Today while I was working, I heard my cat, Bullen, making noises in the other room. I thought it must be a bird teasing him on the balcony. A few minutes later, I took a stretch break, I went to the other room, Bullen was chattering, he was staring very curious at the curtains, I looked there, got so scared,  screamed ‘no, Bullen, come here, please’. Bullen didn’t care and he was trying to jump up on the curtain to hunt that huge black spider.

I ran fast, pulled Bullen from the curtain and scurried to my office room and locked us in it. Bullen got annoyed with me, he started miaowing loudly and scratching on the door, he really wanted to get out and catch that horrible spider.

I said ‘ok Bullen, let’s just take a quick look at the spider’. I carried him and slowly stepped out to the other room, I looked at the curtain, the spider was hanging on the corner and swinging on invisible threads. I rumbled ‘no, this’s terrifying’. The spider walked down and started running across the floor, I ran back to the office room and locked it again.

I opened the door a little to check the spider, I saw it walking freely to the kitchen, it opened the fridge and took a slice of my smoked ham. I got so annoyed, that’s my favourite ham, strangers are not allowed to eat my favourite things.

The spider turned back and looked at me, our eyes crossed, I slammed the door, my hands were sweating a lot. Bullen was standing beside me and smelling the floor, my legs started shaking, I thought the spider crawled into my room, but no, Bullen was smelling something else. I opened the door again, the spider was smoking, that’s unbelievable, the smoke detector will start chirping, that cranky spider should stop his unacceptable behaviours, even so rude that he started spitting at the wall.. what did I do to deserve such a day? The spider climbed up my shoe and laced it, he pretended to be a woman, he wore my shoes and went to the toilet, I spied at him from the corner, he was putting lipstick on his thin black lips. I screamed ‘no, that’s my beautiful lipstick, leave it’. The spider threw it and shouted at me ‘I’m beautiful.. a beautiful spider’.

I got shocked to hear his voice, Bullen seemed to not hear anything, he was still scratching on the door.

It is difficult to leave poor countries
just thinking about travel is a dream or a fantasy
it’s complicated and almost impossible.

The sea is wide and terrifying
it will eat you up like shipwrecks
Give up the escape
please do not commit suicide
do not throw yourself in the huge sea.

That wonderful day will come
when you spit at the borders
dragging your bag towards Europe
leaving behind your life collapses.

You will learn the languages of rich countries
you will try hard to use the fork and knife
you will face the white world with fear
Because it won’t be as you expected
a piece of cake will cost you a lot
and that piece of life you dreamt of
will be divided by trains and buses..
and time passes fast everywhere
in poor and rich countries as well
so please
do not commit suicide
do not throw yourself from the bridge.

I’m telling you a story of my memories…

It was at the beginning of the 2013 summer; it was a rainy day and it was my last day in Sweden that time. As always, I got lost, I took the wrong metro and therefore it took me an hour to know the right direction and to go back to Hornstull where you all were waiting for me at the Stage bar. I had never met you before. I was nervous, how will it be to sit at the same table with lesbians, two married women! I was the shy, conservative Arabic girl who hadn’t discover the world yet.

Eventually I arrived, I put my shopping bag under the table while you asked me in a very friendly way ‘show us what you bought’. I didn’t do it, I didn’t know how to behave and talk, because I was still nervous. I only said, ‘I bought some gifts for my family in Gaza’.

One year later, I moved to live in Sweden. I was thrilled of my new life, excited and afraid of new things. Everything was new, even the air of this country was new.

Then, Eva, I met you again. It was at the same bar, Stage. I was still nervous. But  meeting after meeting, I realized how wonderful you were. You and your wife, Camilla, were very curious about me as an Arab and about my culture.

At that time, I was newly coming out from a war and I needed friends, or someone to talk about what I left and what I carried in my heart and memories from my home city. And you were always there to listen to me and to pat my shoulder.

It became a part of my daily routine, to pass by Stage to check if you were there, so I could join you and Camilla. It was my best part of the day, to see you and talk about anything. You were my ideal of the strong woman who pushed me to change my life and to say ‘No’. You were also the big sister for me who gave me advises without hesitating.

Last week, I passed by Stage and went inside, I wanted to see you there, as before, and to join you, but there were only memories of you.

I’m one of many of those who learnt a lot from you.

You planted memories in us, and they will bloom forever.

Sleep well.

I laugh blue

since I always lived close to the sea.

