rural smell that was so virgin and hasn't been affected by any kind of pollution. We head to our camp and since the tents weren’t ready for us yet, we the girls invaded the only hut in there while the boys guess went to the hot spring. I just slept for very few hours to wake up to the voice of the boys playing football near our hut, checked the bathroom, at least we had one, then our guide said its time to start our tour as there are a number of hot springs to visit and its about time. Still not talking to anybody but my two friends, and every now and then checking the only young girl with us, Rehab a 20 years old photographer who is so energetic, guess she didn’t bother to rest at all and while I was napping she took off alone to somewhere near our camp to take photos. She was loud, cheerful, challenging and up to anything and everything. When we reached the hot spring some went swimming while the others including me instead of sitting doing nothing decided to follow Rehab the photographer in her adventure as she decided to discover the area on her own so we decided to accompany her. Guess at the very beginning it wasn’t a very wise decision as I found myself in the middle of a meadow with long dry hay, we just followed her and away from the cuts everywhere in our hands and legs - the boys were wearing shorts! - I was enjoying it in a weird way, maybe as I never imagined this before, then we reached the sea and away from the mud and cuts I was so happy and seem that it showed so the others started talking to me and the ice melt on its own.

I smiled seeing them not fearing approaching and having a conversation and just like that we all started talking and on our way back to the hot spring I knew their names. Our next destination was to a place in the middle of the sea full of huts and ducks, I sat by the shore for a while enjoying the breeze then I joined the rest of them and started taking pictures of the place, again we had few talks and waited for sunset then took off to have dinner in a Siwaian restaurant. By then we were all tired but having a great time and I came to know all of their names and a hint about them, we laughed about food, tried to learn the language, tasted each other plates and tried their tea which was so sweet and very nice. Later we took off back to the camp in an attempt to get some sleep so we can be ready for another long day but once we reached there some decided to get into the hot spring again as it was freezing and the hot water was so tempting while the rest gathered around eachother nearby a fire under the full moon, in no time we decided we don’t want to sleep though the tents were ready and we didn't mind the cold weather so we started a game, we were all laughing, goofing and picking on eachother and for the first time in a long time I was young again. Their spirit and freshness was so contagious that I was just so eager to get back on time, I looked at them and remembered that once upon a time I was just the same, and I even started suggesting games to play, we talked about movies and favorite quotes and master scenes.

The next morning we woke up for breakfast and sure Siwaian tea that I guess we were addicted to by then. They all decided that we have like an hour before our desert excursion so our leader decided we go hike in a nearby mountain. My two friends weren’t excited to hike as much as I was and on the way there they abandoned me with the group to return back to the camp and read. I found myself with the group alone and hiking for the first time in my life but what the heck I kept going though I didn’t talk much. The boys were so kind they all acted nice and they always kept an eye on me and Rehab the photographer who was going wild climbing eagerly with her camera (Dawlat) and taking pictures. I was clumsy so two of them accompanied me and tried to protect and guide me all the way up the hills. And by the time we reached the peak, the view was amazing, we gathered for a group photo and laughed about having no idea on who to follow to get back down, I found them so kind giving me a hand and trying routes before asking me to follow them and I was touched by their kindness and helpful gestures.

Back to the camp we were divided into two 4x4 cars with expert desert drivers and we had our excursions in the smooth waves of very soft sand everywhere around us, we were racing and laughing loudly and stopped to check few hot springs in the desert before going sand boarding and watching sunset. The boys were so excited and started betting on who will master the sand boarding this time and have more rounds. Me and Salma weren’t enthusiastic to share so we backed off while our other friend Chitra just hit the sand. One of the guys came to me saying I cant travel for 12 hours to come to the desert and not try this, so again since I was absorbing their spirit I said what the heck hand me a board am on fire. That wasn’t even in my wildest dreams as I didn’t even know about such kind of sport and away from all the fun one might think it could be, yet still it’s the most freeing feeling ever. I who hated the beach because of the sand didn’t mind having sand in my eyes and ears, I was literally buried in sand and I loved it. We loved the contest among the guys and Rehab as she the tiny little girl managed to beat them all and had all her rounds and maybe more. Two of the boys dedicated their time to go grab her every time she falls, while another one was standing taking pictures of the rest and managed by the end of the day and right before sunset to convince Salma to at least have one round and she did.

