What's so special about Arab countries anyway?

For a lot of people at home, our perception of Arab countries and people comes from what we see on the news.  War torn lands, refugees fleeing, dictators and human rights abuses are the messages we are bombarded with.  And dismally, for some people and places, this is the case.  But what about the other side of the coin?  There has to be some good, right?

I remember going into an office where I worked last year in Edinburgh and saying 'good morning' to a colleague who literally blanked me and walked on by, clutching her coffee.  There is a definite possibility that this person just didn't like me (I can be annoyingly perky at work) but there is also something about the way we greet each other.

The Arabic language, frustratingly difficult though it is, is rich and beautiful.  There are so many ways to greet each other that form a lovely daily ritual.  My favourite exchanges are between men, calling 'habibi' (my beloved) to each other in the street or across offices, and women, warmly greeting each other with a minimum of 3 kisses on cheeks.    It is not unusual to ask each other several times in one conversation 'how are you?', a pretty little conversational dance I have grown to adore.

This also reflects the slower pace of life and difference in priorities in comparison to what I am used to at home.  In the NGO office where I'm doing an internship, my manager takes the time to chat with me every morning about life and work, it might only be for 5 minutes but they are an important 5 minutes that make my morning positive and motivating.  In the afternoon, the team enjoy an impromptu lunch of  a variety of delicious snacks from the local supermarket, everyone sharing together.  There is an Arabic saying 'salt and bread' which is used to highlight the importance of sharing food together in building friendships, and it's really true.  I love these moments, particularly when someone passes the office and is immediately invited to join us and should refuse a minimum of 3 times before they are allowed to leave!

In Tunisia, I am ashamed to say that for the first time in my life, I saw children as a wonderful part of society as opposed to seeing them as mainly noisy and annoying.  At home, we have parks and cinemas etc, but all too often children are put in adult environments and told to 'behave like grown ups'.  Here, children are allowed to be children regardless of where they are and appreciated as they are.  Thanks to the closeness of extended families, inter-generational relations are also far more common place.

The next one is perhaps a little biased, but hey, it's my blog and I'll write if I want to :)  Imagine, we each had an invitation throughout the day to take 5 minutes to relax, breathe and refocus on what's important.  This is how I feel about the 'adhan', call to prayer.  I love hearing it, I love watching people stop, taxi drivers in car parks putting their heads to the ground seeking peace and refuge from life's daily stresses.  Even if you don't accept the invite, you know it's always there!

Finally, it's the feeling of being safe, which being a woman in this world is more of a luxury than a right.  It may sound strange to say I feel safe in Palestine, of course I'm talking about personal safety and as a visitor I am not living the same experience as Palestinians of checkpoints, soldiers and daily violence committed against them.  However, in the Ramallah streets or in the avenues of Tunis, I feel protected.  Palestinians lived for years without formal law enforcement like police, well respected community leaders were responsible for justice and did so through mediation.  No justice system is perfect but perhaps the sense of 'us' as a community as opposed to 'us and them' created a greater sense of security.

I would like to end this post by sharing an Arabic proverb with you which reflects my experience of living in Arab countries, with the kindest people I've ever known;

Ahlan wa Sahlan (welcome)

It has been my dream to visit Palestine for 10 years, and finally, I am here.

Palestine doesn't have its own airport or control over its own borders because of the Israeli illegal occupation of the land so I, with a heavy heart, flew into Tel Aviv.

On the British government travel advice page, people flying into Israel are warned that their personal email and social media accounts may be accessed by Israeli authorities as a condition of entry.  Any evidence of intention to visit Palestine is mostly likely to result in hours of questioning or immediate removal - first flight home and banned from Israel.  Having a Muslim name or if you have visited other Arab countries are also likely to lead to refusal of entry.  'Security' is the reason given for such blantant racism.

So because of my birthplace, name and a little luck, I was paid little attention to and passed through immigration without problem. 

A family I met in Tunisia collected me from the airport and I spent my first days with them in their home in Ramallah.  Whilst I would like to publicly thank everyone here who has shown me great kindness, and tell their stories, at this stage I am apprehensive to do so in case of any repercussions for them by the Israeli authorities.

