Childhood Junkie

"Childhood is what you spend the REST of your life trying to overcome."

-- from the movie Hope Floats

An adult's childhood usually keeps flashing before his/her mind's eye. As years go by, you can't help but reaching out to the child you used to be. It is inescapable.. we carry our childhoods with us to the grave. Thinking about it, I find the above quote to be the truest thing ever said about childhood. Growing up in the third world is not exactly happy. Being a female child in a conservative society sets limits to how childish you are allowed to be. Our generation joins the same pool of memories. There was not much variety then. We all watched the same TV channels (only 2 back then). We all went to Alexandria for summer vacations. We all went to governmental or old private schools. We all saw the Egyptian national team playing in the World Cup when "heaven's justice found its way to Balermo Stadium."

Parents in the third world take it for granted that kids will find their way. Back then, parents never thought it was necessary to learn about parenting. They experimented with their children. And they always prefered easy solutions to end any situation.. like screaming at a noisy child to shut up.. or threatening him/her. Most of our parents had financial problems. They cared so much about educating their children, and they always pushed us to score the highest grades.

It was the trend in the 80s to be preoccupied with financial security. This time witnessed a massive wave of immigration. And those who stayed in Egypt had to work several jobs in order to be able to face the huge rise in prices. Money was talking and everybody was all ears. We don't own the right to blame them. Things are much easier said than done. And those who are criticizing the generation to whom our parents belong have got no idea about what they were going through. It was a tough time for everybody.. adults and children. Education was deteriorating and schools were packed with unqualified teachers whose basic task was to stuff the kids' minds with whatever is written in their textbooks. As children we did not study, we memorized. We were supposed to be able to read our textbooks with our eyes closed. Such a skill was later on discovered to be useless and resulted in millions of unemployed youth who are now ending their lives by the Italian shores.

We.. a generation raised in fear. Fear of adults.. Fear of exams.. Fear of the future.. Fear of society.. Fear of God. We had no clues. We were left behind in the absence of a view to govern us. We were denied any useful experience or knowledge. We felt like a burden on our families who were toiling to satisfy our needs. We didn't want to disappoint them, even if they had disappointed us many times. And we struggled with life as best as we could. We.. a generation raised in weakness. Physical weakness (rarely encouraged to play sports with playcourts disappearing from our schools, and sports clubs being too expensive).. Cultural weakness.. Financial weakness.. Low self-esteem.. Dependency. We dwelt in the allies of narrow minds and low ceilings.

Our homes were noisy, but empty of dialogue. You can hear people shouting, kids playing, TV turned on, music of the new generation singers, with additional background noise from the streets. But silence filled the air. Parents only asked their children a few questions like "Did you do your homework? When are your exams? What happened to your new schoolbag? Are you still kicking stones with your shoes?"

As a child, I tried to talk more with my parents.. but they were either too tired or too busy. Air conditions were not so common at homes back then, and the summer heat sucked all their energy. In winter, it was so difficult to keep warm. I liked to curl up beside my mom in bed. She always fell asleep while watching TV. And I had to wrap myself in a woolen blanket while doing my homework. Dad came home at night, and I was usually awake. We drank tea and eat cheese sandwiches before I went to bed. I had to wake up very early to be able to catch the schoolbus. In winter, the morning light could hardly be seen at 6:00 am when I left home. I walked for about 5 minutes while shivering, usually followed by stray dogs, until I reached the place where I waited for the bus. I come back in the afternoon to an empty home. Our neighbor hears our door being opened.. She opens her door to check that it is me.

• "Hi ya tante. How are you?"
• "Hi, Fantasia. Come in and have some food with us."
• "Thank you. I'm not hungry. How are A, M, N, and Y (her children)?"
• "They are having dinner. Please join us."
• "You're always generous, tante. I'll eat with mom and dad. They'll be back soon."
• "OK, my dear. Lock the door well and always check who is there before you open."
• "Of course. Don't worry. Have a nice dinner. Excuse me."

