Super.Full. played at AsterFest in Macedonia yesterday. Here is the trailer of the festival which has an excellent line up of films from various countries all over the world.
AsterFest Official Website
Showing posts with label Qatar. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Qatar. Show all posts
Saturday, May 26, 2012
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Broken Sentences - 2
Tuesday, July 14, 2009 at 2:43am
Sometimes I run out of stuff to waste time on, so I decide to check the NEWS. Believe it or not. And today I discovered (I hope I figured that out right) that Lebanon still does not have a government. The parliamentary election results were announced on Monday, June 8th, 2009. That is more than one month ago.
FUN FACT: On the right side of my laptop screen an ad says: "Where to Pee in NYC".
Yesterday is everything that happened before I wake up tomorrow.
Yesterday, I was a little girl in Beirut with a very good handwriting. Teta once picked me from the balcony to keep me away from the glass during the bombing. As much as she would never remember a tiny detail like that; as much the more I will. 1986.
And yesterday, I was waiting to register for the first time in the long corridor of the Fine Arts bldg in LAU. I wrote my name down on a yellow paper hung on the door of Hala's office. There were few names before mine. One must have been for sure the name of Rouba Korfali. 1997.
Yesterday, I found myself living in a huge house alone in Qatar, acting like a movie star, trying to find myself somewhere in the hundreds of DVDs or hiding inside a guitar. 2005.
Yesterday I was here in Hollins, stepping on American soil for the first time, waiting to find out what is America. 2008.
I'm almost a year away from getting what I always wanted. A screenwriting degree. A dream will come true. THIS is America. Dreams can come true when you plan.
FUN FACT#2: I already know that I will be RANDOMLY selected for the special security check at Dulles Airport when am leaving USA on August 1st. THIS is also America.
This is not a blog entry. This is a Classified Ad. If you found HOME please post the directions.
No bullshit please. Home is not where the heart is.
Hearts have been upgraded to Credit Card colors.
Last I checked, home was where the money was.
RIDDLE: Now the money is gone. Where is home?
Sometimes I run out of stuff to waste time on, so I decide to check the NEWS. Believe it or not. And today I discovered (I hope I figured that out right) that Lebanon still does not have a government. The parliamentary election results were announced on Monday, June 8th, 2009. That is more than one month ago.
FUN FACT: On the right side of my laptop screen an ad says: "Where to Pee in NYC".
Yesterday is everything that happened before I wake up tomorrow.
Yesterday, I was a little girl in Beirut with a very good handwriting. Teta once picked me from the balcony to keep me away from the glass during the bombing. As much as she would never remember a tiny detail like that; as much the more I will. 1986.
And yesterday, I was waiting to register for the first time in the long corridor of the Fine Arts bldg in LAU. I wrote my name down on a yellow paper hung on the door of Hala's office. There were few names before mine. One must have been for sure the name of Rouba Korfali. 1997.
Yesterday, I found myself living in a huge house alone in Qatar, acting like a movie star, trying to find myself somewhere in the hundreds of DVDs or hiding inside a guitar. 2005.
Yesterday I was here in Hollins, stepping on American soil for the first time, waiting to find out what is America. 2008.
I'm almost a year away from getting what I always wanted. A screenwriting degree. A dream will come true. THIS is America. Dreams can come true when you plan.
FUN FACT#2: I already know that I will be RANDOMLY selected for the special security check at Dulles Airport when am leaving USA on August 1st. THIS is also America.
This is not a blog entry. This is a Classified Ad. If you found HOME please post the directions.
No bullshit please. Home is not where the heart is.
Hearts have been upgraded to Credit Card colors.
Last I checked, home was where the money was.
RIDDLE: Now the money is gone. Where is home?
Friday, January 05, 2007
A Qatari Souq Tale...
So Mum and MJ were visiting in Qatar. And we decided to go to the souq on the evening of Monday the 1st of January 2007.
Souq Waqef has lots of shops, old style shops. And amongst these are the shops that sell spices such as the one in the picture below with Mommy and MJ.
So Mum and MJ were visiting in Qatar. And we decided to go to the souq on the evening of Monday the 1st of January 2007.
Souq Waqef has lots of shops, old style shops. And amongst these are the shops that sell spices such as the one in the picture below with Mommy and MJ.
And while mom and the shopkeeper chat about all the things in this shop, MJ and Niam get bored. So MJ gets the SMINT out of his pocket and offers Niam one, and takes one himself. Mom and the shopkeeper are discussing the price of things. Niam and MJ are bored.
