same-sex marriage

Here is the LA Times article I found on crazy religious people who decide to fast and pray all day, every day, to end abominations like gay marriage and abortion. Even stranger, they set up shop in the Castro (?!!). Suspicious!

First, this is pointless. If the deity to whom they are praying exists, and is paying attention, that deity is likely irritated to be bothered so frequently by the same boring request all the time. If you were this God, and were omniscient and omnipresent, don't you think you would send some sort of sign to these misguided souls? "Hey, I heard you the last 931 times you asked me to squash your evil desires for the gay leather daddies and bears walking under your window. I know what's in your heart. You keep saying 'end the abomination of gay marriage,' but I'm omnipresent, and I see what you do in your free time when the other commune members aren't looking and know that you have a secret account downstairs at Castro Gulch to pick up your hot bareback porn. Could you lay off? Earth is falling apart, and there's a lot of other planets in the galaxy that probably need my assistance. Thanks, have a nice day, and shut up. Oh, and come out of the closet already. I actually don't care, by the way."

Second, what? If you're going to fast and pray all day every day to bring a righteous end to a horrible wrong, why not pick a more worthwhile wrong? I could think of a few things that would warrant a lifetime of prayer. World hunger, lack of access to clean water, war, AIDS, poverty, land mines, the depleted environment, endless greed propped up by capitalism...? Hello?

Third, I am unsurprised by this freaky cult/church being headquartered in East San Diego County. There are fewer scarier places I can think of.

Lastly, this is my personal invitation to you to vote no on Prop 8, which truthfully has more to do with our precious California Constitution than it does with marriage. I generally hold unfavorable views toward marriage, and I agree that it is probably outdated and almost certainly not all it's made out to be. But I really love our Constiution, and so should you.

Did you know that California once had "Alien Land Laws" which barred all "aliens ineligible for citizenship" (ie, all Asian immigrants, particularly Chinese immigrants who were laying down the railroad) from owning land? It lasted until 1946 when the California Supreme Court finally woke up and held that those laws violate the Fourteenth Amendment. Check out Sei Fujii v. California.

My point is this: it is the Supreme Court's job to interpret the constitution and sometimes overturn legislation when the legislation (Prop 22, or the Knight Initiative) sucks. The whole "will of the voters" argument is a bad one. Google Loving v. Virginia and Brown v. Board of Education, if you're not already familiar with those cases. If the California Constitution gets amended, it will open the floodgates for every other wacked-out group with enough money to be inspired to put their cracked-out initiative and further ruin our constitution.

By the way, the California Supreme Court is largely populated by Republican-appointed judges. Check out what our Chief Justice had to say about the court's decision here. Please note: he was appointed by Ronald Reagan back in 1972. He's not some radical Berkeley tree-sitter named Zorba. He's a well-educated, experienced judge. And he put it better than I could: "the ultimate will of the people is the Constitution."

So, I leave you with this: don't be an intellectual loser. No one is going to come into any church and force church officals to marry those pesky gays and lesbians. No church is going to lose its tax-free status. No school is going to start indoctrinating kids into the evil path of homosexuality (although I would like to point out that the vast majority of homosexuals have heterosexual parents...so if you're gonna push the "defect" argument, you may as well nudge it over to the defective breeders who popped us gaylords out). And if you really want to protect the sanctity of marriage, I fully expect that you also oppose divorce and seek to amend the constitution to that end as well. Doesn't sound so exciting now, does it? Vote no on prop 8.

The Upcoming Election

It's hard not to get excited about the potential for our upcoming federal and state elections.

It's hard not to daydream about the possibility of a world where the middle name of the president of the United States is Hussein, where the Republican party may face a severe majority in the Senate to match its deficiency in the House of Representatives, where same-sex marriage will be protected in California.

It's also hard not to get frustrated when the Republican presidential candidate and vice-presidential candidate keep throwing around the term "Second Holocaust," as if there has been only one Holocaust, as if Jews are the only people who can suffer a Holocaust. As if there haven't already been myriad Holocausts all over the globe. As if indigenous people haven't experienced genocide on every continent on the planet.

Real Clear Politics has the current Electoral College at 353 Obama, 185 McCain. I can't wait. I'd take a simple majority, but I'm salivating over a Republican slaughter, like the way Larry Craig gets all hot and bothered over illicit homo airport bathroom sex.

RIP Mahmoud Darwish

One of our great heroes has passed. And so the world has lost one of its most amazing poets. Rest in peace, Amo. Thank you for the armor, the sword, the pen, the hope.

"As if I returned
to what has been
As if I walked
in front of myself
I restore my harmony
between the trial and the verdict
I am the son
of simple words
I am the martyr of the map
the family apricot blossom
O you who grip the edge
of the impossible
From the beginning until Galilee
Return to me my hands
Return to me
My identity"

From Poem of the Land

It's back...

Project Runway, that is! I was happy to find out that the show has not moved to Lifetime yet (because, as much as I love the Golden Girls, I don't really want to see clothes designed for them... or do I??). There is no Arab Adonis this season to keep us occupied (bye, Rami), but there IS a woman (Terri) who suspiciously resembles Donna Summer, and therefore I already love her. There's also a woman (Stella) who looks like Cher on a bad day after a makeover from Tommy Lee if she hadn't had all that work done on her face (oops), and though she appears to be a one-trick pony when it comes to her designs (and her first one was totally lame and hideous), she is from Queens so therefore I already like her too. There's also a girl named Korto who I like because she seems like someone I'd totally want to hang out with on a daily basis (and have her design outfits for me!). Otherwise, most of the others are boring hipsters who are strangely indeterminate from one another. Except that weird guy called Suede (?!) who is apparently really desperate to have everyone call him Suede (and not Albert or whatever his real name probably is) judging by the fact that he constantly refers to himself in the third person. And Jerell who is actually really cute but kind of looks like a hobo. And Blayne, who is probably insane (hence the rhyme) and used "girlicious" even more often than Christian Siriano used "fierce" (even more bizarrely, he used it in description of this outfit he created, which is probably the last thing I'd describe with that term, except maybe the thing that Jerry guy who got auf'd created). Maybe there ARE interesting people on this season... it's really all too much... you'll have to see for yourself (bravotv.com/projectrunway). And thanks to the teasers, I am SO looking forward to hearing Tim Gunn tell the designers, "Holla at ya boy." Oh Tim Gunn!

We Heart Summer

Summer is, undoubtedly, the time of year most people can't wait for and when hella fun things happen. With one of us just graduated from college, one of us preparing for her last year (hopefully) of graduate school, and another about to begin law school, we're all geared up for an amazing, wayward summer.

We're also having a really busy summer, which should explain the dearth of postings as of late. The Prince of Kabob and I just returned from a two-week visit to Egypt visiting our dear friend Hector Bouvier, where we dined on the Nile, gazed at objects of classical antiquity, strolled the lovely parks of Cairo and beaches of Alexandria, and sweated a whole damn lot. Thank goodness for San Francisco fog! Soon our very own al-Fallaha will be traveling again as well, this time making her way to rock the Balkans.

Lots of good stuff is happening on our home turf, too. One big thing we're looking forward to this summer is the fabulous, chic, fun Bibi party, which is celebrating its one-year anniversary this Friday. Really, every wayward Middle Easterner and SWANA folk should be there!

Wayward Middle Eastern Girls love summer! Even the foggy San Francisco kind! See you out there... xo

Lessons from Mama Jan #1: Holla We Want Pre-Nup

Although I've yet to read Barack Obama's Dreams from My Father, I've been inspired to offer my own tales of race, inheritance, culture, and assimilation.

Like the proper Middle Eastern child, I revere and endlessly adore my feisty immigrant mother. Perhaps atypically, we have a simultaneously intense and irreverent relationship, and she is among my closest friends. She advises me on matters of the heart, education, finances, beauty, relationships, and countless other things (except sex, of course!). We are bluntly honest with one another, and this honesty mixed in with some linguistic fun leads to mighty fine advice and even louder laughter.

A few weeks ago, California's State Supreme Court ruled that prohibiting same-sex marriage is illegal. On her evening commute home, stuck in traffic in the San Fernando Valley, my mom calls me. Below is an approximate, but accurate, transcript.

