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Oscars Evaluation

02 Wednesday Mar 2016

Posted by marie in dear apples, Oscars

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Dear Apples,

Did you watch the Oscars?  I did not, but I still want to talk about it.

This is the very first year that I have not only seen more than a few, but actually a majority of the year’s films. Here in Lebanon, I don’t have access to Netflix or Hulu, and the internet is far too slow for online streaming anyway, but never fear!  Pirated film shops are ubiquitous and going to the movies is a common weekend activity.

Since I’ve upped my film repertoire, this is the first time I can really appreciate the Oscars.  Now that I am eligible to make opinions as a viewer, here is my assessment of whether or not the recipients merited their awards.

Best Actress: Brie Larson, Room

Jacob Tremblay and Brie Larson in "Room" from EPK.tv

Jacob Tremblay and Brie Larson in “Room” from EPK.tv

A well deserved award, and a film that’s not for the faint of heart.  I sat down to this without having any idea of what it was about first, and I cried through the whole thing.  Don’t go into this one with your guard down like I did.  Larson was so convincing in her role, that the whole movie felt like watching live footage, which was sort of the point.  Her portrayal of a mother raising a son while both were held hostage in a shed was brave and heroic and heartbreakingly human.  She somehow turned a ghastly situation into a relatable experience that made me feel like I was living right alongside her.  The tensions, the decisions, the aches and pulls and doubts, the uncertainty of a mother doing the best she can with the circumstances she’s in are just shattering.

Favorite Quote: (Opening lines): “Once upon a time, before I came, you cried and cried and watched TV all day, until you were a zombie. But then I zoomed down from Heaven, through skylight, into Room. And I was kicking you from the inside. Boom boom! And then I shot out onto Rug with my eyes wide open, and you cut the cord and said, “Hello Jack!”

 

Best Actor: Leonardo DiCaprio, The Revenant 

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I might have given it to Jacob Tremblay for his role as Jack in Room, but that little kid still has plenty of time on his side whereas Leonardo DiCaprio’s Oscar-potential days may be running short.  Sure, Leo probably deserves to receive at least one Oscar in his lifetime, but I’m not sure this is the movie for it.  His portrayal of the character Glass in The Revenant was certainly impressive–the injured sounds coming out of his mouth alone were award-worthy–but I guess I was surprised because the acting here was mostly just physically challenging.  Manipulating his entire body to represent his severely mangled character was a feat in and of itself, and then giving life to his emotions from within those limitations made the performance truly remarkable.  And yet, despite the amazing facial expressions, straining and foaming at the mouth, I didn’t think there was enough nuance or complexity to the character’s pure desire for revenge to merit the award for best actor.  Maybe best stunt acting?  (I’m sure if I attempted any part of the role myself I would rapidly conclude that I spoke too soon.)

Favorite Scene:  It’s the most obvious one I guess.  I was totally flabbergasted by the the bear attack. Cedric said he looked over at me during this part and my mouth was hanging open.  I was totally riveted and in love with the whole scene: the bear, the man, the struggle, the cinematography.  Also the bear reminded of my little Isla in a weird way.  Something about the innocence and snorting noises.

 

Best Director and Best Cinematography: Alejandro Gonzalez Inarittu, The Revenant

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So many scenes in this film were really staggering, and it had to have been insanely difficult to pull it all together.  In my opinion, however, it would have been much better if it were considerably shorter and a bit more believable.  Glass has a few too many close calls with death, and somehow returns to better health after each one.  His first recovery after a heavy mauling by a savage grizzly was noteworthy enough, but when he could suddenly walk again after emerging from the raging waterfall cliff he fell over in his paralyzed state, I could no longer take his survival story seriously.  I don’t know how much wiggle room the director has with the script, but I thought this one was stretched a little too far.

The cinematography Oscar was entirely merited.

Second favorite scene: Being a fan of Man vs Wild conditioned me to really appreciate the scene in which Glass takes shelter inside the corpse of his horse.

 

Best Supporting Actress: Alicia Vikander, The Danish Girl

I didn’t see this one.

