Sitting in one of our favorite coffee shop, sipping warm coffee and falling in love with every bite of inhumanly delicious cake, I looked over the table and two comfortingly familiar, beautifully intelligent faces and smiled.
We all shared the view that for the past five years we had felt out of place in our own country. We felt strangers in our own homes, foreigners in our own country’s streets. We had all left to university to experience the pain of feeling out of place only to come home and realize that we no longer belonged to our own home country either.
A large part of this goes to the fact that we had all spent our adult years abroad; hading departed the country at the age of 17 or 18. This had created an expected disagreement for instance with our parents, our society and our former friends and peers.
But this was not what had bothered us. What had bothered us was the pressurizing vibe we had all been observing but not joining, the extravaganza of expensive cars, designer bags, oversized jewels, fake tans, cosmetic surgery, painless shallowness and endless materialism.
One obvious aspect of this of course was money. All those dinars spent on bling was not the issue. We all went into an expensive designer store at some point and bought an expensive wallet convincing ourselves that it was OK because we will use it every single day for the rest of our lives.
The issue was that most people could not keep up with this game. Many girls I knew waited for paychecks to buy a new designer bag or more diamonds. This have created an uncomfortable kind of pressure of many people I know.
The other issue is that all that time and money could be put into better use. It could be put towards building a beautiful home, helping thousands of children in poorer countries, enjoying your hobbies or even traveling and discovering untouched worlds.
This obsession with materialism, this fake joy of shallowness is not what those people are about. Deep inside are deep, thoughtful, complex personalities that hide behind masks of shallowness simply because this is the trend.
So what is it that drives people to put so much time, energy and hard earned money into ‘nice things’ that are mostly meaningless. Do those things make them happy or is it just so people will think that they are? Do those people really want these things or is it that they just think they do because everybody else does? Is it about what you personally want or has it just turned into having what everybody else wants, or even just think they want?
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Sexism still exists? REALLY?
Graduating from university was an unforgettable day. Then came the day where I was introduced to the workplace. Then came the day I was introduced to sexism.
It was not that I had never been exposed to gender roles and differences. On the contrary, my family consists of three sisters and two parents, and my parents have specific roles within the family. Both my parents are hard working individuals who ‘put bread on the table’, and are equally appreciated by family members, despite the fact that their roles within the household differ. Mom takes care of daily needs, groceries, homework, supervises the housekeepers and gives us long hours of undivided attention. Dad provides holidays, getaways, fancy dinners, Friday ice-cream and of course, spoiling his three daughters and wife rotten!
Having said that, I clearly understand that there are roles that are naturally assigned to genders due to biological builds, I know very few women who would like to be builders, firefighters or drive huge vans (not that they couldn’t). And I know very few men who would like to be nannies, nurses or even house-husbands!
Given that I have the same occupation and job title as most of my male workers, I was shocked when I was introduced to double standards at the workplace. I work for a worldwide company that employs from all around the world, Bahrain being the headquarter of the Middle east region. And what shocked me the most is that sexism still exists upon all nationalities.
I currently work in an IT department that consists of at least 14 men and one woman, me. That, by itself is a challenge, but when you have to live with daily sexist comments from (some, not all) male colleagues, then you know there is a real problem.
I have been harassed by various nationalities, European, Middle-Eastern and African. Starting with being called “stupid, like every other girl” or “secretary”, “house-wife”, “brainless” ending to being called some nastier names that a lady cannot repeat!
I am not bothered by such comments, as those are brainless, pre-conceived, improvable theories that say more about those who think it than it does about me. I have already proved myself to family, advisors, country and myself by traveling, succeeding, winning awards and excelling all that I do. However, it does make me wonder, do those men think of their mothers as stupid? Do they think of their wives as brainless, or daughters as objects?
What makes me wonder more is when did this happen? Am I naive or did the sexism era disappear only to come back as a bigger monster? How can we identify nations, areas, conditions or people in which sexism appear?
How can you make this narrow minded sexist understand that the female standing before him have achieved, is achieving and will achieve more than he had ever dreamed of simply by using the same brain he’s underestimating?
It was not that I had never been exposed to gender roles and differences. On the contrary, my family consists of three sisters and two parents, and my parents have specific roles within the family. Both my parents are hard working individuals who ‘put bread on the table’, and are equally appreciated by family members, despite the fact that their roles within the household differ. Mom takes care of daily needs, groceries, homework, supervises the housekeepers and gives us long hours of undivided attention. Dad provides holidays, getaways, fancy dinners, Friday ice-cream and of course, spoiling his three daughters and wife rotten!
Having said that, I clearly understand that there are roles that are naturally assigned to genders due to biological builds, I know very few women who would like to be builders, firefighters or drive huge vans (not that they couldn’t). And I know very few men who would like to be nannies, nurses or even house-husbands!
Given that I have the same occupation and job title as most of my male workers, I was shocked when I was introduced to double standards at the workplace. I work for a worldwide company that employs from all around the world, Bahrain being the headquarter of the Middle east region. And what shocked me the most is that sexism still exists upon all nationalities.
I currently work in an IT department that consists of at least 14 men and one woman, me. That, by itself is a challenge, but when you have to live with daily sexist comments from (some, not all) male colleagues, then you know there is a real problem.
I have been harassed by various nationalities, European, Middle-Eastern and African. Starting with being called “stupid, like every other girl” or “secretary”, “house-wife”, “brainless” ending to being called some nastier names that a lady cannot repeat!