Again a really fun day ended with laughs and we saw sun set and went back to the camp for dinner, we gathered around the tables on the floor and ate together on candle lights and again had the Siwaian tea, then we started playing games and getting to know more about everyone indirectly through their favorite things in life. I was attacked by all living blood sucking crawling and flying creatures but I stood still till the end of the night playing and laughing with them and I just felt like we all knew eachother before and that weird feeling I felt at the very beginning just disappeared. I didn’t see in their eyes the weird look that was there at the very beginning; on the contrary we all talked about our weirdest moments, shared views and guessed one another character and number of siblings, till we were all so exhausted so we decided to get some rest before sun rise. The third day was our last day, we were supposed to have a tour in the village and check few monuments so after having our last breakfast together and trying the Siwaian "Afket" which I have no idea what exactly the ingredients but it had onions in it, yet we all loved eating it. We again grabbed our sleeping bags, said goodbye to our host and checked Cleopatra's bath and Amoun temple, then went shopping in the village for olives, dates, and souvenirs, had tea with pancakes and went to Gabal el mouta before hitting the road back to Cairo.

Our way back to the city wasn’t like how we started, now we all know eachother and the trip back was more fun though we all shared one feeling, we didn’t want this to end. We started playing the game of first impressions and I was delighted to know that though I gave a firm belief at the very beginning of being a serious not fun person to know but they agreed on me being an easy going person. I never thought that I would really enjoy such a trip, to me it was like an adventure, sleeping in a hut in the desert, sand boarding and enjoying the company of total strangers and being comfy around them. I was young in spirit for an entire weekend and I loved it, I loved their cheerful spirit and hoped nothing will ever ruin it for them. Adam our easy going active leader. Moumen the very kind pure helpful guy ever. Chip and Dale or as they kept referring to eachother Da Vinci Etisalat and Azhari Mobinil, fun guys very energetic and competing all the time. Bakir the calm dreamy guy who reminded me of myself 10 yrs ago maybe because I studied English literature like him. Mahdy the funny light spirited guy who picks on everyone in a nice fun manner. Sherif the calm and loyal Disney movies addicted fan, Chitra the social fun with the coolest giggle ever. The hyper active, very talented Rehab and her inseparable Dawlat. Abd El Rahaman or Mr. ego our very proud 4x4 driver. Hemeda the siwaian smiley guy and our guide, kind, cheerful and always helpful. And sure Saloumi the always ready, prepared and always cold even with 3 heavy layers of socks on.

We stopped in the middle of the way to have a quick bite then back to Cairo we said goodbye and promised to stay in touch. Next day I got a group email invitation to a new place outside Cairo for the next weekend, I cheerful replied yes am on. Now that it turned out that what I feared most and thought I am not capable of is the only way for me to revive the lost me, I guess I am going from now on to adopt this spirit of positives I found in them and be the fun older sister they agreed on me being.

I am hiking next week, wanna join?

How to begin life from where everybody else is ending it

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, tells the story of Benjamin Button, a man who starts aging backwards with bizarre consequences, and how life isn't measured in minutes, but in moments. And how your life is defined by its opportunities... even the ones you miss. You never know what's comin' for you no matter which road you chose or how different you were created, or even how you started or going to end.

Yet in every ones life journey and along the way you bump into people who make a dent on your life. Some people get struck by lightning yet stood up and resumed. Some are born to sit by a river and viewed life from a totally different prespective. Some have an ear for music yet never dared to play an insturment. Some are artists who werent given the opportunity but they always knew about their talents. Some swim the English Channel and never gave up on reaching their dreams. Some know buttons and care for nothing but it. Some know Shakespeare and expressed themselves through others. Some are mothers as passionate, self giving and love unconditionally. And some people can dance and breath through it.

T.S Eliot was quoted saying "everytime we meet we are total strangers", now one might travel, meet new people, experience life differently, taste it differently, get struck by a lightening, hit by a car, lose a lover, go through different life cycles till you decide on resting or slowing your paces and something finding finds peace in getting back to where it all began believing its going to be the same, believing you can, yet as the movie illustrated it ... It's a funny thing about comin' home. Looks the same, smells the same, feels the same. You'll realize what's changed is you. and its never the same.