 

Best Supporting Actor: Mark Rylance, Bridge of Spies

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Well deserved, although surprising.  Mark Rylance brought his character to life through the perfect mix of quiet nonchalance, humble courage, and unintentional charm.  His performance was so subtle that I would have thought it slipped off the Oscar radar. Tom Hanks also deserves credit for providing just the right character dynamic that highlighted the brilliance of Rylance’s part.  My favorite scene actually didn’t involve Rylance.  It was the scene in the bar when Donovan tells off Hoffman.  Donovan’s argument there was brilliant, and reminded me of how my dad likes to approach politics.  I won’t give away any more, so see the film if you’re curious.

Favorite Quote:

James Donovan: “You have been charged with three counts and nineteen overt acts. Conspiracy to transmit United States defence and atomic secrets to the Soviet Union, conspiracy to gather secrets, and failing to register as a foreign agent.”

Rudolf Abel: “Do many foreign agents register?”

 

Best Animated Film: Inside Out

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I’m not sure about this one.  I saw the trailers long before the movie came out, and I was so excited for it.  I thought the idea was brilliant, and the clips from the trailers were hilarious.  I could’t wait to see it, but once I did, I was disappointed with it.  It wasn’t as funny or brilliant as I had anticipated.  I barely even laughed.  I wanted to see more of the humans dealing with the emotions, and felt like the animated emotions themselves sort of veered off on their own tangent story line, which I wasn’t particularly interested in.  Womp womp.

 

Sound Mixing, Film Editing, Costume Design, Production Design, Make-Up, Sound Editing: Mad Max: Fury Road

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Totally well deserved.  The sound mixing and editing was particularly incredible.  I can’t say I enjoyed this movie in the least.  I saw it when I was pregnant and nauseous, and it’s not the best film to see in that state.  I am also very queasy when it comes to having my blood taken, so I didn’t do very well with the blood lines being used as energy.  Basically I absolutely hated the film, but I can appreciate why its a favorite for so many.  The grandiose juxtaposition of chaos, greed, blind group thinking, and trying to make sense out of a senseless world struck close to home in many frightening ways.

Favorite Quote:  (obvious) “As the world fell, each of us in our own way was broken.  It was hard to tell who was more crazy, me or everyone else”

 

Best Picture: Spotlight

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Well deserved.  What a story to tell and how difficult to tell it well.  The film was hard to watch, but felt incredibly honest and factual and real.  It was told in a way that both revealed the huge ugliness and enormity of the scandal and highlighted the integrity of the journalists bringing it to light.  The spotlight was shed not so much on the priests themselves, but more on the role of those investigating the cases.  It was an example of journalism at its best, and that couldn’t come at a better time.

Favorite Scene: When Sacha Pfeiffer (Rachel McAdams) and Michael Resendez (Mark Ruffalo) are talking out on his porch one night.  Both are reeling from the discovery of just how widespread the scandal is.  Resendez, who is the team member most critical of the Catholic church at the start and most excited to take on the story, is also the one most visibly infuriated as the evidence keeps pouring in.  In a poignant moment, he admits to Pfeiffer that the hardest part for him was that he had always believed that he’d eventually return to the Church.  It was a small moment, but it was a microcosmic look at just how devastating the scandal was for thousands who had placed trust in their priests.

Favorite Quote: “If it takes a village to raise a child, it takes a village to abuse them”

Other movies I enjoyed in 2015: The Martian, Ant-Man, The Intern, The Man from U.N.C.L.E., Joy, and Burnt

 

And so it goes

21 Thursday May 2015

Posted by marie in dear apples, journal, Lebanon, travel, Uncategorized

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Dear Apples,

I am sitting here eating apple slices sprinkled with salt and listening to some very good music and wishing I could talk to you in person; I very much miss you right now.

