tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57309338407322642302024-03-14T00:20:38.941+02:00Dusty Wyndow BlogA total mess inside an anonymous artist's soulNatheer H.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15729982354247534337noreply@blogger.comBlogger158125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5730933840732264230.post-43570385236726246212018-04-24T18:47:00.002+03:002018-04-24T22:51:51.853+03:00Roadmap to a National Cycling Day<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Here's why tomorrow, April 25th, is a big day in the history of Lebanon. For decades we had been accustomed to riding cars, whether for leisure or for work; that same car had been going hand in hand with social status: you have no car, you then belong to the poor. Owning a high end car, on the other hand, meant you're doing well, and thus earn society's respect in some way.<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hoVteCudvKg/Wt9OpBjCpOI/AAAAAAAALIA/TwFOXTYSbWEZbDcx5vKGeQqK6YvpbMEdQCLcBGAs/s1600/29598354_2068845226664567_1562866686248802317_n.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="465" data-original-width="852" height="348" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hoVteCudvKg/Wt9OpBjCpOI/AAAAAAAALIA/TwFOXTYSbWEZbDcx5vKGeQqK6YvpbMEdQCLcBGAs/s640/29598354_2068845226664567_1562866686248802317_n.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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Fast forward to last year where two girls, with the help of friends, had started what we know today as the BikeToWork day, years after being infatuated with the charm of the four-wheelers, as in to try and encourage an entire nation to go back to the days the majority had no cars. How did they get around? How were delivery boys getting by? How did my grandfather and yours go to work at their younger years? It's that mesmerizing slinky beast we all call the bicycle.<br />
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I mean, it's often cheap, doesn't really cost any maintenance really, doesn't break down easily, doesn't take up much space and the best of all? you even get to exercise! This is exactly what Zeina and Nadida, founders of <a href="https://www.facebook.com/TheChainEffect/" target="_blank">The Chain Effect</a> the NGO that initiated the BikeToWork day, had so eloquently demonstrated in their recent promotional ad, that I personally think (now that I run a digital production agency) is one of the best Lebanese advertisements I've seen in a while. The ad portrays the 5 things you won't have to worry about when cycling, and trust me, the ad is genuinely hilarious and equally serious.<br />
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<iframe allow="encrypted-media" allowfullscreen="true" allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="403" scrolling="no" src="https://www.facebook.com/plugins/video.php?href=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.facebook.com%2FTheChainEffect%2Fvideos%2F2071778859704537%2F&width=720&show_text=false&appId=468612130202341&height=403" style="border: none; overflow: hidden;" width="720"></iframe><br />
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I very much would like to take a moment here to praise the work of The Chain Effect, a team whose effort I highly admire, that and the acting skills Nadida and Ahmad have exhibited :) The Chain Effect had been active in the country for quite some time now, more precisely since 2014. More from their <a href="https://www.facebook.com/pg/TheChainEffect/" target="_blank">Facebook page</a>:<br />
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The Chain Effect promotes and facilitates cycling as a sustainable means of transport in Beirut through street art, community projects, public interventions and planning.</blockquote>
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Their interventions had mostly mixed art, street and cycling, by decorating some of the hottest walls in both Beirut and Tripoli with artwork related to cycling and therefore its benefits. They even seem to enjoy all the teasing those drivers stuck in their cars must be feeling. I mean, who wouldn't if you could get to work faster, happier and in a better shape?</div>
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In addition to street art, The Chain Effect had been active by advocating for the bicycle in many other venues, and most especially schools and universities, trying to promote for a healthier lifestyle (in front of those who probably came to school that morning in a car), and an alternative ideation for a potential future.</div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dQp0cLEeyaQ/Wt9RDf2-8DI/AAAAAAAALIQ/K3KT-N4ZTxgEzrsYwDIsqIdQJfTHpAqvACLcBGAs/s1600/29511983_2062552980627125_8974453579588601291_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="721" data-original-width="960" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dQp0cLEeyaQ/Wt9RDf2-8DI/AAAAAAAALIQ/K3KT-N4ZTxgEzrsYwDIsqIdQJfTHpAqvACLcBGAs/s640/29511983_2062552980627125_8974453579588601291_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Please go ahead and support, well I wouldn't say support The Chain Effect, but support yourselves, your cities, your children and their future. Go ahead and join the Bike to Work day tomorrow, and be a role model to those you love. Show your neighbors how the bicycle doesn't really have anything to do with poverty, show them how imbecile it could be to still insist on driving your cars in those two cities.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_2Jd9BGpLZI/Wt9RNTXOhII/AAAAAAAALIU/LsMJhF_OpHoVii7OtEZVQfrlQwmMhmgCQCLcBGAs/s1600/18157788_1893849774164114_8022422915868718890_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="361" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_2Jd9BGpLZI/Wt9RNTXOhII/AAAAAAAALIU/LsMJhF_OpHoVii7OtEZVQfrlQwmMhmgCQCLcBGAs/s640/18157788_1893849774164114_8022422915868718890_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo from last year's event, notice how far they've gone with the amount of sponsors since then!</td></tr>
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Natheer H.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15729982354247534337noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5730933840732264230.post-25025516725853891972018-03-19T22:08:00.002+02:002018-03-19T22:22:16.021+02:00The Case of Mamdouh Al Ragheb<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Around March 9th 2018 a video shared on Social Media of a child beaten down sparks an outrage among activist groups and the pubic in general.<br />
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In the story a student, Mamdouh Al-Ragheb, was <a href="https://www.facebook.com/bserajaldeen/posts/2089724347711377" target="_blank">allegedly "brutally beaten"</a> in his school in Tripoli. The school where the incident took place, "Al Enaya", is second home for hundreds of young students of Syrian nationality, and is for that reason managed by an unofficial educational body known as <a href="https://www.facebook.com/epc.lebanon/" target="_blank">الهيئة التربوية التعليمية في لبنان</a> operating away from the radar of the official Lebanese educational bodies, and whose general secretary, Majd Atef Oyoun Al Soud, is the perpetrator.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OKCcsIvid-A/WrAUyKUmHBI/AAAAAAAALE4/aGyptVQhJGg_vKUr1miHltli7f7JaYRaACLcBGAs/s1600/Baraa_res.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="502" data-original-width="1024" height="312" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OKCcsIvid-A/WrAUyKUmHBI/AAAAAAAALE4/aGyptVQhJGg_vKUr1miHltli7f7JaYRaACLcBGAs/s640/Baraa_res.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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What started as a digital protest on Facebook is now a national cause that is slowly and progressively unearthing shocking truths. One of the early scandals was that, as people started debating whether or not the child was in fact beaten so badly, the principle -Majd- invites the child's parents for some sort of a reconciliation recorded on a smartphone and broadcasted on social media. The child's mom is reported to work at the same school's premises as a cleaning lady, and his father is a disabled man who was present at the gathering. Rumor has it that the accused, Majd, paid the father some money to cover up the story. </div>
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The spearhead of the protest campaign, and a personal friend, Baraa Seraj AlDeen, took it upon himself to investigate and stir the local and international community to take action. Baraa just told me that he interviewed both Majd and Mamdouh's father, the former striking an attack upon Baraa and the "activists clan", claiming the incident is minor, that it doesn't deserve all that hustle and that Mamdouh is just a kid that'll forget it in a couple of days. Ever since that meeting, Baraa and his friends have been receiving threats, some emanating from an employee of the same school. Baraa and friends right now are doing all that is possible to raise the voice against oppression, and take the case to much higher levels. The most recent of their outright call for action is a digital petition and the hashtag <a class="_58cn" data-ft="{"tn":"*N","type":104}" href="https://www.facebook.com/hashtag/%D9%85%D8%A7%D8%B1%D8%AD_%D9%85%D9%84_%D9%84%D9%8A%D8%AA%D8%AD%D8%A7%D8%B3%D8%A8?source=feed_text"><span class="_5afy"><span class="_58cl _5afz">#</span><span class="_58cm">مارح_مل_ليتحاسب</span></span></a></div>
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What was somewhat surprising was the support the online petition was getting from <a href="https://www.facebook.com/bserajaldeen/posts/2088871437796668" target="_blank">current and previous parents</a> at that same school. Those who decided to speak out were standing witnesses against the administration's atrocity towards the students, and the unfair and oppressive treatment they were often getting.</div>
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I very much believe this is yet another case where so much unobserved filth exercised daily on defenseless children is getting exposed to the public, and the perpetrators doing everything they can to silence those voices. I also very much like to invite everyone to take action, whether by using their power and connections to bring Majd and all those alike to justice, or by simply signing the petition to help the story get as much attention as possible.</div>
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Natheer H.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15729982354247534337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5730933840732264230.post-7882055057787561572017-04-26T19:31:00.001+03:002017-04-26T19:33:33.356+03:00Tripoli's Event Calendar - APR/MAY '17<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><p>No, I haven't been planning for this post to be my comeback after a long abstinence, but the fact is,<br />
Tripoli is blooming with events of all sorts, and I found it dearly necessary to shed light on them and share them among the ones I know. As I had stated in my Facebook posts last night, all events are listed in increasing chronological order by start date.</p><br />
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 6px;"></div><h3 style="text-align: left;">1- Tripoli Film Festival – April 27 -> May 4</h3><br />
<div class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><div class="" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ux7xlv9PQZA/WQDGpToFeMI/AAAAAAAAJ1c/PxMloevBJxwVrahGoUJnmMoLfXQ8sQvQQCLcB/s1600/14212649_1110003282420996_8820219350630960141_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ux7xlv9PQZA/WQDGpToFeMI/AAAAAAAAJ1c/PxMloevBJxwVrahGoUJnmMoLfXQ8sQvQQCLcB/s320/14212649_1110003282420996_8820219350630960141_n.jpg" width="320" /></a>Tripoli Film Festival, organized by <a href="https://www.facebook.com/Eklat-Conseils-151766881524218/">Eklat Conseils</a> & <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/129214033776192/">Tripoli Foundation - مؤسسة طرابلس - (Lebanon)</a>, has paved the way in the last few years for marking <a href="https://www.facebook.com/hashtag/tripolilb?source=feed_text&story_id=10154284841106809">#TripoliLB</a> on the international map of Film Festivals, competing with the likes in Cairo and Dubai in the region. <a href="https://www.facebook.com/elias.khlat">Elias Khlat</a>, alongside an army of supporters and volunteers, has succeeded in pulling this event off for the last few years, always growing and always pushing for a better and sharper event every year.<br />
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“The Tripoli Film Festival – Lebanon is a cinematic event conceived as an initiative to ameliorate the image of the city with three main objectives:<br />
- Enriching our local cultural environment in Tripoli.<br />
- Promoting the rich cultural heritage of Tripoli and its local artists.<br />
- Branding and marketing Tripoli and its region as a highly promising tourist destination.”</div><div class="" style="clear: both;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="clear: both;"><a href="http://tripoli-filmfestival.org/festival-2017.html#program" target="_blank">Website</a>, <a href="https://www.facebook.com/TripoliFilmFestival/?hc_location=ufi" target="_blank">Facebook Page</a>.</div><div class="" style="clear: both;"><br />
</div><h3 style="clear: both; text-align: left;">2- Spring Color Festival – April 28</h3><div style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MiblLgGQPCc/WQDHQQ4LPkI/AAAAAAAAJ1k/6JZf2eHDBhwg_LU54nlEbdN7vlwdefITwCLcB/s1600/Spring%2BColor.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="217" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MiblLgGQPCc/WQDHQQ4LPkI/AAAAAAAAJ1k/6JZf2eHDBhwg_LU54nlEbdN7vlwdefITwCLcB/s320/Spring%2BColor.JPG" width="320" /></a>“THE COLOUR FESTIVAL"<br />
An amazing night that will take you white and bring you coloured, never washing away from your memory nor clothes... <br />
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Enjoy the extraterrestrial MUSIC brought to you by DJ 23<br />
Date :28 April<br />
Time:6 PM<br />
Location: Manar University of Tripoli”</div><div style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/1260342050716075/?hc_location=ufi" target="_blank">Event Page</a>.</div><div style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><h3 style="clear: both; text-align: left;">3- Souk Bab al Dahab – APR 29</h3><div style="clear: both;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TFOpbiCBbKM/WQDIH07HUBI/AAAAAAAAJ1s/32JzWgw5d30EGYN8dfcCHvfiQNm9SN5xACLcB/s1600/17435962_1302947249742665_765652478280129156_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TFOpbiCBbKM/WQDIH07HUBI/AAAAAAAAJ1s/32JzWgw5d30EGYN8dfcCHvfiQNm9SN5xACLcB/s320/17435962_1302947249742665_765652478280129156_o.jpg" width="320" /></a>Remember the clashes? MARCH has been putting a lot of effort into spreading and promoting peace and reconciliation through arts and culture. The same people who started off with a mixed coffee shop on the ex-frontline (Kahwetna - قهوتنا Café bi Kaffak) and the theatrical play last year, have amassed a lot of support from all corners of #Lebanon to make this project happen.</div><div style="clear: both;">Kudos to Lea Baroudi and Khaled Merheb and the infinite amount of hidden soldiers. Follow them on #SoukBebElDahab</div><div style="clear: both;">"Almost a year after Kahwetna - قهوتنا Café bi Kaffak's opening, MARCH kicked off its Beb El Dahab Rebuilders Initiative in late 2016. The plan was to renovate 100 shops heavily damaged by the decades of fighting and neglect.</div><div style="clear: both;">MARCH recruited 80 young men, all former fighters, to renovate and revamp 100 stores on Syria Street and Muhajereen Street, overseen by experienced foremen, architects and engineers. Not forgetting the gender equality aspect, MARCH also trained 12 young women from the area in graphic design and marketing, who then went on to design all the shops' signage and marketing material."</div><div style="clear: both;"><br />
</div><div style="clear: both;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/1818591908464323/" target="_blank">Event Page</a>.</div><div style="clear: both;"><br />
</div><h3 style="clear: both; text-align: left;">4- Xangô Live At CAVA – APR 29</h3><div style="clear: both;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pYEGrZOfFKU/WQDIXJMKuYI/AAAAAAAAJ1w/V6WkLBYSgRopzTUxiaDJTXLr4-5hkIf4QCLcB/s1600/17966285_10154168297582757_2633787157448586178_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pYEGrZOfFKU/WQDIXJMKuYI/AAAAAAAAJ1w/V6WkLBYSgRopzTUxiaDJTXLr4-5hkIf4QCLcB/s320/17966285_10154168297582757_2633787157448586178_o.jpg" width="320" /></a>Brazilian Jazz Music!<br />
“Xangô ( pronounced Shangoh ) is a Lebanese based band covering Brazilian / Jazz music. The music ranges from smooth Bossa Nova to fast Samba, variety of Afro Brazilian rhythms.<br />
Saturday April 29th, 2017 - 9.30 pm at CAVA<br />
entrance 10.000LBP<br />
reservations 03543599”</div><div style="clear: both;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/128327647708352/" target="_blank">Event Page</a>.</div><div style="clear: both;"><br />
</div><h3 style="clear: both; text-align: left;">5- Paw Shake's Walk your dog. Save an animal's life. – APR 30</h3><div style="clear: both;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0lHoXQl9Trk/WQDIqJomDhI/AAAAAAAAJ10/nlLKMx7VEfkwPFabbd33hK8zZakrzzj7ACLcB/s1600/17904199_752480301592945_1567994848563563691_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0lHoXQl9Trk/WQDIqJomDhI/AAAAAAAAJ10/nlLKMx7VEfkwPFabbd33hK8zZakrzzj7ACLcB/s320/17904199_752480301592945_1567994848563563691_n.jpg" width="320" /></a>Our very own Paw Shake’s first ever public event, an invitation to all animal lovers in Tripoli and northern Lebanon, especially dogs, to spend the day with their furry friends in an event dedicated for this cause, especially after the atrocities committed by the municipalities against homeless dogs and cats, including poisoning most of them to death. <br />
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Event organizers, namely Nuhad Sheikh and Mahmoud Mawass, have succeeded in amassing the support of several businesses and initiatives in town, such as (but not limited to) Rassif café, Newtown Specialty Coffee Roasters and مشروع قهوة. <br />
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“Walk your dog. Socialize with other dog owners and animal lovers. Support your local animal NGO. Grab a bite with your furry friend. Take and post a selfie. Leave a mark on our "Paw of Fame"”</div><div style="clear: both;"><br />
</div><div style="clear: both;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/1913824608888547/" target="_blank">Event Page</a>.</div><div style="clear: both;"><br />
</div><h3 style="clear: both; text-align: left;">6- Challwe Laugh - May 5</h3><div style="clear: both;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QnQPV0PbyJQ/WQDI7pn9ssI/AAAAAAAAJ14/56gQCLl6Kl0z9oBa3UKuzCskaVxhJsTJQCLcB/s1600/18056811_1455078554545069_3550205936753031771_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="255" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QnQPV0PbyJQ/WQDI7pn9ssI/AAAAAAAAJ14/56gQCLl6Kl0z9oBa3UKuzCskaVxhJsTJQCLcB/s320/18056811_1455078554545069_3550205936753031771_n.jpg" width="320" /></a>Playing at Safadi Cultural Center, organized by I don't know whom. <br />
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"Experience Laughter like you never did before with Challwe Laugh - Comedy Show."</div><div style="clear: both;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/192286047950237/" target="_blank">Event Page</a>.</div><div style="clear: both;"><br />