Ramallah is a very cosmopolitan city, with cafes, bars and restaurants and a wealth of internationals who work, volunteer or visit.  However, the apartheid wall which separates Israel from Palestine and is illegal under international law, is a cruel reminder that this is anything but a normal city for its inhabitants.

Crossing checkpoints can take hours and you never know how long Israeli soldiers will make you wait or why.  I've heard countless stories of women giving birth at checkpoints and others dying there, unable to pass even by ambulance.

Now I'm living in a refugee camp in Bethlehem supporting an artist who has a disability.  The camp has had soldiers raiding homes in the night twice since I arrived 2 days ago. This is life for Palestine's children. Yesterday we heard about an Arab bus driver who was beaten and hung by Israeli settlers, he was 32 years old and a father.  The news reported this as suicide.

Today, 4 Israelis have been killed in Jerusalem and it has been reported as 'the most deadly terror attack in 6 years.'

This year over 2000 Palestinians, including women, children and the elderly have been killed by the Israeli forces and settlers.  The violence committed against Palestinians happens every second they breathe with every house demolition, every soldier occupying heir land, every checkpoint, every blocking of food and medical supplies and every tear gas canister and bullet fired.

The prime minister Netanyahu has already promised a heavy handed response, which we know means the collective punishment of all Palestinians.

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.  

Thank you Tunisia

The day to say goodbye came far too quickly and there was no way to prepare myself.   I said goodbye to so many friends and colleagues and people who have treated me as a member of their family.  Soon I'll say goodbye to my home and my wonderful flatmates ( a word which sadly doesn't do them justice!).  I don't want to imagine the moment when my feet will leave Tunisian land, the very country that grounded me, that shaped me.

My leaving presentation was full of surprises and I was so incredibly touched and overwhelmed by all the videos, messages, poems, dance shows, gifts and guests.  Firstly, we planted a lemon in the 'Palestine corner' of the youth centre I helped to create.  Then it was time for me to make a final speech and show a short video about my experiences here.  It's so frustrating that there are no words to describe the year, no words to show how much you all mean to me.  I hope that one day, somehow, I can repay you all for every kind and humble gesture.

This is my goodbye - 

We're guilty in the U.K of believing that 'our way is best', that living any other version of life than our own equates to inequality, oppression, narrow-mindedness and a variety of other self-indulgent arrogances.  The best thing I, and any other volunteer can gain from this experience, is to appreciate that your logic, your morals and values and beliefs do not necessarily translate across the world -  and to date, no country is nearing perfect.   I've learned so much in Tunisia, from Tunisians, from their culture and Islam.  They are far richer in many ways than we are at home.  So take the best.

As well as traditional carpets and clothes and ceramics, I'm taking back some priceless gifts which will stay with me for a lifetime.  The importance of family, modesty, the strength and character of women, hospitality and the presence of children in your life makes everything worthwhile!

Last March I predicted in my journal how quickly my year volunteering in Tunisia would pass.  However I could never have predicted the people I would meet and how every single one of them would become a part of the person I am.

Thank you to each and every person I have met in this year.  To AJMEC Association, Xchange Scotland and the British Council for making it possible.

Volunteering Abroad; The why, the where and the how to!

When I was 12, I travelled to Romania with a family friend to visit an orphanage there which was receiving support from a U.K charity.  This was in 1999, when you could still see children living in drains, sniffing glue on the streets and worse.  The conditions were terrible.  But my childhood memories of Romania, are of friendships, love, kindness, playing and sunshine.  With one exception which stays in mind.  It was my last day and last goodbye to the girl who had become my best friend.  Normally strong and full of bravado, I watched her eyes fill with tears as she removed her bracelet and placed it on my wrist, a small link between our two very different worlds.  I was going home from what had been my exciting adventure and she was returning to her reality.  The unfairness of it all was too much, we were the same, so why didn't she get the same as me?  It's an experience that ignited something inside of me and that grows stronger all the time.  Inequality may be something we live with but it does not mean we should accept.

During the course of my studies I regularly organised  fundraising events and volunteered with a variety of not for profit organisations, in particular, educational charity 'Show Racism the Red Card'.  I also worked part-time but never found any salary or position which was as rewarding as my volunteer work.  It developed my confidence, self-worth and helped to nurture me into a young woman with strong ideas and opinions and self belief!

