It was in January when my mother asked me to go to the supermarket and buy her shampoo.
I was thirteen.
I put on my shoes and went on my way.
I walked through the alleys of the neighborhood taking every shortcut I could find so that I could buy my mother the damn Shampoo and be able [...]
She was my best childhood friend.
Our mothers were both immigrants in the city where we grew up.
My mum read in her mother’s story a generational myth of revolution and exile.
Her mum found in mine a true interest in who she was rather than what she looked like.
1968 was a milestone in their shared memories.
She was [...]
اتطلعوا بالمراية، اتطلعوا جوات عيونكن…جواتهن كتير. شو بتشوفوا؟
اتطلعي بالمراية.
بتشوفي طفولة حلوة أو بشعة؟ بتشوفي حالك عم تلعبي “عريس وعروس” أو “بيت بيوت” وتتحججي بهاللعبة تا تمسكي ايد ابن الجيران؟ أنا كنت اتحجج فيها تا امسك ايد بنت الجيران … بس أكيد أنا وانت منعرف شو كان الاحساس حلو، لو بطريقة مختلفة.
 |  |  |  |  |  | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