Mama Jan: "I have heard the news today! Congratulations, Bianco! I am happy for my children and that this godforsaken country finally did something right."
Me: "Yeah, Mom, tell me about it. Now we have to beat the amendment on the ballot coming up in November."
Mama Jan: "What? What kind of stupid jahkesh would do such a thing?"
Me: "Republicans...Jesus freaks...the usual! So you'll have to get out and vote."
Mama Jan: "Oh, I will. I will force anyone who will listen to me, to go and beat this."
Me: "Good! Should you really be driv-"
Mama Jan: "Wait! So, when you get married someday, how will you do your taxes?"
Me: "It's quite complicated. You have to each file federal as single, but state as married filing jointly, and then a fourth ghost return."
Mama Jan: "This is the stupidest thing I have ever heard. What kind of freedom is this?"
Me: "I agree! Accountants will be rich!"
Mama Jan: "So...what happens if you get a divorce? Do you have to pay alimony, and child support?"
Me: "I assume so, yeah."
*pause*
Mama Jan: "OK, Bianca Jan. Just make sure, sign a pre-nup. Someday, you will have a lot of money. Love is important, but be smart! Protect yourself!"

Please stay tuned for more wise advice, as I intend to make "Lessons from Mama Jan" an ongoing feature here at Wayward Middle Eastern Girls.

Victimized? A Fashion Controversy

As if it wasn't bad enough that the keffiyeh has been warranting so much debate thanks to its inappropriate adoption by those who think Urban Outfitters invented the thing, Palestine is again making news in the fashion world due to the production of a this tee shirt (as featured on the Fashionista website) displaying the image of a Palestinian youth holding a gun with the word "Victimized" written below him. While Fashionista appears to dislike the shirt, as well as totally misunderstand its purpose (there's no explanation of "why it was intended to be funny or ironic" because it WASN'T, geniuses), Freshjive-- the company that created it-- has offered an eloquent, intelligent, and perfectly acceptable defense of the shirt and rationale for its production.

While I am very critical of Urban Outfitters (namely because their clothes are way overpriced and often way ugly, plus the keffiyeh issue of course), I am not surprised they sold the shirt, given their apparent habit of wrongly using Palestinian images and culture for capitalist purposes. I am also not surprised they pulled the shirt, as they obviously weren't selling it for political reasons (and clearly have no backbone). So of course, that fact is a source of annoyance. But the reason I have Freshjive's back on this issue is because this is not a matter of simple misappropriation. The company knew exactly what they were doing by making the shirt; it wasn't (only) a money thing. Rather, the shirt was created as a political statement, a part of the company's "The World's Got Problems" line in which true political issues facing the world today are brought into the open. As Rick, the owner of Freshjive, states in his defense, "is it not simply true that some Palestinian kids have become child soldiers due to the ongoing battle between Palestine and Israel?... Is it not simply true that some Palestinians and especially Palestinian children are victims of this terrible conflict?" Can't deny that.

Even more so, I have their back because of the criticism they have received for the shirt-- not just aesthetic (that people think it is ugly or in poor taste because it features an unfortunate truth) but political. People have actually complained that the shirt is, among other things, a "brutal, bloody, Jew-hating tee shirt." I am pretty sure, just by looking at the shirt, that there is no mention of Jews (or people of any religion or ethnicity other than Palestinian) on it, and that it claims no political opinion thereof; it simply states that Palestinian children have often been victimized as a result of the conflict in Palestine, as stated above. There's nothing else to it, and if you have to make that kind of leap to support your case, you don't have much of one-- and if you are so quick to label things as hateful or bigoted when they really aren't, you should probably examine why you need to be that defensive to begin with.

Personally, I like what the shirt is saying and the creator's reason for making it. I think anyone who wears it-- unlike the ubiquitous keffiyeh-usurpers-- knows what it means and knows why they are wearing it, which I support. While I do have to think that it might serve to objectify Palestinians even more so than they already are, I also appreciate the fact that a company is taking these risks to speak their opinions and speak the truth about what goes on in the world-- the things that people don't like to think about or admit.

Al-Nakba Event in SF!

Bay Area people (or should I say, beble?), you MUST come to this event on Saturday May 10 in SF, recognizing 60 years of al-Nakba (the Disaster) in Palestine-- the destruction of homes, seizure of land, denial of existence, and, yes, apartheid state, for Palestinians. It is being organized in part by our very own hardworking Miss al-FallaHa, among others, and is going to be excellent. The entertainment features the amazing local soul-funk-hiphop band the Scribe Project, the lovely and talented DJ Emancipacion, NaR, Dam, and other hotness.

Here's the scoop from the organizers, plus the flyer. Remember, the event is FREE and close to BART and Muni. Yalla, come out!

The Local Nakba Committee

and the Palestine Right to Return Coalition Present

Nakba-60, Palestine Peace and Solidarity Festival

MAY 10^TH 2008, 12-6pm

CIVIC CENTER, SAN FRANCISCO

We invite you to commemorate 60 years of struggle and resistance on the anniversary of the Palestinian Nakba, Arabic for "catastrophe" and marks the expulsion, dispossession and ethnic cleansing of the Palestinian people.

Bring the family, and join us for a special day of resistance music, cultural and youth programs, Nakba tent/art, Dabka, local solidarity groups and more! Meet survivors from 1948, and learn about the tragedy, while listening to Palestinian and Native American elders recount their experiences. Childcare assistance will be provided on-site.

FREE AND OPEN TO THE PUBLIC

Artists:
Dam, featuring Abeer – see: www.dampalestine.com
Shadia Mansour: http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=66013030
Fred Wreck
Ras Ceylon
Arab Summit: Narcicyst, Excentrik, Omar Offendum, Ragtop
Scribe Project
Rebel Diaz

Special performances by: Boots Riley, NaR, Mamaz, Kiwi, Polikal Heat, Rithmatik, Patriarch, and DJ Emancipacion - with MC's: Noura Erakat and Maysoon Ziyad.

We need your support!

Please donate what you can! Make your tax-deductible donation payable to 'Palestine Right to Return Coalition' or "PRRC/Palestine Solidarity" and mail to:

Local Nakba Committee (LNC)
PO Box #668
2425 Channing Way
Berkeley, CA 94704

To donate online: go to: www.al-awda.org, and please make sure to include 'Nakba-60, Palestine Solidarity Festival in the notes, or to the Facebook cause titled "Nakba-60, FREE Palestine Peace & Solidarity Festival".

A special thank you to event partners: Al-Awda, Arab Resource & Organizing Center, Middle East Children's Alliance, American Indian Movement, International Jewish Solidarity Network

Never Forget.

Let us never forget the injustices carried out against those who have done nothing to deserve the terror and displacement and apartheid and genocide enforced upon them. Let us never forget our people, our struggles, and the land from which we came, from which we were banished, to which we will someday rightfully return. Let us not forget that many of us fled our stolen land only to settle in stolen land, and that it is our responsibility to stand in solidarity with others as we stand for our own struggles. Let us not forget the meaning of the word "home" and hold it with us even when it feels we do not have one. Let us never forget, even as many of those who've had the sharpest memories and suffer the deepest wounds leave us. Let us never forget that these things still happen, today, all around the world.


For Armenia. For Palestine. For Sudan. For Iraq. For America. For the world.

Event this Saturday - Bibi Chic in SF

Wayward Middle Eastern Girls wants you to come party with us! This isn't just "any" party. It's the all-charitable Bibi Chic. Bibi is the jewel of the San Francisco Bay Area's queer Middle Eastern crown. Proceeds from this Saturday's event will go toward 6 different queer organizations (Helem, IRQO, Iraqi LGBT, ASWAT, and two we attendees will get to pick). The entertainment's hot. The DJs are hot. The clubgoers are most definitely hot. And the free food will probably be hottest of all!

Come, and bring 17 of your friends. This club is hands-down my personal favorite of all time, because as I said earlier, it's far more than just "some party" or "some club." It is a beautiful manifestation of community love. I'd never before been to a queer Middle Eastern/SWANA shindig before their party last year, and the whole time, I was struck with curiosity and thrill. Was I living what my parents and aunts and uncles were living, in their wild early adulthood in Tehran's discos? Except, finally, I was getting to do so in a queer space and honor two vital parts of my being at the same time? And...is that free cake in the corner?

More info on Bibi Chic here on its Myspace profile and its Facebook profile.