For what it's worth: it's never too late or, in my case, too early to be whoever you want to be. There's no time limit, stop whenever you want. You can change or stay the same, there are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. And I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people with a different point of view. I hope you live a life you're proud of. If you find that you're not, I hope you have the strength to start all over again. So everyday if you are blessed by being alive, start your life all over again, you have today but you have no clue about tomorrow, so capture what you have got.

we're meant to lose the people we love. How else would we know how important they are to us? no you can just go on living knowing the fact that you got to let go and care for what you have right now and cherish every single moment with those you love the most as the day will come when you will regret most not letting them know how much you loved them just because you had no idea you loved them that much.

You can be as mad as a mad dog at the way things went. You could swear, curse the fates, but when it comes to the end, you have to let go. We all got to let go, let go of dreams that are not meant to be, let go of a life thats not for us, let go of clinging to what we cant rely on, let go of pain and suffer and move on. Cursing your luck and the self pity will lead to the same end, so no matter how angry one can be with life, we will all end up letting go of it.

I would listen to the house breathin'. All those people sleepin'. I felt... safe. Always dreamed of independency, living on my own till I find someone to share life with, now when one experienced losing those whom he took for granted, whom he considered as an emotional burden, when they are gone, when they stop breathing, when one loses this warmth of their breath around him, I guess by then sleeping safely wont be guaranteed anymore.

Extracts from the funniest black comedy blog ever

I really enjoyed reading her posts, Ghada abd el 3al book now is among the best seller...she the funniest ever Egyptian girl who managed to present our problems in the most sarcastic funny manner ever.
Ghada tackles the usual common female problems of our time rather than sexual harassment and women suppression. She when discussing marriage, divorce, singlehood is just helping in finding us a path through which we will connect and not feel so bad about ourselves.
Ghada managed by going with the saying "haam ybaki wee haamm yda7ak" to excel in
drawing a smile on our faces when reading her blog in times of despair so we can all share a laugh over what some might consider misery.

http://wanna-b-a-bride.blogspot.com/

يا أخي البنات مقصفوين الرقبة دول خلاص إستقووا و افتروا

إفتروا إيه ..قول توحشوا ..البنت من دول بقى يندب في عينها رصاصة

رايحة الشغل ..جاية من النادي ..رايحة الدرس ..راجعة من السينما

لا بقوا يتثبتوا ولا يتظبطوا و كله كوم و اللي حبست الواد اللي كان بيعاكسها دي كوم ..فين بنات زمان ..ولا واحدة كانت بتفتح بقها
و قد كان ..قررنا نحن الإخوة الرجال المقهورون إننا صحيح رجالة ..بس من زمان ماوقفناش وقفة رجالة ..ضد سيطرة المرأة على كل مجريات الحياة..ضد زحف جحافل النساء و شراذم الفتيات على كل المهن و المواقع ..ضد مشيهم في الشارع ..ضد ركوبهم الميكروباصات ..ضد إعتراضهم لما حد يمد إيده كده والا كده ..ملعونييييين في كللللللل كتاااااااااب ..ما هم اللي بيجيبوه لنفسهم ..اللي ماشية لوحدها ..عشان نفسها تتعاكس..و اللي ماشية مع أبوها والا أخوها و إيش عرف الناس مين ده إن شاء الله ..و اللي راكبه عربية لوحدها ..مش عارفه إن الموضوع ده بيثير الغرائز و اللي راكبه مع واحد جنبها ..مش عارفة إن شرف البنت زي سلك الفرامل ؟..اللي لابسه قصير ..أستغفر الله العظيم ..و اللي لابسه طويل ..إلهي تولعوا بجاز ..ما احنا بنفضل نفكر يا ترى اللبس الطويل ده مخبيه تحته إيه؟ ..اللي خارجة في العيد الصغير دون أي إعتبار لإن الناس لسه خارجة من صيام ..و اللي خارجة في العيد الكبير و الناس نفسها مفتوحة ع اللحمة ..و كله كوم و اللي خارجة في عيد العمال دي كوم .. ما احنا معذورين لما نظن فيها الظنون لأن كل الناس عارفة إن عيد العمال ده هو عيد "المكن" ..ولا سابوا شغلانة إلا و اشتغلوها ..ولا سابوا دراسة إلا ودرسوها ....خايليننا في الرايحة و الجاية ..ماتكنوا في حتة و تريحونا بقى ..و تقعدوا في بيوتكم و تسيبونا ناكل

Desperate times call for desperate measures

I think its a cry all over the world. Being a woman, a female is now a synonymous in various communities in the entire world to suppression, oppression, being considered a minority and having all your rights violated.