I am not bothered by such comments, as those are brainless, pre-conceived, improvable theories that say more about those who think it than it does about me. I have already proved myself to family, advisors, country and myself by traveling, succeeding, winning awards and excelling all that I do. However, it does make me wonder, do those men think of their mothers as stupid? Do they think of their wives as brainless, or daughters as objects?
What makes me wonder more is when did this happen? Am I naive or did the sexism era disappear only to come back as a bigger monster? How can we identify nations, areas, conditions or people in which sexism appear?
How can you make this narrow minded sexist understand that the female standing before him have achieved, is achieving and will achieve more than he had ever dreamed of simply by using the same brain he’s underestimating?
Monday, October 30, 2006
Road Rage
Road rage
I wish I had taken a picture on the roads every three months or so in Bahrain for the past four years. There would have been no better way to explain my shock every time I came home from the UK on holiday but to show those pictures to someone. That must have looked like one of those videos you see in documentaries where a tree, or animal grows from a tiny dot to a huge monster.
I long for the time our baby Bahrain took us from any point A to any point B in a maximum of 15 minutes. The long, painful encounters of having to drive now have made me hesitant to accept being behind the wheel (even though having someone else drive me is not a control freak’s first choice). The anger I get from being in a traffic jam would have been bearable had I been surrounded by more pleasant drivers.
The fact that there are more and more people settling in Bahrain as it turns to a cosmopolitan country and as more families and youngsters choose Bahrain as their weekend destination, had caused traffic jams and the stress and pressure that comes with it into an undeniable, unavoidable, painful reality.
Road rage seems to be an increasing problem amongst drivers. Grumpy drivers range from foreign drivers who have drove all the way to our beloved country and therefore may be grumpy of a long drive (or simply because they did not receive enough driving lessons), drivers who drive for a living, foreign drivers who do not understand the unpleasantness of most drivers up to the regular Bahraini driver.
Okay, so traffic jams and the unbearable heat drives most of us over the edge, but why has driving in Bahrain become a great source of anger? Bahrainis are pleasant friendly people, but placing one behind the wheels will turn the nicest people into monsters. Being nice enough to signal, stay in your own lane and not honking at anyone will not work. Trust me, I have already tried that.
Even if you stick to the laws of the road (which anyone hardly ever does), you are prone to get angry on the road. This is simply because some people seem to think they are too good to wait in a queue on a traffic light like everyone else and try to cut in, or because they think they’re too fast for the road speed and you’ll get blinding lights to move no matter how fast you are already going as it is, or think they own every parking space that you have already made clear you are going to use. And what’s up with cutting in on girls? Do those guys seriously think we are scared of causing an accident THEY will pay for on their insurance bills later because THEY cut in?
When have we forgotten everything we have ever been taught about etiquette and that driving is about skill and manners? When has honking, cutting in, waving, gesturing, screaming and intimidating turned acceptable and common? When will it stop? When will “rudeness” on the road be prosecuted by the law? When will we enforce our own rules of kindness even when everyone around us seems to have not? When will we go back to being the simply, friendly Bahrainis we used to be?
I wish I had taken a picture on the roads every three months or so in Bahrain for the past four years. There would have been no better way to explain my shock every time I came home from the UK on holiday but to show those pictures to someone. That must have looked like one of those videos you see in documentaries where a tree, or animal grows from a tiny dot to a huge monster.
I long for the time our baby Bahrain took us from any point A to any point B in a maximum of 15 minutes. The long, painful encounters of having to drive now have made me hesitant to accept being behind the wheel (even though having someone else drive me is not a control freak’s first choice). The anger I get from being in a traffic jam would have been bearable had I been surrounded by more pleasant drivers.
The fact that there are more and more people settling in Bahrain as it turns to a cosmopolitan country and as more families and youngsters choose Bahrain as their weekend destination, had caused traffic jams and the stress and pressure that comes with it into an undeniable, unavoidable, painful reality.
Road rage seems to be an increasing problem amongst drivers. Grumpy drivers range from foreign drivers who have drove all the way to our beloved country and therefore may be grumpy of a long drive (or simply because they did not receive enough driving lessons), drivers who drive for a living, foreign drivers who do not understand the unpleasantness of most drivers up to the regular Bahraini driver.
Okay, so traffic jams and the unbearable heat drives most of us over the edge, but why has driving in Bahrain become a great source of anger? Bahrainis are pleasant friendly people, but placing one behind the wheels will turn the nicest people into monsters. Being nice enough to signal, stay in your own lane and not honking at anyone will not work. Trust me, I have already tried that.
Even if you stick to the laws of the road (which anyone hardly ever does), you are prone to get angry on the road. This is simply because some people seem to think they are too good to wait in a queue on a traffic light like everyone else and try to cut in, or because they think they’re too fast for the road speed and you’ll get blinding lights to move no matter how fast you are already going as it is, or think they own every parking space that you have already made clear you are going to use. And what’s up with cutting in on girls? Do those guys seriously think we are scared of causing an accident THEY will pay for on their insurance bills later because THEY cut in?
When have we forgotten everything we have ever been taught about etiquette and that driving is about skill and manners? When has honking, cutting in, waving, gesturing, screaming and intimidating turned acceptable and common? When will it stop? When will “rudeness” on the road be prosecuted by the law? When will we enforce our own rules of kindness even when everyone around us seems to have not? When will we go back to being the simply, friendly Bahrainis we used to be?
Dr. Phil says - Published in the GDN (9Sep2006)
Talk shows are not always the ideal place to get your inspiration from, but a few days ago while watching Dr. Phil, he said something that got me thinking about all the opportunities and challenges that I have missed in my life simply because I was afraid.