Club Six, 60 6th Street, San Francisco
$15 cover, only $10 if you get on their mailing list NOW
10 PM - after hours (wink wink)
Free appetizers! (but don't crowd the hummus or I'll bump you)
Ms. Cherry Galette will dance all night (you definitely don't want to miss her performance; she's hella wayward)
DJ Cheon and DJ Masood spinning, and the amazing (also hella wayward) DJ Emancipacion will keep you dancing for longer than you thought possible

Be there! And if you're thinking, "oh, I'm out of town for the weekend," stay tuned. There will be a Pride-related event in June, Bibi's birthday!

Look Into My Eyes

Look into my eyes, tell me what you see
You don’t see a damn thing, cuz you can’t relate to me.
You’re blinded by our differences, my life makes no sense to you.
I’m the persecuted one, you’re the red white and blue.
You stay awake in tranquility, a face to cross your eyes.
Each day I wake in gratitude, thanking God he let me rise.
You worry about your education and the bills you have to pay,
I worry about my vulnerable life, and if I’ll survive another day.
Your biggest fear is getting a ticket as you close your cadillac,
My fear is that the tank that has just left will turn around and come back.
Do you know the truth of where your money goes?
Do you let the media deceive your mind?
Is this the truth, that nobody, nobody, nobody knows?
Someone tell me, ooohh
Let’s not cry tonight, I promise you one day is through
Ooohh my brothers, ooohh my sister, ooohh
Shine a light for every soul that ain’t with us no more,
Ooohh my brothers, ooohh my sisters.
See, I’ve known terror for quite some time.
57 years so cruel.
Terror breathes the air I breathe
It’s the checkpoint on my way to school.
Terror is the rivalry of my land, and the torture of my mother
The imprisonment of my innocent father, the bullet in my baby brother.
The bulldozers and the tanks
The gasses and the guns
The bombs that fall outside my door, all due to your funds.
You blame me for defending myself against the ways of my enemy,
I’m terrorized in my own land, and I the terrorist.
Do you know the truth of where your money goes?
Do you let the media deceive your mind?
Is this the truth, that nobody, nobody, nobody knows?
Someone tell me, ooohh
Let’s not cry tonight, I promise you one day is through
Ooohh my brothers, ooohh my sister, ooohh
Shine a light for every soul that ain’t with us no more,
Ooohh my brothers, ooohh my sisters.
America do you realize that the taxes that you pay
Feed the forces that traumatize my every living day?
So if I won’t be here tomorrow, it’s written in my faith
May the future bring a brighter day, the end of our wait.
Ooohh, let’s not cry tonight, I promise you one day is through
Ooohh my brothers, ooohh my sister, ooohh
Shine a light for every soul that ain’t with us no more,
Ooohh my brothers, ooohh my sisters.
Ooohh, let’s not cry tonight, I promise you one day is through
Ooohh my brothers, ooohh my sister, ooohh
Shine a light for every soul that ain’t with us no more,
Ooohh my brothers, ooohh my sisters.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3P12aqVeZkQ
I encourage everyone to listen to this beautiful song. It might just open up your eyes a bit... and maybe make them tear. (And yes, I transcribed it all by myself :)

Wayward Hookah Girl

I've been looking for something positive and creative to post about after the exit of Project Rami-- and lord knows those can be hard to find, these days. However, today while performing a Google search for an art project, I stumbled upon the website of Marguerite Dabaie, a Palestinian-American artist and cartoonist based in Brooklyn who was born and raised in S.F. Check out the work on her page, which includes excerpts from her book, Hookah Girl and Other True Stories (which is available for purchase at what I believe is a very reasonable cost). Her work reminds me of Alison Bechdel and Joe Sacco rolled up in kickass wayward Pali girl attitude, addressing (from what I can tell so far) the idea of being Palestinian, American, and female, from childhood through adulthood, through topics such as the annual Palestine Day festival in SF, grandparents and tradition, identity politics, and the keffiyeh as a designer fashion accessory (which you know I have an opinion about!).

Check out her page! And also check out the links on her Hookah Girl site for more Arab-related political and artists' sites. It's always exciting to hear from another wayward ME girl who's doing something different, making art out of life and identity, and making herself heard. Word!

Homophobes Are Gay

The proof is in the pudding. And by pudding, I mean a study which has proven that "homophobic behaviors are just the schoolyard bully's more obvious version of a hanky code" (Violet Blue). Tell that to the unfunny Jay Leno-- who, honestly, I had no idea was still on TV-- and his apparent bizarre fixation with Ryan Phillippe's long-ago gay soap opera role. Hmm. Violet Blue investigates!

Makes sense, really. If you're a straight person who brings up the issue of gayness randomly, unnecessarily, and often, or if you're so homophobic that you actually spend your time and effort protesting against gayness-- as with the person mentioned at the end of Violet's column, and numerous others-- or, even more so, dedicate whole chunks of your life and career to homophobia (Jerry Falwell, et. al.), there's got to be something deeper lurking behind the surface, and I don't just mean hot air (though there's lots of that too). Seriously, if you weren't thinking about gayness all the time, you wouldn't be doing that. And thus, you make yourself fodder for the plots of certain genres of adult films...

She's Bringing Jesus Back

As the Obama pastor "scandal" has unfurled, and as the senator has effectively rebounded with a speech many pundits are praising as a nomination-clincher, I wondered where the HRC campaign was. Why wouldn't they strike now?

Then I came across this Huffington Post article by Barbara Ehrenreich, which details a secretive group called the "Fellowship," or the "Family." Basically, these folks are crazier about Jesus than even Fox News, and I mean in the most profoundly dangerous way. Ehrenreich refers to a Mother Jones article which is also worth a close read. You can debate as to whether HRC's participation in this group is merely politically strategic, but keep in mind the association goes back for at least 15 years, if not more. Could she possibly have held the same political aspirations that began to surface post-Lewinsky? Doubtful. Read and draw your own conclusions.

In other political notes, Senator McCreepy McCain thinks that Iran, Iraq, Al-Qaeda, Sunnis, and Shiites are all the same thing. What a bright fellow! Who says geriatrics aren't capable of leadership and global understanding?

"Desert Scarves," or, The Misappropriation of Culture

As my cohort the Prince of Kabob introduced in a previous post, one subject that has received much of my ire lately is the recent (though not new) trend of wearing the Palestinian keffiyeh, apparently known to Urban Outfitters (among other retailers) and clueless wearers as a "desert scarf," as a casual clothing accessory. My opinion on the matter began as interested, became conflicted, and eventually has evolved into straight-up anger. When I first began to see people wearing the keffiyeh a couple of years ago-- here and there, not very often-- I would think that it was maybe kind of cool, that maybe they were wearing it as a political statement of being down for the Palestinian cause-- but mostly, I wondered why 21st century San Francisco hipsters were interested in dressing like my deceased great-grandfather and his peers, the keffiyeh being first and foremost just a regular old traditional Arab scarf that farmers and other men used to wear (and still do) to protect their heads from the sun and dirt and sand, which has also evolved into a symbol of Palestinian nationalism and culture. I too have worn the keffiyeh, before this "desert scarf" business came about, both as a symbol of my activism and heritage, and as a means of keeping warm.

Within the past couple of years, though, more and more people-- namely those trend-focused persons whose numerous atrocities in the name of "fashion" I will refrain from detailing at the moment-- have been wearing the keffiyeh, to the point at which it has evolved into a simple, mass-produced, completely inauthentic, trendy piece of clothing that has lost its meaning. I have seen it sold, in many ridiculous colors, by Urban Outfitters (as mentioned before), at army surplus stores, and at shops in trendy neighborhoods.

My issues here are severalfold. First, it makes me laugh that people will pay eighteen dollars (!) for this mass-produced item, when the real thing (which is much more attractive, incidentally) costs much less. Second, it irritates me that people are appropriating this piece of Arab culture without having any idea at all what it represents, or what it means to wear this, or caring to find out, or even knowing its origin-- in essence, being very ignorant about what they choose to put on their bodies. I realize that some non-Arab people do wear this while participating in acts of activism or in support of the cause, and I accept this as long as they educate themselves on the keffiyeh and its meaning and do not fetishize it or the Palestinian/Arab people. If you like the scarf and want to wear it, fine-- just know what it's all about.

