Noura’s Eid Post

I want to dedicate this post to Noura. At first I did not want to write “yet another Eid post”, but we all love and support Noura and let’s face it, long distance sucks! So below is a long and detailed account of everything I ate during my stay in Damascus.

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I went to Damascus with really one thing in mind: to eat. I missed food. I didn’t care wether or not the food was healthy. It is home made food, with love from my grandma and mom. Except for shawerma of course, but it’s shawermaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

My grandma 7ayati spends most of the day cooking one meal. She goes into the kitchen at around 10 AM and we don’t get to it till 4:30 PM. But trust me when I say it’s the best dish you’d eat in your life! So for the first day I was treated to “shei5 el me7shi” (شيخ المحشي) which I was told was called “ma5shi” (مخشي) by Palestinians (correct me if I am wrong). For dinner we had whatever was in the house – cheese, eggs, shankleesh, and whatever smells weird and has been in the cupboard since last year.

The next day we were invited for breakfast at mom’s friend’s house. Too bad I was fasting because I missed out on “fatteh”. If you know me, this is without a doubt the most sacred meal to me. So not eating fatteh would hopefully be accepted as a sacrifice. But of course, if it were only fatteh. No no. They had to have everything that makes you fart for ages – fool mdammas, fool blaban, makdoos, some weird thing I tried to avoid and could swear was moving, and of course tabbouleh, fattoush o debes and that horrible creation called mtabbal.

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But I didn’t eat any of that. I busied myself by taking photos of the food.

Then I told mom to replicate that breakfast for iftar. I couldn’t say which tasted better since I didn’t have a reference, but eating fatteh (which I only eat in Damascus) made me a very happy man.

The next day my dad decided we would eat breakfast outside, much to my resentment. So that meal was totally forgettable and I do not wish to discuss it further. As an apology, my dad took me and sis to the Old City, where I usually spend my time in summers anyway.

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I love the Old City. It’s simply a brilliant spot of land. You could literally hear the walls and cobblestones talking to you. Though it was a bit quiet with most stores closed for Eid, بياعين الفستق remained open and I was obliged to take samples until I decided on the best, and I let my sister handle the price negotiations. No one says no to nice sweet girls, and ياما تحت السواهي دواهي (if this is the last post you read from me, I love you all).

At night we walked arround the Qassa3 area, one of the most beautiful spots in Damascus and a festive place. As a Christian community, everyone decorates their homes – interior and exterior – with a wonderful display of lights to celebrate Christmas and New Year. When I was there only a few were up, but I am sure by now everyone there is in FalalalalaLand.

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Then I had to invite Qabbani, who was in town, for breakfast. Actually he invited himself but then I invited him after his invitations to feel that I have a word in this LOL! So he came over and he had to eat from MY fatteh el 7aywan, bas mashi bmoon. So for revenge I had mom force him to eat lots of ma3mool and weird Arabic sweets which names I cannot be bothered to remember. They all taste the same to me – mushy sugar and nuts down my esophagus.

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Then came the big meal.

Kibbeh.

وما ادراك ما الكبة 

There is absolutely nothing more wonderful than have the whole family eating kibbeh next to the صوبية. And a pot of tea slowly being brewed on it and socks  hanging around so they can dry before we wear them to bed.

But it wasn’t tea, it seemed. It was ميرامية. I craved some مته right then but I’m the only one in the family with that acquired taste. So since mom doesn’t approve, it stays out. *sniffles*

I stuffed my suitcase with whatever food I could carry – roughly 6 kilos of food. I consumed half of them within a couple of days in Dubai and saved the rest for a rainy day.

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Genetically Reversed XD

Yes I lost weight again.

AAAAAAAAARGH

When Hamza came in April I was a zombie (as you’ve all seen). Since then I’ve been exercising and eating properly (all natural food) and I gained 9.5 kilos w00t!

But before my Lasik in a week I stopped exercising and until now I haven’t exercised… and I lost 2.5 kilos even though I have Iftar + dinner + su7oor.

So it looks like my body is Genetically Reversed – if I exercise, I gain weight, if I don’t, I lose weight!

Something wrong happened here… my parents should have read the Arabic or English manual. Damn foreign hotels!

So ultimately I share the main problem all humans do – we have to move our butts to reach our target weights LOL!

See… the world is fair :P

And When Mom Arrived…

“Mom!” I gasp in a mixture of all possible human emotions known to man. She stands there looking hotter than Angelina Jolie. “Wooow you sure look hot tonight!”

“Oh Kinan darling, you little rascal you,” she eyes me naughtily as she enters the newly cleaned apartment. She instantly stops to stare at the empty pizza box on the dining table.

“I…I just had dinner mom,” I choke through the words as I remove the offensive box from her sight. She always gave me lectures on –

“How many times have I told you not to eat junk food? It is so unhealthy! You saw what happened to Flan. He has more cholesterol than red body cells.”

“Blood cells,” I correct.

“Whatever they are called!”

“Mom I was starving because I was working for six hours on my projects and – ”

SIX STRAIGHT HOURS!” she gasps, her hands on her chest. “Honey you are not a machine! You need to rest! You need to – ”

“Get my projects done mom. They are due next Monday,” I say as I sit down helplessly on the couch.

“Well, I will go get something to drink,” she says. Before I can take in the information and stop her from entering the horrendous kitchen – “EEEEEK! Kinan A. Jarjous, how can you explain this? Where are your manners?! Is this what we taught you to do at home?” she points at the heap of laundry on the floor I forgot to put in earlier today.

“Mom please, don’t start…” I beg her.

“I am going to leave a note for your cleaning lady,” she says, pen and paper already out. She doesn’t know I have no cleaning lady. I give up and go back to the living room. Mom follows suit in a few minutes and sits next to me. I put my arm around her and kiss her forehead, trying to muffle down the reasons she came here for.

“So how is my dad?” I ask, trying to let her lose tracks of her own thoughts.

“He is ok,” she says smiling.  “Well, I came here to talk about your future.”

What? How you are going to be a part of every little thing in my life? Get married on my behalf?

“Oh,” is all I offer.

“Well, you see, I don’t like the way things are shaping up dear. You are going through something at your work – ” God mom it’s just ranting! “ – your car is not spotless – ” it’s MY car and it’s MY rule that it is OCD-Unfriendly “ – and you have very odd friends – ” damn you Moogle “ – and I cannot believe you still don’t have a girlfriend! People your age are already fathers!” She puts her fingertips on her necklace, as if she is emphasizing her need to have grandchildren.

So I guess you know what the next post is about: Avoiding Bride Shopping, Round 2!!!!