The Playgrounds

I am happy. At both my present, and at the circumstance which led me here; which means that I am moving further and further away from where the rock landed in the sea that is my life.

You know what would make me happier, however? If people in the MENA region would let me swing and also ride merry-go-rounds. In Egypt, I found a carousel. When I approached to buy my ticket, I was told I was not permitted to do so because I was an adult (little did they know).

When I pointed out that there was an adult on the carousel, they told me that she was allowed because she was escorting her infant. (Madness!)

With full confidence, I declared that in this instance, I was in fact the child, and my dad (standing next to me and agreeing wholeheartedly) would join and supervise. They were not having it because they lack imagination and approach life like a fundamentalist.

I considered running past them and launching myself at the merry-go-round, but then remembered 1. I have very bad aim and would likely smash my face into either the center of the wheel or the infant being supervised by its mum, killing us both, and 2. the gatekeepers also controlled the movement of the carousel. Assuming I landed upright, they would just stop it and arrest me and throw me into the sea. Or something.

Cue the UAE.

There are playgrounds all around me. All of which have swings and gates. All of which also have clearly marked age ranges, none above 12. Even when there are no children, I am not permitted to play. They will not take my money. They will not let me swing. How is this real life, MENA?

Today, I am grateful for:
1. Having found the coffee shoppe to which I will walk daily, inshAllah, along the Cornishe. Illy! I am so excited!
2. The music of Omar Bashir.
3. Friends, the television sitcom. Though not so intelligent, you are still funny today.

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