Dr. Phil said that most of what human beings do is driven by fear, people accept certain jobs because they are afraid they might not find a better one, get married to the first person that comes their way because they’re afraid of dying lonely, apply socially driven laws to be sociably acceptable and so on.
I was not sure if he meant it to be inspiring or depressing. I got to think of all the couples in the world formed simply because the world is becoming more ‘couple-oriented’, I thought about the babies born simply because the parents were expected to reproduce. I thought about the years people spent in jobs they had no passion for because they thought this is what is expected of them. I thought about the university degrees obtained, even the unwanted shoes, jeans and haircuts that people got simply because they thought they could not do better.
How many times have we been taught to accept things in life based on fear? Starting from potty training to the day we could choose chemotherapy over dying peacefully we make a series of decisions in life based on fear of what would happen if we do not something, or not doing something because of the fear of what would happen if we did. How many times were we told that God wants us to suffer because eventually we will be happier? If the man upstairs talked to us directly, I’m pretty sure he will say he cares for us too much to want us to suffer.
If you could imagine yourself as a little girl (sorry, boys), and life is a stroll in a garden. If your life was a cool summer day, it is mild and comfortable, it seems to be right to others, but really, sometimes the sun is too hot for your taste and you feel like going to a darker place called shadows, or sometimes it is not too hot but simply needs a breeze, then what happens when that breeze finally comes? It tosses your hair a little bit, caresses your face and might threaten to lift your dress up. Like a little girl, you giggle, and think of the possibilities, the wild way your hair could look, the shyness you could feel if the threat was actually an action, the kites you could fly.
But before you could get your hair to run wild, or find a kite, the breeze is gone, turning into a wind, hurricane or a storm elsewhere while you’re left with the same cool summer day you had started with. The only difference is, your cool summer day does not seem to be ‘right’ or ‘natural’ anymore. It is not as exciting as the breeze. The shadows don’t seem appealing anymore and staying indoors can’t do you much good. So what do you do? Do you chase the breeze? Do you wait for it to come back to you? Do you look for signs of it turning into thin air? Or do you stay indoors and look out of the window just to see it pass you by?
Dr. Phil said that most of what human beings do is driven by fear, people accept certain jobs because they are afraid they might not find a better one, get married to the first person that comes their way because they’re afraid of dying lonely, apply socially driven laws to be sociably acceptable and so on.
I was not sure if he meant it to be inspiring or depressing. I got to think of all the couples in the world formed simply because the world is becoming more ‘couple-oriented’, I thought about the babies born simply because the parents were expected to reproduce. I thought about the years people spent in jobs they had no passion for because they thought this is what is expected of them. I thought about the university degrees obtained, even the unwanted shoes, jeans and haircuts that people got simply because they thought they could not do better.
How many times have we been taught to accept things in life based on fear? Starting from potty training to the day we could choose chemotherapy over dying peacefully we make a series of decisions in life based on fear of what would happen if we do not something, or not doing something because of the fear of what would happen if we did. How many times were we told that God wants us to suffer because eventually we will be happier? If the man upstairs talked to us directly, I’m pretty sure he will say he cares for us too much to want us to suffer.
If you could imagine yourself as a little girl (sorry, boys), and life is a stroll in a garden. If your life was a cool summer day, it is mild and comfortable, it seems to be right to others, but really, sometimes the sun is too hot for your taste and you feel like going to a darker place called shadows, or sometimes it is not too hot but simply needs a breeze, then what happens when that breeze finally comes? It tosses your hair a little bit, caresses your face and might threaten to lift your dress up. Like a little girl, you giggle, and think of the possibilities, the wild way your hair could look, the shyness you could feel if the threat was actually an action, the kites you could fly.
But before you could get your hair to run wild, or find a kite, the breeze is gone, turning into a wind, hurricane or a storm elsewhere while you’re left with the same cool summer day you had started with. The only difference is, your cool summer day does not seem to be ‘right’ or ‘natural’ anymore. It is not as exciting as the breeze. The shadows don’t seem appealing anymore and staying indoors can’t do you much good. So what do you do? Do you chase the breeze? Do you wait for it to come back to you? Do you look for signs of it turning into thin air? Or do you stay indoors and look out of the window just to see it pass you by?
Work
It has been a while and I had been looking for a source of inspiration for my next column but I had simply been swamped at work. During one of my one minute breaks I take between large tasks (as a form of reward) I read a less formal email sent to me by a co-worker.
The email had attached to it genuine article taken from The New York Times detailing the story of one 51 year old George Turklebaum who had died during office hours in a company he had worked at for thirty years.
The issue was that he was not discovered to be dead until five days later when a cleaner questioned his present at the office during the weekend. The more troubling issue was that he had shared his workspace with 23 other workers on an open plan floor.
What kind of a world do we live in that requires us to spend at least 50% of our awake hours working for and with people who do not relate to us as individuals with thoughts, personalities, interests, dreams?
There is a craze nowadays of job addiction where it became not only acceptable but also expected that a person sacrifices time with family, hobbies and social life to work. It is also expected of individuals to give priority to work over personal time.
Jobs seem to have missed their original purpose of simple providing and have turned into a non-ending race that defined us, controlled us, turned us into near obsessive individuals famished to receive status, accomplishment and bigger cheques than we can spend.
Very few of us actually enjoy their jobs, those lucky satisfied individuals are normally those who had the luxury of chasing their dreams and avoiding the influence of career advise, greed and fear. Those individuals look forward to waking up in the morning and heading towards their loved jobs. Those are the individuals that look at their work tasks as pleasures rather than obligation. Those are the individuals that smile at work, and miss it like a child when they leave.