I cry red

because I witnessed three wars.

I see gray

all the houses built of concrete

and no one painted them.

I walk green

everywhere there are trees.

I remember pink

strong women fight cancer.

I sing dreams

because my throat is full of colors.

I came to Sweden from Gaza. And to live in Stockholm means a lot for a woman like me who came from such a complicated part of the world. I have gone through various levels of comparing my life before and after leaving Gaza. I compared everything – all from the culture and even to the tap water! Yes, we do have water in Gaza, but it isn’t as clean as in Sweden. I always get into unfair comparative thoughts. I know that I shouldn’t compare, and if I continue, I’ll get sick, although it’s sometimes healthy to do it.’

My life in Gaza was very different, my freedom was very limited, my behaviours were controlled, my everything was not mine. I could go to the school, that was great. I was lucky that my family cared a lot about educating us siblings equally. Because many families didn’t allow their daughters to proceed studying after graduating from secondary school. One of those unlucky women was a friend of mine, she got high grades and her dream was to study English language in order to become a teacher. But her father did forbid her from fulfilling that dream.

I remember her very well; how smart she was. We kept in touch since we were living in the same neighbourhood. She wasn’t allowed to leave home for meeting her old friends from the school and therefore she spent all the time indoors, cleaning, cooking, taking care of her younger siblings and doing other things she didn’t want to do. One passionate interest that she was allowed to do was reading books. I used to pass by her home to lend her books, I’m still happy that I could be a small hand in giving her a help to make her happy.

My family allowed me to study at the university; nevertheless they were very traditional and conservative. I was only allowed to leave home for going to the university. Otherwise my father would get angry and punish me by not giving me money. I didn’t get afraid of him when he got angry and shouted at me, because I knew that he wasn’t violent and that he later would ask my mother to talk to me and tell me that I should go to him and say ‘sorry’. In that case, my mother acted   as a diplomatic person between my father and me. Sometimes when I went to my father to ask him to forgive me, I went just because I needed money or to be nice to my poor mother who suffered from being a wife of such a stifling man.

I tried my best to use the time I spend at the university, I skipped some classes to go with my friends to the sea or for other purposes. My father’s angry face followed me everywhere and that made me scared, but also rebelled. So, I started to go for shopping after the university and meeting friends at cafés, going back home late. Women late time according to my father’s clock was 16:00. But I stayed outside one extra hour. It was my hour of freedom.

In Stockholm, all hours are my hours of freedom. I can go everywhere I want. I never feel controlled or limited. In the beginning I was screwed to my days back in Gaza. I went to my Swedish languages (SFI) and then directly went back to home. I was lost between ‘before and after Gaza’.

Once, my classmates invited me to a dinner. We went after the school to a big supermarket and started shopping stuff for the dinner. We were from different countries – Japan, China, Russia and Bosnia. Each one of us had had diverse cultural upbringings. We bought vegetables, rice, chicken breasts and beer. Then we went ahead to the ‘Chinese flat’ where we were supposed to cook the dinner. We started preparing the sushi, pancakes, Arabic salad… I was cheerful to cook with friends for the first time in my life. It felt something big, but for my friends it wasn’t. They seemed to enjoy the gathering as a normal thing which they have done before. And that evening, I had my first sushi ever, my Japanese friend made it very well and she thought that I was joking when I asked her ‘What is this food you’re making’. And then I asked her ‘what’s the green paste?’. She said ‘wasabi, be careful, it’s hot’. I got excited, finally something hot, I used to eat very spiced food in Gaza. I slathered three pumps of the paste on my piece of avocado sushi, and I felt like my nose was burning. My friends laughed at me, and I did as well!

After food, our friend brought a box full of nail polishes. We were amazed by the elegant colours and started discussing which brand is better quality and which colour a woman should wear in the summer … I was just listening to them and didn’t take part in their discussion. I felt shy and strange! I didn’t remember the last time I painted my nails, perhaps it was at my brother’s wedding which took place three years ago. I wasn’t allowed to use nail polish, because it’s haram, my father decided many beautiful things to be haram. But that night I coloured my nails shiny silver – my hands looked soft and I felt feminine.

Time passed quickly at my friend’s place, suddenly it was about 23:30. I got very worried. Why? I don’t know exactly, maybe I imagined my father’s angry face… but I was in Stockholm. I embarked the metro and walked towards where I live. I was very happy to discover the world after 16:00… at midnight.