Putting balm on the soul one Korean drama at a time!

In the summer of 2023, I was ordering room service in my hotel room in #Cairo and thinking about how I will do my hair for the wedding of my bestie's daughter the next day. While waiting for my shrimp cocktail salad and fries, I started browsing Netflix for something to help me unwind. 

It was an #emotional time for me, I had just learned of some bad news regarding the sequel to my spine injury at the same time I was thinking that if I had not been single my children would be of marrying age at the very least now. It was also hard because our best friend had passed away sometime ago, and never did I imagine that anyone of us would be missing each other’s milestone days. It did not help that this was the first time in a decade that I was making clear efforts to be at purely social events unrelated to business following my mother's passing away. I had forgotten the excitement of choosing a dress, make up, hairstyle, jewelry, presents and was a bit apprehensive of getting out there on the dance floor. #Egyptian parties are famous for tons of fun. I thought I might also run into some middle aged, fit and attractive silver haired guy who would sweep me off my feet with his charm and smart conversation. I guess I’m still a romantic at heart….

So while flipping through the suggestions in my profile suddenly a number of Korean titles came up. My first experience of #Asian culture was a visit to a #Chinese trade mission expo  in #Mauritania in the early 70s. I cannot remember the exact date of the event but I still have the beautiful doll, porcelain and vases we acquired. My next exposure funnily enough during the same period was #Bruce Lee’s chiseled body among the audience at a Nouakchott cinema.The fight scenes and storyline were easy to follow. I’m not sure if there were English/French subtitles because at that time I only spoke Arabic and had recently learned to read in  French in elementary school. I just loved all #Kung Fu movies, the flying kicks, the screaming and #ninja stuff before Ninjas were made popular by #Hollywood. I had a field day at home practicing with help from Mbarek and Amadou our household staff members. I think they were about 16 or less at that time and we would enact the jumping scenes at home. We would layer mattresses on the floor to avoid injury and then jump from a high vantage point usually the terrace or even the roof.I saw lots of movies of the Chinese revolution too and enjoyed them immensely. Every week it was a treat to go to the #cinema and watch either kung fu, or #Hindi or some cowboy movies. In the Hindi movies, you cried and sang and your heart was moved and you had fun for 3 hours straight. I still want to rewatch my favourite one now as a grown up but cannot remember the title. It was black and white and no it’s not the famous 1957 Mother India (which I also watched with a crying audience back then too). The cowboy movies honestly felt weird as I was rooting for the Indian protagonist in the plot and could not understand why they had to be killed. As an Arab living in an African country, I just did not get why could these American dudes not live together with those who were obviously the rightful owners of the land…

To get back to #Netflix, I like that the platform offers me a choice from all over the world. I spent  3 years watching Spanish and Portuguese speaking series and movies pre and post Covid from all across the countries that have variations of these beautiful languages.

Then I moved on to the Northern European scene, with Danish, Norwegian, Swedish and other production. Of course I had my favourite Hollywood sagas like Star Wars – which I loved watching when it premieres in any country I would be in.

So while browsing the different sections my eye was caught by the trailer of a Korean historical drama set in the Joseon dynasty: “The King’s Affection”. My only experience with South Korean film production was the movie #Parasite in 2019, which honestly I watched because it was in vogue… I may want to rewatch again. I never saw the #Squid Games. So here I was with the King and court intrigues, I had finished the dinner and could not stop watching. It’s been a year and I never turned back. To the point of when #Dune part II premiered this year (and which I was anticipating for a long time), I shamefully fell asleep. I was dumbfounded for days afterwards. What happened?

