Category Archives: Happenings

situations

basboos

Some people have the misconception that cats never have to be bathed. That somehow they “lick” themselves clean. Well contrary to this popular belief, cats do NOT have some enzyme in their saliva that resembles Tide (with or without bleach). Cats, like their nemesis, the dog …. do get dirty and have a variety of odors… from smelling like the outhouse where you camped last year to the same odor as your dog’s breath. (Remember… your dog will try to eat anything.)

Now we all know that cats HATE water. And we know that giving the cat a sedative to ease this process of a bath is out of the question. So, the best approach is both sneaky and direct. Remember now, this is not the dumb dog who can be led to tub with lies and a trail of Kibbles and Bits. Although your cat has the advantage of smarts, quickness and total lack of concern for you …. you have the advantage of size, strength, and the ability to wear protective garments.

1. First …. dress for the occasion. A 4-ply rubber wet suit is suggested, along with a helmet, face mask and welders gloves.

2. A Bathtub with a glass enclosure is preferred to the one with a shower curtain. A frenzied cat can shred one of these in about 3.5 seconds.

3. Have the Kitty Bubbles and towel in the enclosed bathtub area before hand. No … blow drying the cat after the bath is not suggested.

4. Draw the water, making it a little warmer than needed as you still need to find the cat. Position everything strategically in the shower, so you can reach it even if you are face down or prone in the tub.

5. Find your cat. Use the element of surprise. Pick the cat up, nonchalantly as if you were simply carrying him/her to the supper dish. No need to worry about the cat noticing your strange attire… the cat barely notices you anyway.

6. Once you and the cat are inside the bathroom …. speed is essential. In one single liquid motion .shut the door to the bathroom, step into the shower, close the sliding doors, and drop the cat into the water. While the cat is still in a state of shock, locate the Kitty Bubbles and squirt whatever part of him is above the water line. You have just begun the wildest 45 seconds of your life. Remember that cats have no handles and add the fact that he now has soapy fur. His state of shock has worn off and he’s madder than a wet hornet.

7. As best, you can, wearing welder’s gloves, try to field his body as he catapults through the air toward the ceiling. If possible, give another squirt of Kitty Bubbles with his body now fully exposed.

8. During the 5 seconds you are able to hold onto him, rub vigorously. No need to worry about rinsing. As he slide down the glass enclosure into the tub, he will fall back into the water, rinsing himself in the process.

9. Only attempt the lather and rinse process about 3 times. The cat will realize the lack of traction on the glass by then and will use the next attempt on the first available part of you.

10. Next, the cat must be dried. No…this is NOT the easiest part. By this stage, you are worn out and the cat has just become semi-permanently affixed to your right leg. We suggest here that you drain the tub and in full view of your cat . reach for the bottle of Kitty Bubbles.

11. If you have done step 10 correctly, the cat will be off your leg and hanging precariously from your helmet. Although this view of the cat is most disgusting, he will be in a much better position for wrapping the towel around him.

12. Be sure cat is firmly wrapped in towel before opening tub enclosure. Open bathroom door …. put towel wrapped cat on floor and step back quickly. Into tub, if possible, and do not open enclosure until all you can see is the shredded towel.

13. In about 2 hours …. it will be safe to exit the bathroom. Your cat will be sitting out there somewhere looking like a small hedgehog while plotting revenge.
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London Street

I was leaving my place, running late, to catch the 197 to Croydon Town Center, and I got to the bus stop only to find it empty. Not only that, there was a nice yellow sign that said, “This stop is not in service.” So I walked across the street to follow the route to the next stop, only I didn’t know where that was exactly. So I saw a gentleman who looked North African coming along with a buggy, read: stroller, and asked him for directions. He answered, in a Moroccan accent, “sister you cross there and go left”.

So I did, and my temperature began to rise as I power walked uphill to the next stop, only to find another yellow sign. “Come ON!!!” I thought while exhaling heavily in objection to the unfair treatment I was getting by the London Transport Authority. That was not all though, there was an old couple, or I thought so at the time, standing at the stop.

Pause for a second.

The reason the stops are all closed is because of construction projects that are surfacing all across Lewisham this week. These projects are part of a scheme the council gladly pulls every March. As the new fiscal budgets are assessed in April, they engage in all the large scale construction, repairs, and renewals to prove their worthiness for more funding the following year. God forbid if nothing needs repairs then they might actually loose money in the new budget. Money they don’t need, but apparently can’t do without.