I changed my clothes, put my shirt and socks in the laundry basket, turned on the water heater, measured 2 cups of rice and put them in a big tray, sat at the dinning table and started searching the rice for tiny solid objects (we did not have the ready packed rice back then). Once I finish, I set it aside and start washing and cutting vegetables for the salade. After a while my mother came home and took over from there. My mother was always tired and while we had dinner she didn't utter a word. I tried having a conversation with her several times, but she always avoided opening up. I try talking about what happened at school, doing my best to make it sound funny. "Can you imagine? The girl actually told the teacher the nobody understood anything of what she said. haha.. And the teacher kept asking her what exactly didn't you understand. Then the girl said 'Everything'." If I considered something like that to be funny, my mother made sure not to laugh, and then she would warn me against being rude to my teachers: "Do you know how much we pay to keep you in this school? We could have easily sent you to a school near us for half the fees. But we want you to have the best education. This girl is so bad, keep away from her or teachers will have a negative impression about you."

I so much wanted to tell her how much I appreciate what they were doing. I so much wanted to tell her not to be so serious all the time. I was just trying to cheer her up. My attempt failed, but I didn't deserve a reminder and a warning. I wished my mom was less serious at times. I knew that she could not bring herself to see anything other than the possible negative influence that this classmate might have on me. She thus used this opportunity to play her role as a parent. But I could not help feeling hurt. I kept thinking: "Can't we communicate on a human level, away from this mother/child scenario? Can't she say anything other than giving instructions and warnings? Why does my age seem to prevent me from being treated as a person? Why must a child always be addressed as an inferior? Yes, I am young.. but I can communicate with adults. I understand how you feel and I can get you out of this mood. Why don't you give me a chance?"

• "Fantasia!"
• "Huh? Yes, mom."
• "Did you hear what I said?"
• "Yes, sure mom. I don't approve of what she did. But it was not usual to hear this in class."
• "OK. After you finish your food, clean your plate. Will you take a nap?"
• "No, I don't think so. I've got an oral test tomorrow, and there's so much homework to do."
• "Alright. Don't waste your time so that you can sleep early. Don't watch too much TV."
• "I'll only watch one show and the evening news."
• "Evening news? Do you understand anything from the news?"
• "Yes.. I.. think I do. I tell dad all the news when he returns home."
• "Did dad ask you to watch the news for him?"
• "No. I watch it anyway. I like knowing what's going on with the world. They also show interesting stuff from around the world right after the news in Nafezzah 3ala El3alam (A Window View on the World)"
• "That's not for your age dear. You should watch Cinema Elatfal (Kids' Cinema), Mama Nagwa, Baba Maged.. Things that suit your age, Fantasia."
• "I watch those too. And I like watching the news and 3alam elteknologya (World of Technology)."
• "I am so worried about you, Fantasia. You don't want to live your age."
• "There's no need to worry, mom. Tell you what?.. Why don't you watch TV with me? I always want to know more about many things I see on TV."
• "But I don't like watching the news. Besides, I have many things to do around the house. Maybe tomorrow."

Needless to say.. Tomorrow never came. And as I was growing up I realized that I didn't know Fantasia. It suddenly hit me in the face.. Lack of real communication or experience handover made all the orders and warnings become pointless.. And whatever came between those two were lies. How were we able to forgive our parents for lying to us? All adults lie to children. All adults think that they must lie to children. All adults don't feel ashamed when they lie to children. Children?.. Who are the children? What age removes you from the childish category to place you on the other side? And once you step in, how do you stop being a child? Is it supposed to be an automatic process? Or are you supposed to do some ritual or rite of passage?

Egyptian children are considered childish until they marry off. Can you imagine a 30 year old child?! I don't know what to call this.. hilarious, sad, rediculous, pathetic, crazy.. what?.. Growing up becomes a child's own responsibility, because no one will be ready to accept a third adult at home. And if you are a girl, you can't move out before you get married. The amount of money you make is irrelevant. We're talking traditions and customs here. Are you outta your mind? Live alone? Do you want to disgrace your parents? In Egypt a girl stays at her daddy's home until she finds the groom. The only option becomes launching yourself into adulthood.. but secretly. If your parents find out about your plans, they would consider it as a rebellious attempt. They would get too scared that they might react negatively, placing more restrictions on you. So, hushhhhhhhh.. you take care of yourself.. Grow up without anybody knowing about it. And I walked out of childhood on tip toes.

Is God a Man or a Woman?