Oh Apples what shall I do?  I am sleepy today but I have not finished my checklist for the day, and if we’re being honest, it was a very manageable checklist.  Lebanon is cooler than it was yesterday; the clouds rolled in a bit with the faintly dusty wind.  It’s soothing and I am being lulled to sleep against my will!  I walked in the morning before the sun became too omnipotent, and my hair whipped all about with the wind.  I looked for the ant parades on the side of the road, but it seems the ants only parade on Sundays.  Twice now, on my Sunday walks alone, I have seen countless parades of ants running back and forth to their hole with enormous leafs and crumbs and whatnot strapped to their back.  Consider the ant! Well, perhaps the only reason we consider the ant is that they have a one day work schedule while we have a five or six day work schedule, and our day off happens to fall on their work day.  “What diligence!  What perseverance!,” we say in awe.  But in reality it is we who are too busy to notice their 6 day rest.

Well these days, Apples, I am like the ant.  I am not sure I am enjoying my leisure as much though.  Instead my brain is saying “Just be patient just be patient just be patient,” while my body is fiddling around and taking long walks and doing exercises to release this tension of waiting.  Waiting for responses and for residency permits and for citizenship and for home projects.  Al mientras, in media res, in limbo land, in between, I listen to podcasts and self-soothe with posts like this, which tell me that nothing is in vain.

On the one hand, everything is new and lovely and exciting and more peaceful than ever before.  I have a love at my side for my life and still can’t believe my luck.  I am also in love with Lebanon, and having lived here before and visited since, this love is now more deep-seated and holds a greater understanding of all the beauty and frustration of the country.  I am content.  Waiting, and knowing that the waiting itself holds growth. And on the other hand?  Well I guess I forgot about the other hand after all.

All my love to you Apples.

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Lebanon: Personal Profile

21 Thursday May 2015

Posted by marie in dear apples, journal, Lebanon, travel

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IMG_7169 If countries were people and traveling was like making new friends-or enemies-let me tell you about Lebanon the Person.

Lebanon has a big generous open heart and is very curious about other people and loves getting to know them. She will take good care of you and invite you into her circle and show you the best she has to offer and almost suffocate you with her need to make sure that all your needs are met. She will offer you the mountains and the sea and the heat and the snow and tremendous thunderstorms followed by months of sunshine.  She will feed you more than you will ever be able to eat.

She has a wonderful sense of humor, and puts you at ease and even loves to make jokes at her own expense, but with a healthy sense of fondness. She likes to enjoy life.  She knows who she is.  She is very established in her personhood and is not afraid to give her opinion.  She is definitely an extrovert and wears her emotions on her sleeves.  She will talk to you ceaselessly and likes to mix her languages in a tumble of words and sounds and accents.

She is also very proud and a little hot-headed.  She thinks she is right about everything.  She can be quite demanding in some ways, but somehow balances it out with a lenient and open attitude.    She is sort of quixotic in that she values her past but is also impatient to rush into her future, and always feels that she is behind in this way.  She can be quite picky and anal and likes to make processes long and painful.  She loves to argue and have the last word.  But just when you think you’ve had enough of her, her beauty and old wisdom and laughter will win you right back over to the heart of her.

Settling In

11 Monday May 2015

Posted by marie in dear apples, everyday poems, journal, Lebanon, travel

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IMG_6884 Dear Apples,

Last week, I found myself sitting in front of my laptop and –quite miserably–observing the various achievements of creative individuals, whose beautiful websites appeared in droves at the merciless commands of my own browsing.  Crowded tabs of virtual success stories popped up one after the next, while I found my shoulders slinking further down as I considered the companies I have not started, the books I have not written and the Great Unknowns of my current state of affairs. I was recently talking with a friend about career paths, and we were both commiserating about how so many others have quite specific skill specializations, or a drive to produce that seems greater than the uncertainty of the outcomes.  I, on the contrary, feel myself to be carried along by the flow of life; I perceive myself to be a recipient of circumstance rather than a molder and shaper.  And yet, I am not sure whether or not this is an accurate explanation of where I am and how I arrived at this point.  It’s quite clear that I also chase after my desires, which is why I now find myself landed in an improbable, yet somehow delightfully fitting, life path.

Having returned once again to Lebanon after a sojourn around the UK, now newly married, and with plans to settle in for a good while, I find I need to re-center myself.  The honeymoon was lovely and surreal, but even as we were trekking through breath-taking expanses of landscape or hiking up buttery gorse scented climbs, I think we both realized that we prefer building the rhythm of daily life. The sweet mundane of home, with the challenges and joys that make it our own.