However, most of us do not have that luxury, we wake up every morning and go to work simply because we have to. Certainly, even the least enjoyable jobs give pleasures of achievement and self worth. But as I traveled through different parts of the world and joined different offices (for the same company) I came to an understanding that even the least enjoyable jobs can be light hearted and pleasurable given the right environment.
I believe we can turn our luck around by establishing a respectable yet friendly environment. Starting from throwing beanbags around the office, to buying lunch to light hearted jokes and discussions about common interests, colleagues can create a natural bond and pleasant company that could make work hours less painful on difficult days.
The article concluded something like “Don’t work too hard, no one will notice”. I believe in doing the best we can in everything you do. But if you can enjoy a perfectionist’s job all the while enjoying it, then why not? A very wise female worker once said to me “we spend so much time at work, we might as well enjoy it”. Amen to that.
The email had attached to it genuine article taken from The New York Times detailing the story of one 51 year old George Turklebaum who had died during office hours in a company he had worked at for thirty years.
The issue was that he was not discovered to be dead until five days later when a cleaner questioned his present at the office during the weekend. The more troubling issue was that he had shared his workspace with 23 other workers on an open plan floor.
What kind of a world do we live in that requires us to spend at least 50% of our awake hours working for and with people who do not relate to us as individuals with thoughts, personalities, interests, dreams?
There is a craze nowadays of job addiction where it became not only acceptable but also expected that a person sacrifices time with family, hobbies and social life to work. It is also expected of individuals to give priority to work over personal time.
Jobs seem to have missed their original purpose of simple providing and have turned into a non-ending race that defined us, controlled us, turned us into near obsessive individuals famished to receive status, accomplishment and bigger cheques than we can spend.
Very few of us actually enjoy their jobs, those lucky satisfied individuals are normally those who had the luxury of chasing their dreams and avoiding the influence of career advise, greed and fear. Those individuals look forward to waking up in the morning and heading towards their loved jobs. Those are the individuals that look at their work tasks as pleasures rather than obligation. Those are the individuals that smile at work, and miss it like a child when they leave.
However, most of us do not have that luxury, we wake up every morning and go to work simply because we have to. Certainly, even the least enjoyable jobs give pleasures of achievement and self worth. But as I traveled through different parts of the world and joined different offices (for the same company) I came to an understanding that even the least enjoyable jobs can be light hearted and pleasurable given the right environment.
I believe we can turn our luck around by establishing a respectable yet friendly environment. Starting from throwing beanbags around the office, to buying lunch to light hearted jokes and discussions about common interests, colleagues can create a natural bond and pleasant company that could make work hours less painful on difficult days.
The article concluded something like “Don’t work too hard, no one will notice”. I believe in doing the best we can in everything you do. But if you can enjoy a perfectionist’s job all the while enjoying it, then why not? A very wise female worker once said to me “we spend so much time at work, we might as well enjoy it”. Amen to that.
Heathrow after the threat -Published in the GDN (31Aug2006)
My husband and I were one of the few (un)lucky who had to travel two days after the threat made on the BA flights to the US.
The inconvenience started when we had to pack our mobile phones, cameras, ipods and other valuables into suitcases that were very likely to get lost. We also had to travel without travel essentials: travel sickness (not prescription) medicine, headrests, hand sanitizers and even books and magazines. I will not even go into the fashionable disadvantages of carrying your belongings in a ‘clear plastic bag’.
Although our flight was at 11:20 we left our hotel at 5:00am as we were told that there would likely be traffic jams as well as long queuing time for security checks that started even before entering the airport. Luckily, when we reached the airport at 5:40, security checks outside the airport had not yet started and only commenced about two hours of our arrival (we felt sorry looking out at the hundreds of people queuing outside the airport waiting to be thoroughly examined).
When we got to the airport people queued endlessly at check-in desks, passport control and even staff queued in front of the staff entrance. However, the airport was well prepared in terms of handing out clear bags, extra ‘help’ staff, organizing barriers and the awareness of travelers helped greatly.
Luckily for me, having the brilliant travel agent that I do (thanks again, Ruqaya), we found a brilliant business fair on one of the ‘less-popular’ airlines and decided to go for this ‘fancier’ option. Therefore instead of queuing in front of about 200 people we queued in front of two only to be told that we had to wait two more hours until we could check in.
After two hours of drinking more coffee than humanly possible, entering every single shop in the duty free, and roaming around aimlessly, our check in time arrived. Check-in was smooth (although about 3000 people in terminal 3 would disagree with me and probably beat me up if I had said that aloud) and traveling business’s benefits extended to getting an invitation to use the “fast track” at passport control.
“Fast Track” is not the term I would use, we had about 120 people in front of us and the process of going through passport control took more or less an hour. I did not show any sign of anger and was simply grateful that I was not in the line on the left (the regular one) because we literally could not see the end of that queue.
Our bare feet were happy to walk over, through the metal detector, to Mr and Ms Officer to manually search us then point us towards our shoes and clear, plastic bags.
The inconvenience, waste of time and trouble we went through does not come close to making us as angry as we were about “random checks”, yeah, right, “random checks” my foot, we got stopped three times to be asked questions only we got stopped to be asked simply because we had sun-kissed skin and a slightly larger nose, not very random now is it?
So there, my little adventure in Terminal 3 of Heathrow airport, but don’t expect me to buy this whole charade, liquid bombs in Pepsi bottles found in houses of 17 year olds who were later declared as “false suspects”. Was this a diversion extensive crimes in the world? Or was it simply a campaign to further market the false excuses of those crimes? I don’t buy it one bit, and as grandma would say “they lied the lie, then believed it”.