</div><h3 style="clear: both; text-align: left;">7- Bike Tripoli - May 7</h3><div style="clear: both;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-itF_FVQrmnI/WQDJPE6DaLI/AAAAAAAAJ18/67DVX_ZvzCY8iauiP8mShw955qaGgv95QCLcB/s1600/17523297_616115771926907_3446809985807725894_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-itF_FVQrmnI/WQDJPE6DaLI/AAAAAAAAJ18/67DVX_ZvzCY8iauiP8mShw955qaGgv95QCLcB/s320/17523297_616115771926907_3446809985807725894_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="clear: both;"><br />
</div><div style="clear: both;">Bike Tripoli, a sports initiative by Social Way Association (Mrs. Wafa Saghieh Khoury) is dedicating this cycling event exclusively to women (Rings any bells?) </div><div style="clear: both;"><br />
</div><div style="clear: both;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/BikeTripoli/" target="_blank">Event Page</a>, <a href="https://www.facebook.com/BikeTripoli/videos/623124037892747/" target="_blank">Promo clip</a>.</div><h3 style="clear: both; text-align: left;">8- Behance Portfolio Reviews '17 - May 8</h3><div style="clear: both;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ih71Xnmvfas/WQDKRGeLnPI/AAAAAAAAJ2E/CNpFWAC7m2U84CpWu0xFm5jH7qnwcjhlACLcB/s1600/17434553_247706282305205_8979741210506030479_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ih71Xnmvfas/WQDKRGeLnPI/AAAAAAAAJ2E/CNpFWAC7m2U84CpWu0xFm5jH7qnwcjhlACLcB/s320/17434553_247706282305205_8979741210506030479_o.jpg" width="320" /></a>Behance, the world renowned arts hub, and through their local -verified- community in town are launching their annual portfolio review event.<br />
This year's guests are my amiga Hanane Kai (super happy to know you're coming Hanane) renowned Illustrator and Picture Book Maker, and Salim Azzam, community-based Storyteller and Illustrator.<br />
I'm guessing Samira and Rafik would be there too.</div><div style="clear: both;">"Behance Portfolio Reviews: Connect & Get Feedback On Your Creative Work"</div><div style="clear: both;"><br />
</div><div style="clear: both;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/780569678773534/" target="_blank">Event Page</a>.</div><h3 style="clear: both; text-align: left;">9- Lebanese International Choir Festival II - May 15 -> 21</h3><div style="clear: both;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UkYItrfQWOs/WQDKoMruunI/AAAAAAAAJ2I/49nD6XMB9CsySAQ-6f1edfyGQlqrxchFgCLcB/s1600/17038859_1281387761981064_6159072193002806439_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="163" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UkYItrfQWOs/WQDKoMruunI/AAAAAAAAJ2I/49nD6XMB9CsySAQ-6f1edfyGQlqrxchFgCLcB/s320/17038859_1281387761981064_6159072193002806439_o.jpg" width="320" /></a>It is with great pride to announce the fruit of efforts of so many that I know, all beneath the wings of one of the country's best and most elegant instructors and fathers, Maestro Barkev, the Lebanese International Choir Festival 2017 in its 2nd edition. Brought to you by a huge team of volunteers run by Roula Abou Baker, the Fayha Choir's magic wand and its driving force, the festival will run over the course of a week, spreading its activities among all corners of the country, and ending with a majestic full-day finale in #TripoliLB.</div><div style="clear: both;">"Following the success of the first Lebanese International Choir Festival in 2015, Fayha Choir, in cooperation with Polyfollia International, have decided to hold the second Lebanese International Choir Festival!</div><div style="clear: both;">On one special day during the festival, the world will be able to see the hard work and passion of the talented Syrian and Palestinian refugee children’s choirs of different NGOs including the Norwegian Refugee Council, Sonbola, Beit Atfal Assumoud, and Social Support Society.</div><div style="clear: both;">In parallel to the festival, the 6th Mediterranean Choral Forum and the second 'Sing Me In' meeting will be taking place. For the first time in an Arab country, international music/choral experts will gather to re-discover the choir scene from the Arab perspective."</div><div style="clear: both;"><br />
</div><div style="clear: both;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/236354453457366/" target="_blank">Event Page</a>.</div><div style="clear: both;"><br />
</div><div style="clear: both;">** Quotes taken from respective official outlets for each event and is not endorsed by le moi.</div></div></div>Natheer H.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15729982354247534337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5730933840732264230.post-16231131086863963092017-03-20T19:02:00.000+02:002017-03-20T19:02:46.619+02:00Eves On Wheels, The Next Chapters<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-R--he_MLenU/WNACHxP_ZYI/AAAAAAAAJtI/Knv0ct9XLpUGvmW4U-ycjuC0ktHdDdpKwCLcB/s1600/Front%2B1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="414" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-R--he_MLenU/WNACHxP_ZYI/AAAAAAAAJtI/Knv0ct9XLpUGvmW4U-ycjuC0ktHdDdpKwCLcB/s640/Front%2B1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"><p>It's been a long while since I blogged, and I couldn't be happier to make a comeback for one of my biggest project, Eves On Wheels. So many of you know by now how it never was planned to turn it eventually into a project, I don't have resources enough to make that happen, or to take it where it must go to.</p></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">As I was interviewing all the gorgeous female cyclists in both Tripoli and Beirut, it was almost always nothing short to pure fun. We'd experiment together, the cyclist who more often than not were not used to being photographed, and myself who's not really used to shooting poses. The effort that's been put, however, has been great by far. We all managed to come up with beautiful photographs that portray each character in liaison with their story, all in a much suitable environment in the frame too. We also managed to get the media to write about us, I personally had been interviewed a handful times on TV and Radio, and so on and so forth.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<div style="text-align: justify;">It's no secret today at all, how much support the project needs to come up to expectations. Starting with the logistical and financial needs to cover harsher parts in Lebanon, I'm just thinking out loud when I mention the Bekaa valley, Beirut's southern suburb, Southern cities such as Saida and Sur. All those aside, the project has been harvesting major appraisals anywhere its news travel to. On the official level, Eves On Wheels has booked an exclusive exhibiting space at the KIP Conference for Sexual Harassment and Discrimination at the AUB, on both March 31st and April 1st, 2017. It has also been officially invited by the Alliance Francaise - Karachi to visit, exhibit, and possibly hold a handful activities related to the topic, such as open talks with community, presentations in universities, public seminars, etc.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Furthermore, the project is given the green flag to visit each of Algeria, Turkey, Pakistan, India, Iran, Egypt, Sudan and Iraq to cover the similar female cycling revolution, where women alike are claiming back their rights in male-dominated societies. Countries like Syria, Jordan, Tunis, Morocco and many others could also be fertile lands for similar initiatives, on the hopes to create a virtual support platform for all these women just like it did in Lebanon.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The "Eves On Wheels" project has, by words of others, raised the spirits of so many of its Eves who were in dire need to feel any sort of support at a given time, due to knockdowns by their own families and communities at times. And I personally cannot imagine the support the project will transfer to other women elsewhere too.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.generosity.com/community-fundraising/eves-on-wheels-the-next-chapters" target="_blank">Crowdfunding page</a> on Generosity</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">For all the above, I have started a <a href="https://www.generosity.com/community-fundraising/eves-on-wheels-the-next-chapters" target="_blank">crowdfunder</a> recently that would remain active until the project sustains itself for a couple more year. I have therefore asked for 2,000USD that would cover printing costs for the exhibition at the KIP, in addition to the trip costs to Karachi and hopefully to other cities in Pakistan.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">If you ever feel like supporting the project, giving it a much needed push, here's what you can do:</div><ol style="text-align: left;"><li style="text-align: justify;">Donate: by visiting the crowdfunder on <a href="https://www.generosity.com/community-fundraising/eves-on-wheels-the-next-chapters" target="_blank">Generosity</a>:</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Share among your friends, call or send emails.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Share on social media and invite your friends.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Put me in touch with somebody who might be interested in sponsoring the project. Said sponsor has to have some relation to cycling, might be a cycling company, a bicycle shop, and so on.</li>
</ol><div><div style="text-align: justify;">I'm personally aware of how crucial this stage is to the project. It's very much clear to me that I'm either able to sustain the project and grow it into something more impactful, or just basically enjoying the thrill of the upcoming exhibition and then leave everything to be forgotten over time.<br />
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A video of last year's exhibition at Beit El Nessim:</div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div></div>Natheer H.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15729982354247534337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5730933840732264230.post-50259577720463706022016-11-19T11:42:00.000+02:002016-11-19T19:49:20.725+02:00When Aly found Marie<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Jh2YYxnR8ek/WDCHYqPt7lI/AAAAAAAAHVc/stPS6dw7Eugf1WXmxI2ftzrcbLlzb-b9ACLcB/s1600/dusty%2Bwyndow%2Bblog.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="412" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Jh2YYxnR8ek/WDCHYqPt7lI/AAAAAAAAHVc/stPS6dw7Eugf1WXmxI2ftzrcbLlzb-b9ACLcB/s640/dusty%2Bwyndow%2Bblog.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<p>Not so long ago, particularly in one of my summer trips to Lebanon, I meet a woman called Marie, she endlessly wept as she was telling me . It was then when she hit me with the worst, as she was heartbroken over the fact that her son would be 62 the next day. I didn't get it, and upon me asking why is this making her so sad, she frantically said "he's been missing since 37 years now".</p><br />
News got on social media through the below post, and it took some time before it got some interaction and, only in March 2016 had the story's exposure started to pick up. Many people shared the story, some of them recognized Marie (or somebody who looked similar, or had a similar story), but then there was only this guy, Aly, who was literally head-first in the story, he left me wondering what's in it for him as he was privately messaging me over the course of the next two months on the updates of his search.<br />
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Some time passed and I had not realized at all, that Aly had never forgotten about Marie, until just yesterday where he pops up saying "We Found Her". My heart was on cloud 9 that same moment, I just couldn't believe it. It felt as if I had been waiting for that update since forever now.<br />
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However charming and magnificent this update might sound, we're still on the shore nevertheless. First of all the only sort of help that could bring Marie back to life is putting all efforts into investigating in her son's fate. A closure for a grieving person like Marie can mean the whole world, can even be more important than her own life. I still remember her telling me of how unimportant food was, if it weren't for a few good church servants who'd offer her a meal or two weekly. Second sort of help can be, of course, by providing her with a sturdy and coherent source of shelter and income, so that she wouldn't have to beg taxi drivers to drive her somewhere for free.<br />
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And last but not least, if there was anything that shook our hearts with Marie's story is the fact that there still are thousands and thousands similar brokenhearted mothers and wives out there in this damned country, forever grieving their loved ones waking up each day wishing for a closure. And I had not seen one politician do anything in that measure. It's time we woke up and grew some guts in that sense, Marie and all the other mothers certainly deserve to live the rest of their lives peacefully.<br />
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I will keep you updated as Aly will meet Marie very soon, there might be some ways we could all help.<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq"><i>"Heartbreaking , closure is important , it is a daily torture to live with the questions that have no answers , is he alive ? Is he dead? How ? Where? When? A mother's heart will never forget or let go , it will forever beat with the aching endless love for her kids !"</i> - <a href="https://www.facebook.com/joeyhayoub/posts/10156811503455347?comment_id=10156815591840347&comment_tracking=%7B%22tn%22%3A%22R%22%7D" target="_blank">Latifa El Hinnawi</a> </blockquote></div>Natheer H.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15729982354247534337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5730933840732264230.post-71950952511726459462016-11-10T10:00:00.002+02:002016-11-10T10:58:53.458+02:00Tripoli Recites, by Zeina Hachem Beck<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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This is a post about how small the earth is. Back in my UAE days I learn there's a poetry gathering in Dubai, a couple hours away from where I lived. I contacted the organizers only to know they were Lebanese, she was Lebanese as a matter of fact. It was only her, Zeina, who was in charge of it all and that event happened to be the season finale before their summer/fall break. Knowing the curator of PUNCH (see <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/648413928527118/" target="_blank">here</a>) being Lebanese, and later on finding out she's also from Tripoli was a blast. I do have a handful of friends from Tripoli too, some living abroad, but they all have this in common: they have started a poetry collective wherever they are. <a href="https://www.facebook.com/samer.annous" target="_blank">Samer Annous</a>, assistant professor at the university of Balamand, has been famous for running those monthly poetry gatherings in Mina, particularly every first Wednesday of a new month. <a href="https://www.facebook.com/sara.sibai.10" target="_blank">Sara Sibai</a> has blown minds with her spoken word poetry, and keeps on doing so. She is now curator of the Beirut Poetry Slam, and also took part previously in initiatives such as the Soapbox Society.<br />
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Back to Zeina, that veteran Tripolitan, wife, and mother of two adorable daughters, had found it best to start what is known now by PUNCH: Dubai-Based Poetry and Open Mic Collaborative, probably the only of its kind in all of the emirates. I met Zeina the first time, during their season finale event where they gathered some of the most profound spoken-word artists ever. Some of them had moved us to tears, while some others swept us off our feet with their mesmerizing performances of love, deceit and so much more, some others were so great at filling the whole lounge with giggles and laughter, however.<br />
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I like to celebrate people of this kind, the sort that brings other people together, that brings other energies together in one spot and moves on with it, shapes it up and brings it up to the world in an unprecedented way. Zeina's poetry slams have received much praise by Dubai-based and international media, aside from being praised for her own work, being an accomplished poet and spoken word artist. It might be highly relevant, too, to mention that I'd heard of Zeina through her previous work with my beloved Fayha Choir, in an outstanding performace called 3Araby Song (video below).<br />
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Long story short, Zeina is going back home tomorrow, for her second solo performance in Tripoli, in <a href="https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=331260193883493&fref=ts" target="_blank">Warche-13</a> in particular, the gorgeous newly-opened cultural venue in Mina. Event details can be see <a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/217562335341668/" target="_blank">here on Facebook</a>, and will launch at 7.00pm sharp. The event will be followed by a book signing.<br />
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Natheer H.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15729982354247534337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5730933840732264230.post-71565312372273781822016-10-03T17:24:00.001+03:002016-10-03T17:24:43.869+03:00Ruwwad, Tripoli's Pioneers<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo from <a href="https://www.facebook.com/RuwwadLebanon/" target="_blank">Ruwwad Lebanon's Facebook Page</a></td></tr>
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"I came here a broken woman, Ruwwad has turned me into a strong person. I don't have to beg any politician anymore!" were the words a woman performed as she stood among her peers interpreting a video they were just watching. She gathered the applauds of every single person listening, whether donors, guests or staff. She was one of the ladies that were benefiting from Ruwwad's empowerment program gathering women from both ex-conflicting Jabal Mohsen and Tabbaneh under one roof.</div>
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"Everybody thought I was a notorious person, somebody who cannot be friends with others, and that made me pretty upset in return, until Ruwwad came along and showed everybody the real me" uttered a young man in front of us during the "Dardashat" stop, part of the "My Identity" program at Ruwwad. I was immensely moved with this young man's intervention, and I bet I saw somebody else wiping her tear too.</div>
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"Some of our students have come over to us wishing their schools were as cool as Ruwwad's support classes", said Ms. Reem Haj Ali answering one of the guest's questions. The classroom was so vibrant it took us a while to realize there were so many children benefiting from the library dedicated to Ruwwad's children. The same library was also filled with books and stories of all genres, languages and sizes to fit to each child's hunger for learning and reading. I could see with my own eyes the way each of those kids were enjoying the classroom and the whole atmosphere.</div>
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All of the above took place right before the inauguration of the Ruwwad's graduation ceremony, celebrating the first batch of graduating students from the support program launched by Ruwwad a few years back for young adults from both Jabal Mohsen and Tabbaneh, previously drenched in bloody conflict and not joint-back with efforts such as Ruwwad's.</div>
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What is Ruwwad?</div>