While watching South Korean drama I realized that it felt like being with your own tribe, I felt like I belonged, the jokes were fun, the characters felt like long lost friends and neighbours, the story lines were rich and full of details, the joy, the sadness, the anger, the longing, the rage, the loneliness, the pride, the success … etc.. all the emotions were there, including the trauma, the shameful past, the ordinary and the extraordinary, the experience, the sweetness, the tone of voice, the jealousy, the grit, the courage, the adolescence, the youth, the middle age, the senior years, the fantastic, the death, the birth, the mental illness and even menopause was referenced. Yes, it is drama, but you know what? drama references real life experiences. I learned about Korean #culture and fell in love with it ( I know now I am not the only one ), I learned about food, I discovered beautiful places and became curious about the history. I also learned about where I have made mistakes in my life and found out what truly inspires me and what should be my next steps. As the months passed I could watch and understand a lot without subtitles, I also forgave myself for things I had no control over. I laughed hard and cried even harder. Of course we all love happy endings, but even when that did not occur I knew why and accepted it. It was refreshing to watch something without worrying about nudity, it was amazing that murder scenes and crime could be portrayed, and you would know it was absolutely gory without the streams of blood in western movies and without any crudity. The soundtrack of my favourite series somehow ended up on my playlist and slowly the whole #playlist became solely Korean. The drama brought me back to my original self, to my firm #principles of hard work, family priority, loyalty, friendship love and courage, but also reminded me that it was ok to feel pain, to heal, to acknowledge and express my emotions to others. The dramas reminded me that it was ok to keep looking for the love that I always dreamt about. Who says it does not exist or that there is an expiry limit ? I deserve my own “oppa”. It made me come to terms with many things that were holding me back and threatened to change who I really was. The dramas gave me a reset and revived the person who had been overwhelmed with #grief for the past decade and now the #pain is bearable, and I have an outline of a plan to tackle it.

Lately I became a Korean #pop fan, something I never thought would happen to me, so never say never ….I ended up buying a lot of travel books on South Korea and am already familiar with the public transport system without stepping a foot there. I am reading a number of Korean books translated into English and have purchased Korean language learning courses. I have already tried the sentences I picked up in dramas when I went to Korean restaurants and other places frequented by Korean tourists during my travels. My next plan is a trip to South Korea in 2025 and being able to sing my favourite tunes during Karaoke… I’m even considering attending a #BTS concert!

Yes I know it's a boyband and they are  such fun :)

It is only when researching Korean drama that I realized what I was feeling was an actual global phenomenon described as “Korean Wave” or hallyu which refers to culture, food, fashion, music etc... I also felt validated when I discovered a book by a therapist (Jeanie Chang)  who uses Korean drama to help her patients heal. 

It is such fun to reveal you are a #Kdrama fan in social settings, it starts different lines of communication, banter and most times you end up making new friends. 

Now my head turns instinctively
when I hear a Korean conversation and my whole #timeline has evolved to one that brings me courage and hope… I even found an interesting public figure to have a crush on ... (can you guess who he is from the video?)  he he he …. 

Adieu my sweet friend on your final journey……

My earliest memory of Lubna was when her mother passed away in high school in the mid-80s. I walked into Lubna’s grandparents' house and this lovely girl with blond curly hair in a thick plait running down her back like Rapunzel greeted me. She had wide innocent yet knowing eyes and a tender smile, despite the tragic circumstances. Her voice was soft and composed as I hugged her awkwardly not knowing what to say to someone who had lost their mother.

It was my first funeral. I uttered the traditional Libyan words of condolences that my father taught me. The words felt clipped because I did not really know how to show emotions, I was afraid to show emotions. Yet Lubna kept my hand in hers and sat next to me quietly. Almost like it was her comforting me and not the other way around.

Until her last moment among us in this dimension, she was the same sweet, caring girl and woman.

In the last decade of her life we became very close as we worked together and though younger than me, she could not help herself to mother me. This was in her nature, she would remind me to drink my water, to eat, to leave the office and go home, to stop being a workaholic and to take care of my health. Lubna always checked if I was well and even in the middle of the pandemic she offered to bring supplies to my house when I was stuck abroad in 2020 so that my father would not risk his life!  I am sure all her friends have similar stories, those of a woman with a heart as big as the world and a contagious smile. She was a no-nonsense person and she loved to travel and loved shoes and handbags – she called them her soft spot. She was so elegant and had immense guts.

I was waiting for the world to recover from the pandemic so that I can see her seize her dream and move to a country where she believed she could live a quiet life of service and enjoyment. She longed for peace, predictability, quiet and rest, and I was going to visit and sit on the balcony with her and eat from her famous summer salad and gossip and talk about things not related to war but to love and life. She was tired of ugly.