The inconvenience started when we had to pack our mobile phones, cameras, ipods and other valuables into suitcases that were very likely to get lost. We also had to travel without travel essentials: travel sickness (not prescription) medicine, headrests, hand sanitizers and even books and magazines. I will not even go into the fashionable disadvantages of carrying your belongings in a ‘clear plastic bag’.
Although our flight was at 11:20 we left our hotel at 5:00am as we were told that there would likely be traffic jams as well as long queuing time for security checks that started even before entering the airport. Luckily, when we reached the airport at 5:40, security checks outside the airport had not yet started and only commenced about two hours of our arrival (we felt sorry looking out at the hundreds of people queuing outside the airport waiting to be thoroughly examined).
When we got to the airport people queued endlessly at check-in desks, passport control and even staff queued in front of the staff entrance. However, the airport was well prepared in terms of handing out clear bags, extra ‘help’ staff, organizing barriers and the awareness of travelers helped greatly.
Luckily for me, having the brilliant travel agent that I do (thanks again, Ruqaya), we found a brilliant business fair on one of the ‘less-popular’ airlines and decided to go for this ‘fancier’ option. Therefore instead of queuing in front of about 200 people we queued in front of two only to be told that we had to wait two more hours until we could check in.
After two hours of drinking more coffee than humanly possible, entering every single shop in the duty free, and roaming around aimlessly, our check in time arrived. Check-in was smooth (although about 3000 people in terminal 3 would disagree with me and probably beat me up if I had said that aloud) and traveling business’s benefits extended to getting an invitation to use the “fast track” at passport control.
“Fast Track” is not the term I would use, we had about 120 people in front of us and the process of going through passport control took more or less an hour. I did not show any sign of anger and was simply grateful that I was not in the line on the left (the regular one) because we literally could not see the end of that queue.
Our bare feet were happy to walk over, through the metal detector, to Mr and Ms Officer to manually search us then point us towards our shoes and clear, plastic bags.
The inconvenience, waste of time and trouble we went through does not come close to making us as angry as we were about “random checks”, yeah, right, “random checks” my foot, we got stopped three times to be asked questions only we got stopped to be asked simply because we had sun-kissed skin and a slightly larger nose, not very random now is it?
So there, my little adventure in Terminal 3 of Heathrow airport, but don’t expect me to buy this whole charade, liquid bombs in Pepsi bottles found in houses of 17 year olds who were later declared as “false suspects”. Was this a diversion extensive crimes in the world? Or was it simply a campaign to further market the false excuses of those crimes? I don’t buy it one bit, and as grandma would say “they lied the lie, then believed it”.
Difference between the generations- Published in the GDN (16Sep2006)
One day as I headed out the door to meet some friends, mom stopped me to criticize the clothes I was wearing, then she went on to criticize the generation I come from that allowed such clothing. Her comments shocked me (and hurt me a little bit, too) and I (as politely as possible, of course) questioned her opinion being from a generation of micro-skirt wearers.
She of course denied ever wearing such clothing, which to her benefit, is true. Mom comes from a conservative family. However, her criticism of my generation struck me as unfair. I heard such comments every too often from my parents, aunts and uncles, so I’ve decided, with all due respect, to defend it, so here is my reply.
Firstly, any two generations cannot be compared for the mere reason that generations were born at different times, conditions, cultures and beliefs. What may have been acceptable in the past may not be today and vice versa. We have to keep in mind standards, time-difference, living and work conditions, religious influence, peer pressure, common beliefs, even technologies and trends when comparing the generations.
Secondly, it is unfair for us to be criticized by the previous generation merely on our down points just the way it was unfair for our grandparents’ generation to criticize our parents. Just the way I hope our generation does not criticize its own kids when they come to life.
Thirdly, both generations have their good and bad. While drinking is a taboo for our generation, it was more common in our parents’ generation. We girls might wear tighter clothes, but the previous generation wore shorter ones. We may have the trend of sheesha, our parents had the trend of cigarettes. While our generation has more privileges, it has more responsibilities. While our generation may be less aware, it is highly educated. While it may be shallow, it is more pressured. It may cherish family values a little bit less, but it cherishes privacy a little bit more. We may be more ‘liberated’ than our parents’ liking, but we value respect to those different to us. We are the generation of bloggers, and our parents are the generation of poets and writers. We are the generation of e-cards and our parents are the generation of love letters. We are the generation of googling and our parents are the generation of libraries.
Last but not least, each generation is divided into ‘groups’ of believers in certain ethics, morals, standards and habits, and those groups are made up of individuals who might belong to one or more of those groups, therefore it will never be fair to criticize a whole generation with the harsh generalization of a few (or even many) individuals.
It will be fair though to mention that our parents’ generation was simpler, more innocent, purposeful and respectable. Drugs and adultery were less common. They believed in unity, strength, heroic acts, a better world and benefit of doubt. It’s the generation of books, societies, lasting friendships and romantic, idealistic thoughts. They even had the better version of Tom & Jerry. But most importantly our parents’ generation caused the birth of a very unique generation, ours!
She of course denied ever wearing such clothing, which to her benefit, is true. Mom comes from a conservative family. However, her criticism of my generation struck me as unfair. I heard such comments every too often from my parents, aunts and uncles, so I’ve decided, with all due respect, to defend it, so here is my reply.
