ENGL253 focuses on life history including autobiography and biography writing. You will be asked to reflect on the course readings and discussions by contributing to the classroom blog. Each student should write two entries per week. The length of each entry should not exceed 15 lines. Enjoy the blog!
Thursday, March 28, 2013
Descriptive Paragraph
Using vivid details and in one paragraph describe a neighbourhood in your city/village.
My neighborhood is a little bit of everything. At times silence takes over, and at other times racket fills the air. It is almost impossible for someone to find a parking place in my neighborhood- that is for sure- but what you always find are children running swiftly after each other while playing tag, some hiding between the bushes or the huge cars for hide-and-seek, and some, in the midst of summer hotness, eating the most delicious ice-cream cone from the most famous place in the neighborhood. Excluding winter times, merchants in my neighborhood are constantly working, lifting heavy boxes of mouthwatering vegetables, and displacing junk so as to attract the carefree kinds running around to buy. To add to that, the merchants Amo Bilal and Amo Abou Hadi almost always suffer from agitated kids wanting to buy junk from their markets but never had any money. Good thing they know all the kids’ parents in the neighborhood that would later pay them back for sure. During winter, however, the way I describe my neighborhood would be: just inert! Merchants would stock their finest vegetables inside their markets, people would be running around like frogs from one place to another to avoid the paddles of water, kids no longer playing around foolishly, and still, absolutely no place for a car to park. I remember when I was young, I always used to marvel at the magnificence of the white sheet covering the streets and the cars, and then just disappears after some hour or two. It was rare for that incident to occur, though. That was the only exciting thing about my neighborhood during winter. What was active, too, was the 24/7 gas station that was some 60m away from where I live. The station was also practically the only place in the neighborhood that had change for money. Besides that, my neighborhood is the place I have been raised up in for my whole life. If I were to choose to change it, I wouldn’t.
My neighborhood is made up of several buildings that are placed next to each other. The first two buildings are like twins because they are just the same size and have a very similar aspect. They even are named after the twin daughters of the man who constructed them: Carole and Nicole. Well, I live in Carole. Between Carole and Nicole, there is a space that is supposed to be used for the cars to park but the residents leave this space for the children to play and and park somewhere just a little above our buildings that also belong to us. The residents have mostly small children. I think my twin brother and me are the only adolescents in the twin buildings. The rest are about to graduate with masters from the university and live in beirut dorms or are jus too old. So thanks God I have my brother to entertain myself with...So all fridays and saturdays and whenever there is a school break, the children unite themselves and agree on a certain game to play. When the time starts to get late or their voices start to get too loud for the first floor residents to bear, they come out and start to shout at children for each one to return to his house. I always die laughing when I hear the 60 year-old woman in the nicole building that unluckily (for her) happens to live just near the playground, shouting and scaring the children off the playground. There are other times when the boys of the twin buildings unite with the boys of the neighborhood right next to us and play football against each other. I always know from my 13 year-old young brother, who is the scorer of the neighborhhod,who´s the winner. He doesn´t even have to speak to realize it because you can see it from his body language. Yeah, it is really difficult to hide the loosing dissapointment from our faces. I really like my neighborhhod and all the members, even the shouting woman. When the day is sunny, we all walk along in our sports suits and tour in between all the buildings of all the neighborhhods. They are not the most luxurious buildings but, at least for now, I don´t think i could live happier anywhere else.
At the heart of the village, there lies my neighborhood. It is a very tranquil place where you could peacefully enjoy the hums of the singing birds. Lining up the road to it are evergreen trees that stand tall and proud. My neighborhood is not so crowded, having only a few houses scattered here and there. Whether covered by a blanket of pure white snow during winter or a veil of flowers during spring, my neighborhood lacks nothing of beauty. It’s a place where you’d appreciate nature and smile at the kids that are running around, playing, and chasing each other. This is my neighborhood, full of my memories that I’ll keep with me and treasure for a lifetime to come.
20 years from now i was born in a village full of life,enthusiasm and peace.i grew up in a warm and lovely neighborhood where every one in this square love each other.people living in this place join together in every occasion to prepare sweets. In that time I only look out from the window how women were in hurry and proud about their sweets.a small garden in my neighborhood was planted in lettuce,tomato,cucumbers and every vegetable that a person ever desire.Fruitful trees decorate the entrance of my place.A huge pine tree was the most helpful tree I used to lay under it to take of all the stress. Full of joy ,happiness and peace my neighborhood had raised the most peaceful,generous and polite people on earth.
Its hard to describe where I come from. I come from a place like no other. My neighborhood is a place of extremes. It can be very quiet on Sundays but all the other days very lively. The street is always filled with cars because theres an auto repair shop under my building. I live in the 8th floor and you can still hear the sound of workers trying to change a tire or the sound of trucks carrying tires and placing them in their underground store. In front of my building there’s a car wash so you can always hear the sound of water splashing on the cars. In addition, right next to my house there’s a huge empty space in which young kids come almost everyday in the afternoon and play soccer. It sometimes gets annoying hearing them scream to eachother “pass me the ball” and yelling each other’s names especially when Im trying to study but that’s what I like about my neighborhood. Its always alive. The cleaners are always there to make sure the streets are clean and clear. You can find any type of restaurant you want in my neighborhood: European, Asian, Middle-Eastern, and Western and the employers are always ready to serve you with a big heart. The second I step in my neighborhood I feel safe because I know im in a peaceful place and that’s the why reason I love it.