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"Ruwwad Al-Tanmeya is a non-profit community development organization that works with disenfranchised communities through education, youth volunteerism and grassroots organizing. Our approach encompasses an array of programs and initiatives that, together, strengthen agency and facilitate redress to problems prioritized by members of the community. Three main programs anchor Ruwwad: Child Development, Youth Organizing and Community Support." - Abstract from their <a href="https://www.facebook.com/RuwwadLebanon" target="_blank">FB Page.</a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Photo from <a href="https://www.facebook.com/RuwwadLebanon/" target="_blank">Ruwwad Lebanon's Facebook Page</a></td></tr>
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I was invited to the inauguration and the private donor tour right before the main ceremony, I was by that given the chance to witness beforehand the importance of what Ruwwad was doing. The same guys and girls who were looking at each other as enemies a while not so long ago, were now working together hand by hand to reach a place higher than the dumpster they were all left to rot in.</div>
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As the bio explains, Ruwwad had been mobilized not so long ago, mainly by active members of the private sector to reenergize the conflicting areas of Jabal and Tabbaneh, especially after the reconciliation almost two years ago. Today, Ruwwad spans Jordan, Egypt, Lebanon and Palestine, and operates through a strong network of partnerships with the private sector and civil society and governmental agencies (source: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/RuwwadLebanon/" target="_blank">Ruwwad's FB page</a>).<br />
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It is not troublesome to admit that, Sarah Al Charif with the help of the gorgeous girls and boys helping out running Ruwwad and volunteering for this or that chore, are handsdown some of the most hardworking people I've encountered in Lebanon. I don't need to be told what their building was like a year or two ago, I've seen it with my own eyes. I've heard with my own ears what was it like to be from either areas talking about your neighbour right across the street. Ruwwad have done some phenomenal work right there.</div>
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Even though I weren't able to attend the main ceremony, but the vibes were all over the internet. I will be quoting several Facebook posts as follows. All the best to all the graduated students and can't wish but the best for Ruwwad and its personnel.</div>
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Natheer H.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15729982354247534337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5730933840732264230.post-44044178232053285042016-08-13T17:33:00.002+03:002016-08-13T17:38:23.631+03:00My 30th<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><p>We've been friends for a while then you must know I'm not big fan of typical everyday birthday celebrations, from facebook posts to cakes and parties. It's not that I'm being prophet of doom here or, well, the Grinch, it's just that I don't see any purpose of celebrating a day I haven't contributed to in any way. Hold on, let me put that differently, I'd very much love to celebrate a friendship anniversary for instance, a sweet memory, an achievement, some progress I was part of, you get the idea.</p><br />
That said, you must also know of my yearly anniversary ritual, which is quite different each year. (check <a href="http://dustywyndow.blogspot.com/2012/07/superficial-birthday-wishes.html" target="_blank">2012</a>, <a href="http://dustywyndow.blogspot.com/2013/07/my-27th-day-of-birth.html" target="_blank">2013</a>, <a href="https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10152155064961809&set=a.10150424908181809.352090.637536808&type=3&theater" target="_blank">2014</a> & <a href="https://www.facebook.com/nath.halawani/posts/10152882577021809" target="_blank">2015</a>). Despite growing really tired of all this, I thought to give it a shot based on previous years' success stories. It all started with using a <a href="https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10153574286246809&set=a.10150424908181809.352090.637536808&type=3&theater" target="_blank">cover photo</a> on my Facebook inciting folks and fellows to, since they'll be doing it either ways, express their birthday celebration differently, whether in a kind deed, a good word or basically just about anything that I can have pride in saying "This somebody did this something on my birthday!"<br />
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Long story very, very short, I did end up getting some feedback. This blogpost is to celebrate them all.<br />
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Starting with Sandra, the one who managed to turn into two complete strangers into acquaintances, one of them actually ended up on their couch watching a movie with them.<br />
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And then on to Nina, who gleefully took out the company's receptionist out for lunch :)) and much more too.<br />
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Another friend, Vanessa, had done something incredible too, which she wanted to keep secret. And not to forget Cady, who had hilariously made his precious roommate dinner that day and made sure he'd let me know. Cracking!<br />
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Nuhad on the other hand had made my day with an out-of-the-box sort of deeds. See for yourselves.<br />
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Last but never the least, here's a bunch of posts that genuinely made me smile my heart out (I'm sure there were others, but forgive me for having so many and barely able to follow them all, especially after this long while).<br />
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</div>Natheer H.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15729982354247534337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5730933840732264230.post-10318163292822238612016-07-23T19:47:00.000+03:002016-07-23T19:47:48.131+03:00El Mina's Book Market<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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It goes without saying that yesterday was probably when the town had witnessed one of its most successful mini-projects. It was that <a href="https://www.facebook.com/samer.annous?fref=ts" target="_blank">Samer</a>, the Tripolitan professor at a renowned university in town, and the activist if I may call him, had wanted to put to use the available resources in order to bring books back to life, and hopefully promote for a new fashion for reading them.<br />
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Samer, and through the Cultural Agenda, made ties with a few fellows and created what is now known as the “<a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/249993825392092/permalink/283492688708872/" target="_blank">El Mina Book Marke</a>t”, the first of its kind in Mina (Tripoli’s very own sea port) where used books are sold, bought and exchanged too, all in the sake of gathering enough money to send children back to school. The event was held in non-other than <a href="https://www.facebook.com/Rassifcoffee/" target="_blank">Rassif café</a>, the roadside coffee shop that, I believe, had excelled in marking a new footprint and raising the bar for all future coffee shops in town.<br />
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“An open air street market for used books. Kids' reading corner and family activities. If you'd like to volunteer or participate in organizing the event, send a message to Cultural Agenda- El Mina.”</blockquote>
As you might be able to notice from the photos, the books were so diversified I was baffled myself. You could see the quran and the tales of the Sahabas right next to a communist book, a German novel or the bible itself. Aside from the books themselves, it was worth mentioning that the organizers had made a wonderful move by inviting a couple authors to the market, in order to exhibit books of their own too, namely <a href="https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=668115460&fref=ts&ref=br_tf" target="_blank">Yahya Mawloud</a> and <a href="https://www.facebook.com/michel.baghdadlian" target="_blank">Michel Baghdadlian</a>, both of whom had been dearly celebrated.<br />
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The event, as Samer had stated earlier, would take place once a month, which is also the time by which readers would have to return the book they borrowed on the event before. And yes, there was a section for Not-For-Sale books, also known as “Exchange books”.<br />
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I can only say I had felt immense happiness for so many reasons, of which the below:<br />
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<li>Books have found a new spot to be exhibited other than the city’s yearly “Book Exhibition” which I dare call “very poor”.</li>
<li>People have found what quenched their thirst for an active startup-society of readers and like-minded fellows. What was more surprising was when two neighbors met at the book market not knowing how much of a book worm the other neighbor was!</li>
<li>It’s a humanitarian cause at the end of the day. </li>
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All the best for the Cultural Agenda and all helping hands, the best is yet to come.</div>
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Natheer H.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15729982354247534337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5730933840732264230.post-67180150539041352722016-06-20T19:28:00.001+03:002016-06-20T19:30:14.348+03:00Paw Shake, Tripoli's First Animal Shelter<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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We finally have it in town, Tripoli's very own, and possibly the first, dog shelter. A group of enthusiasts has decided it's about time there were somebody in town to take care of all the homeless and rejected feline friends, many of whom end up being tortured out there, even put to death in some cases, especially those linked to the municipalities themselves, mainly due to total ignorance of how to handle stray animals.<br />
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A few words about Paw Shake from the initiative itself on their <a href="http://www.zoomaal.com/projects/54850?ref=72607669">Zoomal Page</a>:<br />
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Paw shake is a group of several young guys in Tripoli and all are volunteers. We all have the same passion for dogs and we have raised many dogs in our homes in Tripoli. Each person of this team is dedicating his free time for dogs rescuing through reporting and sending homeless dogs to specific NGOs in Lebanon who are providing shelter and food for these homeless dogs.</blockquote>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Puppies put for sale in Tripoli's Flea Market</td></tr>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/mahmoud.mawass.9">Mahmoud Mawass</a>, founder of Paw Shake, has wholeheartedly launched a <a href="http://www.zoomaal.com/projects/54850?ref=72607669">Zoomal crowdfunder</a> titled "Take Me Home" recently to amass up to 85,000USD to be used for the land, for the shelter itself and of course, for the operational costs and staff expenses. The shelter will be situated in Tripoli, but will extend its operation to Mina too, Tripoli's most famous bay, as Paw Shake is doing its best to convince both municipalities to join forces in terms of support, funds and also, and most importantly, awareness.<br />
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My two cents: I do believe what has been happening to stray dogs, their puppies too, is tragic to say the least. With an uneducated society progressively exporting individuals finding their way to municipality and decision making positions, it's about time to break that endless loop in regards to stray animals and bring in fresh, educated spirits, such as Paw Shake.<br />
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You may always support the initiative by:<br />
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<li>Supporting them through <a href="http://www.zoomaal.com/projects/54850?ref=72607669">Zoomal</a></li>
<li>Becoming a volunteer as of now</li>
<li>Liking their page and promoting them on social networks</li>
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Natheer H.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15729982354247534337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5730933840732264230.post-17788923727311575452016-05-02T13:51:00.001+03:002016-05-03T20:49:05.740+03:00Video Footage - Le Trio Joubran in Concert<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Couldn't think of a better place where I can share all the videos I shot during the Trio Joubran latest concert in Palm Jumeirah, Dubai, on April 30th 2016. Let alone that I'm a big fan of the three Palestinian brothers, these guys kicked some serious ass in a stunning performance back then.<br />
This post isn't about the photos I had taken (you can check them on <a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10153396678371809.1073741961.637536808&type=3" target="_blank">my facebook</a> or on <a href="http://24.ae/article.aspx?ArticleId=243076">24.ae</a>), but rather as one place where you guys can watch their performance split into parts.<br />
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Now for the technicalities, excuse:<br />
1- The unexpected nauseous camera shakes<br />
2- The amplified bass and distorted sound<br />
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Natheer H.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15729982354247534337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5730933840732264230.post-58575187172589173832016-02-08T20:33:00.000+02:002016-02-09T13:33:26.820+02:00Buster Keaton, taking over my blog for a while.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Who would've thought that one day my blog, the Dusty Wyndow blog, would wear the cape of one of the world's top silent performers (yet not as famous as Charlie Chaplin)? Here's how, and why, it all happened.<br />
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It had come to a point a while ago where I grew really tired of playing youtube and soundcloud music, track after track, to keep myself and my tiny desert house entertained. Music just wasn't doing the job anymore. It was all until one day I found myself playing movies as early as the 1920s, surprised by the fact that we actually had movies back then. I had always made fun of the way our grandparents would be taken so damn serious by what's displayed on that big luminous screen: Actor falls down? they gasp and their faces turn white. Train wagon coming their way? Some would probably jump off their seats, wholeheartedly believing it is actually happening! Never had the slightest clue this phenomenon would reach my chores as well.<br />
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It was when I decided to play those silent movies back to back, not really caring much what or who I'm watching, since to me there had been only Charlie Chaplin, the one who triggered it all. I was watching, for the 100th time probably, Charlie's masterpieces, such as <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S7_n8FzqoCg" target="_blank">Modern Times</a>, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4NtBnaarXfg" target="_blank">The Great Dictator</a> or <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jToE3ZEp-ak" target="_blank">The Circus</a>. Those films really got a taste of their own: The cheesy piano music, the -mostly- expressionless faces and the simplicity, most importantly, that overcame the whole thing and managed to get a grab of our hearts all.<br />
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However, there was something telling me that, somewhere out there, there has been this trend where films were not made longer than 20min, and probably before the days Charlie had become a famous actor. A few clicks here and there were enough to meet Buster, a name I had never heard before but a face I had seen often times.<br />
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Who is Buster?</h3>
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Joseph Frank "Buster" Keaton (October 4, 1895 – February 1, 1966) was an American actor, director, producer, writer, and stunt performer. He was best known for his silent films, in which his trademark was physical comedy with a consistently stoic, deadpan expression, earning him the nickname "The Great Stone Face"</blockquote>
Funny enough, he got the name "Buster" when he fell down a staircase at the age of 6 months and was then picked up by non else than Harry Houdini, who said "That kid could really take a buster".<br />
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My doubts were finally confirmed, the guy was a dead face throughout his performances! That sure has exponentially increased my infatuation gauge and got me hooked (will explain in a bit). Buster's 20-mins films were rolling back to back at that moment, and the couchsurfers that happened to be crashing at my place back then had their own share as well.<br />
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His Works</h3>
I got to admit, again, that I knew Buster only recently. Lucky are those who had spent more time digging through his works, and probably growing old in his era as well. I had started out with "<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fwls7oS-MHI" target="_blank">The Goat</a>" filmed and published in early 1920s, broke my heart later on to see him an aging man in "<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=epfOOodUzHI" target="_blank">The Railroader</a>" (1956) almost a generation later, the wrinkles eating his face out. The guy has <a href="http://www.whatwouldbusterkeatondo.com/p/filmography.html" target="_blank">over 80 titles</a> in legacy, in which he not only acted, but also wrote and directed, before cancer ended his life in 1966.<br />
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Why Buster?</h3>
It's here where I ran out of words. Why him to take over my blog and not any other person? What did he have that had grabbed so many hearts and still is? Luckily though, I had stumbled on a page citing <a href="http://www.whatwouldbusterkeatondo.com/p/5-reasons-to-love-buster.html" target="_blank">10 Reasons to Love Buster Keaton</a>, reciting the top five below:<br />
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5. His Eyes.<br />
4. Buster was not educated.<br />
3. His stunning physicality.<br />
2. His tight artistic vision.<br />
1. He always makes me want to be a better person. </blockquote>
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So what's with his dead face?</h3>
"Poker face", "Great stoned face", "Silent face" were few of the endless adjectives attributed to Keaton's figurine. Despite of all the reasons why Joseph Keaton had decided that, it still is an unshakable proof that this person is a master actor, being able to suppress all sort of emotions leaving the viewer the freedom to shape it up the way they want. The New Yorker had written the below about Keaton:<br />
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“In a film world that exaggerated everything, and in which every emotion was dramatized and elaborated, he remained impassive and solemn, his poker-faced inscrutability suppressing all emotion.”</blockquote>
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All in all</h3>
Had I ever thought of giving tribute to anybody on my blog and smudging them all over the website, at this moment I could not think of a better match. Buster is the type of people, and I say people, and not actor, that forced his way to my timeless list of impressive characters and sure had made unbreakable ties with millions out there, myself being one of them.<br />