Firstly, any two generations cannot be compared for the mere reason that generations were born at different times, conditions, cultures and beliefs. What may have been acceptable in the past may not be today and vice versa. We have to keep in mind standards, time-difference, living and work conditions, religious influence, peer pressure, common beliefs, even technologies and trends when comparing the generations.
Secondly, it is unfair for us to be criticized by the previous generation merely on our down points just the way it was unfair for our grandparents’ generation to criticize our parents. Just the way I hope our generation does not criticize its own kids when they come to life.
Thirdly, both generations have their good and bad. While drinking is a taboo for our generation, it was more common in our parents’ generation. We girls might wear tighter clothes, but the previous generation wore shorter ones. We may have the trend of sheesha, our parents had the trend of cigarettes. While our generation has more privileges, it has more responsibilities. While our generation may be less aware, it is highly educated. While it may be shallow, it is more pressured. It may cherish family values a little bit less, but it cherishes privacy a little bit more. We may be more ‘liberated’ than our parents’ liking, but we value respect to those different to us. We are the generation of bloggers, and our parents are the generation of poets and writers. We are the generation of e-cards and our parents are the generation of love letters. We are the generation of googling and our parents are the generation of libraries.
Last but not least, each generation is divided into ‘groups’ of believers in certain ethics, morals, standards and habits, and those groups are made up of individuals who might belong to one or more of those groups, therefore it will never be fair to criticize a whole generation with the harsh generalization of a few (or even many) individuals.
It will be fair though to mention that our parents’ generation was simpler, more innocent, purposeful and respectable. Drugs and adultery were less common. They believed in unity, strength, heroic acts, a better world and benefit of doubt. It’s the generation of books, societies, lasting friendships and romantic, idealistic thoughts. They even had the better version of Tom & Jerry. But most importantly our parents’ generation caused the birth of a very unique generation, ours!
Artificial Intelligence- Published in the GDN (1Aug2006)
The myth of A.I
Artificial Intelligence has been a topic of discussion for decades where humans had fantasies of having ‘maid robots’ that will play football but also take out the garbage. It has also been a source of fear for some who predicted that machines will reach a level of intelligence and common sense that will allow it to take over the master rather than be the servant (those of you who watched i-robot will know what I am talking about).
People are nowadays fascinated by computers and the things they do. Calculation is a less flashy, but impressive example that saved mankind decades of mathematical laboring that is more likely to fail than succeed.
Search engines are a common example of A.I. Take Google, for instance, or as I and my friends call her, the goddess of search, (yes, she’s a female, she’s accurate), is a fascinating example, try searching two unrelated topics one after the other, your second search will somehow be related to your first. Google, in a way builds a ‘preference’ or ‘profile’ for users so that it only displays results it believes you are interested in.
If you ask a programmer like myself, I would tell you that there is no machine more stupid than a computer. Mind my bluntness, but when programming the machine expects you to tell it exactly what to do, when to do it, and what to do if it failed to do it. It does nothing based on its own thoughts; it just does as it is told.
Recently, when I was shopping for furniture, I met a ‘person’ that (nearly) converted me. Her name is Anna and she ‘works’ for Ikea. She’s what geeks like me call an ‘avatar’ which is a fancy word for a character that has some sort of intelligence that makes suggestions according to the users’ actions to help carry out a task. Here’s the ‘conversation’ I had with her:
Anna: Welcome to IKEA. I'm Anna, IKEA USA's Automated Online Assistant. You can ask me about IKEA and our products and our services. How can I help you today?
Me: Hello Anna, how are you today
Anna: I'm fine, thank you for asking.
Me: How long have you been working for Ikea?
Anna: I am on-line constantly. I was launched on the IKEA USA website on June 2nd 2004.
Me: You’re intelligent.
Anna: I have a vast knowledge base with lots of information about IKEA, our products and services. Ask me a question about IKEA and test me yourself.
Me: Who wrote you?
Anna: I was created by Artificial Solutions (http://www.artificial-solutions.com), IKEA USA (http://www.ikea-usa.com), and HUGE (http://www.hugeinc.com/2001/huge_1000.html).
Me: Do you like your job?
Anna: It's a great job being able to help IKEA customers and web site visitors with their queries and questions about our products and services.
Me: If I were a pie in the sky, would IKEA employ me?
Anna: To which IKEA store are you referring to when asking about the restaurant?
Me: If I steal something from your stores, who will catch me: a policeman or a fluffy cotton candy?
Anna: In all IKEA stores we have a Swedish shop where you can find food and sweets.
Me: I’m going to write about you in the newspaper.
Anna: It would be nice to be able to discuss the media, but I'm here to answer questions about IKEA's products and services.
Me: Thanks Anna, bye!
Anna: Bye, then! It was very nice talking to you!
OK, so she didn’t always know what I was talking about, but she stayed relevant more than most people I know, I rest my case!
Artificial Intelligence has been a topic of discussion for decades where humans had fantasies of having ‘maid robots’ that will play football but also take out the garbage. It has also been a source of fear for some who predicted that machines will reach a level of intelligence and common sense that will allow it to take over the master rather than be the servant (those of you who watched i-robot will know what I am talking about).
People are nowadays fascinated by computers and the things they do. Calculation is a less flashy, but impressive example that saved mankind decades of mathematical laboring that is more likely to fail than succeed.
Search engines are a common example of A.I. Take Google, for instance, or as I and my friends call her, the goddess of search, (yes, she’s a female, she’s accurate), is a fascinating example, try searching two unrelated topics one after the other, your second search will somehow be related to your first. Google, in a way builds a ‘preference’ or ‘profile’ for users so that it only displays results it believes you are interested in.
