a basement christmas

I would simply like to share a bit of Christmas cheer from the Basement Crew because we are awesome and so is this snowman:

We then added in my laptop, which has a crackling candy corn fireplace display screensaver, and played Christmas music in the background.

Unfortunately, the judges who said they would be there in 5 minutes were not there ever until the next afternoon by which time I had of course removed my laptop from it's public display since I like it and want to keep it. 

Then we have this on the wall, which I overheard the cleaning ladies trying to read one morning:

The other half:

The rest of it:

This decorating turned into an all-out basement partay which was fun because we never hangout together during the day like this outside the kitchen.

And this is my door:

And the rest of the hall -- YES that IS a giant paper chain that zigzags down the whole hallway.

And some freaks running down it as well but we can ignore them. 

Unfortunately, the judges could not see the amazingness that is our basement and told us we didn't win because we used sellotape -- they didn't actually say that by they implied it -- when everyone else TOTALLY used sellotape. Our was just more obvious. Lame.

Today was my last day of the first semester, Aamna and Amina left me, but I'm going to Kuwait on Monday!! Can't wait.

Happy Winter slash Christmas slash Holidays!

leicester

This past weekend, I was invited to spend a belated Eid with the wonderful family of my dear friend Aamna. And it was awesome.

I was so so excited to go because I was getting to spend the WEEKEND at AAMNA'S HOUSE with her FAMILY. While I took this to be a very exciting and momentous occasion, Aamna seemed to be dreading it. For exactly the same reasons I was excited.

We took the afternoon train to Cleesthorpe (yup, Cleesthorpe) and went on our merry little way which was, in this case, about a two hour train ride. Unfortunately, I didn't get to experience first-hand the odd strangers Aamna always has stories to tell about when she comes back over a weekend. Ah, well. There's always next time. We had to change trains at some point and I thought it was very lucky we didn't get lost because we have a knack for doing things like getting lost.

We arrived in Leicester not that late but it felt like late because England turns dark at around 3.45pm nowadays. Her dad and sister picked us up from the station and so began my existence in Leicestershire.

We got to her house, passing an ASDA along the way, which lit up and bright green. It's owned by Wal-Mart except ASDA has a much better reputation in the UK than Wal-Mart does in the States. Anyways. Someone mentioned we needed to go to ASDA so after we got home, someone should do that. We got to Aamna's house and oh my goodness I love her family. I really do. Her dad is the sweetest person ever. Her mom is such a mom and I miss my mom and she's funny and tells me stories about Aamna has a wee lass. Her sister is also funny and cool and her brother IS EXACTLY LIKE MY BROTHER. It was so weird. 

A little bit after we got in, we were told to go grocery shopping at ASDA (by the by, I'm not putting it in caps because I'm excited about it, that's just how it's written). However, as we were about to pass the intersection to ASDA, we noticed the traffic lights were not working and the entire area seemed to be awash in darkness. Even the brightly lit green ASDA sign was dark. Because there was a power outage and there was a mass exodus coming out of ASDA's car park. Instead we made a giant u-turn to Sainsbury's and did some grocerying there. 

When we got back home, everyone was telling me how this doesn't usually happen and power outages were so rare ... just as all the lights and TV went out in their house. Which made me laugh. 

When the lights came back on, we had dinner which was the absolute most delicious meal I'd had in three months. It was glorious. It was only slightly awkward when Aamna forgot to inform me that they don't use forks and knives usually but eat just using bread and I sat there for a couple seconds staring at my plate wondering what was going on. Then I noticed what everyone else was doing and I saved myself the embarrassment of looking like too much of a loser. I felt like this trip was the culmination of all my previous brownification. This was the exam moment after a semester of education. No, I'm not being dramatic.

Anyways, once I figured out how to get the food from my plate to my salivating mouth, I enjoyed a delightful dinner. Then somewhere in between there we took a walk outside except it was freezing cold (really, it was partly snowing) so it kind of turned into a brisk jog through the neighborhood. Then we went home and watched Kingdom of Heaven, which I had never seen before, but wasn't paying attention to so I can't really say I've seen it now.

The next morning, we had another wonderful meal called breakfast Indian style. After that, Aamna and I got ready for our frolic around town. We went to downtown Leicester, which, if you didn't know, is pronounced LESS-ter, and roamed the streets.

All of downtown was decorated for Christmas and there were giant Christmas trees and a whole snowy scene set out in front of the town hall. And there was this fountain that doesn't work anymore because Caution: Water Presents Danger to Small Children.