When it comes to sexual assault rates, Africa is said to be the highest of all, a matter that pushed women to consider new protection terms the world never heard of before. Now victims can rest sure that even when attacked, this rapist will instantly get what he deserves, and thats why Rape-aXe is invented for.

http://www.antirape.co.za/intro.htm

With the sexual harassment cases piling up in Egypt nowadays, I guess soon enough women will reach new terms of protection, it doesn’t have to be as violent as that of the South African women, but since we pledged for our rights and still can't guarantee being safe when walking in our streets, then I guess no one to blame us when looking for new terms of safety measures that will at least stand out as a clear proof that we too can hit back.

My favorite funny creative print ads ... enjoy

Kolo ella dahhhh... omal eih

Excerpt: 'The Caged Virgin' by Ayaan Hirsi Ali

"The Caged Virgin", is said to be a number of essays written by Ayaan Hirsi Ali. I didnt get it yet & didnt read it, but in my search as I am too questioning my religion more than doubting God's existence, I came to find few paragraphs online of which when reading I had a sort of mixed feelings that I cant identify yet. However, I will be looking for her book "Infidel", as I do agree with Ayaan in many of her presented thoughts specially those about women and Islamophobia yet not all what she presented in the few I read appealed to me, and I am not an Islamic expert to conclude with a satisfying response to that now.
For me its kindda different as I managed to a certain extent to separate religion from Arab Eastern culture, traditions, beliefs and customs. I too still wondering and questioning alot of matters in Islam, I "with all respect to prophet Mohammed" who is a humanbeing messenger dont care much & dont consider "Hadith" to be a base or reference to get back to when being challenged.
Quran so far is my reference to a religion I inherited and didnt choose, convinced with to a certain extent but in the phase of questioning many of its rules, there is nothing wrong with that, why use others brains while you are granted one?!
On the other hand , in here not all what Ayaan said is pasted, just few paragraphs from The Caged Virgin excerpt. I dont agree with few of what she mentioned and didnt care much for the parts in which she was calling for Western intellects to help (not included). To me, her asking for "Western help" is nothing but a proof that her main problem with the religion (that she maybe disregarded) is the cultural Eastern ideology imposed on Islam, rather than Islam itself. Still I do agree with many and I kindda highlighted her words for that, yet dont agree with much and can easily state why. Religions in general conquer humans by emotionally manipulating them then intellectuallychallenging them. Fear is common, how can you worship without fear, we fear eachother, the Western intellects she is calling for help fear Muslims blind violence. Fear is to exist for a reason, you fear God you follow his rules, you fear your parents, you behave, you fear society you surrend, its always fear that might push towards something... you fear you are wrong, you question, they fear you might be right so they fight you...and so on.

Ayaan Hirsi Ali wrote....
My parents brought me up to be a Muslim -- a good Muslim. Islam dominated the lives of our family and relations down to the smallest detail. It was our ideology, our political conviction, our moral standard, our law, and our identity. We were first and foremost Muslim and only then Somali. Muslims, as we were taught the meaning of the name, are people who submit themselves to Allah's will, which is found in the Koran and the Hadith, a collection of sayings ascribed to the Prophet Muhammad. I was taught that Islam sets us apart from the rest of the world, the world of non-Muslims. We Muslims are chosen by God. They, the others, the kaffirs, the unbelievers, are antisocial, impure, barbaric, not circumcised, immoral, unscrupulous, and above all, obscene; they have no respect for women; their girls and women are whores; many of the men are homosexual; men and women have sex without being married. The unfaithful are cursed, and God will punish them most atrociously in the hereafter. There are also Christians and Jews who raise their children in the belief that they are God's chosen people, but among Muslims the feeling that God has granted them special salvation goes further.