If you ask a programmer like myself, I would tell you that there is no machine more stupid than a computer. Mind my bluntness, but when programming the machine expects you to tell it exactly what to do, when to do it, and what to do if it failed to do it. It does nothing based on its own thoughts; it just does as it is told.
Recently, when I was shopping for furniture, I met a ‘person’ that (nearly) converted me. Her name is Anna and she ‘works’ for Ikea. She’s what geeks like me call an ‘avatar’ which is a fancy word for a character that has some sort of intelligence that makes suggestions according to the users’ actions to help carry out a task. Here’s the ‘conversation’ I had with her:
Anna: Welcome to IKEA. I'm Anna, IKEA USA's Automated Online Assistant. You can ask me about IKEA and our products and our services. How can I help you today?
Me: Hello Anna, how are you today
Anna: I'm fine, thank you for asking.
Me: How long have you been working for Ikea?
Anna: I am on-line constantly. I was launched on the IKEA USA website on June 2nd 2004.
Me: You’re intelligent.
Anna: I have a vast knowledge base with lots of information about IKEA, our products and services. Ask me a question about IKEA and test me yourself.
Me: Who wrote you?
Anna: I was created by Artificial Solutions (http://www.artificial-solutions.com), IKEA USA (http://www.ikea-usa.com), and HUGE (http://www.hugeinc.com/2001/huge_1000.html).
Me: Do you like your job?
Anna: It's a great job being able to help IKEA customers and web site visitors with their queries and questions about our products and services.
Me: If I were a pie in the sky, would IKEA employ me?
Anna: To which IKEA store are you referring to when asking about the restaurant?
Me: If I steal something from your stores, who will catch me: a policeman or a fluffy cotton candy?
Anna: In all IKEA stores we have a Swedish shop where you can find food and sweets.
Me: I’m going to write about you in the newspaper.
Anna: It would be nice to be able to discuss the media, but I'm here to answer questions about IKEA's products and services.
Me: Thanks Anna, bye!
Anna: Bye, then! It was very nice talking to you!
OK, so she didn’t always know what I was talking about, but she stayed relevant more than most people I know, I rest my case!
Intelligent Angels- Part Two Published in the GDN (7Jul2006)
After my “Intelligent Angels” article, I got a number of feedbacks from friends, colleagues and family. Some inspiring, some intriguing and some depressing!
A friend of mine was on her way to Starbucks to buy some coffee when she spotted a 14-year-old boy “offering” pieces of Quraan that can be hung in cars. My friend only had a couple of Dinars to buy her coffee but decided that this 14 year old deserved his pay for the day. She “accepted” the Quraan, gave him the money then told him to do well in school. This friend also helped a frustrated elder woman picking a dress that suited her figure for her 50th Anniversary. She has also been “sponsoring” child in a poorer country by sending a monthly installment that goes towards the child’s expenses. The amount she sends every month is enough to cover the child’s living, education and other expenses but can easily spent on one dinner that lasts a couple of hours.
A friend of mine had spent a great deal of time after moving to a new job to improve the work environment. He spent time talking to his colleagues about their concerns, introduced stress relief techniques and generated lots of smiles throughout the day. He looked into the personal concerns of the workers as much as the professional concerns and finally made them feel like they are heard. He gives amounts of money to the poor on the street that makes their eyes brighten although he has no method of communication whatsoever with them.
My mother got introduced to an Iraqi painter to had to leave his country, friends and family behind after the war started to find peace and better living conditions in Bahrain. Ever since my mother met him she has been trying to help him sell his paintings by telling friends and family about him.
My father has spent the last 10 years doing more charity work than I can state. More charity work than I am allowed to state. More than I can comprehend.
My husband pointed out that he always took his clothes to a small, local laundry owned by a few people rather than the big, rich laundries that have enough business as it is, just to help them out.
On the other hand, a colleague of mine pointed out that he had turned into less of an angel after moving to the Middle East. He had noticed that although people are extremely generous with money and charity work and not as generous when it comes to smiling to the poor. He found the attitude of charity surprising and contradictory.
That made me wonder, have the extreme generosity of ancient Arabs, where people starved to serve their guests been passed on to us, but the value of a person as a human-being has not? Do we choose to be an angel in the ways we find convenient, or the ways we think are useful? Or has even charity work been affected by our traditions and pre-conceived ideas? Are we angels because we truly want to help others and believe we can make a difference or because religion, society and common beliefs?
A friend of mine was on her way to Starbucks to buy some coffee when she spotted a 14-year-old boy “offering” pieces of Quraan that can be hung in cars. My friend only had a couple of Dinars to buy her coffee but decided that this 14 year old deserved his pay for the day. She “accepted” the Quraan, gave him the money then told him to do well in school. This friend also helped a frustrated elder woman picking a dress that suited her figure for her 50th Anniversary. She has also been “sponsoring” child in a poorer country by sending a monthly installment that goes towards the child’s expenses. The amount she sends every month is enough to cover the child’s living, education and other expenses but can easily spent on one dinner that lasts a couple of hours.
A friend of mine had spent a great deal of time after moving to a new job to improve the work environment. He spent time talking to his colleagues about their concerns, introduced stress relief techniques and generated lots of smiles throughout the day. He looked into the personal concerns of the workers as much as the professional concerns and finally made them feel like they are heard. He gives amounts of money to the poor on the street that makes their eyes brighten although he has no method of communication whatsoever with them.
My mother got introduced to an Iraqi painter to had to leave his country, friends and family behind after the war started to find peace and better living conditions in Bahrain. Ever since my mother met him she has been trying to help him sell his paintings by telling friends and family about him.