And on this fountain was this engraving, which I enjoyed for no reason:

And there was this little All About Leicester shop, where I bought a postcard and an I Heart Leicester button, which was located on this street:

Then we roamed some more, through the local mall, down the market streets. Eventually, we stopped to have a Nutella-filled crepe, which was quite tasty. It was particularly interesting because we were given this utensil with which to consume our yummy treat:

(Please excuse the littly chunks of chewed crepe and licked Nutella.) Notice the little ridges on the side of the fork's tooth?  They are KNIFE TEETH. Now will someone please please please solve our crisis and name this utensil? A knork? A forfe? HELP US.*

Eventually, we were picked up by Aamna's father and we drove past this castle that has now been turned into a prison.

We had to make a stop in the Indian part of town to get some Indian groceries so I got to see Little India! It's not actually called Little India, or Indiatown, like we like to name our international parts of town in the States, but I felt the need to name it so. We got some yummy samosas there. 

Then we drove all the way back home (I say 'all the way' -- it was really only about 15 minutes) where Aamna's mum was preparing for a small dinner partay for Eid. Several members of Aamna's family was coming over so there was a flurry of activity and cooking etc etc. So Aamna, her sister, and I decided to take a drive to see the most ridiculously lit up houses in town. While their displays were very impressive, they could not compare to some of the elaborate decorations I have seen at home. But it was still fun to see. 

Got back home, showered (Aamna: "You're in my SHOWER.") and prepared to meet the Aamna clan. There were a couple uncles, some aunts, and several cousins of some sort. And they were all very very kind and lively and wonderful people. We all sat around and watched the X-Factor together and celebrated the inevitable win of Alexandra Burke, who is awesome AND SANG WITH BEYONCÉ WHATWHAT. I say 'sang' but really what happened was (you don't care but I'm telling you anyways) Beyoncé strode out on stage like the fabulous diva that she is and Alexandra mumbled "Oh My God" and "wow" and was incapacitated to sing because DUH BEYONCÉ WAS RIGHT NEXT TO HER. She was pretty much drooling. I would have fainted. She's made of stronger stuff than I.

And we had more delicious food and played on each other's iPod Touches and iPhones. Then we rotated playing Mario Kart Wii, which is the hardest thing of my life because I suck at controlling my car. Eventually, people started going home, except for the crew from London because they obviously weren't going to drive all the way back to London at that hour. Instead, we all stayed up until around 4am playing poker. I'd never played before so Aamna's uncle sat me down for a one-on-one crash course in poker. I think I won a couple rounds so I was quite proud of myself. Oh and since we're all hardcore gamblers, we used Monopoly™© money.

In the morning, I was greeted by half the family and a bowl of cheerios. And then Aamna's uncle promply started off the quizzing. Apparently, he does this a lot. He'll quiz anyone on anything that is remotely related to that someone. At first, I got the usual "What are you studying?" and "Why did you come to England?" which lead to questions about how high school is run in America and what did I study in my English classes? which then turned into a full on intensive quiz on the works of Shakespeare. Before noon on a Sunday.

He whipped out his iPhone, which has a Shakespeare application on it, to read out bits of The Merchant of Venice and then Hamlet's To Be or Not To Be speech which he would read and then look at me as if prompting me to complete the sentence. Of course, I could not do so, but this deterred him not one bit. He did not stop until he was done with the entire speech. Then he turned on his son, who was asleep on the living room floor. He was brushed off but, again, seemed jovially unconcerned with our shortcomings and continued to read Shakespeare aloud. After Aamna came down, I went up to use the loo and get dressed. When I came back down, Aamna told me she was so thankful that I had left when I did because at the moment, her uncle began to read the witches' bit in Macbeth in a full-on witchy voice. And Aamna would have been traumatized had I been there. I, however, was quite upset to have missed witnessing this glorious rendition of Shakespeare. Ah, well.

After that, Aamna's mum packed us some food in tupperwares and sent us off back to Manchester. Where we were greeted by Amina yelling our names.

I loved Leicester, I really did. I loved being around a family and a home and delicious food and a town that was cozy and homey. And Aamna's awesome family invited me back whenever I felt like it. 

Mwahaha.

* My dear friend Michelle has just informed me of this website. Who'da thunk.

a british thanksgiving

For the last decade's worth of Thanksgivings, any part of my family that resides in the States will gather for a family reunion of epic proportions. There is always, of course, much stuffing of faces, much giving, much thanking, and a heck of amount of rejoicing. We pretty much just cram one of our homes to brim with aunts and uncles, parents and grandparents, cousins and babies and whoever else cares to brave our territories. It's my all time favo(u)rite holiday of the year. 