Resuming the walk uphill I got to the stop almost out of breath and said, “excuse me.” Neither of them turned around. Then when I tried again, they heard me, so I asked if the 197 stopped here. Obviously the sign said it didn’t, but their standing there and the long walk to the next stop, made me hope otherwise. The old man stated the obvious while pointing at the sign, but told me that they were waiting for the 197 as well. And, told me not to worry.

This is the part where they let me in on their malicious plan.

“When the driver sees how old she is, he WILL stop”.

It sounded as reasonable to me, as the walk to the next stop did tiring, so I waited.

Minutes later the 197 made the same left I made a little while ago and began chugging up the hill.

Our plan was in motion.

Yes, OUR plan, I was in on it too. The little Muslim girl who probably doesn’t read English needs a ride as well.

The man whispered to the woman, “you come right to the edge”, helping her walk a couple of steps, “yup just like that.”

I was holding my breath and I walked two steps closer to them, as not to get left behind.

For some reason I recall the events that followed in slow motion.

The man flagged the bus, with his left hand, supporting the woman with his right.

Then I looked towards the bus, still chugging up the hill.

The tension was building, as I looked back at the old lady who had now lifted her cane to flag the bus.

Hoping this gesture was more convincing, I looked back at the bus.

Specifically his turning signal, hoping he would have the heart to stop for an old bird.

Then in slower motion the signal lit bright yellow and he began to approach the side walk.

Victory, I thought. These old folks were gangster and I was glad I met them.

The driver stopped the bus and let us on, while telling us the stop was out of service.

We didn’t care. He stopped.

We won.

The old man to my suprise didn’t get on with us.

I thanked him as I got onboard.

He winked, nodded and was out of sight.

That was the most interesting thing that I experienced in a long time.

Gaza

STOP the cold blooded murder, torture, and isolation of innocent civilians.

Cry about justice and democracy.

Scream “Human rights violation!” America is disgraceful for letting this happen and supporting terrorism.

Blatant murder of innocent people.

War on terror? How can the US or better yet Muslim nations ever talk about fighting terrorism when they let something like this happen and turn their backs like nothings going on.

Even a hypocritical condemnation would look better than nothing at this point.

Stop bullying people with no defenses.

Stop killing innocent people after occupying their land.

You know damn well you have no business there in the first place.

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Clearly I have chosen the wrong shoes for this adventure, my boots were soaked and I hadn’t even been outside the house for two minutes. It is musty and wet, the rain still dripping, harmoniously if I might add, off tin rooftops onto the already saturated sidewalk. Both Asma and Zakariyya have blatantly refused to let me hold their hand and I feel like a lost mute that has no sense of direction and don’t have a clue where to head next. To top it off, their mom, Auntie Raaliyo, can only speak a handful of English words, the other handful is reserved for my poor Somali vocabulary, incase you were wondering where that went.

So we’re on our way to Lewisham hospital to visit Deeqo, my husbands sister who just had her baby girl, Safiyah. Chugging along with the kids taking turns slipping we made our way to a convenience store, or a corner shop (as Amina chimed in while watching me type this entry) where we picked up some juice and other small things, unfortunately he was out of daily bus passes. We went to the bus stop and caught one headed toward Lewisham. We passed a few stops one of them being PC World, big place, I’ll stop by there some day.

Then we made our way off the bus at the hospital that wasn’t really the building we think it to be but more like a compound with small connecting roads. In we went, I was naturally walking ahead because I am a fast walker, then reading the signs and confirming with Auntie Raaliyo’s nods, I began heading towards the Green Zone: Maternity Ward. There were pencil drawn portraits of ugly, and probably dead judging by their fashion sense, white people on the walls. That’s not the interesting part, its that they were screwed to the walls, 4 screws each. The idea that someone would want to steal such a hideous piece was mind-boggling.

Five stories higher we made it to Deeqo’s room where she lies in bed looking small and helpless. The baby on her lap, looking quite relaxed. Across from her was a teenage girl balled up in her blanket fast asleep. The other beds empty, a nurse came in and woke the girl asking her if she was done eating, “ I haven’t eaten yet, I will.” Then the nurse exclaimed rudely, “I’m cleaning up in half an hour, if you want it eat it.” She turned over and went back to sleep. Deeqo asked me if I was well and how I liked London. I answered politely and briefly.