For me, though, this is all still new. I am learning the particular symbiotic between open trust and active pursuit of what I want in life.  It’s a relationship that requires a bit of discernment.  Control is mostly partial.  We have autonomy over our response to our circumstances, and over the actions we take to influence certain outcomes, but there is also the wide and wild realm of possibility and chance that is largely outside of our jurisdiction.  This is the space that I have come to respect and revere.  What has become most essential to me is an abandonment to the mystery of that which we cannot fully predict or foresee.

Here I am walking down the vibrant, aching-with-passion Hamra street in the heart of Beirut.  Here I am waking up each morning to a pack of garrulous garden roosters, and opening the window to the mountain breezes.  Moving to the balcony to enjoy an early daily coffee with my C. Here I am calling Lebanon home with a sureness that still surprises me.  Here I am feeling homesick and unravelled and often rather lost.  But I try to welcome that discomfort, because the alternative would be to clench my fists so tightly around certainty, that my life might become a series of narrow calculations.

Instead, I want to answer to the guidance that comes when I meet the demands of the present. I know that perspective is a key to the puzzle, but I don’t think this openness I am working towards is reached simply by maintaining a positive attitude.  It’s more of a virtue than an outlook, in the sense that it takes practice and work to acquire.  What an admirable trait it is to develop the courage to refuse victimhood, and to look squarely at the whole beloved broken package of yourself, and say “This is it.  Here I am. Let’s go.”  To bless your failures for the roads they take you down and the lessons they teach you.  To realize that in everything there is hope–and that hope, when chosen, is more reliable than what may appear impossible in the moment.

I know that I’ve been most amazed by life when I’ve been willing to both walk forward without being sure what’s out there, and to meet the demands of the present, here and now, and then watch in wonder at how life unfolds.

We borrowed Mary Oliver’s articulation of these thoughts for our wedding brochure:

Mysteries, Yes

Truly, we live with mysteries too marvelous to be understood.
How grass can be nourishing in the mouths of the lambs.
How rivers and stones are forever in allegiance with gravity,
while we ourselves dream of rising.

How two hands touch and the bonds will never be broken.
How people come, from delight or the scars of damage, to the comfort of a poem.

Let me keep my distance, always, from those who think they have the answers.
Let me keep company always with those who say “Look!” and laugh in astonishment, and bow their heads.

—Mary Oliver

Reflecting

10 Tuesday Mar 2015

Posted by marie in dear apples, journal

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Dear Apples,

Do you ever catch your own reflection in the mirror…and then you can’t just walk away, because you don’t know who that is looking back at you?  You have to just stop a minute and introduce yourself to Stranger You, and even though you have no idea who that person is, it’s not rude to stare as long as you want, because it’s still you in there.  You can even examine all the minutia of you.

There are very few people besides yourself on whom you can dump every last drop of curiosity without feeling self-conscious or strange.  Soon I’ll have my very own person to wonder about as much as I want to without feeling intrusive.  Isn’t that lucky?

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what help looks like

08 Sunday Mar 2015

Posted by marie in dear apples, everyday poems, journal, writing

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“I can’t name it. Not to them”

“Why?”

“Because ..what if my own struggle looks appealing somehow?”

“Why would it?”

“I have no idea, but people are strange in their desires and jealousies.”

“And then?”

“And then…they would fall.  And maybe they wouldn’t get up.  And I would watch them spiral.  And the pain would crush me”

“Is that what will really happen?”

“…Well I guess no two people are alike.  I guess I can’t foresee the outcomes.”

“Has your own struggle taught you anything?

“Probably the most important things.”

“And why would that not be true for them too?”

“Because I’ve seen people who can’t get up.  I’ve seen people alone and defeated.”

“Have you though?  Have you seen their ends?”

“Not totally.  I can’t totally.”

“What happens when you yourself spiral?”

“I cry out.”

“And are you heard?”

“Yes.  A thousand times over. And it always catches me off guard.”