Perhaps most of all, it angers me that Arab culture is being commodified and sold by a capitalist and colonialist nation which dares to accuse people of terrorism while unapologetically committing horrible acts of terrorism itself (see previous post for an example). Essentially the commodification of the keffiyeh is an act to discredit the Palestinian cause, making it something to take lightly via the mainstream misappropriation of one of its most recognizable images. That a nation's retailers would promote the production and sale of this imitation item while simultaneously condemning those who have worn it and brought it into the public view as an item of both culture and the cause (Leila Khaled, Arafat, the Palestinian people and most Arabs) is outrageous and hypocritical, but, sadly, not surprising. Why not make a few bucks off the people who we work hard to keep ignorant (Americans) and who we work hard to disenfranchise and destroy (Palestinians, Iraqis, etc...)? It is, after all, the American way!

Yes, I do think it carries much different meaning when an Arab-American wears the scarf as opposed to other types of American. I will bet you that 99 percent of the time, when an Arab wears this scarf, this person will know exactly what it means to do so, whether culturally or as a sign of solidarity, or both. I know that this is not the case with most of those who wear the sweatshop-made, mass-produced imitations in such fun colors as pink and yellow. If somebody likes the appearance of the keffiyeh and chooses to wear it, they are free to do so, but in my opinion should at least be aware of the connotations, and if they do not agree with them, or do not care either way, should not wear the keffiyeh. It troubles me to have my heritage and my people's struggles commodified and trivialized in such a way, and that is exactly what is being done, whether the wearer is aware of it or not.

And for the record, it's not called a freaking "desert scarf."

Anniversaries

Today is the 40th anniversary of the My Lai Massacre, during which the US forces in Vietnam slaughtered about 500 Vietnamese villagers. The general American public did not learn of My Lai until November 1969, more than 1.5 years later, when an investigative reporter broke the story.

Later this week comes the 5th anniversary of the US invasion of Iraq. How many My Lais are there in Iraq? You'd have to go far back, looking at the Iran-Iraq War of the 1980s, when the Reagan administration generously provided Saddam Hussein with chemical weapons and more, allowing him to further brutalize not only Iran but also the Kurds of his own country. (The New York Times broke this story in August 2002. I encourage you to research and learn more for yourself.) Fast forward a bit to the most recent Iraq war: in September 2007, a reputable independent research firm (ORB of the UK) put the number at 1.2 million dead Iraqis. For your reference, there are currently about 4,000 dead US soldiers.

1.2 million dead is not a massacre. It is not a war. It is a genocide. But the US feels "uncomfortable" with that word. They won't pin it on the Ottoman Empire for trying to eradicate as many Armenians as possible. They certainly won't pin it on themselves despite actively warmongering. They'll hope that because the 1.2 million dead include Arabs and Kurds, you'll assume that one group is definitely a bunch of terrorists and the others probably are too (even though you have no idea who or what Kurds are), and thus you won't get too inquisitive. And they certainly hope you never start asking about any My Lais in Palestine or in Lebanon, because then you'd certainly stop believing everything your government tells you. You'll start doing all sorts of unpredictable things, like figuring out that Barack Obama is not Muslim and didn't take his senatorial oath on a Quran...

Why does this matter to the US? We are, for better or for worse, a democratic republic. We participate in democracy (certain restrictions apply, such as hanging chads and poor voter/ballot access in areas with high concentrations of people of color) and choose our leaders. I do firmly believe if you vote for national leaders who support a particular war, you have Iraqi blood on your hands. (I do also firmly believe Hillary Clinton is included in this hawk category, but that's for another post.)

Why does this matter to me specifically?

Because I have roots in the mysterious "Middle East" - like the other blog operators and much of the readership. Because I am Armenian, an Armenian American fortunate enough to not have immediate family members dead in the early 20th century at the hands of the Young Turks but an Armenian American who feels both grateful to be spared that personal history and absolutely furious that it's continually denied by Turkey and pooh-poohed by the US and the UK.

Because I am also Serbian, the granddaughter of a non-Jewish Holocaust survivor. My paternal grandfather lived in a small village around Zagreb, now in Croatia. As an adolescent, he participated in the local anti-Nazi resistance movements, as a messenger boy. At one point, he was caught, refused to surrender his message to the Nazis, and instead ate it. He was arrested and detained in a concentration camp. After local resistance fighters somehow captured a Nazi general, he was thrown into a prisoner exchange program. Thirty Slavs, one German. When he crawled back to his parents' home, half-dead of tuberculosis, his own mother did not recognize him.

So, another roll of the dice - maybe my grandfather didn't make it in the group of Slavs being exchanged for the Nazi general, maybe my maternal grandmother's family had lived a few miles west on the "wrong" side of the Iran - Turkey border, and I wouldn't be here. I wouldn't be free and well-educated and empowered in America. I would quite possibly not be alive. And I am not unique in this situation; this country is teeming with similar narratives, if you would only listen.

I tell these stories to keep this narrative, my family's narrative, alive, as I realize countless other similar narratives will never be spoken of or written publicly. As comfortable as I may be in a "safe haven" city like San Francisco, I cannot and should not get too comfortable. You shouldn't either.

The Revolution is Available for Purchase

Did you remember to get your mustard-colored keffiyeh - um, I mean, your "houndstooth desert scarf" - from Urban Outfitters? They're available on their US online store! Woo hoo! Maybe they can change their name to Desert Outfitters! The desert is so in, just like skinny jeans, dirty ballet flats, disgustingly big facial hair (on men, that is) waxed into place, and falsely claiming militant vegan status while drinking completely unvegan alcoholic beverages. Anyway, look for more detailed analysis from al-Nawariyeh in the weeks to come. She's been stewing over this disturbing trend for years and will grace us with her rapier wisdom soon.

The Berkeley Hippie and People's Park

It's not like Berkeley and San Francisco are that much different. In both places you have every kind of person out there ... so diverse and so beautiful, yet my friends in San Francisco insist that I am "Sooo Berkeley!" They always reinforce this by calling me a hippie, labeling me "Berkeley", and insisting that I take a shower ... Who needs showers anyway? I take pride in my Berkeley roots, as I'm from here (and Palestine, of course) born, raised, and now as a scholar. They perpetually label me and even introduce me to new people as a Berkeley hippie! Come on guys ... that's so unfair. (I don't really mind this label, but sometimes they take it to extremes!) I don't have dread locks, I'm not sleeping in the trees (though I support the people sleeping there's cause and give them food or beanies, blankets, etc. when I can), and I do make it to the shower every so often. I'm not saying all hippies are what I just described, but that is the common stereotype.
So yesterday at this event I was a part of planning, we had an excess of food left over and didn't know what to do with it. I said load me up, let's give it to homeless people. I'll leave it in People's Park. They, not knowing much of Berkeley, asked me what People's Park was. People's Park is a park built by and for the people and lits of homeless people reside there and the non-homeless of Berkeley always drop off free food there. So, I went to People's Park carrying trays of food. The homeless people I walked by were talking to me, "Good Morning," "How are you," and other things of this sort. Someone asked if that was free food, and I said "YES! Free Food!" As soon as I set the food on the picnic table, I see this flock of socializing homeless people briskly making their way toward me. I smiled and left before I was trapped in a mob of homeless people. I felt bad that some of the food was soggy due to the rain falling on the bed of my truck where I stored the food on the drive back to Berkeley and People's Park. I was happy that at least the food got there right though. They seemed to appreciate it. Besides, you know what they say ... beggars can't be choosers!

Camping and Vacations

What is the point of camping, this mysterious ritual which leads millions of otherwise well-intending Americans into the "wilderness" to sleep outside, forsake personal hygiene, and embrace the destruction of marshmallows? Personally, I am not inclined to participate. I've spoken with a variety of other WMEGs who concur: camping gives them the creeps.

Why sleep outside? Did our parents come to this country, in many cases as refugees, for us to sleep on dirt? Of course, sleeping on the floor in a room full of anywhere between 6-9 siblings and/or cousins is acceptable. Family is important. Furthermore, what is so enticing about being dirty? We like getting dirty, but not literally, just figuratively (and preferably, sensually). And how could we go for so long without access to full-length mirrors?