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Natheer H.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15729982354247534337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5730933840732264230.post-79371090702462256002016-01-06T20:39:00.000+02:002016-01-06T21:18:09.367+02:00Why I still don't have a Facebook Photography Page<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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And will never have one, not in the near future at least, to clear things out first and foremost.<br />
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It's become a trend lately for anybody who's reached a certain level of progress (both technical & artistic) in photography, to seriously consider promoting their work in order to, out of oh-so-many reasons, possibly earn a buck or two on the side, or it could be simply to create this one point where "fans" can follow their most recent work.</div>
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Photography has always been a breath of fresh air to me, no matter how cliche it might sound, but it definitely is. Photography has definitely taken me to places I would never even imagine myself being if it weren't for my camera. I was doing pretty well at some point in the past (and still do, hopefully) when a few friends approached me to launch a Facebook page, some even insisted I'd do so. Most of these calls were turned down eventually, me thinking that it's an absolute waste of time.</div>
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"I'm not even close to being good enough to having my own Facebook page" - I thought to myself repeatedly.</div>
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But was it really about the fact that I'm not up to the challenge? Here are some of the speculations I had been noticing on other photographers' (repeatedly underlining the word "photographer") Facebook pages, the speculations that I had used over the time to build a pretty solid list of things that keep me away from running one of my own:</div>
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<li style="text-align: justify;"><b>Niche:</b> I simply can't make the commitment of keeping a non-niche page alive (cf.2). A normal all-around type-o-photography page will not attract any viewers other than the 1st level friends and their friends too, to a max of a few hits/views a day on the long run and probably a few likes a week (cf.4) from people we never heard of, or that don't live in the same country. And hence the question: What's my niche? What am I really good at? God only knows..</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">No.1 being said, a page that acts as a magnet for <u>new</u> viewers has to have a niche. In other words, the photographer in concern has to be dedicated to one type/style of work, and one only. The general formula could be: success/uniqueness grows reverse proportionally to the breadth of the photographer's style (the less your styles are, the more unique of a photographer you become).</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><b>The Audience:</b> a major factor each Facebook photographer has to think of: Who are my audience? Do I have the tools to reach a circle wider than my surrounding and the ones that already know me? Am I up to being able to grow and interact with a challenging audience in order to improve? How am I going to be able to surround myself with unbiased critics and professional viewers? Questions I don't have answers to (yet).</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><b>The Scale:</b> I can't really imagine myself getting to a point where my success is measured by the amount of likes my page has, and therefore comparing it to other pages with more or less likes. It's a totally false representation of the value of my work as a photographer: I bet posting a photo that received over 10K interactions (likes, shares, etc..) in the past on some artist's page prior to a concert won't get anything beyond 100 being re-posted in a page.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><b>The Bad Stuff:</b> In continuation of No.4, and in moments of despair due to lack of new likes (or worse, the loss of some previous likes), I might find myself doing the following:</li>
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<li style="text-align: justify;">Sharing to my profile each and every photo that I post to the point where each photo has only one share, and that would be me.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Liking my own posts</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Tagging some friends</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Posting a manual on how to see my page's feed, believing in the conspiracy that Mr. Zuckerburg has dedicated a few of his minions to bring my page down.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Resharing some of my old work in the sake of some new likes from newcomers</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Inviting old-time school friends to like my page, with whom I haven't had a decent conversation since, well basically, school!</li>
<li>The worst of all: sponsoring my page as a last resort.</li>
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<li style="text-align: justify;"><b>The Squeezing:</b> I'd be put under a tremendous amount of pressure to issue new (and regular) work, whether in stories or in individuals, the thing that I hate the most, and that I constantly run from when it comes to photography. I like the pace I set to myself.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><b>The Captions:</b> I might be a good photographers but that would be for a very good reason: I suck at expressing myself. I suck even more whenever it comes to writing something below my photo, something that I had run away from a long time ago. What's with the captions you say? I have learned down the road how important the accompanying text may be, and how strong it is to the point that sometimes, in some cases, a bad caption can ruin a darn good image.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><b>Picking A Name:</b> How can I even put it to words? Can you imagine? <i>"Natheer Halawani Photography Page"</i>, <i>"The work of Natheer Halawani"</i>? No. Then what? Probably settle for some out-of-the-box ingenious yet low-profile name. <i>"NH Photography"</i> ? Gosh no, I'm never going that way.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><b>A Helping Hand:</b> The fact that I'll be needing the help of my Facebook friends to share and promote for my work kills me, plainly kills me. Not because they're my friends doing me a favor, but it's basically a sign that I've reached a point of despair. It might get so hideous that I might back away from the thought of it only because of the promotion. </li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><b>The Compression:</b> Do I even have to elaborate? How many of you were ticked off by having their photos compressed to trash quality on Facebook when initially they were thought to be a masterpiece on your laptop? Even major photoshop artists seem to stay away from Facebook only because of compression, which might turn their artwork into garbage.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><b>The Censorship</b>: Even though I haven't really done anything that needs censoring, but Facebook is quite famous for its unreasonable censor guidelines, whether that be violence, nudity, profanity, etc.. Last thing a photographer/artist needs is some more limitations.</li>
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It all seems, however, so easy and even pleasurable too for some of my photographer friends, and I do salute them for all the work that's been done, in any means possible, to promote and preserve a fully functioning page that doesn't just pass away in time. However, and you might be asking yourself this as I type, what is the alternative? I'll throw in some of what I had thought of:</div>
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<li><b>A Website:</b> Dear old 2000s technology will always remain alive. On top, it's totally professional if done right, and highly customizable too, rather than the blue tint vomiting all over my "page". In fact, I might as well dare and call a website a "Silent Facebook Page", where the absence of any sort of visible/readable human interaction is actually a bliss. I might add actually that I'm indeed running <a href="http://www.natheerhalawani.com/" target="_blank">my own website</a>, which had quite a blast of support the moment it was published, and up til this day the website is doing absolutely awesome in terms of stats, even without me pulling any SEO strings.</li>
<li><b>Flickr: </b>What's that you ask? Probably one of the oldest -and best, to be frank- tools any photographer can find online. Not only does it well secure your work against online theft, it also provides a major exposure to a huge audience of amateur to senior photographers. That's of course in addition to the immense storage offering (1TB/account as far as I remember) and the absence of any image compression.</li>
<li><b>My Personal Facebook Profile:</b> and yes, why not? The audience is already there, in fact my audience is growing with me. Their perception to my work is changing as mine is, which is splendid to be honest. They get to see my normal life, my music tastes and my travels, all while being reminded occasionally that my photographs are getting better and better. Something that a mere page doesn't come close to.</li>
<li><b>Other Photography-Related Social Networks:</b> Such as the famous 500px, 1x.com, and many more, with services available entirely for free and of course in addition to some limitations here and there.</li>
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It might be irrelevant at this point to clearly state Facebook has not been built to suit the needs of photographers all around, well at least not at this time. Facebook has been (and will always be in my guess) a social network, not more, not less.<br />
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<b>Disclaimer:</b> Whatever is mentioned above doesn't necessarily have to be true or false, neither does it apply to anybody but me, the author. Any point stated above might stand the total opposite to somebody else, and for that, I would really love to read your inputs.</div>
Natheer H.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15729982354247534337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5730933840732264230.post-15044402276640454242015-08-23T16:31:00.004+03:002016-01-16T21:00:52.829+02:00#YouReek in #Photography<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I admit I was feeling so furious tapping my mouse and my keyboard buttons trying to scout the interweb to get a good reach of what's going on in my capital, in my country, a million kilometers away. Just like every other Lebanese expat around the globe, we were feeling the walls closing up on us, all stuck and struck with what we're seeing. It took me a while (til the morning after) to realize, though, how big and beautiful what happened was, and all that's still happening til this moment [<a href="http://www.dailystar.com.lb/PhotoGallery.aspx?id=1508" target="_blank">Thousands protest against government in Beirut-TDS</a>].</div>
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I'm not here to make a journalistic recap of the protest and its byproducts, I just felt, as a photographer and a Lebanese individual, who just couldn't make it there, that I'd share in one blogpost what my fellow photographers have captured, whether professional photographers or amateurs, during yesterday's escalating circle of events, in a way to show my appreciation towards what they did, the guts they had to stick by the protesters only to show what's really happening. I'll leave you to the photos that will mark Lebanon's history for years to come. Credits given in the caption.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GJx_p4z6000/VdnAWTXAKlI/AAAAAAAAFpk/J5TRxh2kuPQ/s1600/DSCF1407.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="427" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GJx_p4z6000/VdnAWTXAKlI/AAAAAAAAFpk/J5TRxh2kuPQ/s640/DSCF1407.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.patrickmouzawak.com/" style="font-size: 12.8px;" target="_blank">©Patrick Mouzawak</a></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-82_-MXC8cmo/Vdm-lc3Xa0I/AAAAAAAAFog/yimNI82462c/s1600/Patrick%2BMouzawak%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-82_-MXC8cmo/Vdm-lc3Xa0I/AAAAAAAAFog/yimNI82462c/s640/Patrick%2BMouzawak%2B2.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.patrickmouzawak.com/" style="font-size: 12.8px;" target="_blank">©Patrick Mouzawak</a></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2q_7DgdXpWo/Vdm-oOZHqHI/AAAAAAAAFow/y3NogAA1dOE/s1600/Patrick%2BMouzawak%2B5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2q_7DgdXpWo/Vdm-oOZHqHI/AAAAAAAAFow/y3NogAA1dOE/s640/Patrick%2BMouzawak%2B5.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.patrickmouzawak.com/" style="font-size: 12.8px;" target="_blank">©Patrick Mouzawak</a></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NaNMHA_Yhs0/Vdm1xo2h5UI/AAAAAAAAFnU/YAGNegMfvEs/s1600/Sam%2BTarling%2B1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NaNMHA_Yhs0/Vdm1xo2h5UI/AAAAAAAAFnU/YAGNegMfvEs/s1600/Sam%2BTarling%2B1.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An anti-government protestor passes a face mask to a soldier last night in downtown #Beirut. A couple of protesters threw stones at the soldiers but were stopped by others. Lots of chants of what roughly translates as "God bless the army". Loud boos at points for the riot cops who were dousing protestors and soldiers alike in swathes of teargas #Lebanon #trashcrisis #youreek #youstink<br />
<a href="http://www.corbisimages.com/ImageGroup/5/2247450/42-76058150" target="_blank">©Sam Tarling</a></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EpwuuTl3XCM/Vdm6wBn7RTI/AAAAAAAAFnk/KzUxEVvfnY0/s1600/Sam%2BTarling%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="427" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EpwuuTl3XCM/Vdm6wBn7RTI/AAAAAAAAFnk/KzUxEVvfnY0/s640/Sam%2BTarling%2B2.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An anti-government protestor holds a rock that he'll throw toward police in downtown #Beirut, earlier tonight. #Lebanon #youreek #youstink #trashcrisis #somuchmorethanjustatrashcrisis<br />
<span style="font-size: 12.8px;"><a href="http://www.corbisimages.com/ImageGroup/5/2247450/42-76058150" target="_blank">©Sam Tarling</a></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GUpfWjx43q0/Vdm7S-PBdQI/AAAAAAAAFns/wDvA_bwf2f4/s1600/Sam%2BTarling%2B3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GUpfWjx43q0/Vdm7S-PBdQI/AAAAAAAAFns/wDvA_bwf2f4/s640/Sam%2BTarling%2B3.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Riot police face off anti government protestors in downtown #Beirut tonight. #youreek #youstink #Lebanon #trashcrisis #somuchmorethanjustatrashcrisis<br />
<span style="font-size: 12.8px;"><a href="http://www.corbisimages.com/ImageGroup/5/2247450/42-76058150" target="_blank">©Sam Tarling</a></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tqQLnRQf4f4/Vdm7wKcwOTI/AAAAAAAAFoA/0NPKgfXAlsc/s1600/Natalia%2BSancha%2B1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tqQLnRQf4f4/Vdm7wKcwOTI/AAAAAAAAFoA/0NPKgfXAlsc/s640/Natalia%2BSancha%2B1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">"Trash protest turns onto first non-sectarian demonstration in Lebanon in a decade. 22nd August 2015"</span><br />
<a href="http://www.nataliasancha.com/youstinkdemoBEY22082015/index.html" style="font-size: 12.8px;" target="_blank">©Natalia Sancha</a></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GVx5j-FCif0/Vdm7wDhUv-I/AAAAAAAAFn8/PYI0hGflDsY/s1600/Natalia%2BSancha%2B3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GVx5j-FCif0/Vdm7wDhUv-I/AAAAAAAAFn8/PYI0hGflDsY/s640/Natalia%2BSancha%2B3.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">"Trash protest turns onto first non-sectarian demonstration in Lebanon in a decade. 22nd August 2015"</span><br />
<a href="http://www.nataliasancha.com/youstinkdemoBEY22082015/index.html" style="font-size: 12.8px;" target="_blank">©Natalia Sancha</a></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-19NyMRsWD30/Vdm7wGJsrzI/AAAAAAAAFoE/xoraQZ2Anno/s1600/Natalia%2BSancha%2B5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-19NyMRsWD30/Vdm7wGJsrzI/AAAAAAAAFoE/xoraQZ2Anno/s640/Natalia%2BSancha%2B5.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Trash protest turns onto first non-sectarian demonstration in Lebanon in a decade. 22nd August 2015"<br />
<a href="http://www.nataliasancha.com/youstinkdemoBEY22082015/index.html" style="font-size: 12.8px;" target="_blank">©Natalia Sancha</a></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7o30DqRTYYc/Vdm7xIh-RtI/AAAAAAAAFoU/29w99OeI4MU/s1600/Natalia%2BSancha%2B8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7o30DqRTYYc/Vdm7xIh-RtI/AAAAAAAAFoU/29w99OeI4MU/s640/Natalia%2BSancha%2B8.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I have a weakness for the Lebanese Army, but here their faces before a <span class="_50f4">protester who asks if that bullet is yours...."<br />
<span style="font-size: 12.8px;"><a href="http://www.nataliasancha.com/youstinkdemoBEY22082015/index.html" target="_blank">©Natalia Sancha</a></span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UWs69SWM72U/Vdm_G91nZSI/AAAAAAAAFpA/OVInuamS-7I/s1600/Nadim%2BKamel%2B1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="332" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UWs69SWM72U/Vdm_G91nZSI/AAAAAAAAFpA/OVInuamS-7I/s640/Nadim%2BKamel%2B1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Protesters holding their hands up in a show of non-violence after the soldiers started opening fire.<br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/spineduke?fref=ts" style="font-size: 12.8px;" target="_blank">©Nadim Kamel</a></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-010O55frdVU/Vdm_WtWT_eI/AAAAAAAAFpI/1y1RoVjoj0U/s1600/Rimal%2BAbeed%2B3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-010O55frdVU/Vdm_WtWT_eI/AAAAAAAAFpI/1y1RoVjoj0U/s640/Rimal%2BAbeed%2B3.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/Ral.58?fref=ts" style="font-size: 12.8px;" target="_blank">©Rimal Abeed</a></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AndzyDS30FA/Vdm_YGOw5II/AAAAAAAAFpU/-ElAdHznwLo/s1600/Rimal%2BAbeed%2B1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AndzyDS30FA/Vdm_YGOw5II/AAAAAAAAFpU/-ElAdHznwLo/s640/Rimal%2BAbeed%2B1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/Ral.58?fref=ts" style="font-size: 12.8px;" target="_blank">©Rimal Abeed</a></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sY-uvPaNEa0/Vdm_X7aAJeI/AAAAAAAAFpQ/BZAXyKZqd-g/s1600/Rimal%2BAbeed%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sY-uvPaNEa0/Vdm_X7aAJeI/AAAAAAAAFpQ/BZAXyKZqd-g/s640/Rimal%2BAbeed%2B2.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/Ral.58?fref=ts" style="font-size: 12.8px;" target="_blank">©Rimal Abeed</a></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-K62Ks2h0f0Y/VdnJPvAQDTI/AAAAAAAAFpw/pqm9Kf58ISk/s1600/RolandRagi_20150822_E0A8153.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="479" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-K62Ks2h0f0Y/VdnJPvAQDTI/AAAAAAAAFpw/pqm9Kf58ISk/s640/RolandRagi_20150822_E0A8153.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No Comment<br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/roland.ragi" target="_blank">©Roland Ragi</a></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6L9roZUpUXc/VdnJRMkDCkI/AAAAAAAAFp8/Wv7L7gFDrZI/s1600/RolandRagi_20150822_E0A8423.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6L9roZUpUXc/VdnJRMkDCkI/AAAAAAAAFp8/Wv7L7gFDrZI/s640/RolandRagi_20150822_E0A8423.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Protesters creating a human wall to try and stop or at least slow down the armed forces from shooting at the crowds.<br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/roland.ragi" style="font-size: 12.8px;" target="_blank">©Roland Ragi</a></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-q6ybflJmD9g/VdnJRDN_JvI/AAAAAAAAFp4/JN6lwvW8lf8/s1600/RolandRagi_20150822_E0A8696.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-q6ybflJmD9g/VdnJRDN_JvI/AAAAAAAAFp4/JN6lwvW8lf8/s640/RolandRagi_20150822_E0A8696.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Protesters Saluting the Lebanese Armed forces with the National Anthem<br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/roland.ragi" style="font-size: 12.8px;" target="_blank">©Roland Ragi</a></td></tr>