I texted her last month for our usual social distancing meet up on the beach front park, but she told me: “no I can’t do it this week, I am going to Egypt, let’s meet when I am back!”.  I was surprised, the covid numbers where drastic in Egypt why risk it unless one has a business meeting? and even those now used online conference apps. She explained it was a vacation, that she was excited about, she had become tired of the usual Istanbul destination and now that we had direct flights to Cairo again she wanted to seize the opportunity to reconnect with a place she loved. I was skeptical because in my opinion Turkey had handled the pandemic better, was more organized and frankly had better capabilities in its health sector. But I couldn’t be the boring spoilsport and tell her not to go…. Although that was exactly what I was screaming inside my head. So I told myself Lubna was always careful, knew how to take care of herself and knew what  she was doing.

On the last day of her vacation, I asked her if she was back already and she said “no tomorrow I am supposed to fly back, but I have some bad news Intissar… my PCR test came back positive and so I will need to quarantine in Cairo until I get better!”.

I did not know that it would be the last time I hear her voice. I sent messages every day to cheer her up. Then she stopped reading the messages as the blue WhatsApp ticks did not show up. Her phone’s battery either died or it was switched off. I did not know, but I was angry at the hospital, the doctors and the isolation ward. Lubna was in an induced sedation to help her lungs recover, but I was frustrated that the staff would not allow or arrange for family members to peak at their loved ones on Facetime or WhatsApp just to be able to see them. I was worried that being alone and unable to move would take its toll on her. Yes Lubna was a fighter, but you still needed something to fight for. How can we show her that she had so much to return to? That  so many people loved her if we could not get her to hear us? Covid be damned! The sense of doom gripped my heart.

I have not pieced together her last hours, but I want to believe that she went peacefully into the quiet, beautiful and better place she always sought and that one day I hope we will be united in Heaven to sit down and chat over a summer salad and laugh at the past.

Even in her death, she continued to be of service.  So many people who did not speak with each other for years have reached out to one another for comfort. Tributes from all over Libya and the world are filling out her Facebook  page in the hundreds. The soft-spoken girl had touched so many hearts.

I cried when I heard she had moved on, I have not cried for a long, long, long time;  I have a problem in crying. That was her last gift to me, one of healing, of release of suppressed emotions and trauma, one where I could acknowledge that I missed her very much and will miss her forever. I can’t believe that I won’t be able to call her anymore, nor that my phone will light up with her thoughtful messages, but I know that for her death not to go in vain, I have to act on the lessons learnt: “There is no shame in taking care of yourself, in making yourself a priority, in seeking your happiness and peace of mind. There is no need for me to be heroic, it is ok to remove the shield around my heart to enjoy life. It is ok to be heartbroken, it means you lived and tried”.

I wanted Lubna to experience the peace and happiness she wanted, I pray she is in peace now with her loved ones who had preceded her. Yet I find myself hoping that she still will have the  the time to look my way and be with me when I do the things I want with her in mind sort of like a bucket list. She left us too soon, I did not realize how much I loved this wonderful friend, until she was gone. That’s another lesson, don’t’ hold back in in expressing your love to others, ego be damned, if they don’t respond it is on them but you would have shared your heart and planted a seed.

I will miss Lubna every day of my life. Rest in Peace sweet angel. Thank you for having allowed me to walk with you for part of the journey.

Intissar

Photocredit: from her public social media profile.

Operation Going Back to Tripoli

It's been exactly two months since I returned to Tripoli on one of the numerous repatriation flights for Libyan travellers stranded overseas.
I spent 66 days in Istanbul!
Days when I felt my life had stopped and where I had one goal only in sight namely to go back home.

To that end once the first couple of weeks had elapsed, I started project "Going back to Tripoli":

• I inquired at the Consulate  3 times a week about any updates and started following their Facebook page.
• I joined a Facebook group called "الليبيين العالقين في اسطنبول"  i.e Libyans stranded in Istanbul to get live news about what is going on and the situation of repatriation flights. There are thousands of Libyans on this page and being able to commiserate, cheer each other up, find out how to get things while in lockdown and any updates from back home as everyone knows someone who knows someone .....This page was my lifeline. It has recently been renamed as "Libyan Conversations in Turkey" as most of the original founders and admins are now back home and so it now serves Libyans in a more general way. 
• I tapped into my contacts for any info on how I could be included on one of the official non-commercial flight back home - but I was not a VIP and therefore that never panned out.
• When I gave up on normal transport I checked with my travel insurance if they would cover the cost of hiring a private jet  -> I know, sounds crazy right but it could have worked ....