About twelve years ago, at age twenty-two, I arrived in Western Europe, on the run from an arranged marriage. I soon learned that God and His truth had been humanized here. For Muslims life on earth is merely a transitory stage before the hereafter; but here people are also allowed to invest in their lives as mortals. What is more, hell seems no longer to exist, and God is a god of love rather than a cruel ruler who metes out punishments. I began to take a more critical look at my faith and discovered three important elements of Islam that had not particularly struck me before.
The first of these is that a Muslim's relationship with his God is one of fear. A Muslim's conception of God is absolute. Our God demands total submission. He rewards you if you follow His rules meticulously. He punishes you cruelly if you break His rules, both on earth, with illness and natural disasters, and in the hereafter, with hellfire.

The second element is that Islam knows only one moral source: the Prophet Muhammad. Muhammad is infallible. You would almost believe he is himself a god, but the Koran says explicitly that Muhammad is a human being; he is a supreme human being, though, the most perfect human being. We must live our lives according to his example. What is written in the Koran is what God said as it was heard by Muhammad. The thousands of hadiths -- accounts of what Muhammad said and did, and the advice he gave, which survives in weighty books -- tell us exactly how a Muslim was supposed to live in the seventh century. Devout Muslims consult these works daily to answer questions about life in the twenty-first century.

The third element is that Islam is strongly dominated by a sexual morality derived from tribal Arab values dating from the time the Prophet received his instructions from Allah, a culture in which women were the property of their fathers, brothers, uncles, grandfathers, or guardians. The essence of a woman is reduced to her hymen. Her veil functions as a constant reminder to the outside world of this stifling morality that makes Muslim men the owners of women and obliges them to prevent their mothers, sisters, aunts, sisters-in-law, cousins, nieces, and wives from having sexual contact. And we are not just talking about cohabitation. It is an offense if a woman glances in the direction of a man, brushes past his arm, or shakes his hand. A man's reputation and honor depend entirely on the respectable, obedient behavior of the female members of his family.

These three elements explain largely why Muslim nations are lagging behind the West and, more recently, also lagging behind Asia. In order to break through the mental bars of this trinity, behind which the majority of Muslims are restrained, we must begin with a critical self-examination. But any Muslim who asks critical questions about Islam is immediately branded a "deserter." A Muslim who advocates the exploration of sources for morality, in addition to those of the Prophet Muhammad, will be threatened with death, and a woman who withdraws from the virgins' cage is branded a whore.

Through my personal experiences, through reading a great deal and speaking to others, I have come to realize that the existence of Allah, of angels, demons, and a life after death, is at the very least disputable. If Allah exists at all, we must not regard His word as absolute, but challenge it. I once wrote about my doubts regarding my faith in the hope of starting a discussion. I was immediately confronted by zealous Muslims, men and women who wanted to have me excommunicated. They even went so far as to say that I deserved to die because I had dared to call into question the absolute truth of Allah's word. They took me to court to prevent me from criticizing the faith I had been born into, from asking questions about the regulations and gods that Allah's messenger has imposed upon us. An Islamic fundamentalist murdered Theo van Gogh, the Dutch filmmaker who helped me make Submission: Part I, a film about the relationship between the individual and God, in particular about the individual woman and God. And he threatened to kill me, too, a threat that others have also pledged to fulfill.

Like other thinking people, I like to tap into sources of wisdom, morality, and imagination other than religious texts -- other books besides the Koran and accounts of the Prophet -- and I would like other Muslims to tap into them, too. Just because Spinoza, Voltaire, John Stuart Mill, Kant, or Bertrand Russell are not Islamic and have no Islamic counterparts does not mean that Muslims should steer clear of these and other Western philosophers. Yet, at present, reading works by Western thinkers is regarded as disrespectful to the Prophet and Allah's message. This is a serious misconception. Why should it not be permitted to abide by all the good things Muhammad has urged us to do (such as his advice to be charitable toward the poor and orphans), while at the same time adding to our lives and outlook the ideas of other moral philosophers? After all, the fact that the Wright brothers were not Islamic has not stopped Muslims from traveling by air. By adopting the technical inventions of the West without its courage to think independently, we perpetuate the mental stagnation in Islamic culture, passing it on from one generation to the next.