This year was the first year I wasn't there. This Thanksgiving also marked the first time I was homesick. Really, really homesick. 

A couple second year American students invited me and some of their friends to have a small celebration together. One of them said she was making turkey; it turned into a charred black encrusted chicken. I asked my mom for the corn pudding recipe and made a pretty delightful (I'm so modest) dish of the golden stuff. Someone else made sweet yams, bought some cranberry sauce, and made a huge pot of mac&cheese. Some French guy brought pâté. We all sat around a low table in a corner of the JCR, picking at our plates as we balanced them on our knees. I brought Becca and Amina along with me to pass the time, but all we did was sit there and observe the antics of the second years who downed that booze a little too quickly and smoked that joint a little too within a mile radius of me. 

(Did I tell you about the time I accidentally convinced said joint-smoker that I was, in fact, a pothead? It was one of those conversations that takes place solely by the use of facial expressions and half-spoken words. Unfortunately, my confused look appeared to her as one of those knowing look and suddenly she was making plans for us to get baked, saying, "OH RIGHT, you're from CALIFORNIA! I knew you were too mellow not to [smoke]." At which point I'm pretty sure my confused look turned into my horrified look while she gave me an approving look at my apparent acceptance to the International Alliance of Potheads. Seriously?)

Near the end of our oh so precious gathering, while they made plans to go out and get pissed, my parents called. The whole time I was talking to them, I could hear everyone in the background talking and laughing and passing messages back and forth to the phone. My mom felt it necessary also to list the entire contents of their splendid meals they'd been having -- the Moroccan turkey and mashed potatoes and stuffing, the whole shebang. That came the night before Thanksgiving because this year they were having a special treat: an entire lamb. Pretty much my two favorite meals in a row and I was scooping cold mac&cheese out of a cooking pot. Eventually, the phone was passed to my aunt and right as we were about to say bye, my cousins all came home, one Noor short of the usual quartet. And that seriously depressed me. 

All of a sudden, everything just seemed too far away, too across an entire ocean. I miss my family. I miss my house. I miss my room. I miss my friends. I miss good food. I miss California. I miss home. I miss feeling closer, within reach of everything that I love. 

It's incredibly hard being this far. I can only hope that it won't overwhelm me.

becoming brown

brown [broun]
noun

1. a dark tertiary color with a yellowish or reddish hue.

2. a person whose skin has a dusky or light-brown pigmentation.

-- Dictionary.com

brown 
The people, or anything pertaining to something of South Asian descent, as in "That kid isn't Spanish -- he's BROWN."

-- UrbanDictionary.com

Guess which definition I'm using.

It was bound to happen: I spend every waking minute of my life in the same room as an Indian and a Pakistani. They outnumber me; it's easier for them to turn me brown than it is for me to turn them Arab. Plus, being Middle Eastern puts me halfway to brown anyways so I might as well take the full leap.

I'm pretty sure this whole downward spira-- I mean, epoch of enlightenment began around the time a group of brownfolk gathered in the TV room to watch Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge (DDLJ, for normal), a classic Indian movie from 1995. It's now the longest running Indian movie in cinemas, having been in theatres since it's release until now. That's over 13 years. It's a long-winded but charming romance (aren't they all?) starring Anjali (who is adorable and I heart her) and MY NOW ALL TIME FAVOURITE Shahrukh Khan. (EDIT: He presented an award at the Golden Globes last night with that girl from Slumdog Millionaire! I definitely had a panic attack while my parents looked on like I was having a seizure for no apparent reason. Sigh.) 

***

A moment from this cinematic viewing:

Me: Why are you putting subtitles?

Aamna: Because you're not Indian.

***

Now, I've seen plenty of Indian movies before while I lived in Kuwait (every Thursday afternoon with the housekeepers on that small grainy television downstairs where the Arabic and English subtitles always overlapped and I really never had any idea what was going on ever), but I consider this my "brownification" because I now have two mentors to teach me the ways of their people.

The brownifying truly began in earnest when we went to see Dostana in theatres. My friends, let me tell you, there is no experience that can equal the awesome of seeing your first Indian movie in theatres. I would recommend doing so to anyone who has a soul. Even Lord Voldemort who only has an eighth of a soul because doing so will cure all his bitter angst and make his soul whole once again. (You know, I tried to keep the nerd in, I really did but it's just too ingrained. I can't restrain it anymore, it just keeps coming out at inoppurtune moments, like a really really intellectual but overenthusiastic tic.) So while Dostana may not have been the best Hindi film out there, it certainly warmed my heart and I could watch it again and again. It's kind of like the Hindi version of I Now Pronounce You Chuck & Larry where the two main guys register themselves as gay to be able to live in this fantastic apartment with a super hot girl (Priyanka Chopra is most DEFINITELY my girl crush, after Beyoncé and other such Awesome Ladies of the World). And then there's John. Oh, John Abraham, how you torture me. How you torture us all, really. 