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Natheer H.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15729982354247534337noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5730933840732264230.post-81475987256587066792015-07-18T11:04:00.004+03:002015-07-18T11:04:48.921+03:00Clowns for a Cause<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><p>Waking up today after -finally- a decent sleep shaking off the thrill of the last two days has left me in such an awe, not realizing anytime before the amount of encouragement we are receiving, the thumbs up and the curious ones wanting openly to join us next time. Long story short, as an immediate result of my early morning sluggishness, we had decided, we as in a bunch of fellow white-hearted friends, to carry on the clown flashmob habit that started in 2013 by Mutaz Salloum, as a concrete reaction to the horrible tremor that was taking place in Jabal Mohsen & Tebbaneh, both of which areas now are thankfully in a state of peace after a political resolute earlier last year. We invaded both towns regardless of the warnings and all the threats. They were a blast, a total success.</p><br />
Fast forward to 2015, Maya Abas and a bunch of enthusiasts that gathered from all over the country, literally, had also taken their toll on both Haret el Tanak (literally the tin neighborhood) and Dahr el Moghor, both being some of the most underprivileged parts of the town, with little-to-no infrastructure, a higher margin of felonies and a continuous degradation of their inhabitants by -mostly- nonchalant politicians and their entourage.<br />
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I still rub my eyes not believing such people exist, those who came from Hermel, Beirut, Southern Lebanon, journalists, engineers, activists, mere students too, both Sunni and Shiaa Muslim, Christian and atheist, all in the name of spreading joy and never caring about labels. All of this wouldn't have happened to be honest, if it weren't for Maya Abas and her endless passion, and to her I'm nothing but thankful.<br />
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I leave you now with some footage of what happened yesterday.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-f084mXdyboI/VaoHFwcRyxI/AAAAAAAAFhw/_UREcQcTU_U/s1600/10386265_10155805537485284_2300296631215492229_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-f084mXdyboI/VaoHFwcRyxI/AAAAAAAAFhw/_UREcQcTU_U/s640/10386265_10155805537485284_2300296631215492229_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo taken in Dahr el Moghor, courtesy of Maya</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uBJe4-RBw4E/VaoHFR1MJyI/AAAAAAAAFho/MkyNo5QvRFE/s1600/10424346_10155805466195284_4463932289308516121_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uBJe4-RBw4E/VaoHFR1MJyI/AAAAAAAAFho/MkyNo5QvRFE/s640/10424346_10155805466195284_4463932289308516121_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Courtesy of Mourad</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9unnZmV9tog/VaoHOvT4mOI/AAAAAAAAFh4/A13zeFV5tZY/s1600/11015428_10206065199643054_7847090580397054599_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="362" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9unnZmV9tog/VaoHOvT4mOI/AAAAAAAAFh4/A13zeFV5tZY/s640/11015428_10206065199643054_7847090580397054599_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Courtesy of Bilal</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eLrCyDcMInM/VaoHPCsL4GI/AAAAAAAAFiA/iBrbRvgvliw/s1600/11057749_10155805532645284_6636188664404211928_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eLrCyDcMInM/VaoHPCsL4GI/AAAAAAAAFiA/iBrbRvgvliw/s640/11057749_10155805532645284_6636188664404211928_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Courtesy of Maya</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zW9Ty14UA9E/VaoHJOmE5hI/AAAAAAAAFh0/d7XAfe3J7sU/s1600/11174976_1712297838999003_5859277496246381113_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zW9Ty14UA9E/VaoHJOmE5hI/AAAAAAAAFh0/d7XAfe3J7sU/s640/11174976_1712297838999003_5859277496246381113_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Courtesy of Akil</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PJwuB4hKD-M/VaoHQRKzJ3I/AAAAAAAAFiM/4AV0KUTFDGc/s1600/11695869_10155805536650284_1793475204831923760_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PJwuB4hKD-M/VaoHQRKzJ3I/AAAAAAAAFiM/4AV0KUTFDGc/s640/11695869_10155805536650284_1793475204831923760_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Courtesy of Maya</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Courtesy of Mourad</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Courtesy of Mourad</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Courtesy of Mourad</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Courtesy of Maya</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Courtesy of Akil</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div>Natheer H.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15729982354247534337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5730933840732264230.post-4749340732246132092015-06-20T22:10:00.002+03:002016-10-18T21:32:29.596+03:00Final Fantasy 7 Remake (and the big fuss about it)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Last week has been phenomenal to say the least, to all veteran gamers out there, especially my generation. Throats were burning with screams of disbelief, eyes were tearing down and hands were trembling and waving all at once, and for a very good reason. Final Fantasy VII, the legend of all video games, the masterpiece that was once what all young men and women were busy with ever since its release on PC in 1997, will witness the dreadfully-long-awaited remake in 2015-2016, using top notch technology with unbeatable graphics and the ever-reputable soundtrack scores.</div>
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What's with all the fuss about Final Fantasy VII though? Let me break it down for you.</div>
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It won't take a lot of google to know that FF7 is by far <a href="http://www.gamespot.com/articles/the-greatest-games-of-all-time-final-fantasy-vii/1100-6155700/" target="_blank">The Greatest Game of All Time</a> and that is for very specific reasons. The operatic, labyrinthine and often wonderfully weird tale of eco-minded heroes out to save their living planet from corporate energy raiders proved the most popular in the series, selling over <a href="http://techland.time.com/2012/11/15/all-time-100-video-games/slide/final-fantasy-vii-1997/" target="_blank">10 million copies worldwide</a> and raising the bar for all games of that era, and the ones to come. <a href="http://www.gamespot.com/articles/the-greatest-games-of-all-time-final-fantasy-vii/1100-6155700/" target="_blank">The Final Fantasy series</a> is one of the most significant franchises in video game history, responsible for numerous games that were both profound and critically adored. The series is also a veritable road map for how console role-playing games have progressed through multiple console generations. Though fans of the franchise will argue until the last breath about which of the many great Final Fantasy games is the best, the name that frequently rises to the top of those discussions is the franchise's most influential game, Final Fantasy VII.</div>
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Reasons for that can be elaborated with ease:</div>
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<li style="text-align: justify;">The Story: FF7 has by far the best, most captivating story ever embedded in a video game. The game juggles the player along the threads of love and hate, passion and desire, anger and affection, and the list goes on. If there's anything the makers of FF7 have excelled with, it would definitely be the story.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LiAWP_mcIzY" target="_blank">The Music:</a> Anything from the opening music, to the in-game sound clips, the redundantly joyful scores and to the fighting music, the overall operatically enchanting scores of FF7 left an eternal trace in the video games industry. Composed and produced by the renowned <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nobuo_Uematsu" target="_blank">Nobuo Uematsu</a>, who had chosen MIDI as format for the music at the time, the FF7 scores were arranged and played by an orchestra. The original music received highly positive reviews from critics, who found many of the tunes to be memorable and noted the emotional intensity of several of the tracks. Many tracks were also performed individually in concerts and have been highly appraised.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">The Characters: I would definitely confess the team who has done the effort to design and create all those characters is a team of all-stars, champs of their time. Starting out with the main character, Cloud Strife.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">The Graphics/Cinematics: The game's true wealth, and the most visual one, is no doubt in the graphics, and more importantly the cinematics for the time. FF7 made its debut on PC CD-Roms with fully-designed 3D characters on pre-rendered backgrounds. But it is arguably the FMV (Full Motion Videos) cinematics that are most often remembered, the length and power of which gave Final Fantasy VII its potency, and it's what remains at the core of its legacy even now.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">The Mini-Games/Quests.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">The World.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">The Gameplay/Mechanics.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">CHOCOBOS!</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">And the list goes on.</li>
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And if that is not enough to realize how impeccably galatically Final Fantasy major was, check this out. Recognized by fans the world over, Final Fantasy VII frequently graces the top of "fan favorites" lists, including the reader-driven GameFAQs' Best Character, Best Villain, and Best Game Ever summer poll contests, which have had Cloud Strife, Sephiroth, and Final Fantasy VII coming in at the top of their respective categories year after year. Square Enix, too, recognizes the series' potential and has built an entire universe of games around Final Fantasy VII. The Compilation of Final Fantasy VII consists of spin-off games in the same universe on a host of different platforms, as well as the Final Fantasy VII movie, Advent Children. There's no game that has a better chance of success than Final Fantasy VII, as it's the first franchise to kick off Square Enix's new experimental concept of "polymorphic content."</div>
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That is definitely - to me at least - what makes Final Fantasy VII the game of the century.</div>
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Jumping back to days ago when Square Enix rocked the entire world of RPG gaming and the entire fanbase of Final Fantasy world by intriguingly putting it to the world in a very theatrical and well played manner for the level of its audience: The Final Fantasy VII Remake is Officially Confirmed, bashing out all those who have been booing down the game along the years claiming the hopes of all fans to remain as merely dreams, and most importantly, reviving the hope of thousands and thousands of those teenage fans who grew up now 18 years later to become adults totally losing it at the E3 announcement after they have been, for years, secretly wishing for a Remake of the game that marked history for them. (I have personally seen the clip over 10 times, I still believe it's a sort of a dream).</div>
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I personally can never forget the endless nights I spent playing the game, the times I forgot to eat and the quests I would just take for the sake of filling up that insatiable satisfaction meter of mine at the time. </div>
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As you may have expected, that whole generation of gamers all over the world had the eyes fixed to their screens while Sony was announcing the remake. I myself was close to flipping the desk off if it hadn't my laptop resting on it back then, goosebumps all over my body and eyes filling up with water, can never deny that at all. Feeling still in shock of what I had seen I ran out to YouTube to try and tap the waters, see if I was the only one. Here's some of what I have found:<br />
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As one Square Enix's Final Fantasy producer Yoshinori Kitase had declared earlier in 2014, and <a href="http://www.eurogamer.net/articles/2014-02-17-a-chat-about-that-final-fantasy-7-remake" target="_blank">I quote</a>:<br />
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“But should I ever take it on, it would have to be the biggest project I’ve done. My life work. So I would have to be as highly motivated as that to end up with something I’m very happy with. It’s a huge thing for me.”</blockquote>
I guess my work is done here, I'll just leave you to some of the reactions for what followed the announcement. </div>
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Natheer H.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15729982354247534337noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5730933840732264230.post-2451271580340787452015-05-07T21:01:00.001+03:002015-05-10T11:05:31.875+03:00Harout<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Do you know that instant in which something is happening when all of a sudden you realize that this, in fact, is yet another unforgettable incident? You know that moment when you get goose bumps because you know, in the speck of that instant, that you’re on the verge of learning your next life lesson? Do you know what it feels like to see, touch and live a history book?<br />
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He held my hand so tight and didn't let go until he had finished talking. He uttered the words "your mother, your mother, your mother, your mother and then your father". His stuttering was the wake-up call that changed what that day was initially supposed to be.</div>
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I was asked by a close friend to join him along at his grandpa's place and take a few portraits. I admit, I was moved by his initiative especially that I knew my friend well, and this just proved to me that what I had in mind about him was true: he's this compassionate creature that yearns to mark a trace in this disturbed world of ours. He had felt that his grandfather was feeling pretty low and uneasy, thought that a friend coming over with a camera in hand would cheer him up a tad. And so it happened.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Harout and Sevoog striking a pose.</td></tr>
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His keys wouldn't unlock the main gate, it’s why he had to forcefully ring the bell and call out for Harout, his grandfather. That was when I first spotted the old man: A very handsome senior with an arching back and a wonderful, welcoming smile. He opened the door for us, greeted me in Arabic and asked for some time to put on his "teeth", all the while my friend was translating to me their conversation in Armenian. That time was enough for me to settle down in the living room and speculate the environment: the vintagey scent was enough to tell me what a treasure I had just found. The place was a tiny apartment, barely large enough for a couple, filled with old books perfectly sorted out on shelves throughout the flat. Each and every one of these books had their own stories to tell, obviously.</div>
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Sevoog, namely blacky in Armenian, his snobby cat with the arrogant looks stepped inside what seemed to be his territory, and myself being the intruder he was staring at, head to toe. In very loose and relaxed movements, he strolled around me marking his territory, telling me I’m in his kingdom, and showed me who’s boss around here. Sevoog seemed to be the only comforter of a lonely old man whose children pass by to check on every now and then. The cat was my little moments of entertainment before Harout came back with a tray of soda in his hands. It seems he regretted that I had took off my shoes, something perhaps unusual for him to have in his house. My friend and I rushed to take the cups so that he could relax and, personally, it was time for me to plunge in action.</div>
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At first, Nareg was a bit tentative to ask me to pay that visit. Little did he know about my timeless craving for shooting older people’s faces. The faces, the wrinkles, the fading smiles and the arching backs, each tells a story as vast as their lifetime. My intuition didn't fail me that afternoon; it was one out-of-this-world meeting. I was warned however, warned of the fact that I should avoid discussing the wife's passing away a few months ago. He was so attached to her, I was told, and the slightest memory could bring him down all over again. Little did I know that this woman had left us merely a couple months back, meant the world to this lonely man. This man who himself, surely feels as if he were left behind in this world, no matter how surrounded with people and faces it may seem to be. His courteous yet sad smile says it all: he had no reason to live anymore, or that’s what he might have been thinking indeed.</div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">Just as any other Lebanese would treat their new guest, Harout started, with his rugged Arabic, a conversation through which he inquired about my job - whether I was happy with what I was doing at the moment. He was so courteous and well-mannered that I eventually felt home. It wasn't much before the conversation took a turn I hadn't foreseen. Harout found no other way but to lure me into talking about his deceased soulmate, his one and only companion, the colors of his life and the only person he had ever needed - it was all gone now. It felt like this was basically all he really wanted to talk about. For a split second it definitely felt like he was pulling out those emotions, the emotions he had stacked down the whole time, his way of avoiding the horrible shadow of old memories still present in each corner of that tiny house. His wife was literally everywhere, she was waving through the grains of dust covering that library, she was in the frames of every photo. She was doing the dishes and cleaning the bedroom, leaping around fixing this and tidying that, she was the one teaching Harout how to offer Soda to their guests. She was the smile that was taken away once and for all.</span><br />