Until.... until the SMINT pops out from MJ's mouth and drops just in the middle of the big bag of thyme near him. And down down down went the SMINT, and down down down went MJ's eyes behind it trying to follow where will it end. But the SMINT went too fast for his eyes it seems and disappeared in the big bag.
This was going on without anybody noticing of course. The only thing I saw was this:
MJ digging his face in the thyme bag.
"MJ, what the hell are you doing in this bag?"
He was too busy to talk. Laughing so hard. But said enough to make me understand that his SMINT went inside the bag. No kidding! I threw a hopeless look inside the bag and knew it is impossible now to find this SMINT. We had to tell mommy. ___________________________________________________
* The SMINT story ended safely. We told mom, who told the shopkeeper, who forgave us for -maybe- he did not understand what was going on altogether. Just saw one big crazy kid and one small crazy kid laughing at a big thyme bag.
Saturday, July 29, 2006
Sunday July 16th 2006
That was the worst Sunday I ever spent in the village. In the afternoon we discussed my return to Qatar. I agreed to leave on Thursday before things got worse. I had nothing of my stuff with me in the village except my passport and ticket. They were the only necessary things I needed of course, but they were not my stuff. I remembered the graduation pictures. And my footage tape for the documentary. And my tennis. My DVDs. And I have not seen my friends. Shadi had said he would visit yesterday because he was going to Baalbek to watch Fairouz. Of course the musical was cancelled, and the whole festival. Baalbek itself was almost cancelled. It was being bombed daily.
Nothing to do. When you have nothing to do you start thinking of strange things, and remembering things you would have never remembered otherwise. It was strangely pleasant in a way to have nothing to do but think about existence and life. At one point I thought that I would be able to write few scenes in the screenplay am writing, since they say suffering brings creativity. But I could not. I was living in a film and was not able to write in a different timeline. If what happened in Lebanon was a film it would have certainly been a sci-fi horror fictitious stupid comedy.
Once there was a country called Lebanon. The second day it was not. Somehow it has been erased in one day. The people, the buildings, the bridges, the roads, the airports, the sea ports, they all disappeared overnight.
The minister of tourism said we were expecting more than one million tourists in August. Lebanon is a country that depends on tourism to survive. But some people thought it was not necessary for us to survive. They were people who get mad when animals are beaten but could not care less if Arabs died. I had all the time to remember. In our Media and Society class Dima –my teacher- once said something about degrading people before going to war and killing them. Because you cannot kill people when they are people like you. You have to make them look like animals or even worse so that nobody would pity them. And in my desperate trials to grasp how could any human being ever think of us as being less than animals I thought:
Well, probably they think of us as people but think of themselves as Gods.
It was of course better than thinking of us as animals and them as people. There was only God to save us. There is only God to save us. And punish those who think they are owners of the world.
That was the worst Sunday I ever spent in the village. In the afternoon we discussed my return to Qatar. I agreed to leave on Thursday before things got worse. I had nothing of my stuff with me in the village except my passport and ticket. They were the only necessary things I needed of course, but they were not my stuff. I remembered the graduation pictures. And my footage tape for the documentary. And my tennis. My DVDs. And I have not seen my friends. Shadi had said he would visit yesterday because he was going to Baalbek to watch Fairouz. Of course the musical was cancelled, and the whole festival. Baalbek itself was almost cancelled. It was being bombed daily.
Nothing to do. When you have nothing to do you start thinking of strange things, and remembering things you would have never remembered otherwise. It was strangely pleasant in a way to have nothing to do but think about existence and life. At one point I thought that I would be able to write few scenes in the screenplay am writing, since they say suffering brings creativity. But I could not. I was living in a film and was not able to write in a different timeline. If what happened in Lebanon was a film it would have certainly been a sci-fi horror fictitious stupid comedy.
Once there was a country called Lebanon. The second day it was not. Somehow it has been erased in one day. The people, the buildings, the bridges, the roads, the airports, the sea ports, they all disappeared overnight.
The minister of tourism said we were expecting more than one million tourists in August. Lebanon is a country that depends on tourism to survive. But some people thought it was not necessary for us to survive. They were people who get mad when animals are beaten but could not care less if Arabs died. I had all the time to remember. In our Media and Society class Dima –my teacher- once said something about degrading people before going to war and killing them. Because you cannot kill people when they are people like you. You have to make them look like animals or even worse so that nobody would pity them. And in my desperate trials to grasp how could any human being ever think of us as being less than animals I thought:
Well, probably they think of us as people but think of themselves as Gods.
It was of course better than thinking of us as animals and them as people. There was only God to save us. There is only God to save us. And punish those who think they are owners of the world.
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