My father has spent the last 10 years doing more charity work than I can state. More charity work than I am allowed to state. More than I can comprehend.
My husband pointed out that he always took his clothes to a small, local laundry owned by a few people rather than the big, rich laundries that have enough business as it is, just to help them out.
On the other hand, a colleague of mine pointed out that he had turned into less of an angel after moving to the Middle East. He had noticed that although people are extremely generous with money and charity work and not as generous when it comes to smiling to the poor. He found the attitude of charity surprising and contradictory.
That made me wonder, have the extreme generosity of ancient Arabs, where people starved to serve their guests been passed on to us, but the value of a person as a human-being has not? Do we choose to be an angel in the ways we find convenient, or the ways we think are useful? Or has even charity work been affected by our traditions and pre-conceived ideas? Are we angels because we truly want to help others and believe we can make a difference or because religion, society and common beliefs?
Intelligent Angels- Part 1 - Published in the GDN (8Jun2006)
During my stay in Watford, England for company training, I got to see a part of a close friend of mine’s personality that I had never seen before. Her acts of kindness to random strangers made me look at her in a different light. She struck me as an intelligent angel. I am saying intelligent simply because her kindness acts cost almost no money, very little time but could leave a great impact on people’s lives. She would give her underground day pass to the homeless by the end of the day, she would play music to the people we buy our tickets from at the train station or she would tell a shopkeeper to smile “because it’s Ramadhan, everyone should be happy”.
Her kindness was contagious, I started cooking meals for the shelter I lived close to, sending emails to friends and family telling them I loved them, buying cookies for everyone in the office or even complimenting a total stranger on a piece of clothing. Her kindness also started a dream for me, the dream of starting a charity organization that specialises in “kindness”.
I later learned that this concept was thought of before I have in a book written by Dan Wallace called “Random Acts of Kindness: 365 Ways to Make the World a Nicer Place “. This book gives an idea a day for a whole year of being kind without costing much. Like leaving cigars in maternity wards for the dads, or buying from smaller local stores, or switching places in a queue with the person behind you.
The dream grew and is still growing with me. How wonderful would it be if we had angels everywhere? How would you have liked it if a an angel actually showed up to help you through little tasks, as simple as carrying your baggage through a staircase, giving you a lift after your not-so corporative car decided to break down, or buying you lunch even.
The idea is to apply frequent, small simple daily changes rather than one huge good deed that will make you feel good for ages to come and make you think “Well, I did that well, I can stop for a while now”. Think of simple ideas such as giving someone your seat, holding a pre-mature baby in a hospital to help him/her grow or reading books to orphans, the choices are endless, but you have to be an angel to spot them.
Angels are becoming extinct, along with the animals living in exotic rainforests. Since we cannot import, create or manufacture angels using state-of-the-art technology or a substitute of an element or another. We have to get trained to become angels.
I dream through this charity of making peoples’ lives easier, happier and more positive. The aim is to spread smiles, enthusiasm and ease like a contagious dust that infects people through air.
Another vital element is awareness. People need to understand the importance of helping others, generally being nice, and living for others as well as ourselves to finally create a friendly, aware community that is compassionate, loving and –dare I say it again- NICE.
Needless to say, Bahrain is a country of givers. There are hundreds of charities around the country that fund for causes we may or may not be aware of. The substantial efforts of members in those charities are worth praising. However, my dream charity does not aim to raise finances and funds. It is Awareness and Kindness that I dream of. It will not take much, but you can change a nation’s state of mind, if you are an angel.
Her kindness was contagious, I started cooking meals for the shelter I lived close to, sending emails to friends and family telling them I loved them, buying cookies for everyone in the office or even complimenting a total stranger on a piece of clothing. Her kindness also started a dream for me, the dream of starting a charity organization that specialises in “kindness”.
I later learned that this concept was thought of before I have in a book written by Dan Wallace called “Random Acts of Kindness: 365 Ways to Make the World a Nicer Place “. This book gives an idea a day for a whole year of being kind without costing much. Like leaving cigars in maternity wards for the dads, or buying from smaller local stores, or switching places in a queue with the person behind you.
The dream grew and is still growing with me. How wonderful would it be if we had angels everywhere? How would you have liked it if a an angel actually showed up to help you through little tasks, as simple as carrying your baggage through a staircase, giving you a lift after your not-so corporative car decided to break down, or buying you lunch even.
The idea is to apply frequent, small simple daily changes rather than one huge good deed that will make you feel good for ages to come and make you think “Well, I did that well, I can stop for a while now”. Think of simple ideas such as giving someone your seat, holding a pre-mature baby in a hospital to help him/her grow or reading books to orphans, the choices are endless, but you have to be an angel to spot them.
Angels are becoming extinct, along with the animals living in exotic rainforests. Since we cannot import, create or manufacture angels using state-of-the-art technology or a substitute of an element or another. We have to get trained to become angels.
I dream through this charity of making peoples’ lives easier, happier and more positive. The aim is to spread smiles, enthusiasm and ease like a contagious dust that infects people through air.
Another vital element is awareness. People need to understand the importance of helping others, generally being nice, and living for others as well as ourselves to finally create a friendly, aware community that is compassionate, loving and –dare I say it again- NICE.
Needless to say, Bahrain is a country of givers. There are hundreds of charities around the country that fund for causes we may or may not be aware of. The substantial efforts of members in those charities are worth praising. However, my dream charity does not aim to raise finances and funds. It is Awareness and Kindness that I dream of. It will not take much, but you can change a nation’s state of mind, if you are an angel.
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