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During the course of our conversation, I couldn't but exchange a few warm looks with Nareg, standing a couple feet across his grandpa looking at this old man like he had never done before. Harout is the kindest person I had ever met; he was literally apologizing for his heavy Armenian accent, his inability to move freely and be a better host, and what he considered to be a messy living room. I was smiling all along; what was happening that moment couldn't have been matched with anything truer that this. It was those moments when he spoke of his late wife, his smile was enough to brighten the corner of his house, the house that was somewhat shaded by the surrounding century-old trees.<br />
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In a sort of unexpected turn of events, I found us talking about my parents. Off the top of my head I started telling him of their divorce, of how I became man of the house at a young age, etc... He couldn't resist smiling and in no time reached out to hold my hand. I, all astonished, willingly stretched my arm and gave in my hand, waiting to see what Harout has in store for me. He grabbed it so firm that I instantly knew he meant business. He iterated the word "your mother" in Arabic four times before he mentioned my father. It was his gentle smile that was telling me not to hold any grudges at him, and to always reserve some space for love in my heart, not to hate anybody, for hate kills only its bearer. The look in his eyes was simply unforgettable. I asked his permission to take a photo, and here it was: A history changing photo.<br />
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In a split-second I started thinking to myself about how profoundly humane this person was, how kind and soft, how beautiful inside and out. He is a man of love and peace, and, asking around, found that he has been this man for his entire life, not only after his wife passed away. It was no wonder that this woman had fallen so madly and fondly in love with such a man at the time. In fact, he told me the story of how he met her, and of all the small things that make it story the most mundanely beautiful fairy tale ever.<br />
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Words were lazily pouring out of his lips describing how clear the images still were, even though he was as young as 7 years old back then. Harout was among the many refugees who had to flee Armenia during the war, and had found himself in Lebanon after his parents managed to smuggle him out. He was literally homeless back then, the reason why he eventually became an apprentice to the local butcher, turning the butchery into his home for some coming many years. He was eventually introduced to that butcher’s niece, Harout’s wife soon after. There is one way to putting it, Harout started out of nothing, literally nothing, no money, no parents, nothing; having his wife by his side was the first pillar into stepping foot in this life. They both managed to establish what can be called a prosperous life, a house and family even with the extremely few resources they had. That was the same house he had lived in since then, the same district in which he grew up, the one in which he learned most of the skills he knows today. It's as if Armenia street in Beirut was his world - everything he knew. It's as if all the scents he knew, all the colors he’d touched, all the tongues he’d heard and all the emotions he had danced with, existed only in that narrow street. It’s as if the only thing that was missing to remind him how tough life is, was the day when his wife, the mother and grandmother of so many beautiful souls, went into a coma 15 years ago, the coma that she strong-willingly fought and managed to wake up from against all odds. It wasn't until a handful 13 years later when it was time to say one last goodbye; all those struggles and fights with diseases have taken their toll on her in the end and Harout was left stranded there all by himself.<br />
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All of the above narration was written two years ago, right after I had met with Harout in 2013 during easter. Now that I had left the country, it was time to give Nareg one Skype call to catch up on things and learn how Harout's been doing lately. I couldn't be any happier: right in the middle of my call I learn that Harout is now one fully-loaded active old man, as never before. I guess we, the younger generations, still have got a lot to learn along the way. Here's to love and humanity.</div>
Natheer H.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15729982354247534337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5730933840732264230.post-14392680400046922862015-04-11T14:15:00.000+03:002015-04-13T08:58:51.293+03:00Travel on budget: My take on Couchsurfing<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by Globotreks.com</td></tr>
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I had never seen it coming, in the middle of my chaotic arrangements prior to moving to UAE, that my few-years-old couchsurfing account would be one of the main factors for making it easier for me to enjoy it out there in the desert. Ras al Khaimah, the place I’m living in, is one of those lazy towns with moderate infrastructure, a few malls here and there, a fraction of the amount of cars/people you’d see in Dubai, and a whole lot of senior westerners and young expats, who thought it’s best to move to such a town, away from the extravaganza of Dubai, its horrible traffic and its insanely high real estate prices.<br />
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I might be mistaken to assume the whole world knows what couchsurfing is. Here’s a summary, as found on the <a href="http://about.couchsurfing.com/about" target="_blank">website’s </a>about section:<br />
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We envision a world made better by travel and travel made richer by connection. Couchsurfers share their lives with the people they encounter, fostering cultural exchange and mutual respect. </blockquote>
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<b><span style="color: orange;">Travel the world</span></b><br />
With Couchsurfing, you can stay with locals in every country on earth. Travel like a local, stay in someone's home and experience the world in a way money can't buy. </blockquote>
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<b><span style="color: orange;">Rediscover your city</span></b><br />
There's a community of Couchsurfers near you. Many cities have weekly language exchanges, dance classes, hikes and dinners. Make new friends. </blockquote>
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<b><span style="color: orange;">Become a host</span></b><br />
Give back and open your home to travelers. Learn about a new culture first-hand or practice a language. Make the world a little smaller; a little friendlier.</blockquote>
Did I mention it's also <i>FREE</i>?<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The note I found at my door right after Piet and Jorien left my place.</td></tr>
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In short, couchsurfing is your ticket to travelling the world without a single weary thought of how much you’d have to spend in motels. All it takes is basic ethics, common decency, some manners and big ass smile wherever you step foot at.<br />
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It wasn't long after I signed my rental contract that I got my first couchsurfing request in the emirates, it was Cyrill from Switzerland, the guy who’s taking a year off to finalize some pending projects and to discover himself by travelling to that part of the world, completely alone.<br />
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As an absolute introvert who made his way through this busy world that always manages to push you into spotlight with so many drawbacks and psychological repercussions, couchsurfing was absolutely one of the very few things that I ever did in my life, that provided me with the suitable environment to step out of my comfort zone, and see the whole world in that tiny spot I call my couch, all while helping me break down some of the ice that built up over the years, and giving me the superpower of being able to fully finish a conversation with somebody I never met before without that usually-awkward feeling. And for that, I’m nothing but thankful.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cyrill upon leaving the apartment a while ago.</td></tr>
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Portugal, Switzerland, Poland, Morocco, France, Egypt, Belgium, Slovakia, Greece, Netherlands, and the list goes on. I've visited more countries in a few months than I could ever manage to visit in a year or two, and it just leave me in a huge awe. My house is a relatively large studio, which confines both my privacy/freedom and that of anybody I'm hosting. It's why I always tell I'm hosting for one night only, but always, always, end up offering them to stay another night.<br />
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What's even more heartwarming is their gifts. Anything from chocolate bars to airline pins, from turkish delights to a piece of handwriting on my door, it all feels so damn worth.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hernani Cardoso showing me the path he'll be taking after leaving my place</td></tr>
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To my surprise though, and after all that time and all the friends I have made, I realized one thing: I have never been a surfer myself before. I knew it's a totally different thing, I knew being a good host myself, with all the benefits that come with it, is not even nearly the same thing as being a surfer. However though, the world has its own way of matching things together, always. One day I found myself having to go to Dubai to shoot a concert that won't end before midnight, when there's obviously no buses to take me back to my place. I called out for all my friends and acquaintances over there but there was not a single confirmation. I was so close to either letting go of that concert or having to spend a fortune on taxis. It wasn't long before it hit me, and the next day I was couchsurfing at Fabien's place in Dubai, the French pilot who's recently joined CS. Funny enough, just like it was my first time surfing, it was his first time hosting!<br />
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They are cycling the world, sightseeing, travelling on low/zero budget, a family trying to enjoy their time together, seeing the world through a different perspective, talking to total strangers, renting a car around, they all manage to leave me in awe. There's so many times I wished I could just leave it all and be like Hernani, the 54-yr old Portuguese cyclist who sold everything he owned and decided he wanted to return a bicycle to his friend in china. Or like Konstantinos, the 50-something yr old greek cyclist, who got fed up of it all and decided to cycle to India. Or that Polish girl, K, who thought one day to leave everything that was providing her peace and comfort and hit the road around this part of the world. Or probably that family who constantly looks out for the cheapest tickets, and with full trust in the world, they just land there. The stories are endless, and I can't wait to see who's to step foot in my place in the future, and what kind of magic they have to their stories.<br />
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Couchsurfing in a way is a sort of a befriending machine, they step in your house total strangers, next thing you know you’re hugging your friends goodbye, not knowing when’s the time to meet again, nor even where.<br />
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All in all, I can't but feel utterly happy to know that, people, somewhere over there, are working hard to make this happen, to break all borders, to incorporate some positiveness in this world by making it easy for people to travel, make new friends, exchange experiences and inadvertently book yourself a place you're welcome, in the country of this or that couchsurfer, something you can't find anywhere else.<br />
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Here's to couchsurfing, and all you surfers and hosts out there.<br />
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Natheer H.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15729982354247534337noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5730933840732264230.post-85189279411847215672014-12-30T11:18:00.001+02:002014-12-30T12:44:15.154+02:00A Whitehearted Deed: What Fadi, Ali and Ibrahim did in Trablos<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I'm getting more and more comfortable with the short, spontaneous, snappy, out of the blog's original context sort-of-posts. This one was triggered by none other than my fellow Tripolitan, <a href="https://www.facebook.com/fadi.mikati?fref=ts" target="_blank">Fadi Mikati</a>, who's done something quite incredible. Actually, the simple fact that he actually "did" something is remarkable enough.<br />
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On a lazy December Friday, he seems to have stumbled on another hideous scene on one of our hometown's streets. He was fed up with what he saw, and felt the rushing urge to say something, well do something as a matter of fact. One thing lead to the other and BAM; there he was announcing on his FB profile that he'll be cleaning the street, claiming he can never tolerate to have encountered that amount of repulsiveness, to have expressed a growing scale of disgust, watching his town turning into a populated landfill.<br />
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10154926617850459&set=a.10153074515965459.1073741826.627495458&type=1">Post</a> by <a href="https://www.facebook.com/fadi.mikati">Fadi Mikati</a>.</div>
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It wasn't long before Fadi's request got the appropriate praise and cheering, all while the same post managed to gather the first two volunteers, Ibrahim and Ali, who probably saw in the move a necessary step to take. What I love about that tiny/big event is so many aspects. Starting with the authenticity and spontaneity of the call, to the speed things were taking shape and the fact that those guys never minded the pouring rain on top of their heads. All it took was two days for the guys to be hitting the road with their tools and acting as promised. Litter was picked up eventually no matter how bad the weather was, and street ended up being a tad cleaner, actually a lot, based on my comparison to the pictures.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Left to right: Ibrahim, Fadi and Ali, as caught during their cleaning spree. Courtesy of Ziad Sankari</td></tr>
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One more little thing to add, and it's been what hit my mind and what I personally had to deal with in the past: Imagine these guys, and oh-so-many others who get involved in personal wake up calls like such, who actually are doers in a way, the moment they are wearing their suits or so engaged in their universities and commonly everyday work fields. Imagine them getting so boxed up like everybody else out there, following the path of what their career had drawn for them by shifting up their ego to a point where, bowing down to pick up other people's litter is totally out of question. Measure that to a parent/lawyer giving out free hugs to random stranger, to a journalist singing and dancing in the middle of the road, to a student drawing graffitis after hours, to an engineer performing ballet. And the list goes on.<br />
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10154934038325459&set=a.10153074515965459.1073741826.627495458&type=1">Post</a> by <a href="https://www.facebook.com/fadi.mikati">Fadi Mikati</a>.</div>
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All at the same time, though, Tripoli has got to be one tough-ass lucky town to have people like Fadi, Ali, Ibrahim and all those lovely souls still hanging in there. Too bad media has gotten so used to slipping Tripoli out of their glam events map, but I got to admit (and I've been physically there too), Trablos is slowly shifting from being a town previously in hideous war, to a continuously glowing hub for all the "extra-curricular" (so to speak) initiatives you might ever think of in the Lebanese society.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Caught in action, by Ziad Sankari.</td></tr>
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I'm not personally going to elaborate on what's taking place in my hometown right now, but I feel I have the duty to push you and check for yourself. Starting from Beit El Nessim, to Al Kindy, and so on and so forth. The list goes on forever. And it's all thanks to Fadi to have pushed me to write this today, I've been feeling homesick for quite some time and seeing their work have given me some energy for the coming days.<br />
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Let's have the guts one day to admit how careless we've become, relying on this cleaning worker to pick up our litter or that consciousness to calm down 5 minutes later. Streets won't clean themselves, hiding behind useless excuses and irrelevant arguments won't do neither. It's time we felt responsible for our own carelessness when it comes to public hygiene. And as Fadi had said "Getting yourself or your car cleaned with that piece of tissue doesn't give you the right to litter outside".<br />
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I believe Fadi and the guys have taught us one major lesson here, "It's okay to pick up garbage, even if it's not your own".<br />
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Here's to a cleaner Tripoli.<br />