Have you ever wondered about this? I know that our parents and teachers always discourage us from asking any questions related to God.. God as an Entity.. God as a Being.. God as a Material Presence. Yet, you can never shut up a child's imagination.

That was not the first inquiry I had about God. Like any other child, you expect me to have went through all the usual details of "What is God?", "Where is He?", "Why can't we see Him?", and so on. Never was I able to find an answer, or let me say.. a solid convincing answer.. to any of those questions. Everything I was told, after the warnings and threats of course, was so evasive.. Barely causing me to have a dangled chin and go like: "Huh?"

One might think that he/she is the only one having a problem understanding the answers that others are trying to make him reach. After all, the people uttering all this nonsense looked as if they were so sure and so serious about the "information" (if I can call it so) that they are giving. How funny it is, when you grow up to discover that those people had absolutely no idea about what they were talking about. Why didn't they just say that they didn't know? Why do they feel obliged to give answers? Why did they try making up meaningless sentences to confuse the person who is asking?

Apparently (as I've come to learn later), everything has a reason.. Doesn't have to be logical or real.. But there must be a reason somewhere.

For 3 whole years, I was forbidden to attend religion classes at school. Each teacher cleverly passed the wisdom to his colleagues, so they didn't even have to see for themselves why I deserved such a "punishment". I don't know what I did wrong then. School is all about curious students searching for answers, and experienced teachers satisfying this curiosity. I really didn't care to receive a definite answer.. All I wanted was anything that would aid me during my search. Or even a simple "I don't know," so that I can go on asking someone else.

Anyway, my questions were considered a crime.. Religion teachers thought that I intended to make fun of them and embarrass them in front of the whole class. They didn't even care to tell me those charges against me.. It was enough that I received the final sentence: No More Religion Classes for You.

On the other hand, you might find it extremely surprising that I passed all my religion exams. Of course they wanted to get rid of me.. They never dared to discuss my answers. I don't know what took place while my answers were being graded.. Probably I was the reason behind many heated debates among those great teachers.. Whatever took place inside that grading room, the result was that I passed and was never allowed to see my answer sheet.

It was clear they feared me. Maybe they thought I was demonized.. Or they simply didn't want me to awake any doubts or inquiries that have been resting in peace, buried deep down in their subconscious.. Never was I given a chance to question anything divine.

You may wonder: "what could she have done to deserve all this?" What sort of question did I ask?.. Well, normally the situation didn't reach this far as a result of a single question. My annoying habit of inquiring about reasons behind everything I heard.. along with openly objecting that some ideas were not clear enough.. in addition to seeking to verify that I understood the right meaning explained by the teacher.. all this made me unwelcomed. But sure, there was the straw that brought about all the catastrophic consequences.. It was the question you read in the title.

I don't remember what that day's class was about.. Still I can remember every single thing that happened after I raised my hand, requesting permission to ask about something.. I know what you might be thinking now.. No, I never regretted asking.

-"Yes, Fantasia."

-"Mr. M, We always refer to God using the pronoun 'He'. Why's that?"

-"That's how God ordered us to call him."

-"Does this mean that God is a man?"

-"No, no. Of course not! May God protect us from the devil! God is not a man. He created all men and women."

-"Yes, I know that. But we suppose that God is a man, cause we use 'He' to refer to him, right?"

-"No. We use 'He' because we only have 2 pronouns in Arabic. And 'he' is perefered to 'she'."

-"Why is that? I believe they are both the same, but one refers to the male and the other to the female."

-"Don't you know that in Arabic when we want to refer to a group of girls, we say 'honna' (plural female pronoun in Arabic)."

-"Yes."

-"What if this group had 100 girls and one boy?.. In this case we say 'hom' (plural masculine pronoun). So can you now see that a single 'he' in the middle of 100 'honna' is able to change the pronoun to the masculine?"

-"OK. Now I understand.. This means that God is a man."

-"Oh.. God forgive you. I told you NO."

-"But It can not be otherwise, Mr.. God sent us his religion in Arabic. He could have changed these language rules if He was not a man."

-"God sent his message in the language that the people spoke."

-"Did all people speak Arabic at that time? I don't think so. He chose the language and He chose the people who speak it."

-"What do you want to reach Fantasia?"