But what made this movie the untouchably golden piece of perfection that it is was of course the music. Right in the middle of "Desi Girl," I turned to Aamna and pretty much yelled, "THIS MOVIE JUST MADE MY LIFE." After this movie, we promptly returned to halls to download this song and then listen to it consecutively for, oh, about 63 times. That's no exaggeration.

After this night, it became Aamna and Amina's mission to show me every greatest Indian movie ever created. They also taught me random words in Urdu like 'paagal' which means crazy and shows up quite often in films, prompting me to turn to whomever's closest and yell, "PAAGAL." Then there's: 

chuttputta - spicy hot

buthameez - insolent

bechara - poor

ap kesi hay - how are you?

may theek hoo - i'm fine

tuqloo unda chor - bald egg-stealer

ek do teen chaar paanch chay saat aat no dus - one two three four (tellmethatyoulovememore)

mera naam noor hay - my name is noor

tom chai benara hee (hay?) ho - make me tea

nach ke dika de - show me your dance moves

And other such useful phrases. See how educated I am?!

Most of our date nights are now spent sitting on my bed watching ridiculously long Indian movies into the wee hours and sipping hot cocoa. It's fantastic (like life in plastic). Gosh, what is up with me and all these pop culture references today? 

Anyways. Moral of the story: go find yourself an Indian. It will make all living worthwhile.

***

Annnd a great definition I found on urbandictionary.com for the entry 'brown':

contrary to popular and STUPID belief, brown does not describe those of middle eastern or hispanic descent. those of hispanic descent have their own color - latino, and most middle easterns are of their own color - arab, so arab and brown are not the same ethnic group!  That's right, kids, the newest members of Crayola 64 are the often overlooked colors of Latino and Arab. Find them in the school supplies section of your local Target. or WHSmith, since we're being British. *** Another memorable moment from that night: Aamna and I were just having a lovely two person conversation when suddenly we hear a high-pitched squeal slash shriek coming from our other side. We turn to stare at Amina, who offered up this gem of an explanation: "I felt left out." ***

action palestine

There are a vast amount of clubs (called 'societies') here at Manchester, as there are at any university, I'm sure. I've joined a few so far: we went to the Sci-Fi society's first meeting, I signed up for the Fine Arts one and the Arab Society and Amnesty International, but the one I've taken most interest in and put in the most effort is Action Palestine.  

It was the first society I signed up for and while Aamna was roaming the stalls at Fresher's Fair, she signed herself up too (and me, again). Before there was even a first meeting, AP hosted a small event with a speaker who talked about his experience during a visit to Gaza. After he ended his speech, someone stood up and invited us all to hang around and socialize with our neighbors. So we did. We met some pretty awesome people, including Tom who is equivalent to Jesus in our world -- every word that comes out of his mouth oozes wisdom and profundity -- and this sweet 4th year pharmacist who did a year placement in Oxford (!!!!!) and is as obsessed with it as I am. And through her, we met a bunch of other super cool people and then we all went out for dessert together! And the 4th year became our buddy and now she takes us on occasional dates. 

Then we started going regularly to the meetings and taking part in the discussions and volunteering for things. Now it looks to become a nice chunk of my time at uni and I absolutely love it. And so far it's been a ton of fun. I stood out for a couple hours in the rain handing out flyers and manning the display table. I took part in a silent protest for the Palestinian right to education. I've made sure to go to each of the events they host and most of the meetings. I spent an entire week dedicated to the Right to Education Week, which included a banner drop:

The best parts are all the people I've met. They're not just people in the same club; they've become my good friends. It's so amazing to be around people who are so dedicated and passionate about something, no matter what it is. They're just so inspired. 

I love feeling like that too. I love having something to look forward to and to work for and to support. And to have that something be something I really care about makes it all the more worth it. 

widnes & bonfire night

Guy Fawkes Day, aka Bonfire Night, is the UK's annual celebration that the Gunpowder Plot to blow up the House of Parliament in 1605 was foiled. And yet they celebrate by reenacting what it would look like had the Plot succeeded. Hmm.