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Natheer H.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15729982354247534337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5730933840732264230.post-1341982584990027292014-11-12T21:57:00.000+02:002014-11-12T21:59:06.180+02:003ayune Workshop, of photography and unearthed hopes.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nshlHQG4C5k/VFracAyb2-I/AAAAAAAAFBo/bvhtP3huROU/s1600/D7K_7100.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nshlHQG4C5k/VFracAyb2-I/AAAAAAAAFBo/bvhtP3huROU/s1600/D7K_7100.jpg" height="422" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<p>It wasn't until I had met Oriol that Wednesday in Gemmayze that I realized I’m finally going to teach photography in a refugee camp, the thing I had been dearly hoping to do, especially that my life was going to take a drastic turn. “Well of course you were accepted”, the words that made that day unforgettable found their way at last from his lips and to my heart. Despite of all that was going on with both my professional and personal life, all had to be put on hold for I was going on an unforgettable one-month trip that will manage to remain deep dug on my heart.</p><blockquote class="tr_bq"><i>Two professional photographers provided training in basic digital photography to 92 children aged between 12 and 16 for a period of seven months. Among the beneficiaries, 46 are Syrian refugees and 46 from Lebanese host community families. In addition to developing the photography skills of the children, the program engendered in the children an appreciation of art and provided a productive outlet of self-expression through photography. 3ayune also created a channel of communication and constructive dialogue between the Syrian refugee and Lebanese host communities.</i></blockquote>Thanks and a lot more go to my friend Diaa, the one who keeps showering me with opportunities whenever she stumbles on one. It was all because of her that, on the 10th of August 2014 I was moving to a village in northern Lebanon – Kobayat – to live there for a month. That same village was the closest and safest village/town to Wadi Khaled, where the workshops were planned to take place. Once settled down, it was about time to come down to earth and realize what was to go on in the coming thirty days: the ups and downs, tears and laughs, frustrations and achievements, all were in store for us, me and Elsie and the rest of the team, something we never signed up for, yet enjoyed the most.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2IpgVglpP28/VFraj-zKC0I/AAAAAAAAFBw/_1T6eVNeULw/s1600/D7K_7059.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2IpgVglpP28/VFraj-zKC0I/AAAAAAAAFBw/_1T6eVNeULw/s1600/D7K_7059.jpg" height="200" width="131" /></a></div>No matter how enchanting it all seemed for a while, a long while, facts were still there, I was about to let go of a promising career in engineering for that workshop, a workshop right on the infamous northern border of the country, literally minutes away from clashes, for a chance to teach over 40 kids something usually never comes to mind for a refugee or a person living on the edge of his own country, by all meanings. Yet I was there already and holding on to that chance as if it were my own salvation, as if that was exactly what I had needed at the time. In fact, going through an intensive photography workshop right before leaving the country was one remarkable thing to have done: it was the last taste in my mouth of Lebanon. The faces every morning, the mid-day lunch break, the smiles and the laughs, the tea and those particular days that only seemed to be endless, Elsie and I complaining to each other about this or that specific kid, Georgina struggling to keep it all in order... it all paid off eventually.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-R1yRvdUU84g/VGO7IPASlQI/AAAAAAAAFFA/is1Wm30v8CQ/s1600/IMG-20140821-WA0003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-R1yRvdUU84g/VGO7IPASlQI/AAAAAAAAFFA/is1Wm30v8CQ/s400/IMG-20140821-WA0003.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gorgeous people, those who made my month unforgettable</td></tr>
</tbody></table>It was only the first two days that needed to witness a sort of turmoil, things needed to be arranged before a never-ever-dull kind of daily routine started taking shape. Starting with the next door manouche shop where our team would gather to fuel up and get ready for the day, then with the eternally bumpy car rides where, each and every single day further on, the amount of bumps just seemed to be growing on and on! Up to that army checkpoint where we’d have to be stopped, checked and our names taken for intelligence registration.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7-mP7MQUNAU/VFra7GV3_qI/AAAAAAAAFB4/Lp1ee7j3_Xk/s1600/D7K_7057.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7-mP7MQUNAU/VFra7GV3_qI/AAAAAAAAFB4/Lp1ee7j3_Xk/s1600/D7K_7057.jpg" height="211" width="320" /></a></div>It only took the kids some little time to know ahead of time the exact minute we’d be there on a daily basis, to find them gathering outside expecting us any second then. I still remember that morning freshness of Wadi Khaled the moment we’d step out of the car, the chilliness seemed to be so different from Qobayat or anywhere else. Their glaring faces against the morning sun would give us all the needed energy to go on with another day, especially when the workshop was coming to an end.<br />
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It filled my heart to see them grow up, evolve and grow bonds together. Their photography skills have surely shaped up really well, compared to when we first stepped foot there. Yet the bonds they have created out of nothing have broken all known taboos, from breaking gender segregation, to freely dancing in front of each other, performing acting sessions, growing enough self-esteem to simply stand up in front of everybody, raise their voice and express themselves on several occasions.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rUkhn5PFpRM/VFrbBQZ262I/AAAAAAAAFCA/MaIvH2M-U1k/s1600/D7K_7944.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rUkhn5PFpRM/VFrbBQZ262I/AAAAAAAAFCA/MaIvH2M-U1k/s1600/D7K_7944.jpg" height="422" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">During one of the classes about light painting.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I was thinking to myself this morning of how much lucky I am to have stumbled on photography. Eventually, I was offered through photography priceless chances way more than I have ever gotten through all other domains I was involved in, all put together. The simple fact that I was given the title of a photography instructor, for a group of 50 kids for 4 weeks was absolutely a crossroads in my life, both work and personal, something that I hadn't realized until recently.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-D32qQXH_nDw/VFrbKs-37NI/AAAAAAAAFCI/D2zIg-6mpgA/s1600/D7K_8662.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-D32qQXH_nDw/VFrbKs-37NI/AAAAAAAAFCI/D2zIg-6mpgA/s1600/D7K_8662.jpg" height="422" width="640" /></a></div><br />
And finally, Cives Mundi, the spanish NGO given the shore of implementing this workshop, are organizing their second - and biggest - exhibition for 3ayune workshop. This is an open invitation to you all, to step foot there and check these little guys' work, to have a glimpse on their life, to really touch and feel what it's like to be living off there, whether refugee or resident. <a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/721971241230093/?notif_t=plan_user_invited" target="_blank">Exhibition</a> was launched on November 7th 2014 till the 21st, at the Art Lounge in Beirut, near Quarantine bridge.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rania giving her speech to the audience at the inauguration ceremony</td></tr>
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</div></div><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/3EeUOW3klpU" width="640"></iframe></div>Natheer H.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15729982354247534337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5730933840732264230.post-73624092471178275022014-10-06T00:12:00.001+03:002014-10-06T00:12:29.650+03:00Expats by Choice, Out My Window<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><p>My head shook infinitely that Saturday afternoon, at the sight of the beach that my small balcony overlooks to, having changed color or so I thought. The noise/garbage covering the Arabian Gulf's surface seemed to be non-static. Within seconds, I managed to grab my camera, fix my tele-zoom lens and started snapping photos. I'm really clueless on what to say, or whether there's anything to say at all, they just kept on going and flowing until it seemed like it was forever. Quite an eccentric gift in my gloomy solitude. Enjoy.</p><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nEZe2sdUdNI/VDGzOd6zFkI/AAAAAAAAE6U/ukeIHMh8RLo/s1600/D7K_9347.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nEZe2sdUdNI/VDGzOd6zFkI/AAAAAAAAE6U/ukeIHMh8RLo/s1600/D7K_9347.jpg" height="422" width="640" /></a></div><br />
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<iframe width="640" height="360" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/XBSKEc6-ARQ" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>Natheer H.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15729982354247534337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5730933840732264230.post-15276093515357972712014-10-04T12:37:00.003+03:002014-10-04T12:39:37.252+03:00Sheepstakingly: How not to be an animal in Eid<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><b>Disclaimer:</b> This post is to shed some light on the way animals are offered, slaughtered during Eid for Muslims and in many occasions for other religions and sects too. This is by far not concerned in discussing anything related to the righteousness, the history, the source or the validity of the mentioned ritual.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo posted originally by <a href="https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10152778285016942&set=a.287934251941.176043.503101941&type=1" target="_blank">Khaled Merheb</a></td></tr>
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<p>I had always been traumatized by the way muslims slaughter poor animals on holy occasions, like Eid Al Adha for instance, under the sole excuse that it’s an Islamic ritual, a praised act by which god would accept your good deeds and wipe away your notorious ones. The simple fact that the tiny goat or that weakly sheep is held down really hard by two, sometimes up to four, strong men mainly holding it by the horn, raising their Allahu Akbar’s and slitting its throat, was just another painful, disgusting, mini-horror movie, every single time. Children’s screams and other people’s loathing makes it all come to sense: something seriously wrong was going on.</p><br />
As a kid growing up in a majorly Islamic community, I was exposed to a lot of the muslim rituals, their habits, the kind of habits very few know the reason why they were practiced, and ever fewer, lest rarely found, those who actually practice them right. I remember running around town looking for butcher shops, where sheep would be gathered in right-now-made barns, sidewalks and pavements would turn into real-life slaughterhouses with strikingly red blood finding its way to the nearest drain hole. I always felt there was something wrong, I had the feeling this is not what was meant by the act of oblation, sacrificing a soul for the one, the supreme authority, the divine entity, for his characters quite contradict what’s being done her, being the merciful and all.<br />
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It was all until yesterday, the evening of Eid Al Adha, with which Muslims end their famous Hajj ritual, and for those who aren’t doing Hajj, they would simply offer their sacrifice whether with sheep, chicken, cows, whatever is within budget. In fact, Muslims, neighbors friends and relatives, tend to compete in who can pay the most money on their sacrificial animal(s): the more money, the merrier of course, and for surely the more divine forgiveness. Yesterday was the night I stumbled on a post on my Facebook timeline by a friend of mine, simply throwing out a 15-min video explicitly showing what was called "the proper halal way” for slaughtering an animal for its meat. I have to admit something here, and with full disregard to what I personally think of killing an animal for its meat or even for the divine benefits of it, I wished this guy was the butcher to provide me with my meat ever since I came to this world. The least to say about that guy is he was merciful. Yes, mercy, the most important thing most Muslims nowadays have come to forget.<br />
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<div id="fb-root"></div><script>(function(d, s, id) { var js, fjs = d.getElementsByTagName(s)[0]; if (d.getElementById(id)) return; js = d.createElement(s); js.id = id; js.src = "//connect.facebook.net/en_US/all.js#xfbml=1"; fjs.parentNode.insertBefore(js, fjs); }(document, 'script', 'facebook-jssdk'));</script><br />
<div class="fb-post" data-href="https://www.facebook.com/bilalghalib/posts/10104370665408303" data-width="466"><div class="fb-xfbml-parse-ignore"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/bilalghalib/posts/10104370665408303">Post</a> by <a href="https://www.facebook.com/bilalghalib">Bilal Ghalib</a>.</div></div><br />
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The guy spoke of white-heartedness, and if I ever were to eat meat slaughtered by somebody, it has to be at least this guy over here.<br />
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Now that you’ve read and seen what it means to properly kill an animal, I want you to watch the following:<br />
<div id="fb-root"></div><script>(function(d, s, id) { var js, fjs = d.getElementsByTagName(s)[0]; if (d.getElementById(id)) return; js = d.createElement(s); js.id = id; js.src = "//connect.facebook.net/en_US/all.js#xfbml=1"; fjs.parentNode.insertBefore(js, fjs); }(document, 'script', 'facebook-jssdk'));</script><br />
<div class="fb-post" data-href="https://www.facebook.com/video.php?v=865325916843163" data-width="466"><div class="fb-xfbml-parse-ignore"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/video.php?v=865325916843163">Post</a> by <a href="https://www.facebook.com/SHEHABNEWS">Shehab News Agency</a>.</div></div><br />
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Again, this post is merely to compare both ways, nothing more, nothing less. If it were to me, however, I would start by slaughtering my ego, by sacrificing my earthly desires, by slitting the throat of what hatred my heart still holds. Eid Mubarak Everybody.</div><div id="fb-root"></div><script>(function(d, s, id) { var js, fjs = d.getElementsByTagName(s)[0]; if (d.getElementById(id)) return; js = d.createElement(s); js.id = id; js.src = "//connect.facebook.net/en_US/all.js#xfbml=1"; fjs.parentNode.insertBefore(js, fjs); }(document, 'script', 'facebook-jssdk'));</script><br />
<div class="fb-post" data-href="https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10152735734510450&set=a.193449750449.168474.744315449&type=1" data-width="466"><div class="fb-xfbml-parse-ignore"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10152735734510450&set=a.193449750449.168474.744315449&type=1">Post</a> by <a href="https://www.facebook.com/mbreich">May Breich</a>.</div></div><br />
</div>Natheer H.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15729982354247534337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5730933840732264230.post-25967769876028898672014-08-08T18:12:00.001+03:002014-08-08T22:05:06.467+03:00New-Age Seaside Gypsies<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-I6v_-7loh7c/U-TYcRUfG_I/AAAAAAAAEvc/pv1FDBOcB7k/s1600/IMG-20140808-WA0002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-I6v_-7loh7c/U-TYcRUfG_I/AAAAAAAAEvc/pv1FDBOcB7k/s1600/IMG-20140808-WA0002.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our first Volunteer, Mr. Michel from Koura. Picture by Rimal Abeed.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;"><p>Being severely brought down by all the notorious stench in the air the last few weeks, the three of us had decided to do something about it. Just as any other activity in Trablos, things had happened so spontaneously and smoothly. Discussions have been taking place for almost a month before that, but never were more serious than the week before, where we managed to borrow a guitar for Rimal to practice with, Moussa would practice his drawing skills, and I would prepare basically everything else in order to have a smooth chillout time for everybody, and offer people something they were craving for, I assume.</p></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I wonder to myself sometimes, what have we got in this, all of us? It’s neither Rimal, Moussa or le moi that are getting paid anything for taking that action (something society fiercely teaches you in order to survive), neither are we taking any credit, any promotion, not even appraisal. And the photos & story were never meant to be published when Moussa and I first spoke of this. But there’s this little something that I still believe in, that surpasses all financial renumerations, all social appraisal and any sort of other grant, it's that one and only prize, the smile you see getting slowly drawn on people’s faces with that shine in the eyes that follows. You could easily tell their faces were glowing with fresh spirit, something that is not found in Trablos. You could see it in their annoyances, in the way some mocked us, in the eyes following us as they strolled down on that sidewalk.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8ZwwAJYq-MU/U-TYqC1jXMI/AAAAAAAAEvk/R0vWa5guhEQ/s1600/D7K_6281.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8ZwwAJYq-MU/U-TYqC1jXMI/AAAAAAAAEvk/R0vWa5guhEQ/s1600/D7K_6281.jpg" height="422" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Michel checking the Moussa's drawing. Photo by me.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">Having met at the corniche on an extremely lazy Wednesday afternoon, the three of us, and location being picked, our stuff were laid down on a random bench and action just kicked off. It was kind of hilarious to be Moussa’s model for over 15 minutes, with me shouting at him to finish that drawing in less than 10 minutes, while anything longer than that would get people to become agitated, they would eventually leave – frustrated. Rimal’s turn to draw me was next. Even though her drawing was impeccable, but we certainly needed something faster than her 20-minute perfectly dashing portrait of mine. The lines, eyes, chin, lips and hair were just perfect, yet time was the issue. Long story short, our first (and only, to be honest) guest was Michel, a courteous, 50-year old, Lebanese living in Australia and originally from Koura, having been there with his son and their lovely Wolfy, a dark-furred dog laying by their side as they were watching bypassers. I come up to them and gently explain what we were trying to do, and to my surprise, and with all his welcoming attitude, he decides to join us.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2Wic7luV85Q/U-TY9vLCxtI/AAAAAAAAEvs/beDaxZWjruo/s1600/IMG-20140808-WA0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2Wic7luV85Q/U-TY9vLCxtI/AAAAAAAAEvs/beDaxZWjruo/s1600/IMG-20140808-WA0001.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by Rimal Abeed.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">He carefully sits where we ask him to, and manages to adjust his angle as Moussa dictated, all while he was bragging about his son’s girlfriend and her outstanding life achievements. Little had I known that our little “gathering” would attract so much attention, which turned all out to be in our benefit, no matter how much some of them pissed me off. I imagined, while my two fellows were doing what they were best at, and soon after taking my photos, for a split second that I would be in any of those bypassers’ shoes. Stepping out of my house/shop and heading to the seaside “corniche” would have been my afternoon ritual, my pleasant retreat despite all the filthy smell in the air or the annoying motorcycle drivers here and there. But, seeing a handful of young people playing music and practicing drawing and photography, would be the remotest thing I would ever expect, yet exactly what I had needed to have a new feeling hit me about that place. Tripoli appears to have been molded otherwise, unfortunately.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">To wrap this post up, I can never thank enough both Rimal and Moussa for their guts and believing in me, and themselves first. What we did there has to be acknowledged as a break-through, the least. And finally, this is the first of so many events and activities to come. I would love if you would join us (and for that kindly contact me), but I would also love to see others taking the same initiative on their own. I mean, that is the eventual goal, isn’t it? :)</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div></div>Natheer H.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15729982354247534337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5730933840732264230.post-39383574591788884942014-06-02T21:26:00.002+03:002014-06-03T16:42:55.227+03:00Deghri Messengers: Where Cycling Pays, Literally.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