Flight Tracking Radar Tweep 😎

• I started following all the radar gurus on social media who monitored flights in and out of Libya. The airspace was still super busy so how come I could not get one single place home? by hook or by crook?                         

• I started looking for options to travel by sea and contacted transport merchant ships for a chance to get on board as a passenger. Apparently even if I could get past the Turkish authorities I would not be allowed to disembark in Libya... plus it was a cargo ship full of sailors and no women. Negative too.

• Then when my desperation grew  worse I contacted private international flight operators. I finally settled on one company who quoted a price that if I shared it with 5 other passengers maximum  would at this point be affordable. Basically I would spend the savings meticulously put aside for my big summer vacation around Europe; but I figured it was worth it since no vacation will be possible in 2020 what with the COVID19 situation. The plan was how to discreetly recruit 5 other passengers without creating a ruckus around me. After postings on Twitter and Facebook and phone calls to different friends and family members I managed to get hold of 5 others willing to share the cost of chartering  our  private jet. Unfortunately by then Libyan Aviation Authority stopped allowing private jets with Libyan travellers on board (unless you are VIP of course) and so after we paid the invoice as prerequisite for starting the process, the operator could not get the permit to land anymore. I tried very hard with all my contacts to get a special clearance even showing that we will abide by any rigorous quarantine requested from us to no avail. That was a hard blow, to start the re-imbursement process after our hopes were raised.

• At this point Libyan authorities had finally come up with a plan. You take a COVID19 test, then quarantine at the designated hotels in Istanbul for 14 days then take another test and if both are negative you get sent home. I thought it was a waste of public money but hey who was to talk!  The problem ? It was not easy, how to get on the rota? I had already registered but needed to wait for my name to  be listed and paired with hotel. There were thousands of  people still before me already distributed in 13 hotels. 
• As the war on Tripoli became more intense with casualties mounting, my anguish increased exponentially. By now I started following the accounts of rescue ships in the Mediterranean Sea in case I could get a ride on them. I dabbled with looking into the people smuggling business but I was not even sure it existed in the reverse direction as in from North to South. I was aghast at how were all these illegal migrants who took to the sea able to get in touch with patrons.  I looked into ordering a Thuraya phone in the event that I do find a way back by sea. That's when I realised that I did not know any bandits or criminals and have had no dealings of that sort ever in my life. A gap that needed to be filled to thrive in today's Libya. I remembered almost ironically my colleague's remark when I became stranded at the beginning. " Do your best to get as soon as possible home Intissar, but don't get mixed up with pirates ! " I desperately needed a pirate now but did not know any unfortunately. 
• Those two intense months were quasi unreal, I made some friends online thru social media which helped preserve my sanity even though I was in daily contact with my family and BFFs and I am forever grateful for these people. Maybe it was the same for them as they were all stuck in or outside Libya and wanting to move on with their lives. I also received immense support from followers on Twitter and Facebook.

• Then, I  turned to another option, there was talk of repatriation via private flights to Benghazi and I was ready to get on any of them and then worry about the more than 1000 km drive back to Tripoli across major combat frontlines and desert land but it never materialised. I tried traveling to other countries where repatriation to Libya was sooner on the schedule but this proved impossible.
• I even looked into getting a place on an Air Ambulance but was unsuccessful.
• The likelihood of not being at home and something grave happening was killing me  bit by bit and the prospect of not being in control of my destiny almost gave me a heart attack. Project Going back to #Tripoli looked like it was not bearing fruits. The holy month of Ramadan had begun. I had never missed a Ramadan at home unless I was taking an exam abroad. The nightmare staring at me in the face was untenable!
• That's when my body gave out and experienced "stroke like" symptoms. Imagine calling an ambulance in the midst of a pandemic in a foreign land and going to the ER and being referred to a neurosurgeon all within one day only before finally entering the quarantine hotel to start your journey home. It was not even a choice, I took the path home and left the medical decision to God and to after the Covid situation is under control world-wide. Now was the time to be with family, feel their love, share what they are enduring.... Time to look inward. 