“Will they not be heard if they fall?”

An archive of smiles

24 Tuesday Feb 2015

Posted by marie in dear apples, everyday poems, journal

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Tea Bag Yogi tells me today that “every smile is an achievement.”

Watch the cat wander the house looking for company, quixotic in her indecision.  She wants out, then in, then to perch in my lap, then to sit close but not overly so.  She walks the edge and can’t yield to company nor endure her own loneliness.  She paces in and out of my thought-scatter; her movement stirs up surprises there until I can see my own reflection in her soft gray mind.

The snow falls fast and layers up a quick thick inch with no sign of stopping.  There’s ice hidden in patches below, but no detecting where, so the most purposeful steps become clumsy skids and slips, making children of everyone.

A morning walk through the flat freeze of the day tells the brain to assemble an endorphin parade.  A gladness of small birds and fallen pine and rowed homes sealing the ones within, while I pass along in stillness.

The skin of the body raises in a chill before its submerging in the free fall pyramid under the shower head.  The will acquiesces to lay itself out below and feel the gentle battering of every droplet.

An inner struggle wages and I am the victor.  The impossibility of it is delightful.

The brooding of nighttime brings familiar faces before the mind and begins a run of the mishaps that could ruin them.  This time, I recognize the terror as just that, and breathe out stronger prayers, slowly and deeply, until the peace at the pit of me spreads itself out and sings me to sleep.

Lost in Translation

17 Saturday Jan 2015

Posted by marie in dear apples, journal, learning a language, Lebanon, travel

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Dear Apples,

I found a project called Journal 52, which offers weekly topics to journal about. They began in the New Year, so I’m several weeks behind, which I regretted when I saw that the first prompt was “Pathways” (because when I think of all the serendipidous pathways that have taken me to today I am almost flabbergasted), but then when I saw that the second prompt was “Just Be,” I felt much better. I don’t know what to do with such nebulous phrases that just stir up bubblegum-filtered images. Maybe that’s not the worst image in the world, but it’s also not one that elicits any thoughts that are particularly relevant or significant to my own life.

This week, however, the chosen topic “Conversation Starters” immediately garnered up all sorts of memories and sent me spiraling down curious thought-circuits. First off, I’ve been appreciating the kinds of conversations that draw out the human side of….humans, such as those highlighted by Humans of New York or the conversation starters initiated by this experiment, but then I thought of my experience with languages. The subject broaches a whole new arena for the person who stands outside the territory of a common language as I have done twice in my life, solo.

To be fair to travelers of the past, it is now difficult to find any place in the world where at least a significant portion of the population does not speak English. For me as an American, it is almost impossible to totally immerse myself amongst people who do not speak a word of English. Travel is easier in this regard. But still. I will not undermine the experience of going it alone for a long term stay (and without the immediate resources to take classes) to a country whose language you don’t speak. I have done this in both Mexico and Lebanon, and both experiences have been wonderful, aggravating and challenging in a good way. I’ve taken some notes along the way.

The difference between spending time with one person and spending time with a group of people becomes chasmic all of a sudden. When you talk with one person, chances are pretty high that the person will speak some English, and so…you can hold a conversation! If they don’t happen to speak English, you have a great opportunity to practice your Spanish or Arabic or Swahili or whatever you’re attempting to learn. However! If you are in a group setting and are an amateur speaker, you become a silent observer. The conversations swerve and twist and jolt forward too quickly for you to catch the content. By the time you’ve forced your brain to focus enough to piece together a collection of words and tones and hand gestures, the topic has changed. By the time you leave, your brain hurts, you wonder if you still have a personality, you feel even more shy and distant from people than before, and you have pretended to laugh at jokes you did not understand just to prevent people from thinking that your total lack of emotional response implies that you hate them. After awhile, you begin to become more comfortable in these settings, and you find yourself retreating to your own world. While everyone thinks you are still mentally present, you are, in fact, long gone in the recesses of your mind.