Basically, it's the British 4th of July including fireworks and get-togethers and burning effigies. You know, all the normal celebratory rituals. 

Since I've never had a proper Bonfire Night, Becca's family invited me over for the weekend to celebrate with them because they are wonderfully nice, welcoming, and accommodating people. Seriously, I love them all.

Even though Bonfire Night is on the 5th of November, Becca's crew was celebrating on the weekend after. So the following Saturday, Becca and I took the short trek to Oxford Station and hopped on a twenty minute train to Widnes. 

Widnes is a cute little English town, ripe with pubs and narrow streets, old churches and brick walls, and one massive park. It's the most stereotypically English town -- I could seriously imagine "Hot Fuzz" taking place there.* On the walk from the station to her house, Becca pointed out all the areas of interest like her schools and the dog park she and her friend accidentally let loose one day. 

We finally got to her house and just hung around a bit since no one was home. After Becca gave me a tour of her house, we played Wii! I'd never played Wii before. It's awesome. But it seriously tires you out, especially if you're playing Mario & Sonic Olympics which includes much waving of arms and waddling of butts. And apparently, I'm ace at the long jump. Absolutely terrible at hurdles though. And swimming is just a pain in the arms.

In the evening, with a pot of beans in hand, we set out in the ridiculously freezing cold towards Becca's family friend's house, where the bonfire was taking place. There was already a good handful of people there who were all so so sweet and fun. I was just excited to be there since it was the first time I'd been anywhere resembling home for the last couple months. There were little kids running around and their parents were hanging out talking and the teenagers were lounging on the couches. Everyone reminded me of family get-togethers back in LA so I felt at home too. 

They had a potluck going in the kitchen, a bonfire set outside, and the TV buzzing in the background. (We were waiting for the X-Factor to come on.) After a bit of eating, we all went outside to bonfire & sparkler it up.

Then, in true UK fashion, someone pulled out an "effigy" of Guy Fawkes and we set him aflame.

Then Becca and I, being the mature, dignified university students that we are, squealed and danced around with the sparklers, trying to spell out our names and catch it on camera.

We failed quite miserably.

Then, in even MORE UK Fashion, it started to pour. Within seconds, we were drenched in freezing rain. I don't think I've ever been colder than I was that night. But we still pushed onward, setting off all the fireworks whenever there was a short non-pouring spell. I even got to set off my own first Bonfire Night firecracker.

(I don't look too attractive from this angle...)

And we set off all the rest of the fireworks, some of which were duds and others (like that Catherine Wheel) were pretty sweet.

After a while, Becca and I walked back to her house to eat more beans on toast, drape ourselves over the heaters, and watch Heroes. Yum. I heart Bonfire Night.

* If you haven't seen "Hot Fuzz," go see it now. It's amazing.

talent show!

A couple weeks back, my friend Laura asked me if I was going to the Talent Show semi-finals that our coursemate Bernard was in. I hadn't even heard of it but I dragged a few people with me and we went out for a short but highly entertaining show. 

Not everyone was great but all were entertaining. Particularly the emcee, whose horrendous jokes got progressively better as he got drunker throughout the night. There was a belly dancer who had giant shiny wings and a gaping belly button that was mesmerizing, a Palestinian-Iraqi rapper who goes by the name of Psycho Mo and is not a motherf***ing gangsta (his words, not mine. (and his censorship, not mine.)), and a comedian who I really just felt sorry for. Then there were the Hobos who weren't actually called the Hobos but they looked it and we are big fans of naming people things they are not. 

After the show, we ended up walking out in front of them and I turned around to say something to one of my friends only to find the Hobos and since I was walking backwards, I was staggering a bit but I still found it prudent to yell, "HEY! We voted for you! And I'm not drunk, I promise." They just kind of looked at me funny and then said something about trying for three years and getting nowhere. How sad.

The best two acts were an Irish guitarist named Eoin (pronounced Owen) and a duo that went by the Meadow Larks, one of whom is my friend Bernard. Who is made of awesome. Eoin and the Meadow Larks made it to the next round, the Finals, which took place tonight on Bonfire Night. 

Sadly, neither of them won but they did get to the top 3 (Eoin, third, Meadow Larks, second)! This is a video compilation of both their semi-final and finals performances, with a Chinese instrument player in between. Might I add that the Chinese guy introduced himself thusly: "This is called a [insert name of instrument]. It's from China. My name's Geoffrey and I'm from China too."

Ah, I love people.

Eoin is the solo guitarist and Bernard is the dark-haired guy in the duo (not the redhead, who is also awesome and named Kieran).