My luggage finally out of the door

• The 14 days in the La Quinta by Wyndham hotel journey, courtesy of the Libyan Consulate began. This was a complete lockdown even worse than my 50 days alone before. Because then I was in a flat with a scenic view and fresh air. I could visit the sitting room  or the bedroom, stand on the terrace at least. Here in the hotel, I barely went out of my room and you were not allowed to roam the hallways. Because of my food allergies my meals were delivered to me. The hotel was locked from the outside once we all did the COVID test. In a way it was liberating, I now gave myself the right to stop pursuing Operation Going back to Tripoli. I was helpless and I could totally binge on Netflix day and night, or search  for the best way to make my meals palatable. Winter had turned into warm spring, whilst my wardrobe was fitted for the Canadian weather of February. Finally the day my second test came back negative I could relish the dream of boarding that flight home. I did not even worry about how I was going to get from Misrata to Tripoli after we land. One step at a time I told myself. We were still in the thick of the aerial shelling of Tripoli and the frontlines were very fluid and dramatic.

Bob

• I posted  in detail about my trip back home ( check it out if you can read Arabic). I was grateful that I would still get to spend the last third of Ramadan with my family even if I would be mostly self isolating. I dreamt of the delicious home made meals....as cooking on my own had not worked out so well. The heart was not in it,  my focus was only to get to Tripoli. 

Two months since the bus dropped me at the traffic light on the Main Street closest to our house in Tripoli at 10.30 pm and I don't regret for one second picking the route home. Sometimes I felt like a drug dealer, at others like 007 but most of the time I tried to avoid feeling helpless. 

At the end of the day Operation Going Back to Tripoli  did succeed, as thousands of my compatriots, friends and colleagues remain stranded on different continents awaiting their countries procedures. Sadly I had to leave behind my 2 month old friend the cactus Bob as I could not transport him without damaging him. I hope someone from the hotel staff adopted him. 

It has been 5 months since a tiny virus called Corona literally brought the world to a halt and I am blessed to be with my loved ones enjoying a respite in the Tripoli conflict as the guns have fallen silent after 451 days. Let's take a bit of time to breath and recuperate and watch this space for my next installment : A time for introspection soon. 

The bus home !

Stranded in Turkey in the times of Corona

Staying at home

I have lived in or visited ( for more than 3 days)  a total of 34 countries . I  have not counted any  period less nor transit trips nor repeat visits as some places were visited between 5 to 10 times a year.

It is almost like travelling has been my passion since the day I was born! I remember going for weekends to Beirut in the 60s Dakkar in the 70s or London in 2000s.. Yes when I reflect back it seems I led a charmed life - whatever that means –lucky breaks or tragedies.  

For the past 7 years my job required me to travel often to neighbouring countries or to Europe, Asia and North America for meetings, conferences and workshops. It was exciting but also exhausting yet provided an interesting background to my life in Libya during an active civil war. On my final business trip in March 2020, the Covid19 pandemic caught up with me and finally grounded me in Istanbul (Turkey). During seven years of a gruelling war, bombed airports, shelled cities, militia fights and you name it, I always managed to get home. No rockets ever completely stopped the Libyan spirit and our airports always stood back on their feet making up to the best of their abilities for gruelling international flight bans and serving  the Libyan travellers to the limited destinations left to them out of Libya. 

Basically the various Libyan companies operating flights ( Buraq, Libya Airways, Libya Wings, Afriqiyah, Rahila etc….) and even the air ambulance could only fly to : Amman, Alexandria, Khartoum, Nigeria, Tunis, Istanbul and a special foreign charter flight to Malta, + Jeddah during the Hajj season.  Following the Tripoli war of 2014, 99.9% of the world slapped visas on Libyan passport holders and from the above list only, Tunisia exempts us from visa requirement. Tunis and Istanbul became a hub for connecting flights.  Internal travel was also disrupted between Benghazi and Tripoli post April 2019 creating a virtual checkpoint in airspace disrupting lives and livelihoods, because one side of the country had the monopoly on flights to the Middle East while it still was able to fly to Tunis and the other side of the country could only go to Tunis and Istanbul otherwise it will be shot down by the fighter jets of the Libyan National Army operating in Benghazi.  Therefore a de-facto physical division of the country occurred.

