There is an Arab country I love, that I gave birth, but now feel much hospitality from a second home. Arab hospitality is pragmatic, up to simply insist that you do not say so, and in the end, you feel a little bit at home. Over the past 10 years I have noticed two things, increased the forest of satellite dishes and growth of the forest of veils.
The forest of satellite dishes is an unnatural feeling, from wherever you look, parables. New and old, white, red, gray, rusted and varnished, round and oval, with one, two, three light sources. Threads that are launched from the roofs to windows idle unthinkable. Knock down a wall, a house, building anti-wild, and the next day in space was born a fungus, a dish that looks at the sky. Sharing and building are concepts that are not even able to explain. Then one thinks globalization, homogenization, English tendency, consistency? At least, with the forest of antennas, I was thinking habits of a zoo. Instead, nothing.
veiled women do not have one day put the veil. Difficult to understand, especially for me. Hard to explain, particularly to them. It 's the case, giving his hand to greet them? Better not, it seems. Hand to heart, even better. The veil protects. Inside the veil is not a woman, there is a house. A protected environment. The woman lives in another dimension. The veil is a bit 'like the veranda, an area of \u200b\u200binterface, something close to, but separate, an area where we welcome, but with distance. White veils, many widespread. Neutral, as a color spread in homes, not flashy, impersonal. And who wants to emerge, with bright colors, dresses improbable tricks with exaggerated, but above, often the veil. Incredible
then grades, only the head, the head and mouth, the head of your mouth and nose with a window only for the eyes. The latter two cases often blacks, all black, without an inch of exposed skin, even your hands. And then, all together, laughing and joking in front of a display case, unlikely to intimate, almost indecent to me, yet, comments, series, ready to buy.
ask, and I can tell. Centered religion is obvious. But not an obligation, a conviction, a preserve, a feeling of being part of a tradition to maintain. And then there are a number of considerations between them, almost butt of consumer jokes. Video of the incredible difficulty of a fully veiled in eating spaghetti, trying the approach is from above and under the veil on his face. Video sent by a partially veiled, running with all the veiled and unveiled another. And together, we laugh.
The idea is that you can see only those who can not claim. The idea is to avoid temptation. The idea is, perhaps, even against the wind and sand. The idea is to breathe with something that protects from a smog pounding the lungs. The idea is to live safely, in a place that could disappear, but that has a culture and a tradition that deserves to be preserved. The idea is to stay and live, day to day, even if life is much less polished than that given by the satellite.
At the end I can say that I find it hard to understand, but I have a great, great respect, anyway, for those who believe in anything. As usual, under her dress, nothing.
The forest of satellite dishes is an unnatural feeling, from wherever you look, parables. New and old, white, red, gray, rusted and varnished, round and oval, with one, two, three light sources. Threads that are launched from the roofs to windows idle unthinkable. Knock down a wall, a house, building anti-wild, and the next day in space was born a fungus, a dish that looks at the sky. Sharing and building are concepts that are not even able to explain. Then one thinks globalization, homogenization, English tendency, consistency? At least, with the forest of antennas, I was thinking habits of a zoo. Instead, nothing.
veiled women do not have one day put the veil. Difficult to understand, especially for me. Hard to explain, particularly to them. It 's the case, giving his hand to greet them? Better not, it seems. Hand to heart, even better. The veil protects. Inside the veil is not a woman, there is a house. A protected environment. The woman lives in another dimension. The veil is a bit 'like the veranda, an area of \u200b\u200binterface, something close to, but separate, an area where we welcome, but with distance. White veils, many widespread. Neutral, as a color spread in homes, not flashy, impersonal. And who wants to emerge, with bright colors, dresses improbable tricks with exaggerated, but above, often the veil. Incredible
then grades, only the head, the head and mouth, the head of your mouth and nose with a window only for the eyes. The latter two cases often blacks, all black, without an inch of exposed skin, even your hands. And then, all together, laughing and joking in front of a display case, unlikely to intimate, almost indecent to me, yet, comments, series, ready to buy.
ask, and I can tell. Centered religion is obvious. But not an obligation, a conviction, a preserve, a feeling of being part of a tradition to maintain. And then there are a number of considerations between them, almost butt of consumer jokes. Video of the incredible difficulty of a fully veiled in eating spaghetti, trying the approach is from above and under the veil on his face. Video sent by a partially veiled, running with all the veiled and unveiled another. And together, we laugh.
The idea is that you can see only those who can not claim. The idea is to avoid temptation. The idea is, perhaps, even against the wind and sand. The idea is to breathe with something that protects from a smog pounding the lungs. The idea is to live safely, in a place that could disappear, but that has a culture and a tradition that deserves to be preserved. The idea is to stay and live, day to day, even if life is much less polished than that given by the satellite.
At the end I can say that I find it hard to understand, but I have a great, great respect, anyway, for those who believe in anything. As usual, under her dress, nothing.
0 comments:
Post a Comment