The European Voluntary Service program was an opportunity to gain further experience in the voluntary sector and in a completely new culture and way of life.  I chose Tunisia.  All expenses paid plus a monthly allowance, there was literally nothing stopping me.

My average week here involves language lessons, organising activities for sick children in hospital, calligraphy lessons and taking part in/organising activities in a local youth centre.  It involves laughter, spending time with the most wonderful children and young people, being immersed in a culture that exudes peace, kindness and selflessness.  It involves travel, reawakening of the senses, leaving behind the expectations of the society I grew up in and finding my own rules to live by.




The program is open to those between the ages of 18-30, you can opt for a short-term project (2months) or the maximum term 12 months.  You can also take part in one short project for 2 months and then another for 10 months if you wish.  There are so many amazing locations (ofcourse I'd recommend Tunisia!) and associations you can get involved with.  So if you've been reading my blog wishing you could do something similar, ask yourself, what is actually stopping me?  Life is too short, don't miss out on the opportunity of a lifetime!

Feel free to email me at KimberleyDavidson@hotmail.co.uk if you would like any more information or you can visit the links below!  Start your dream today!

EVS information

My Tunisian association, AJMEC

My Scottish association, Xchange Scotland

Tunisia 2012: A Transition Period

I know that physically, I look like a completely different girl to the one who left Edinburgh in March.  My level of attention to my appearance is probably about 10% of what is was.  Gone are the days of fake tan, false eyelashes and skyscraper heels. Gone, and good riddance I might add! 

Even in my personality I'm told there is a change, but it's been harder for me to recognise.  I've always known who I am on the inside, it was being comfortable enough to reflect that on the outside that was difficult.  

The pressure I felt as a young woman in the U.K was not only about aesthetics, although that in itself is enough to make anyone crumble quicker than a dropped compact.  It was the daily rat race to perfection, to have a dazzling night life, dream job, dream wardrobe, planned holidays, sporadic weekends and of course, not forgetting to photograph every single moment for Facebook, just in case others were in doubt that you do in fact love your life.  Or not.   

I probably fooled most.  Thank God I didn't fool myself.  Coming to Tunisia was one of the best decisions I've made in my life.  

One of the first things that struck me about Tunisia, is the lack of advertisements.  Where on earth was all the stuff I HAD to buy?  And where were those perfect half naked women that were put on this earth to make the rest of us mere humans feel bad about ourselves?  Everything that was so real, so part of my everyday life at home, had dissolved somewhere between the North Sea and North Africa.  There also isn't the same culture of celebrity and gossip magazines.   After 6 months without it, when I was faced with a copy of 'Heat'  magazine, I remember feeling genuinely offended by what was being said to me, both implicitly and explicitly.   Telling me 21 ways to have higher self-esteem whilst humiliating the poor reality TV star who has put on a few pounds.    

Now it goes without saying that there are pressures on women here too, each society has it's own problems. However as a 'westerner' coming here, it's like a cleansing of the mind.  I feel like I've regained a human sense of reality, with real human values at the core.  So what's important?  The same things that deep down we all care about in the U.K, family, friends and being a good person.  The difference is that here, these things take priority, without exception.  The western world teaches us to focus on the things on the surface and that that will make us happy on the inside.  In Tunisia, it's the contrary.

I watch teenage girls here going to school, in their trainers, jeans and blazer, looking liked fresh-faced children, which is what they are.  They're not plastered with make-up and dressed like girls in their twenties.  We need to take a good look at our youth in the U.K, at our young women and ask ourselves, how does our society nurture them?  Because as long as we continue to churn out images of unrealistic beauty and scathing attacks on women deemed 'too fat' or 'ugly', the '21 ways to better self-esteem' will be lost in the bottom of the make-up bag.  And I think, they deserve better.


This post is dedicated to my dear friend Lucia Spata.  'Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not discovered until they arrive.'


Interestesed in doing something similar?

Useful Links  - British Council - European Voluntary Service
                      - AJMEC Association, Tunisia
                       - Xchange Scotland