Between 15 and 16 March regardless where your city is, if your airport destination was western Libya then you have a become a statistic in airports and countries all over the world. It was 19 March if your airport destination was in eastern Libya. The authorities in the west (I will call them Weststan) gave no initial warning of the land, sea and air closures, while those in the east (whom I will call Eaststan) where a little more lenient and sent a warning  4 days in advance. Neither had any strategy for dealing with the citizens who found themselves, penniless, homeless, paperless, stateless and isolated, during a worldwide pandemic . Classic botched up job no less!

I could not believe how I on earth I managed to find myself on the wrong side of the fence at this most important time in history!

Working from home

Since the plans to celebrate my upcoming freedom from employment and go on a long vacation were shelved due to the increased impact of the  Covid19 contagion, I had an alternative plan namely to enjoy social distancing with the 450 books and 300 magazines purchased in the last 6 years, learn hip-hop, unearth my mother’s cooking recipes and play chess with my dad. None of that happened, I found myself alone in Turkey, stuck at home in winter, struggling to remember how to operate the oven and make a meal with arthritic hands. In 30 days the number of people I spoke to in person can be counted on the fingers of one hand, including the cashier at the market. Thankfully I was able to speak to my father and some friends online . In the first 3 weeks I still had a job and some work to finish so I could pretend that I had a structure to my day and thing will improve and I could go home.

I registered with the Libyan Consulate and gave them my phone number so they could contact me when the repatriation flights start as I had decided to stay in my own place. If you take the accommodation they had started offering you have to give up your passport. Something I would never do considering how hard it is to get a Libyan passport in the current circumstances. Also how can you do social distancing if they would put me up with a total stranger in the same room?

My neighbours

It’s been a long journey from the 16^th of March (I won’t count the days before that as this was the last day I had seen an airport).  I have become accustomed to being a hermit, and so now find myself at a loss for words when I speak to others. The few times I went out for supplies I feared going near people. I had plans to start a distance learning course but did not have the discipline to do it because my energy was drained being angry at how did I get stuck here and I should be home helping and enduring  the war with my father. The prison I had chosen is in one of the housing compounds on the suburbs of Istanbul, mountainous, far away and isolated. The point was I did not want crowds. The highlight of my days became the daily passage of a herd of cows in the valley across my temporary refuge. There are 6 brown cows, 13 mixed colour and  3 brown ones. There are two shepherds. My favourite bull is a brown one with shortish horns. Sometimes I wave to them. On my two-week anniversary in detention I went out to replenish my supplies and enjoy a bicycle ride in the spring. The supermarket is a couple of kilometres away.  I was able to see the cows up close and was a bit afraid of my friend the bull. What if he attacked me? The shepherd looked at me with curiosity because I was singing loudly in the street. That day I bought a cactus and named him Bob. Bob is very low maintenance and won’t mind when I don’t feel like having a conversation.

My friend Bob

I want to go home and have been knocking at different doors, not leaving any stone unturned, but I don’t have any VIP pull, so I have reached the point of looking for pirate ships but I don’t know how to contact pirates! I am living in limbo: neither here nor there! 

It has been a month and  Libya has still not come up with any decent strategy to repatriate the  approximately 7000 citizens stranded abroad, 3000 of whom I was told are in Turkey. Turkey is a lovely country  in ordinary time, but these are extraordinary time and it is the 7th worst hit  Corona country in the world.  It is disheartening to  put the life of Libyan travellers at risk by keeping them prisoners with not choice but to also see the people who were here for a  two day meeting, or medical treatment, a vacation from the madness at home or studying or just passing by like me, be separated from their families, or unable to bury a dead with them, or not able to complete treatment because the hospitals discharged them as non essential treatment, or unable to continue their studies. So many stories intermingled with war, hate speech, sadness, feeling let down by your country and worried about what next as you cannot assess the change that is happening in the world when you are not staying in a familiar place. We are told we need to keep our immune system strong to fight the disease, how is that going to happen I wonder? The other day I looked at my luggage and found that the things of only  a month ago feel like another lifetime.