Minutes later the balled up blonde had two visitors come in, joined by two more blonds in school uniforms. One of them a lady in her 40s clearly a drinker and a smoker the other a young man I assume to be the baby’s father. The girl didn’t want them there, “Leave me alone!” she moaned the mother responded in an inaudible voice urging another, “Just leave me alone.” Then she sprung out of bed and realized she was attached to an IV and screamed, “just cut it”.

After a few more minutes of awkward silence and two trips to the bathroom with Zakariyya and Asmaa, Auntie Raaliyo suggested that we get back to the house. Deeqo said her goodbyes and we headed out. On our way out of the room we passed the blonde’s bed, now empty, and walked through the double doors. We got on the elevator only to get out on the ground floor back out into the musty rain. It felt like about 40 degrees outside, and Sara Barelleis’s “Bottle It Up” began playing in my head as we began walking along. I saw the blonde’s visitors ahead of us, and in a corner to the right I saw the blonde herself. She was standing with her presumed “baby daddy” holding her IV in his hands, with her still attached to it. She was taking a smoke and looking troubled and relieved all at the same time, we headed on for the main road.

We stop, yet again, in a corner shop to pick up some more odds and ends – aka bits and bobs – paper towels, salt, bleach and fish sticks to be exact. When we got up to the register two gentlemen came into the shop one of them singing loudly “ They way I love you… Darlin’..” The other not as drunk but both reeking heavily of alcohol, told him to calm down, “were just here for the alcohol and were leaving”. “The way I… Love you… Darlin’…” He sang, his voice swelling to screaming this time, then he shoved his buddy and stumbled back a few steps from the impact. The man chuckled in response, “There’s no need to get violent mate, we don’t want any trouble, why don’t you sing me another song?” “You…Darling…” the other words trailed off as we made our way out of the shop.

We caught our bus and were home in a few minutes, then we walked into the neighborhood Asma grabbed the mail flap and knocked the door a few times, their neighbor on the left remarked to her “I like your shoes, their all shiny and stuff”, she stomped her foot again, queuing then to light up, as if to affirm that they were worthy of admiration. Then Zakariyya stuck out his foot and said “shoes” the man said, “Yes yours are nice as well.”

By Pamela Constable
Washington Post Staff Writer
Friday, June 13, 2008; A01

 

For years, the Dar al Hijrah mosque was an isolated, slightly mysterious presence in Falls Church — a stark stone building hidden behind a row of trees, rarely visited by non-Muslims in the multi-ethnic Culmore neighborhood, and known mostly for traffic jams on Leesburg Pike as worshipers arrived for Friday prayers.

These days, the mosque bustles with visitors chattering in Spanish and Vietnamese as well as Persian and Urdu. Immigrants from a dozen countries gather there each Thursday, many with toddlers and baby strollers, to pick up donated chicken, bread, fruit and vegetables.

On weekends, the doors are thrown open for community blood drives or mental health fairs. At night, mosque officials often attend meetings at nearby churches, synagogues or social agencies, including a monthly brainstorming session called Culmore Partners.

“The average person here has had no interaction with Islam. They may even think we are the enemy, especially after September 11th,” said Abdulkareem Jama, a network engineer from Somalia who is president of the mosque’s board. “The more we open up and interact, the more we demystify things and seem normal to each other.”

Dar al Hijrah has evolved dramatically since 2001, when it came under official suspicion amid reports that a man linked to the terror attacks in New York and Washington had visited there. This year, its glossy 25th anniversary report includes congratulatory letters from a variety of private and public institutions.

The mosque’s coming out also reflects the growing cooperation between area Muslim institutions and the largely non-Muslim immigrant communities that surround them. In Culmore, the trend has brought many groups together to help immigrants who struggle with poverty, discrimination and legal problems.

Father Horace Grinnell is the pastor at St. Anthony of Padua Catholic Church, a longtime anchor of Culmore. Until six months ago, he had never met the leaders of Dar al Hijrah. Now, they are collaborating on a health clinic and other projects.

“There has been a quantum leap in synergy and coordination,” Grinnell said. “They were painted pretty harshly after 9/11, but now they are reaching out on all fronts. We can both be a resource for people, whether they are Catholic or not.”

Beyond places of worship, the evolving mosaic of shops, restaurants and offices in Culmore and several other Northern Virginia areas reflects an increasingly comfortable meld of Middle Eastern cultures with the Latin American and Asian cultures that once dominated them.

On Leesburg Pike, a Pakistani dentist’s waiting room has Spanish-language and Muslim-oriented newspapers; an Arab-owned travel company books trips to Central America; and an Iranian grocery owner often chats with the Salvadoran discount furniture seller next door.

