Going home

On 20th August, I began my long journey from Edinburgh to Tunisia, stopping in London and Paris. When the plane finally landed in Tunis, I was overwhelmed with nostalgia and as the doors opened, I took a long, deep breath.

Home.  I was finally home.

How I had longed for that day, to have a Tunisian stamp in my new passport, to be greeted with 'peace be upon you', to hear Arabic again, to travel down streets called 'Rue Pakistan' & 'Rue Palestine', to disregard seatbelts and queues and to throw myself into the busy crowd and get lost forever, in jasmine and sunshine.

It's strange to go back somewhere you never really left.  Tunisia has become such a part of who I am, I can't ever leave it behind.  This time, I was there for a wedding and to visit friends and a very important little girl.  But I was also there to see if everything I felt remained.  Was 2012 merely a happy period of my life or could I have new stories, new love and life in Tunisia?

As soon as I seen Lucia, the Italian other half of me I felt myself again, maybe for the first time since I left.  We hugged in the street outside the big mosque in 'Passage' and I grabbed a fistful of her lovely little curls as I always did.  She'd stayed on after I left and was making a new home with her Tunisian half :)  As she had to work, I made plans to catch up with old and new friends in Tunis before we would travel to Sousse together.

I made the decision to meet up with someone I knew only via Facebook due to our shared love of Palestine.  I was a little apprehensive but oddly, less so than I would be in Edinburgh.  Wrongly or rightly, I have always felt safe in Tunisia.  Jihed met me with gifts of jasmine and flags from the greatest countries on earth - Tunisia and Palestine, ofcourse.  We met his sister, a writer and had a fantastic lunch in a rooftop restaurant in the medina.  They invited me to a concert at night in Carthage, Roman ruins overlooking Tunis.  To my delight, it was Shadia Mansour, a rapper from London and I was lucky enough to meet her at the end of the night.  In less than 24 hours, two people who had never met me before, gave me one of the most special days of my life.

Returning to Sousse where I spent the best year of my life was extremely emotional for me.  In one city I found myself, found soul mates & family, found love and the life I had always dreamt of.  I guess I was a little scared that my feelings would have changed, that maybe my city had become too intertwined with my feelings for the man I fell in love with there.  But very quickly I remembered that actually, my heart belongs to Tunisia, before anyone else.

I will always have a reason to go back and it's not because of one person, it is because of every person.  Jalel, my dear mentor and his wonderful family who always welcome me like their daughter and sister.  AJMEC and its members - the association who took care of me and even gave me a place to stay this time around.  My sister Mariem, who makes such a difference to this world, breaking barriers and prejudices simply by being her wonderful self, she inspires me everyday.  The beautiful little girl living in SOS children's village in Akouda, who threw her arms around me and brought peace to my heart.

Until next time, n7ebbekom (I love you all) x

'' Love is a temporary madness, it erupts like volcanoes and then subsides. And when it subsides, you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is."   - Louis de Bernières

What's that on your head? Hijab Stories

Since I started wearing the hijab on the 5th March 2013, I've said the word hijab more than 1,364,229 times.  I say it more times than I say my own name, I no longer need an introduction, apparently my hijab says it all.

Recently I attended a talk about feminism and stated how frustrating it is to spend so much time talking about the way I look - when that's exactly the opposite of what I was trying to achieve.  However, I'm learning to accept that it's something different for a lot of people and I suppose curiosity and questions are better than silence and judgement.  

Looking back over these months, there have been some really funny and beautiful moments.  So, I thought I'd write them down for the people who maybe wanted to ask but didn't in fear of saying the wrong thing or the right thing in the wrong way.

My Mum pines for 'my beautiful hair'.  Ofcourse she sees it all the time but she wants other people to see it and marvel at it's glory.  'It's such a waste for it to be hidden', a waste of what exactly I'm not sure but I promise to start making a conscious effort to swish, brush and flaunt it around the house as much as possible to get proper use out of it.  Love you Mum!

On a family trip to St Andrews, whilst they all tucked into sandwiches and wraps from 'Ye Old' whatever, I needed some spice!  After living in Tunisia for a year it's hard to taste anything without chilli.  The guy in the kebab shop was chatting away and asked where I'm from, to which I replied Edinburgh.  'No, where are you really from?'  I wasn't really sure what answer he was looking for.  He then asked me where my parents and grandparents were from.  Scotland and Scotland (I have the least exciting family tree ever).  As this was the first time this happened I was genuinely confused until I realised it was my hijab that was confusing him.  Now that I'm in on the game it's quite funny watching brains tick when I say I'm from Edinburgh.

Whilst at the YES Scotland march (please vote YES) we bumped into an old family friend.  She's a lovely woman, one of the funniest and most vivacious I've ever met actually.  Once at a dinner party she announced that my sister and I were both beautiful - 'One more beautiful than the other' (her take on an old saying apparently!).  This time she warmly embraced me and shouted 'Oh wow, look at you, you're still beautiful even with that on your head!'.  My Mum and me couldn't stop laughing, we know her and her reaction was a classic.  

Since coming home I've made a wonderful new friend called Sophie (don't be jealous old friends I love you too).  Sophie and me meet for jujube tea in cafe's where the cups don't match.  We discuss politics, feminism, religion, what's on at the Filmhouse, articles we read in the Guardian and dream jobs with human rights organisations.  She's wonderful.  The first time Sophie seen me without my hijab, her reaction was 'Oh my God, is that you?  I don't know if I like it, I mean I'm not used to it!'.  She only knows me with my scarf and it's a lovely feeling.  She readily accepts me, partly because she's a shiny star and partly because she doesn't come with any preconceived ideas about 'who I am'.

Finally, the amazing little girl who sat in her buggy on my bus home from work, pointing and giggling and sincerely asking, 'what's that on your head?'.  

The ones who didn't make the cut..........

The guy who thought it would be nice to shout abuse at me in the street, threaten to hit me and rip off my scarf.  And all the people who watched and said/did nothing.  Not cool.

The guy selling roses in Rome who was so happy that I'd converted that he started shouting about how 'not all Muslims are terrorists' in a crowded place.