The new sounds and meanings of the language are delicious. I am a slow language-learner and can’t push myself to rush right into it. I need to hear it for awhile first, become comfortable with the sounds, begin to decipher the points where one word ends and another begins as people are talking, and then venture in myself. This whole process is wonderful. Each language is expressive in different ways, and it’s beautiful and educational and thought-provoking and hilarious to learn new expressions and see the connections that language makes. I loved learning that the verb for “hope” and “wait” is the same in Spanish. I love hearing the passion in both the many terms of endearment and the array of colorful curses in Arabic.

You are forced to be patient with yourself. Because if you’re not, you’ll internally combust. You have to get over the sense of guilt that comes from not being able to communicate with people. You have to accept that it will take some time. You have to get over yourself and let yourself sound ridiculous as your mouth tries to wrap itself around sounds it has never before emitted. You have to think your way around words you do not know. I found myself describing a dream one time as “a picture in my head when I’m sleeping.”

You will make many many mistakes and realize that it’s not the end of the world, but simply means that you’re progressing. Sometimes, you will begin a conversation and realize that you don’t have enough vocabulary to continue it, and so you will simply shrug your shoulders, stop short, and leave the other person hanging. You have to learn that sometimes, when you think someone is talking about a husband, they are actually talking about a walnut. When you’re wondering why someone is talking about the chickens and cheeks between Lebanon and Syria, the answer is, they’re not. They’re talking about the army on the border.

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Apples, there are so many life lessons to be gleaned from the experience. One that we talked about that I have mentioned before, is that learning the context of a place or a culture or a person is always worthwhile. This is something you told me once that has stuck with me ever since. When you can withhold judgment long enough to let someplace or someone expose their true colors, the original feeling of frustration or anger usually melts away. If anything, I hope that this experience has forced me to be a better listener and a more open observer of the world.

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Lebanon Love: Two for Tuesday

23 Tuesday Dec 2014

Posted by marie in dear apples, journal, Lebanon, travel, Uncategorized

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Dear Apples,

When you live in a new place, it’s pretty important to learn about it and appreciate it and enjoy it without comparing it to what you’re used to.  Obviously there are challenges to living in a new environment, and one thing that will ruin you is to have a stingy outlook.  If I feel myself getting anal, its best to just shut up and refresh my vision.  It’s easy to fall in love with a place if you give it your attention.  One time you told me that context never hurts.  You were talking about people, and how knowing more about someone and understanding their story is rarely ever a bad thing.  It usually just makes you more open and compassionate.  I think the same is true for places.  I love Lebanon and don’t want to miss out on anything, so I decided I want to start documenting some of the best bits of it here, little by little.

Lebanon is great at:

1) Home cooked meals and good family company. Lots of variation and many ways to prepare many different vegetables, legumes, fruits and meats.  Lots of people to sit around the table and enjoy it with, and usually a heart-warming amount of  intergenerational solidarity.  All these are things I’ve loved about Lebanon since my first visit here.

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2. Views.  You can’t go far without running into a sea vista with the mountains jutting up beyond it, or beautiful circuitous roads or an old stone house of set into the roadside.

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United Arab Emirates: Dubai

09 Tuesday Dec 2014

Posted by marie in dear apples, journal, Lebanon, travel, Uncategorized

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Dubai, United Arab Emirates

Dear Apples,

When time expands the distance between then and now, remind me not to forget the sweet surprises of these weeks.  Remind me not to forget the last day in Dubai: the warmth of the sun, the blue of the sea from under the soft lapping waves, and its remote expanses around my bobbing floating body drifting further and further out from shore, the soft glowing evening and dinner looking out at the fountains rising and dancing to the ebullient music, the magnitude of Burj Khalifa, the hidden halls of Dubai mall with their stunning tiles and arcs, and the whirling dervish that we happened upon as he spun himself into a spiraling trance, and how it felt like the world went out of its way to perform for us, the long walk to and from the metro, the goat milk ice-cream and mint tea in the old turkish tea house with the quiet fountains and cushioned chairs.  Remind me about how reassuring it felt to be away from home but still have my home in the person alongside me.  And also how very glad I was to land back in Lebanon, and pick up the lovely rhythm of my days again with a far more heightened sense of belonging and gratitude for the routine and simplicity of my place here.

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