Please don't mistake these feelings as disdain for the outdoors. Acceptable outdoor activities include playing football (real football); shopping in outdoor areas like farmer's markets, swap meets, or the overwhelmingly bland malls of Southern California; lying around in a park to drink, smoke, and make out; gardening (because you can't trust the herbs and vegetables from the supermarket); picnicking with 25 of your immediate family members. Our ancestors are laborers. We are people of the sun. But this is America, goddammit, and we're not sleeping outside!

Perhaps this fascination with camping can be attributed to the general attitude toward "vacation." What is vacation to a Middle Eastern family living in America? Allow me to introduce the options, and imagine your own parents' voices echoing through your memory:

1. Vacation? Is this a new word?
2. We are not going anywhere this summer, because you will spend it learning your multiplication tables all the way up to the 12s. I did it back home, and you're going to do it here. I don't care if you're 8 years old!
3. Vacation? We will pile into a van borrowed from your uncle Amir/Serouj/Kian and drive all over within a 300 mile radius visiting all the Arab/Armenian/Persian families we can schedule within a 5 day period.
4. Vacation? Oh, yes! We need to escape from your overbearing grandparents, so we'll book 2 nights at the dinkiest hotel honoring AAA discounts. And it's only 100 miles away, in case something happens. And something will happen - someone will fall ill or fake it - and we'll cut it short. Or we won't be able to handle the excessive phone calls making sure everyone's all right. And we'll cut it short.
5. Vacation, yes! We are going back home. For six weeks, in the heat of summer.

So...yeah. No room for sleeping outdoors there!

Call for Costume Help!

Readers dear - I am stumped. I need a costume for Bay to Breakers. It needs to be wearable enough so that I can run about 7.5 miles, and it needs to be gender-appropriate (ie no women's clothes). I'm open to wigs, closed to makeup, and would run as the Ayatollah if it wouldn't get me popped off by the NRA. Some possibilities include: Bevan Dufty (domesticated SF supervisor) pushing a fake baby stroller, a giant falafel, Aladdin. Please note I cannot run as Gavin Newsom, because I was the Gavinator for Halloween.

Leave your ideas here or write me at waywardmideasterngirls at gmail. Kisses!

Project Rami! FINALE

This week we saw the finale of Project Runway, season 4, and thus the end of our weekly television-based dose of one of our favorite wayward Middle Eastern boys, Rami Kashou...

We'll be brief. As you may know by now, Rami came in second this season, following the young and sassy Christian Siriano. There's a lot we could say about this situation: how Rami's collection was actually the most beautiful and diverse and didn't look like Shakespeare on crack, how a woman whose idea of a good accessory is grapefruits implanted under her skin is probably not the best choice for a guest judge, how Michael and Nina-- as experienced and talented as they are-- are still kind of boring, and, ultimately, how this is just television and probably had as much to do with months of producers' planning as it did with the actual designs and designers... but, you know. What we will say is that Christian was not a horrible one to win if Rami couldn't-- his designs have been consistently well-made and innovative, and he exudes potential, and already has a fashion-industry attitude-- and, frankly, seeing him a bit vulnerable and emotional at the end was actually rather nice. (We felt this way about Jeffrey Sebelia last season, too, which made it a little better that he won instead of our fave, Mychael Knight... except his final collection actually was better than Mychael's, but whatever.) Nevertheless, coming in second in a show full of lots of talent is nothing to scoff at, and Rami will still be getting plenty of publicity and attention and hopefully financial support, which is really all he'll need because he is amazingly talented and has already been very successful. And, bottom line, we are so proud that another ambitious young Palestinian man has transcended circumstance and done so well-- and will continue to. That's true reality right there.

We'd like to direct you to Project Runway's "Rate the Runway" page for this last episode, in which you can view, and rate, the looks from each final designer's collection, including Rami's, which was positively gorgeous. And here, you can watch Rami's (highly edited) exit interview, in which he exhibits a lot of poise, class, and graciousness. We'd especially like to ask all those who have been hating on him all season-- and we know there are a lot of you out there-- to watch, because you get a better idea of who Rami really is.

Bottom line, this is television. Even reality shows are not reality. We'll miss watching the show (and Rami) every week, but we also got plenty else to do. Like save the world! We hope you'll join us.

(P.S. Rami, if you ever decide to make anything in our size and price range, give us a call.)

xoxo,
WMEG

Project Rami! Week... um... semifinals

Rami! Rami! Rami! We can't express how excited we are for you right now! And very proud. You have withstood the lustful/envious gaze of Michael Kors, the overly critical gaze of Ninagaahceea (as Heidi calls her), and the, frankly, quite frightening gaze of Heidi Klum, all to make it to the pinnacle of the Project Runway Experience: Bryant Park! Bravo! (Ha, ha.)

Of course, we're not too surprised Rami made it, but we had our doubts for a little while-- namely, when he created yet ANOTHER, however immaculate and gorgeous, draped evening dress (right) for the final regular challenge, inspired by the artwork found in the Met. And really, when we saw him looking so intently at the Grecian statues in the classics room, we practically saw the show's producers licking their chops, and we wanted to scream at him not to take the bait. And he did, and the judges called him out for draping again, but it all worked out because they (very wisely) decided to give him AND Chris another chance. But, unlike last season, only one of them would progress to the finale-- after, of course, creating an entire collection and showing their best three looks to the judges. Sneaky, sneaky!

Cut past the rather uneventful reunion special to this week's episode, in which Tim Gunn visited each of the final four to check on their progress, as he does every season. Nutshell: Christian works out of a closet, essentially (no pun intended) and appears to have a rather lonely private life; Jillian still makes us feel tired and her entire family is more interesting than her; Rami's house is just as tasteful as his designs and his life story was, of course, heartbreaking (though we wish he would have mentioned Palestine...); and Chris remains wacky and fun and sweet and has friends who appear to be just the same (what was UP with that guy's apartment?). Focus now on Rami and Chris' designs: Rami's have been inspired by Joan of Arc and appear quite intriguing, except such oddities as a mustard-colored coat that Tim identified as very heavy, and Chris' heavily made use of-- yes-- human hair as trim. WTF? Suffice it to say, Tim was weirded out, and so were we. And although the designs he ended up showing the judges were actually quite nice, we couldn't get over the hair part (I don't think they could, either-- their expressions were priceless) and did, for the first time, agree that they were actually quite costumey. Thankfully, we won't have to hear the judges utter that word again, because poor Chris got auf'd in favor of our boy Rami, whose three looks didn't really offer too much to criticize save for the overdone-ness of the teal coat, which was still very well-made. See the three looks Rami offered up below:




















(Credit to this third one goes to ProjectRunGay, with our thanks, because Bravo's image of the dress really sucked. And, coincidentially, it was our favorite look out of the three.) Best of all, Rami LISTENED to the judges, and although we often suspect they've been smoking hashish, it really paid off this time.

We can't let Chris go, though, without saying how good of a job we think he did and how much we have really come to like him over the season-- even more so than his designs, which we never actually thought were as questionable as the judges seemed to. Chris has a bright future ahead of him, whether he chooses to spend it desgining costumes or clothing.

And so, we look forward to next week, in which we will get to watch the runway show (and Posh's grapefruit-like boobs popping out of whatever she wears-- best guest judge EVER), and find out who the winner will be. Truly, we think Rami has an excellent chance, based on what we've seen of the collections so far and on the fact that he is a true talent. Good luck, Rami!

Vay...

Dear readers (all three of you), we apologize for the dearth of posts lately. While this blog is extremely important to us, we have been crazy busy doing thousands of other things, including but not limited to working, dancing, drinking coffee/tea/vodka and plotting the revolution, reading, planning adventures in Middle Eastern travel, and studying (sort of). All while looking fab. So you see, this blog has fallen to the wayside a bit amidst the craziness-- we haven't even had time to watch Project Runway. Insane, we know. Good thing it was just the reunion (our guess: Heidi laughed like a crazy, Ricky cried as usual, Rami defended the draping, Christian was a droll bitch, and Jillian and VictorYA rolled their eyes a whole lot, while Tim Gunn was very tactful though silently wishing he could tap his ruby Prada slippers together and be transported back to his apartment with a cup of Constant Comment and the latest issue of the New Yorker). Anyway, no worries, because the wheels of thought have still been turning, and we should be posting again soon. We love you!

The Bush-Capades

I am finally posting my long-awaited review of the day in Palestine when ...