-"I want to say that God is a man. Because whether in Arabic or English or French, we refer to him with the masculine pronoun."

-"That's not right. God does not have a gender. Forget about pronouns."

-"OK. Why did he favor males to females then?"

-"God doesn't favor except those who obey him."

-"No. He has favorites. It is so clear that He wanted us to know that He is a man."

-"Fantasia, let's talk about this later. Don't waste the time of the class."

(Lots of students kept begging him to answer my questions)

"No. This is not the time to talk about such things. It is 7aram to talk about God in this way."

-"Mr, it seems that you insist that God is not a man. OK.. Is God a woman?"

-"WHAT?!!.. Are you crazy?.. Beg for God's forgiveness! Beg for God's forgiveness!"

-"Why? I didn't insult God. And you were not angry when I asked if God is a man. What's wrong with asking the other way round?"

-"You do not realize the huge sin you are committing.. I am not willing to burn in hell because of a crazy girl like you."

-"What sin? I am only asking.. Why will you burn in hell if you answer me? Does God hate women that much? Why did He create them then? And if God has no gender, why will it be a sin to refer to God as 'She' for example?"

-"Enough Fantasia. Go out! Out!.. I have put up with your madness for so long. That's enough."

I left.. And as soon as I closed the door behind me, Mr. M. kept warning all the students that anyone who will ask similar questions about God will burn in hell for eternity. He kept shouting and shouting, till he was almost out of breath. He could have had a heart attack on this day. When the bell rang, he rushed out of the classroom, clearly avoiding seeing me. The next time I met him, he told me that I can never attend his classes again.. If I want to succeed in religion, I have to shut up during his class and never utter a word, or else I was not welcomed at all.

I refused to be treated in such a way.. I didn't commit a crime. God said that people must seek knowledge. He didn't mention that we should exclude Him while seeking that knowledge.. The thought of having the choice of not attending was far more better than sitting like a silent dog in the classroom. How can a student learn when his/her inquiries will be punished by eternal damnation?.. Which questions are fine to ask and which must a student avoid?.. How will someone have true belief in something that he/she is not even able to inquire about?.. Why did God create curiosity in young minds?.. I won't shut up Mr. And I don't want to succeed in your subject. I will gladly bear the cross that you tied on me.

Young Fantasia was being discriminated against by a religion teacher!.. He feared that her question will throw him in eternal hell. It never occured to him that discrimination is an actual sin. It never occured to him that refusing to perform his duty towards one of his students is a sin. It never occured to him that terrorizing his students with eternal damnation is a sin. And it never occured to him that.. after all.. God could be a woman!

What is Fantasia's Shrine?

Welcome to Fantasia's Shrine! That's the place where I retreat every now and then to reflect upon my mental and spiritual journey. I will let you take a peek into what goes inside my mind as I attempt to unravel the world around me one thread at a time. It's taken me a long way to reach where I stand now. But God knows how long it will take me to reach where I want to land, or whether I shall ever make it to that destination during my lifetime. All I can do is try and keep trying, think and keep thinking, believe and keep believing.

My inner peace stems from the thought that I am in continuous motion. My mind is never allowed to rest, it's true. Yet, it is in the midst of this mental toiling that I feel most alive. How could I put my mind to sleep when there are so many questions buzzing inside? My enigmatic existence in this universe makes me wonder about endless things. From finding answers to generating more questions, ideas keep playing their favorite game with my head. I then find myself expanding my inquiries and diving deep into mysterious realms. Waves may left me up once and may push me deeper many times. I'm determined to search for my pearl, even if it lies at the end of the world. The quest is on.

So, I'm lighting my candles.. Meditating inside my shrine, where the most sacred prayers are being held. It is there that life gains meaning. It is there that randomness is transformed into order. It is in the privacy of my shrine that all my mental demons are let loose. They are allowed to roam about and bring me back the truth. And as I sit in this holy spot, I embrace a light that warms my heart. I suddenly discover where I belong. I learn new rituals to nourish my soul. And I grow wings that lift me high above.. above the prison walls.. above the iron gates.. above the darkness of narrow streets.. above the fear of blind herds.. and above the lies which pollute the air. It all happens here.. Inside my holy shrine.. My MIND.