The most important explanation for the mental and material backlog we Muslims find ourselves in should probably be sought in the sexual morality that we are force-fed from birth (see chapter 3, "The Virgins' Cage"). I would like to invite all people like me who had an Islamic upbringing to compare and contrast J. S. Mill's essay "On the Subjection of Women" (1869) with what the Prophet Muhammad has to say on the subject of women. Both were undeniably interested in the role of women, but there is a vast difference between Muhammad and Mill. For instance, Mill considered his beloved wife an intellectual equal; Muhammad was a polygamist and wrote that men have authority over women because God made one superior to the other. Mill, a model of calm reason in the face of contentious issues, argued that if freedom is good for men, it is good for women, a position that today most of the modern world considers unassailable.

Yet any investigation into the Islamic trinity by a Muslim is thought to be an act of complete betrayal of the religion and the Prophet. It is extremely painful for a believer to try to question. And it is extremely painful for a believer to hear that other Muslims are questioning the Islamic trinity. Muslim's strong emotions and condemnations of people who do question the trinity impress outsiders, myself included, especially when they are expressed on a massive scale by entire communities and even nations, as has happened in Egypt, Iran, and Indonesia.

A quick look at Islamic history shows us that critical voices from within Islam have almost all been either killed or exiled. I find myself in good company: Salman Rushdie, Irshad Manji, Taslima Nasreen, Muhammad Abu Zaid -- they all have been threatened by fellow believers and are now being guarded by non-Muslims.

My own criticism of Islamic religion and culture is felt by some to be "harsh," "offensive," and "hurtful." But the attitude of the cultural experts is, in fact, harsher, and more offensive and hurtful. They feel superior and do not regard Muslims as equal discussion partners, but as the "others" who should be shielded. And they think that criticism of Islam should be avoided because they are afraid that Muslims can only respond to criticism with anger and violence. These cultural experts are badly letting down us Muslims who have obeyed the call to show our sense of public responsibility and are speaking out.

Copyright ©2002, 2004 by Ayaan Hirsi Ali and Augustus Publishers. English translation copyright ©2006 by Jane Brown

OK ...stop using mobiles

Fine, thats exactly what I need, seriously with curfews and continious endless phone calls of where the hell are you now, young lady u better get back home right now threats, I guess this stupid google service is just getting on my nerves.

Google has launched a tracking service that lets parents keep an eye on their children - and wives keep tabs on their husbands - round the clock. The software allows owners of mobile phones or BlackBerry hand-held computers to have their whereabouts followed by family and friends anywhere around the world. Once the service is activated, the location of a person's phone appears as a blue dot on a map on the screen of whoever is allowed to monitor them.

The Latitude feature is being promoted by Google as a 'fun' way to 'keep tabs on someone special'. However, it will raise concerns about privacy - and whether it is encouraging a Big Brother culture. The software is included in the latest version of Google 'This adds a social flavour to Google maps and makes it more fun,' said Steve Lee, a Google product manager.

Google insisted there was no threat to privacy. It was up to each user to decide whether to make their location visible to other people - and who could monitor their location. The service was designed to help people keep in touch, a spokesman added. Once switched on, it plots the user's location by using information from mobile phone towers and global positional systems. If a phone is equipped with GPS, then it pinpoints the location to within a few yards. If it isn't, the location is only accurate to hundreds of yards - or in rural areas with few mobile phone masts, several miles. It requires each user to turn on the tracking system, and then choose who they want to share their location with.

People can decide to accept or reject requests from other people to share locations. Google says the service is not open to abuse. It is promising not to store any information about its users' movements. Only the last location picked up by the tracking service will be stored centrally. A Google spokesman said: 'You can choose to hide your location from any person, or just give them a city-wide location. 'You can also type in your location manually. 'That means someone can put in their office, when really they are down the pub.' Google said it developed the tracking system's privacy settings after holding talks with charities helping the victims of domestic abuse.

There had been fears that violent husbands could insist their wives use the feature to keep track of their movements. It will initially be available on BlackBerry mobile phones and devices running the Windows Mobile and Symbian S60 operating systems, such as most Nokia phones. It will be available to iPhone users in the users in the next few weeks and will work abroad in 26 countries, including the United States.

Source:
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/sciencetech/article-1135489/We-know-Google-lets-track-friends-family-mobiles.html

And thats TRANSLATION

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