On Thursday, January 10th, 2008, George W.B., along with 1700 US Soldiers, took their 1st trip to the WB, the West Bank, Palestine, the place over 4 million refugees and expatriates, including myself, call home. Not only did Bush bring 1700 US personnel along, but all the employed Palestinian police, army, and security forces were on duty that day. It was like a national holiday. All shops in downtown Ramallah (Al Manara) were required to close. The forces roaming Ramallah were doing everything at all costs to stop opposition to the President we all hate, not just in Ramallah, but in all the West Bank.
Those living in the streets surrounding the Muqat'a, the Palestinian President's headquarters, were forbidden to leave their homes or even look out the window. They were warned that they would be shot at if they did so. All the nearby streets were closed. Oh, yes, and schools were closed as well for this ... day.
As I woke up late and began walking toward the center of town with my laptop bag, sans laptop, I was stopped by a jeep full of Palestinian army men. They asked if they could talk to me for a minute and then the man in the passenger seat got out and asked if I had anything in my bag. I said yes. (I don't normally carry big bags without anything in them, I was thinking.) He asked me what was in it. I said notebooks (telling the complete truth), want to see? I opened my bag, looked at him dumbfounded, and then he appologized and returned to his seat. I set off walking, a bit frazzled, as they drove away. (At this time I was unaware of the security measures I described above).
As I walked on, I realized, a bit slow on hte uptake as usual, that my big bag had suspect written all over it and that I could have possibly been plotting to kill Bush or something. I guess it's a good idea I didn't plot ahead of time, as much as it sounds like a great idea looking back. I've never been that close to Bush! I arrive uptown disappointed ...
Not only was there no protest, which I later found out the reason for, but the only people who were there silently holding up signs were foreigners. Obviously non-Palestinian, native speakers of English, German, etc., and they were holding up signs about peace, "Bush = Terrorist," and one that completely irritated me which said, "Our Freedom Is NOT For Sale." A great message, yes, I agree, but shouldn't that message be coming from Palestinians who actually own the land that should not be for sale and not foreign activists? I was PISSED! Where were the PALESTINIANS??
I later found out where they were. The Palestinian protesters were stopped before they could even start. Two of my friends were planning to just pump up hundreds of black balloons to release upon Bush's arrival around 11am, but they were stopped in the place that was pumping them up, were physically searched, and had their hawiyyas (or ID cards) taken; all this dome by Palestinian police. (How did they know where they would be pumping?? Talk about secret service ...) All of the protests throughout the West Bank were instantly smothered, Gaza being the only region to take a stand against Bush's visit. Could this be a divide and conquer tactic? I am uncertain, but now I will pose more questions for you to ponder.:

1. Why can foreigners speak on behalf of Palestinians, but Palestinians can't speak on behalf of Palestinians?
2. If the Palestinian President, or anyone in the world for that matter, came to DC to speak with the US President, would work close? School close? Would people be threatened of leaving their homes or looking out windows? Would protests be stifled? (Shu? Bafakruna klab? - What? They think we're dogs?)
3. Why does the US worship Israel when their government allowed and didn't stop protests against Bush's meetings with Palestine and Israel? Why were Israelis allowed to work and go to school?
4. Why did Bush go out of his way to pay a visit to the graves of Israelis but refused to visit Yaser Arafat's grave when he was only 15 meters away? (It was literally 15 meters, for I was in the headquarters with a Presidential guard member just days after his arrival where he showed me how everything happened.)
5. After Ramallah Bush went to Bethlehem. Actually, he went to the Church of the Nativity. When asked cordially but the Minister of Tourism on Palestine multiple times to walk around Bethlehem, take a look at the wall, and get a better feel for what Palestinians live like, he REFUSED! Not that I'm optimistic in any way, but how much can Bush help the Palestinian people if he doesn't even care to know their conditions?

Project Rami! Weeks 9 and 10

Hello, dear readers, and welcome again to Project Rami!

Various busy events in our lives, including the dispatch of our dear friend Hector Bouvier to al-Misr (that's Egypt for you gringos), and the return of our own lovely al-FallaHa from the homeland, have prohibited us from reporting recently on the adventures of our Rami. Nevertheless, we only have two weeks with which to update you, as last week aired, unfortunately, a repeat of the previous week's episode.

Now on to the previous new episode. The ladies and, uh, "ladies" were taken on a field trip, which had them shaking in their Prada shoes. Fortunately they were not taken to a garbage dump (as you may remember took place in a season long ago and far away-- last year) but to a warehouse full of Levi's jeans, in which they were instructed to grab as many denim items as possible in order to design an iconic yet fashion-forward look. Our clever boy ran around grabbing as many pairs of dark denim as possible, knowing it would help him convey the sophisticated look he loves. And it paid off! Rami's design (at right) was gorgeous, and certainly the one we'd most like to wear. And we'd rock it! (This is the royal we, of course, as our Prince of Kabob wouldn't be caught dead in anything resembling a skirt.) The zippered detail is gorgeous and unique (I'm surprised nobody else thought of that, but that's one reason why Rami is so good, I guess!) and the buttons give a very subtle pseudo-nautical touch that is light enough to remain classic. Also, the consistency in the color and texture makes it look classy and quite high-end. We think our boy should have won, but instead the judges picked... Ricky?! This wasn't completely out of left field as his strapless tube dress, with button detailing down the center and a generous ruffle at the bottom, was indeed very cute and could be considered iconic. But I don't know, as far as fashion goes, Rami's just stood out more. Though I do give Ricky props for nearly giving Christian an aneurysm with his surprise win! The auf went to Victorya, no surprise, for her embarrassment of a "coat" (really, I could sew some scraps of denim onto a jean jacket too, girl). We're gonna show it here on the left because it's really just too bad... needless to say, we're not too upset to break up the Sullen Sisters, though now Jillian has to frown and furrow her brow all alone...

Regarding this week's episode, we'd like to convey this message to Rami: draping is not for spandex, and draping is definitely not for wrestling! Yes, friends, wrestling. The challenge this week was to create a look for a professional female wrestler to wear in the ring based on her personal taste-- and, um, the fact that pro wrestling is incredibly tacky. Chris almost cried tears of joy, as to him, this was the next best thing to dressing a drag queen (which they initially suspected the challenge would be about). Our BFF Tim Gunn, meanwhile, good-naturedly called himself "grandpa" while attempting to climb into the ring in his impeccible suit. What a sweetie!

Poor Rami was a little frustrated with this challenge, as someone who is accustomed to designing high-end outfits and sophisticated eveningwear might be. And we really felt for him, and didn't mind his choice of hot pink spandex, either-- the girl looked like a Barbie doll, so what else would be more appropriate? But when we saw him starting to drape that fabric over the shoulder of the dress form, we wanted to scream-- and would have, if our mouths hadn't been full of brownie at the moment (oops). Rami, please! No more draping, at least until you get to do an evening look again. We don't want to see you go!

Fortunately, our boy did not go, as his look turned out all right after all (at right) and other designers appeared to fare even worse. Sweet P, although she dramatically rescued her outfit at the last minute, managed to create something more suited for the boudoir than the ring. And Ricky, last week's unexpected winner, decided to make a bathing suit for Jennifer Lopez. Granted, his model, Layla, worked it to no end (girl has a head of hair we envy!) but unfortunately, could not conceal the fact that it was, um, not a wrestling outfit. And so, poor Ricky, we say auf to you. Now your tears can flow freely and in peace! The winner for this week was Chris, we are glad to report. Each week makes us more fond of him, and it is only fitting that someone who designs outrageous looks for drag queens and stage shows should win this tacky challenge. Plus, who didn't love it when he said his ideal superhero would "crush men between her enormous breasts"? Oh Chris!

And with that, friends, we conclude this week's Project Rami, looking forward to another week with our boy who has remained in the game thanks to his talent and tact (and, we'd like to think, maybe a little of Michael Kors' drooling over his muscular physique). Next week looks like it should be a good one, too, so don't miss it!

xoxo,
WMEG

Thoughts regarding the Democratic primary...

Like many people, WMEG has been closely following the primary elections this year. Like anyone else, we are extremely concerned with the state of this country-- not to mention the world-- and we know that whoever is elected our next President will have a significant effect on what happens with Iraq, immigration, civil rights, and more. Obviously, we WMEGs are left-leaning ladies and ladysirs, and look to this season's Democratic primaries for our next presidential hopeful (since, unfortunately, any candidate from a more liberal party or-- gasp!-- no party affiliation at all, has no chance). Essentially, then, for us it has come down to two candidates, really-- Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama.