“There is harmony here,” said Luis Lazo, 55, as he stopped by to greet Lida Sadahjiani in her shop stuffed with Iranian delicacies. “We don’t speak the same language, but we have known each other a long time.”

Just across Leesburg Pike, Ali Altaf, 35, a bank employee, was eating lunch at a Middle Eastern restaurant with his wife and children. In the window were signs in Arabic, Persian and Spanish. His waitress was a Peruvian immigrant named Emiliana Navarrete, 21.

“People here seem more knowledgeable about each other’s cultures now; they are getting to know each other better,” Altaf said. Navarrete showed the notepad where she had written the names of Persian dishes phonetically so she could understand telephone orders.

“Baba kanush, korma sapsi,” she practiced with a laugh.

Such public familiarity has not crossed the line into many personal friendships, let alone religious conversions, local leaders said. There are only a handful of Hispanic Muslims in the area, including Farhanaz Ellis, an outreach worker at the All Dulles Area Muslim Society in Sterling.

Ellis, born to a Catholic family in Panama, said her mosque had held a celebration of Hispanic Heritage Month and presentations for emergency workers. Yet she seemed to have few personal ties to area Latinos and said much of her work involved explaining Islam to outside groups.

“Many people here have the misperception that Islam oppresses women and that Muslims see non-Muslims as infidels,” she said. She does not try to change critics, she said, “just give them food for thought.”

One area Muslim who has plunged into Hispanic issues is Mukit Hossain, a Bangladeshi immigrant in Herndon who co-founded a day-laborer center there for Latino workers. The center provoked a public outcry and was shut down last year.

Hossain said area Muslims, most of whom came to the U.S. legally, traditionally had little interest in the problems of illegal or Latino immigrants. After the terror attacks of 2001, however, they began to face public hostility and find common cause with other immigrant groups.

“What happened on 9/11 was a wake-up call for all of us,” Hossain said. To those who question why he would help Hispanic laborers, he retorted, “Do they think I am a terrorist here to convert people?”

Immigration is a “human rights issue,” he said. “No one from any country should be treated like an animal.”

It was the threat of a crackdown on illegal immigrants that first brought Dar al Hijrah into close contact with advocacy groups. A meeting was called in Culmore to discuss how to help families in cases of raids or arrests, and mosque officials offered their premises.

“We were blown away by their hospitality. They even bought us all pizza,” said Cindy Brown of Hogar Hispano, a nonprofit aid agency for Latinos on Leesburg Pike.

Mosque officials say they have no desire to push their religion on other immigrants, only to inform them about it. At community events, they set up a booth with brochures in Spanish, including a booklet on the history of Islam, women’s rights and “common misinterpretations” about their faith.

“We are one community of many cultures and faiths, and we want to break down the barriers that divide us,” said Mohammed Abdelilah, a manager at Dar al Hijrah. “This is nothing magic. It’s not for political gain. It is for the sake of God.”

At a recent food distribution in the mosque, families from Morocco, Iran, El Salvador, Vietnam, Korea, Guatemala, Pakistan and Ethiopia waited their turn. Although clustered together by language groups, they greeted each other with smiles.

Carlos Moreno, 71, an immigrant from El Salvador, said that with food prices climbing, he and his wife were grateful for the assistance and felt comfortable visiting the mosque.

“The Bible says there should be no divisions between human beings, no racism and no prejudice,” Moreno said. “When we die, we all look the same. Rich or poor, black or white, we all go to the same place.”

By Muslim Link Staff

Muslims are getting more involved in civic activities to show their support for humanitarian causes. DC Area Muslim leaders, organizations, and youth believe their participation to improve the condition of their local community members is something that has been called upon them to do as Muslims.

Three dozen of the Washington-based Muslim American Society (MAS) Youth DC members recently took part in the Multiple Sclerosis (MS) Walk at the Reston Town Center in Reston, Virginia on April 14th, 2007.

The annual MS Walk was sponsored by Booz Allen Hamilton (BAH) located in Mclean, Virginia.  BAH is a global strategy and consulting firm who has been recognized for its support of the walk for the last decade.

According to Dua’s Elbarasse, the project coordinator of MAS Youth Give, this is the first time MAS sponsored the walk. After participating in this walk, MAS Youth DC has decided they will commit their involvement to other charitable events in order to help raise awareness of some problems such as multiple sclerosis, cancer, and homelessness.