A couple months ago and right after losing my daytime job, I approached my dear old friends at <a href="http://www.deghri.com/" target="_blank">Deghri Messengers</a> to join them aboard ever since I was drooling to do that ages ago. In no time, I officially became a proud Deghri Messenger, I had my own messenger backpack, my receipt notebook and a whole lot more stationary and accessories that would make one a Deghri messenger, that’s of course besides the bike and helmet. To all those to whom the word “Deghri” doesn’t ring any bell, here’s a snippet:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“We deliver things by bicycle. Our service is fast, reliable and good value. Businesses and organisations all over Beirut rely on us to respond to their urgent delivery needs reliably and with a smile.”</blockquote>
Deghri Messengers is a bike messenger service in Beirut. They deliver all kinds of stuff around the city using only bicycles and the power of their own bodies. It's hard work and takes a special mix of fitness, passion for cycling, city orientation and pure guts.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9yVOxTgxgxA/U4yLpFKYv1I/AAAAAAAAEfQ/EKa6bWiZT9I/s1600/10178054_548933885219118_6417607521693556898_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9yVOxTgxgxA/U4yLpFKYv1I/AAAAAAAAEfQ/EKa6bWiZT9I/s1600/10178054_548933885219118_6417607521693556898_n.jpg" height="536" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bike Messenger Essentials, Courtesy of <a href="https://www.facebook.com/Deghri/photos/a.382426475203194.1073741828.381786495267192/548933885219118/?type=1&relevant_count=1" target="_blank">Deghri Facebook Page</a>.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Here’s a confession, or two. Being one of the messengers of Deghri was absolutely one of the very few amazing things that happened to me ever since I became jobless. I had the chance to do something I absolutely loved, to meet new awesome people, to visit companies of interests different from what I'm used to, grow my social network, and on top of all that, get paid for it! How awesome?! The simple fact that such a thing actually exists in Lebanon is wonderful enough to be spoken of everywhere, and of course to put it to use in most of our delivery chores nowadays, especially with the hectic traffic.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-an1421o7fEY/U4yMavVya1I/AAAAAAAAEfY/vhn7UPbJ_8k/s1600/1625620_514544348658072_1312374509_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-an1421o7fEY/U4yMavVya1I/AAAAAAAAEfY/vhn7UPbJ_8k/s1600/1625620_514544348658072_1312374509_n.jpg" height="470" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some of the crazy folks behind Deghri Messengers</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I don’t hide the fact that I would absolutely love to wake up one day to see our major cities packed with cyclers of all types, ages and genders. Would be even better to enjoy the commodity of initiatives like Deghri instead of the notorious cars and motorcycles that are currently doing the job in deliveries of all kinds. Going even further, such an idea was highlight of my innovative ideas for Tripoli all week last week, the town is best made for cyclers especially the casual ones.<br />
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During my time with Deghri, I got the chance to meet the mighty bikers, especially the ones who were always around including - but not limited to - Saunders boy, Matt Saunders, the man in charge at the Messengers dispatch office and the guy always ready to lend a hand in being a messenger whenever needed. Wissam and Chafik were two of my biker-heroes at the time, those studs would pedal all the way from Hamra to Jounyeh and then up to Hazmieh or Mansourieh in one ride, and feeling ready to hit the road again in no time afterwards.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZoxhqZZSw9s/U4yeyzdMD9I/AAAAAAAAEgM/1vXK4nvWhzo/s1600/%5BD%5D+Deghri1-res.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZoxhqZZSw9s/U4yeyzdMD9I/AAAAAAAAEgM/1vXK4nvWhzo/s1600/%5BD%5D+Deghri1-res.jpg" height="400" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My time with Deghri in four simple shots :)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Moving on to a couple serious topics here, Deghri has raised the flag for some help from us, kind contributors and volunteers:<br />
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<ol style="text-align: left;">
<li>Deghri has launched its shoutout for volunteers in Beirut, seems like work is picking up really well. So, in case you were a cycler and think you got the time and a decent bike that you’re used to, able to handle biking all day and can give some time of yours for a couple (or more) shifts a week and get paid for it, be sure to follow that link.<br />
<div class="fb-post" data-href="https://www.facebook.com/Deghri/photos/a.382426475203194.1073741828.381786495267192/564088990370274/?type=1" data-width="466">
<div class="fb-xfbml-parse-ignore">
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/Deghri/photos/a.382426475203194.1073741828.381786495267192/564088990370274/?type=1">Post</a> by <a href="https://www.facebook.com/Deghri">Deghri Messengers دغري</a>.</div>
</div>
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</li>
<li>On the other hand, Deghri founders are in need of financial support to be able to be in Stockholm and join the European Championship for Bike Messengers in and around Europe to crown the best Messengers around.</li>
</ol>
<div>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/i0HTfX3IiRA" width="560"></iframe><br /></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"As a fairly new messenger service, it's extremely valuable for us to attend the championship, meet other messengers and of course test our riding skills. What's more, we will be representing Lebanon at this event, the most important in the bike messenger calendar in this part of the world." - <a href="http://www.zoomaal.com/projects/deghriineurope1/1911?ref=1816435" target="_blank">Crowdfunding link on Zoomal</a></blockquote>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fYcB0J8HOKI/U4yfGFGHcwI/AAAAAAAAEgU/nc7Z6Dxh-xk/s1600/10325702_565081120271061_4109721496941702908_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fYcB0J8HOKI/U4yfGFGHcwI/AAAAAAAAEgU/nc7Z6Dxh-xk/s1600/10325702_565081120271061_4109721496941702908_n.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Messenger on duty in Beirut, where a break is worth the world.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Why Support Deghri you ask? Here's your answer:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"Because we are a group of young people from Lebanon looking to make a change in the country. Our inspiration often comes from being part of an international movement of delivery by bicycle, and attending the Championship will bring us closer to this community. The journey as well as the competition will help us grow as people and give us determination to continue our efforts in Lebanon."</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
</blockquote>
I've been with these guys quite enough for me to know they're really worth every penny contributed or every second spent working with them. I can't remember a time I was happier ever since I left my job :)<br />
Just so that you get some of their latest updates, the guys at Deghri have been doing a marvelous efforts lately. Let alone the eco-friendly time-saving bike delivery of virtually anything you can deliver on bike, and by that doing the community and individuals a huge favor, it's also crucial to mention the below:<br />
<br />
<ol style="text-align: left;">
<li>Baskil Festival, the first bike festival in Beirut to have taken the streets of Mdawwar Area for several days during which many cycler-wannabes have learned how to ride a bike for the first time in their lives, and were sky-high happy with that, to the conferences and talks about cycling in Beirut and in general. The festival witnessed great success and has received tremendously positive feedback, which I got a stench of hands-on.</li>
<li>Regar, your cozy-slash-top notch bike workshop around Beirut. It's quite one of the best I've seen around, and beats others with the services offered compared to the budget (and tools) available.</li>
<li>Bullit, Deghri's first Cargo Bike among its fleet. This beast can hold up to 60KGs of goods. It's mostly shown to the public every Saturday at Souk El Tayyeb where Deghri offer shoppers to deliver their goods for as low as 6000LBP using the Bullit.</li>
<li>Awareness, by creating it first and raising it whenever needed, towards turning bikes, and more deliberately delivery on bikes, a standard around Beirut and hopefully all over the country.</li>
</ol>
<br />
Friends and lovelies at Deghri, I wish you nothing but the BEST!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QTzYhMbERxs/U4ygk945QoI/AAAAAAAAEgc/n4cVABfzWyg/s1600/1948223_552050921574081_8540648838831761343_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QTzYhMbERxs/U4ygk945QoI/AAAAAAAAEgc/n4cVABfzWyg/s1600/1948223_552050921574081_8540648838831761343_n.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Co-Founder Matt Saunders introducing Deghri Messenger in the Baskil Bicycle Festival</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Dp7cgwyzzQA/U4ygmfFFpJI/AAAAAAAAEgk/uKAZC5P-LUc/s1600/1229826_511571692288671_1565770933_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Dp7cgwyzzQA/U4ygmfFFpJI/AAAAAAAAEgk/uKAZC5P-LUc/s1600/1229826_511571692288671_1565770933_n.jpg" height="226" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At Souk el Tayeb every Saturday, Deghri Messengers دغري will be available to bring shoppers' groceries home</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Natheer H.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15729982354247534337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5730933840732264230.post-57419139763093454862014-04-28T20:55:00.002+03:002014-04-28T21:08:19.139+03:00At Last, the Website.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7iTjZSJW0bM/U1rNh7SSbyI/AAAAAAAADao/ORcL-V7GBgg/s1600/new+template+for+najd-0%D9%A1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7iTjZSJW0bM/U1rNh7SSbyI/AAAAAAAADao/ORcL-V7GBgg/s1600/new+template+for+najd-0%D9%A1.png" height="236" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.natheerhalawani.com/">www.natheerhalawani.com</a></td></tr>
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I never would have imagined the day I called the owners of Al Baba Sweets offering them a free photosession a couple years ago that, one day coming really soon, I would be congratulated by friends and family for <a href="http://www.natheerhalawani.com/" target="_blank">my own website</a>, the website that held my name. I ask myself sometimes where is this path taking me to, what am I doing here. I am fully aware this is my sense of insecurity due to the absence of somebody to drag me and guide me somewhere – as it’s always been – that is talking at the moment. I wholeheartedly listened to my close friends’ advice and rode the wave, and boy I must say it took me somewhere unbelievable.<br />
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I’m officially a photographer now, I built a career identity that is available for the public and I can simply throw in my website to anybody wanting to see my work. I used to prepare collages and work for hours picking my photos and eliminating others, only to be able to send a sample or two of my work to a potential client. The website is there now to represent me digitally, to be the complement of all my social media accounts to finally crown them all with a mother venue that tells it all.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7fKpnIpClK4/U16T01ZrFBI/AAAAAAAADbk/NVOCHuw9XFw/s1600/screenshot-www.natheerhalawani.com+2014-04-28+20-44-34.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7fKpnIpClK4/U16T01ZrFBI/AAAAAAAADbk/NVOCHuw9XFw/s1600/screenshot-www.natheerhalawani.com+2014-04-28+20-44-34.jpeg" height="300" width="640" /></a></div>
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It all started a while ago, when people wanting to work with me would ask to see the shots I used to take, my answer would be intuitively to check my facebook account. Cheesy as it sounds, these people actually went there and I would get those freaky friend requests every now and then ever since. Some highlights of that would be that day I was selling my mom’s old polaroid camera to a total stranger photographer on Charles El Helou bus station where she mentioned having a Facebook page and the need for every good photographer to own/run one. Giving her my then-usual answer of “no, it’s still too early”, she used an angry tone to push me into creating something that would give me identity overall and show my work. Another highlight would be that <a href="https://www.facebook.com/nath.halawani/posts/10151759640981809?stream_ref=10" target="_blank">famous facebook post</a> several months ago, where I dared to ask my facebook friends to pick for me. Seemed eventually that a website and a facebook page were both welcome, as soon as possible, with a huge amount of cheering and encouragement.<br />
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The website cost me around 25$ to launch and almost 4 rough months to finally settle down on a platform to build my site on, pick my winning shots, prepare the texts, the logo, the covers, the concept, etc.. It was one darn huge errand and it wouldn’t have happened without the last-minute intervention of my dear old Najd, my graphic-design-specialist brother. It was him who created the facebook cover and helped me shape up the visuals of the site. It’s crucial to mention at the same time that my welcome page photo was taken right in front of my bathroom door by my flatmate Jaakko, I literally had to crop out the black holes stuck on the white paint right there.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0gnHxuDZGL8/U11P_62LFkI/AAAAAAAADa4/VDLl2LVBjIE/s1600/screenshot-www.natheerhalawani.com+2014-04-27+21-43-13.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0gnHxuDZGL8/U11P_62LFkI/AAAAAAAADa4/VDLl2LVBjIE/s1600/screenshot-www.natheerhalawani.com+2014-04-27+21-43-13.jpeg" height="300" width="640" /></a></div>
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Here we go peeps, a little tour around the website:<br />
<ol style="text-align: left;">
<li><a href="http://www.natheerhalawani.com/work" target="_blank">Landing page:</a> it’s the page you see right after clicking “work”. The page has no specific theme, in fact it’s a collection of the shots that were the most famous on social media, including the famous shot of SahawHana iftar, Father Sarouj of Al Saeh library, etc..</li>
<li>Portfolio: that’s nothing but a label, where if clicked would drop down a menu with access to the four basic categories for the moment. Other categories will be added with time.</li>
<ol>
<li><a href="http://www.natheerhalawani.com/on-stage" target="_blank">On Stage:</a> concerts and artists taking the stage. Featuring names such as Nightwish, Mashrou Leila, Ahmad Qaabour, Scorpions, Lana Del Ray, Cirque De Soleil, Wanton Bishops, Majida Roumi, Magic Malik, Mazen El Sayed, Mike Massy, etc..</li>
<li><a href="http://www.natheerhalawani.com/gourmet" target="_blank">Gourmet:</a> Another name for food photography, most of the shots were taken at private celebrations and during shoots for clients. List includes Al Baba Sweets, L’Hote Libanais, etc..</li>
<li><a href="http://www.natheerhalawani.com/portraits" target="_blank">Soulful Portraits:</a> I remember one of my photographer friends pointing out the unnecessity of describing my portraits with Soulful, this is – she said – to be decided by my viewers. Portraits and faces are the main reason I got into photography. Growing up, and probably till this moment now, I always had this urge to look at people’s faces with them noticing it. This is exactly how I work now, especially when a group of people is involved “please ignore me” I say. Portraits speak, and that’s what I love about them.</li>
<li><a href="http://www.natheerhalawani.com/photojournalism" target="_blank">Photojournalism:</a> I don’t consider myself a photojournalist, it’s just the fact that I had the chance to be in several occasions where security was an issue, a protest was rising up or a news was being made. The fact that I got used to publishing my pictures in a flash put me on the journalism track really fast, without even noticing it. As a result, many of my shots were used in national and international newspapers, especially when the Al Saeh Library was burnt down and when the Salam and Taqwa car bomb incident took place, all with the help of dear friends and journalists such as none else but my friend <a href="https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=1361122907&fref=ts" target="_blank">Souhaib Ayoub</a>, who gave me a huge push in that matter.</li>
</ol>
<li>Extras: Everything that is not photography and pictures all over.</li>
<ol>
<li><a href="http://www.natheerhalawani.com/tear-sheets" target="_blank">Tear Sheets:</a> source of my pride. As the title says, it’s tear sheets and screenshots of some/most of the websites and papers that published my photos. Featuring CNN, Annahar, Assafir, Montreal Gazette, MTV Iggy, The Huffington Post, etc..</li>
<li><a href="https://dustywyndow.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Blog – The Dusty Wyndow:</a> a simple link to my mighty old blog, the <a href="https://dustywyndow.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Dusty Wyndow</a> :)</li>
</ol>
<li>Info:</li>
<ol>
<li><a href="http://www.natheerhalawani.com/about" target="_blank">About:</a> a little bio about me. I so believe this is going to reshape a lot before being complete.</li>
<li><a href="http://www.natheerhalawani.com/contact" target="_blank">Contact:</a> Throwing in a quote here and there has become a habit of mine: “One day, there will be happiness and there will be sunshine.” Your messages will be more than welcome :)</li>
</ol>
<li>Share:</li>
<ol>
<li>Social Media Buttons: Each and every button is connected to my account at each service respectively. These buttons are not for sharing the website, they're only for checking my social media accounts.</li>
<li>Share: the key to sharing the website :)</li>
</ol>
</ol>
The website has huge plans for the future and will host many other categories and extraordinary sections as promised on my home page. It is quite important also to write about the amount of support I got from friends and distant ones too, it was as if it were their own work and their newborn baby. I saw everybody congratulating me for the website at least, some were thoughtful enough to get a bit more into details and suggested a couple fixes, a handful more were courteous enough to point out a grammar mistake here or there. Blah! The energy was, and still is fantastic.<br />
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It triggers me the fact that I have to still be looking for an *engineering* job, to have interviews and to manage my way into getting a job offer. The website has done a great effort ever since its launch, getting in only two days half the views this blog has accumulated over last year, and my blog has some decent exposure. I must say I'm humbled by these people's heed to help me lift that website to a higher level by fetching out grammatical mistakes to fix and giving in their opinion of what could be altered in the design: Maja, Jost, Nina, Muslema, Souha, Mutaz, Foutoun, Fatima, Krystelle, Patrick, Rana, Randa, Mahmoud and pretty much everybody who threw in a word of advice.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lb6Wqkjdkno/U16Q-Bi6mwI/AAAAAAAADbY/pNkM7uwdv3I/s1600/D7K_6118-002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lb6Wqkjdkno/U16Q-Bi6mwI/AAAAAAAADbY/pNkM7uwdv3I/s1600/D7K_6118-002.jpg" height="272" width="640" /></a></div>
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Natheer H.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15729982354247534337noreply@blogger.com2