Now, perhaps we should let it be known that WMEG "endorses" Barack Obama in this election-- based on his political history, his ideas, and the change he stands for, which really should be the reason anyone votes for whoever they do. But regardless of our choice-- which isn't really what this post is about anyway-- we are truly excited that the candidates to choose from are a woman and a person of color, and not the same old white men we have had to put up with every four years since Native Americans were the number one target of choice for their oppression (not that much has changed since then except expansion of their range). But, of course, we can't have this kind of election without the fact that the candidates will be thought of as representatives of these particular groups-- women and black people/people of color-- rather than as individuals who should be regarded as such. I do recognize that it is natural for this to occur, since this lineup is the first of its kind (sadly), and as with other new and unfamiliar things, people are quick to stereotype and compartmentalize. Also, it is very cool (and about time) that the two top contenders for a major party's nomination are a woman and a black man, and in some ways it should be recognized and celebrated. But really, we can't realistically think about this situation without considering the inherent discrimination involved.

This election has made me wonder if many will vote based on who they have fewer qualms about-- or against whom they discriminate less. Can they better stand the idea of a woman in charge of the United States, or a black man? Both would inherently challenge the status quo, at least representationally, and aesthetically. No doubt that the perspective of a non-white/non-man would be at least a little different than that of a white man-- unless you are Condoleezza Rice, and therefore insane. Of course, many people welcome this change in perspective, and truly will vote based on the candidates' ideas and past actions. But I do feel there is this pervading sense of identity politics that is more or less present but not addressed (not that it would be, since this would mean treading into some mighty deep and murky waters). Though I have reasons for not making Hillary Clinton my choice, her being a woman doesn't have much to do with it. When people talk smack about her for crying, I get really frustrated because they act like it's because she's a woman and therefore prone to insane emotional fluctuations, which means she can't be President because she's a human being and not a robot, as candidates are apparently expected to be. I personally think this means she is just more likely to act with compassion, which is something that we desperately need. And when people act skeptical of Barack Obama because they say he is "inexperienced," I can't help but think that they actually mean "black." Maybe they think he can't be taken seriously because they don't see many black people in politics; it's outside their realm of thinking. He doesn't fit the stereotype they have-- he's successful, but not a hip-hop artist or basketball player, so maybe this confuses them. Nobody would admit these things, but they exist. They're inherent. Different is uncomfortable to many people. But at this time in our history, different is exactly what we need. I just hope this means people vote with their heads and their hearts, and not with their eyes-- or their blindness.

Electioneering

On Super Bowl Sunday, John McCain's campaign called my parents' house repeatedly. My parents live in Ventura County, CA. Via his enthusiastic recorded message, Senator McCreepy stated:

- the borders are broken, and we can fix them (if we elect him, of course)
- he can protect America from radical Islamic terrorism

Well, Senator, who is going to protect you from Mama Jan? Hm? 2008's primary will be her first American voting experience ever, following her semi-recent citizenship. And she's been running a one-woman campaign show for Barack Hussein Obama. Her main canvassing areas include Macy's and the Warner Center mini-shopping mall in Woodland Hills, CA, during her lunch breaks. Together, and with the help of all liberals everywhere, they are going to enlist all your illegal alien Arizona border babies into a Wahhabi madrasa and train them to bomb suburbia. You are so royally fucked.

By the way, you need to spend your campaign advertisement dollars better; my parents are registered without party affiliation. In California, home of your best friend Arnie the Barbarian, your beloved Republican party decided to hold a closed primary. So all the decline-to-state unaffiliated people are going to vote in the Democratic primary. Not yours. So, please cease and desist your little telephone jihad. Thanks!

Al-FallaHa

Ok, so I picked my alias, my blogger name, after long term contemplations. I will now be referred to as Al-FallaHa. One of my dearest friends from the Holy Land constantly refers to me as Al-FallaHa and addresses me as "Ya FallaHa" as we speak to each other of the qari'a (village) while fully emphasizing every "chaa" instead of "kaaf" and every "kaaf" instead of the medani hamza (or dropping of the "qaaf" sound all together). I am thoroughly cconvinced that this name is the most fitting as I recall stories of the blad (not blaaaaaad, dear cousin) where my family would work in the fields and spend cold winters in a stone hut, the stone hut Sedi, my grandfather, was born in, as they produced the best tasting olives and olive oil in all the world. Bianco Jan (prince of kabob), I know you're not fond of olives, but I know you will appreciate the roots in which my name is derived because the only other fitting name for me would be Al-Nawariyya, which has been assumed, and rightfully so, by my notorious, curl-rocking cousin. So I hope WMEG will accept Al-FallaHa as a frequenting blogger on their mission to take over the world!

Local Food Biz Alert

The Fresh Choice in Colma serves tabouleh! It's not terrible, either; it did not drive me into the neighboring BevMo in search of something tastier with which to wash it down. It could use way more lemon juice, and some more mint, but overall, I was pleasantly surprised. Kudos, Fresh Choice! Now, reinstate your AAA discount. 10% is nothing to sneeze at, and we immigrants/first generation Americans are proud to be cheap bastards. We also like to pretend that we eat healthy at a salad bar when all we do is eat 47 pieces of bread and pizza, and also say things like, "I'm going to pass on the brownie for dessert," then slop about 1.5 lbs of hot fudge and rainbow sprinkles all over the "healthy" frozen yogurt dessert...

"Fear lulls our minds to sleep"

WMEG went to see Persepolis last week. We loved it! If for some strange reason you have yet to see this film, do yourself a favor, and get your butt in the theatre.

While the film is almost exclusively in black-and-white, you won't even notice. Satrapi's narrative infuses the film with all the color and vibrancy necessary. It's accessible enough to a wide range of audiences so that just about everybody can derive the right mix of laughter, knowledge, and analysis from the story (and is that not the point of film itself?). Fun fact side facts: Anoush (Marjane's radical uncle) is an Armenian name. And with that not-entirely-vital bit of Armenian pride, we have now officially become either our Armenia-radical grandmother or the father in My Big Fat Greek Wedding. Everything is Armenian (or Greek, or Arab, or whatever you like). Just look harder. And put some Windex. Anyway!

Even though WMEG saw this film at San Francisco's Embarcadero Landmark Theatre, allegedly a prime choice for educated city folk (read: white liberal people who donate to Greenpeace and HRC), we could still discern faint head-scratching among our fellow theatre-goers. The mental wheel-turning surfaced: "Oh! Those Iranians didn't all like the shah?" "The British tried to meddle in Iran? And the Iranians didn't like that either?" "There were communists in Iran?!" "People in Iran listen to Iron Maiden and do aerobics?!!!!" Hah! We hope that this film reaches as many people as possible in the "West." It is exactly this type of humanizing, via a fairly universal and popular medium, which can derail Orientalism.

Project Rami! Week 8

Welcome to this week's installment of Project Rami, in which we analyze the latest episode of Project Runway with a focus on Rami Kashou, hunky and talented Palestinian designer with a fondness for draping...

Rami, Rami, Rami. What can we say? He's a great designer, but we fear he may have a bit of the Midde Eastern Male Syndrome. Now, here's a disclaimer: we love many of our Middle Eastern brothers, and fathers and grandfathers and cousins and uncles and other numerous relatives and friends, but our experience in this area-- and we have a lot-- backs us up on the following claim. Have you, fellow wayward Middle Easterners, ever been in a situation in which you are a part of a household which has been invited somewhere, and there is a male family member involved-- particularly, at the helm? Well, then you are familiar with this syndrome, in which the male figure begins exclaiming about thirty minutes before it is actually necessary to leave the house, "Yalla , we're going to be late!" Now, some of us WMEGs of the lady-gendered variety have many things to do before presenting ourselves to others (and especially to other Middle Easterners), including hairstyle, impeccible outfitting, perfect eyeliner, and removal of all excess body hair. As you know, this takes time-- you may know it as being on Arab/Persian/Armenian/etc. Time. Thus, it is never possible to leave for an event any earlier than ten minutes after the scheduled time of departure -- all the while being verbally hassled by the aforementioned male(s) regarding tardiness, leading to his eventual exasperation and decision to wait in the car while muttering to himself and anyone within earshot, listening to Abdel Halim on full blast, and frantically manipulating his worry beads. That, my friends, is a symptom of Middle Eastern Male Syndrome, and while it is generally harmless (as many of our lovely men are), it is there. Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about!