“MAS Youth DC participated in this walk to raise awareness about this devastating disease, and raise some money which will hopefully help to find a cure,” said Elbarasse director of MAS Youth Give Project.

The goal of this walk for Muslim youth was to mobilize American Muslim children and young adults to help create a better society by instilling in them the need for public service and encourage giving to those in less fortunate circumstances.

MAS officials believe their participation in the walk coincides with their motto which is to “aim to serve the Creator by serving his creations.”

According to National Multiple Sclerosis Society (NMSS), there are an estimate of 400,000 Americans suffering from the malignant effects of the disease each year.

Although it is not certain what causes the disease, or at what age one can be diagnosed with it, NMSS encourages parents to get their children checked annually for symptoms.

Sources from NMSS said the MS Walk is not just a fundraising event, but a celebration for the entire American community.   The donations collected will fund countless national and local programs and services to treat individuals who are diagnosed with the disease and also for research purposes.

Although MAS Youth DC members have to be between the ages of 14-30, most participants brought their younger siblings, cousins, neighbors and friends with them to the walk.

On a cold, gloomy, rainy morning, these children got up out of their warm comfortable beds and carpooled to the Reston Town Center to take part in the half-day activities.

Sumayah Hassan, 20, was one of the brave, enthusiastic Muslims who took her three younger sisters to the walk.   As a biology student at George Mason University (GMU) in Fairfax, Virginia, Hassan finds interest in learning more about the consequences of infectious diseases and neurological disorders on the human body.   Her interest in the sciences of disease motivated her to influence her sisters to agree to tag along.

“The walk made me realize that we can make so much of a difference by just showing our support for someone who is suffering from an illness or have become victim of a social problem,” said Hassan.

The participants came with their umbrellas, with their toddlers, and elders on wheelchairs, and walked almost 4 miles in 1.5 hours.   The organizers collected the funds while the walkers received recognition for their good cause.  The event educated the public on the seriousness of the disease and distributed free educational brochures which provided key information regarding its effects.

The NMSS said MS is a disease that may appear one day and it could probably impair one for this rest of one’s life.   It is really one of those problems the public must be conscious of, said sources of NMSS.

Hassan wishes more Muslims would come out and support these types of causes.  Muslims were such low in numbers, but they were still noticeable and this is the best way to building human relations with people of other faiths.

She envisions Muslim families bringing their parents, and children to events like these.  “I believe this is our way of showing to the world when something affects our fellow human beings, we are feeling the pain as well and that we care,” said Hassan.

MAS Youth DC is the division of the Muslim American Society of Washington, DC that deals with young people.  MAS Youth Give program originated as a unique project of MAS Youth National and a crucial aspect of the Muhammad Awareness Campaign which started in the DC Area in October 2006.  MAS Youth Give is focused on encouraging the motivational efforts of Muslim youth to get involved in projects which help to improve the lives of the less fortunate in society.

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“You’re killing us with that smell.” She said as she walked in the door and the strong smell of the pine sol hit her like walking into a glass wall without warning.

Looking up while blinking nervously she almost screamed, “What are you trying to say?”

Defending the innocence of her remark, as merely her initial reaction to the smell, “I am just joking.”

“I don’t think this is a joking matter. What is that supposed to mean?” She said, now screaming and waving her hands in the air.

Now taking offense to the sudden change of tone she too raised her voice. “I didn’t mean anything by that.”

Shortly after the conversation fell out of earshot. A couple of seconds later…

Go knock your head on one of the walls!” She said almost shaking with anger. Then she paused and headed for the door before turning around and yelling “Stupid.”

She followed her towards the door – closely behind her “Stupid? You’re the one who is stupid!”

Then headed back inside still yelling, “Damn you. Coming in here…”

Back out of earshot.

Had I not known any better I would assume they were both slightly uncivil with shorter tempers than I have ever been exposed to.

Any better: is defined as a woman who works as a janitor of sorts in a place where her own children attend. She does what it takes to see that they get what they need.

Previously someone had made a comment, one morning a couple of weeks back:

“Wow, what are you all dressed up for?”

“Nothing in particular. Why do you ask?”

“It just seems unnecessary thats all.”

She was so hurt.

As if a cleaning lady can’t look nice, because she does a dirty job.

Not that its the pinesol lady’s problem, or responsibility to know or even presume such a thing.

But sometimes we need to cut people some slack.

RULE: The worse they are, the more the slack that needs to be cut.