Anyway, we're thinking that perhaps Rami showed a little of that this week. The challenge: work in teams of two to create an avant-garde look based on the model's hairstyle (and later, to create a ready-to-wear look that echoes the previous in sensibility). Now, we know working in teams can be the kiss of death even for the most talented on this show, and while Rami runs circles around Sweet P as a designer (though we have been known to be fond of her, with the tattoos and the biker past and the baffling name), we thought perhaps he was a bit heavy-handed with the leadership. His ideas were great, as always, but we couldn't help but think that, hey, some of Sweet P's were good too: we personally LOVED the bustle idea! There are never enough bustles on the runway! That would have made for something a little more edgy. And the ready-to-wear dress she made (below) was really quite lovely. Perhaps if Rami sat down, listened to some Fairuz, and played with his worry beads, he would have seen the situation with a little more clarity and realized that, even though she is a crazy ol' white lady (and we say this fondly), maybe she just needed to do things on Crazy Ol' White Lady Time, and things would have been cool. Like when your carful of family members gets to your host's house and you realize you aren't really that late because there is ALWAYS some other family who suffers even worse from time issues and gets there like two hours late. You know?

Well in this week's challenge that was Kit and Ricky. We'll be damned if Ricky isn't the luckiest hambal on this show. We're not sure how he ends up surviving each week, with the crying and complaining and the not-very-interesting designs, but he does. He's like a cockroach! Anyway, we were very sad to see Kit go, because she has consistently been our next favorite after Rami, and she's done some beautiful stuff. We would have loved to see her compete in the finale. Unfortunately this week's design was not one of her best pieces, though the idea sounded really cool. The winning Team Fierce-- Chris and Christian-- totally deserved it, if nothing but for the total outrageousness of the piece, and the ready-to-wear was very cute. Although that coat made by the Sullen Sisters (Victorya and Jillian) was, admittedly, quite ferocious... check it all out for yourselves here.

Oh, Rami. We are very, very glad you didn't leave this week, because it would have been completely unfair, and we know you have a whole lot of gorgeousness in store for us-- a look at your website promises that. But maybe a little compromise isn't always so bad, aiwa? At least next time, consider the bustle! And, um, less draping. We love you, bro.

Peace out, readers. xo

the bread of life

As I ate my proper breakfast of barbari with too-strong coffee this morning, I reflected upon a time last year involving a clueless WASP-y cyclist and me.

On a lovely warm Saturday afternoon, I visited Parkside Farmer's Market on Taraval Street. I purchased my usual items: pastries, yogurt, bread, nuts, veggies, and the like. I parked my car on Page and Scott, near my former residence in the Lower Haight. As I gathered my groceries from my backseat, a bicyclist braked and stopped near me.

"Hi!" friendly white male bicyclist says.

"Uh, hi," I suspiciously respond. My hands are full of groceries. Too full, because I would rather limp down 2 blocks carrying more than I should than make another trip to my car. What does this man intend to do? Steal my food? Give me religious material? I'm hungry and want to run inside my house for a snack, not talk to strangers.

"I was just wondering where you got that giant focaccia bread," he says.

"Focaccia?!" I spit back. I am not carrying focaccia.

Then I realize what he means. This man thinks my barbari is focaccia!

For inexplicable reasons, I do not fold my barbari in half while in the store, like most people do, and I squeal with audible distress if the grocery clerk attempts to do so. I was carrying 3 plastic bags in my right hand and dangling my precious barbari, long and unfolded and glorious and uncracked in its natural state, in my left. I must hold it high in the air, as it is nearly as tall as my shoulder (which is admittedly not very tall). And that's what caught his attention as he barreled down the bike path on Page.

I struggle to come up with a response. Inside, I practice, "Asshat. This is not focaccia. This is nan-e barbari, bread of kings and queens, breakfast of my people for thousands of years! The true breakfast of champions! Recant, lest I smite you!"

Of course, I am a discreetly socialized woman, regardless of how many times I am mistakenly referred to as "sir." So I stammer, annoyed: "This is not focaccia. This is barbari. It's Iranian bread."

"Oh! Cool! Eye-ranian bread!" he replies. He's interested in more information. Great. "Where did you get it from?"

I kill him with my bulging almond eyes. Does he think I flew it into the US, on a stealth mission? Or better yet, that it's available on some secret shelf at Safeway? Maybe in the "Oriental" foods aisle next to the "Hispanic condiments" section? I'll show him. Politely. "From Parkside Farmer's Market, nowhere near here. It's very dangerous to bike there from here, and I don't recommend it."

"Thank you! That's very helpful! Have a nice day!" He yells this to my swiftly-turned back. I do not turn back around to see him put his yuppie biking safety gear back on and continue his journey.

I wonder if he wound up going to Parkside and inquired about the focaccia-like bread.

Occupation!

Well, well, our dear President's postcolonial vocabulary is recently expanded! Or, shall we say, his speech writer's vocabulary has expanded. (Quotations taken from the BBC.)

"There should be an end to the occupation that began in 1967," Mr Bush told reporters.

"Now is the time to make difficult choices..The agreement must establish a Palestine as a homeland for the Palestinian people just as Israel is a homeland for the Jewish people."

Holy hell! Vay mama jan! Yamma! The world leader against terr-ah actually knows how to pronounce "occupation?" And, as some other quotations imply, does this mean a return to pre-1967 borders? Is our dear Edward Said (we don't often invoke God, but God bless his soul) having a mini-revolt 'n' party in Heaven? Is Orientalism finally turned on its head?

Why is this happening, anyway? Has the Bush regime somehow deduced that an increased support of Palestine will somehow translate into "success" in Iraq?

For additional reference, check out this picture, courtesy of MSNBC. Dare we say: does America stand with Palestine? What other conclusion can we draw from this display of our great patriotism (aka our butt-ugly flag) aligned with the same display (albeit NOT butt-ugly) from Palestine? Please discuss in the comments, if you like.


WMEG has a member in Ramallah conducting some research for her UC Berkeley undergraduate thesis. We'll be able to include more from-the-homeland reactions and feedback in the next few weeks. For now, color us cautiously optimistic. These statements do not reveal a sudden abandonment of America's fetishism of Zionism. But could these public statements - from the leader of the most vocal supporter of Zionism - possibly lead to action? Let's see!

Project Rami! Weeks 6 and 7

This is a little late in the game, we know-- but we ARE on Middle Eastern time, after all...

Welcome to Project Rami, a weekly feature in which we discuss every wayward Middle Eastern girl's favorite Project Runway designer and Pali boy wonder, Rami Kashou.

Aside from being gorgeous, amicable, and an incredibly talented designer (he's done red carpet fashions, y'all), Rami openly discusses being Palestinian and from Ramallah/Jerusalem, stating "Ramallah, Palestine" as his hometown on his MySpace page. We love how he proudly represents. Plus, he apparently got his start designing for his mom and the other ultra-fashionable ladies of Ramallah-- that's how it do! Check out Bravo's profile of Rami here and his website here.

On to recent events in Project Runway-land... last week, Rami won the judges (and us) over with his flashy-fab future-forward response to the challenge of making an outfit out of items found at the giant Hershey's store (yes, candy) in Times Square. While we initially were really skeptical of the challenge, the designers came out with some cute, fun, and inspiring looks, led by our boy who won the challenge (and immunity for this week) with the sweetness seen at left.

This week Rami didn't fare as well by the judges' often boring and arbitrary standards. The challenge: to create a prom dress for a New Jersey teenager. While there weren't any Aqua-Netted 'do's and three-inch acrylic nails in sight like we'd hoped (really), the contestants came up with some pretty good stuff. While Rami's drapey green modern-goddess dress (seen at right) didn't wow the judges (and actually had him placed among their least favorites), we thought it was glam and unique while still being totally appropriate. We did kinda wish it were a more vibrant green, though, and with a shorter skirt, only because his client is young and fun and can totally get away with it. But we're not complaining! Rami is still our number one. In other news, Sweet P totally should have kicked Victorya's ass (her dress did, at least), and Kit really should have won the entire challenge, but that's another story...

Check back next week for the next installment of Project Rami!