My neighborhood is one of a kind!It makes an amazing first impression on you.When you first enter,you see an exquisite landscape of brick houses and olive trees.Tranquility,amity, and harmony dominate all over!When the olive season arrives,people from all over the neighborhood come to collect and store them.Among these collectors are some of the friendliest people you could meet.Furthermore, there are multiple and modest supermarkets with a wide variety of goods.Additionally, grand architecture,two schools, history centers, outstanding and grabbing views,blossomed flowers,and enormous trees all make up and describe this sector.These are just few of many that make up my village so special and unique !
Time moves slowly. Cars are old. People are old. The stories are old. Technology’s tentacles haven’t yet outstretched to this particular edge of the earth, and so, time moves slowly; like it used to when I was a child. When the days were long, filled with play and talk and then some more play. The thick stench of Turkish coffee and cigarettes envelops the village walls, enough to make one cringe at the mere hint of the odor. It isn’t a very colorful place. Its building blocks are mostly shabby, fading and gray, left to age with its inhabitants. Early in the morning, the reek is at its bleakest, and you can see the men and women of old Lebanon read the Arabic newspapers as they ‘tsk’ and shake their heads in dispute. “Wayno Lebnenna” they say as their eyes scan the headlines, “Where is our Lebanon...” Shops, libraries and markets begin to liven. The women do their best to clean and chase away the dust outside their stores and inside, as the men do their best to look presentable in advent of new customers. The residents haven’t yet outlived Lebanese etiquette. They are humbled at the sight of old friends and new faces alike, but the keenness to serve overflows at the sight of the youthful. Then and only then, do they have the right to interrupt their life long occupations and adhere to mothering the novelty youths. “What would you like to drink? Or eat? I made these fatayer only yesterday! Please taste this freshly baked khobez” And on and on they would speak to me, never taking a breath in fear that their offerings would be refused. They’d talk, and the lines around their eyes and mouths would deepen as they smiled. Glorified smiles. Victorious smiles. Oh the young, what joy and envy they must bring. The majorities of those who live there are great storytellers, and so never miss an opportunity to tell a listening ear of the adventures in old Beirut, an old woman testifies, saying: “Twenty-five Piasters my father would give me on the weekends! Beirut was another place… Now I don’t even recognize it” She spoke in soft-spoken Arabic. “Ten Piasters for one Mankouche, and another ten for RC” RC being what we know today as Pepsi. “I would take a taxi from Bkenaya to Jal el Dib for only 25 Piasters and spend the day watching movies at the Acropole! Oh the times, how’ve they’ve changed” And they have. Old Lebanon, the Lebanon these people knew, was safe; as is this village. They live as if in another era, they’ve created their own time machine, and have traveled back the years to live as they once have. To live as they have known, in this sanctuary of a village.
Cars unlocked, doors unlocked and wide open. Little boys and girls playing between the houses, those same boys and girls that will grow up, fall in love, get married, and watch their own children play between the same houses. The sun’s burning heat balanced by the treetop’s shade. Every drop of ice cream falling from its cone vaporizes as it touches the sizzling floor. The closely-knit buildings give leeway for the neighbors to converse from balcony to balcony. I walk into the house and see my family'. The wrinkled faces of my grandparents, the fresh joyful faces of my baby cousins, the loving faces of my uncles, and the neighbors’ faces. The neighbors are the people that I’ve been seeing for years. The same faces that I have grown to love as I would love my own family. When a child falls down, all you can hear is the concerned pleas of everyone on the balconies. “Allah w smallah”, “esem el salib”, and phrases calling for the help of the saints and Virgin Mary. What you feel is tangible love. When the sun is setting, a cool breeze takes over. Tranquility. Serenity. Peace of mind. The only sound you can hear is the bubbling of the fruit tainted and tasteful water that lays at the bottom of the nargile tube. You relax, and watch the smoke from the nargile rise and disperse until it disappears. You slowly give in to the stillness of your surroundings.
Lying in the center of the boisterous village of Amioun, my neighborhood is one of a kind. From the very moment that you get into my neighborhood, you can see that it has a little bit of everything. A football playground where children head to on the weekends, a few supermarkets on both sides of the road, and a sports shop are only a few aspects that decorate my neighborhood. The recently revived clock bangs every hour to remind the villagers of the time. Furthermore, my neighborhood is always buzzing with people dashing to the post office or to the pharmacy. However, we are still waiting for the initiation of the construction of the mall that is to be across my home. All in all, my neighborhood is the center of attraction of Amioun and even to the whole Koura district.
No one can live alone. Neighborhood is part of our lifes either we like it or not. I get along my neighboors, they kind of raised me. However, my problem has nothing to do with my neighbors, but with the place that I live in. My building is in a very crowded street. There are all the shopping stores, and because I live in the first floor i can hear clearly all the noises. During the day, there is no chance to sleep or to rest a little by having a nap, because the beeping of the cars don't stop. These noises hunted us all the time. Another problem is the parking. I can't find a free space to park my car and if I was lucky to find one I should pay! We put coins in the machine but the annoying part is that it has a limitted time. If you ever forget to put a coin or you had exceeded the time allowed your car will be booked and you have to pay a fine. That doesn't end here. There is always traffic jams and now it is even worse because they are fixing the underground construction of the streets next to ours so the cars have to pass through the street where i live. If I have a plan or meeting I could never be on time, I am always late I could never predict how much time it would take, it could take 15, 30 minutes or even an hour to get nearby . Another negative point is that we are known of all the owners of the stores, so if something happens we feel that everyone is looking. They want to know what is going on so they can gossip. On the other hand there are some positive things. Everything is close to my house, the market, the hairstylist, the shopping stores, anything I need I can get it very easily without wasting time since I don't need to use my car. Although during the day I can't sleep but at night everything is very quite. If I need to go out at night, things get scary. The streets look like the ones in the horror movies, nothing and no one on the street. You can here the sound of your steps and whenever you talk you feel like everyone is listening since you hear echo. This is the case of a person living in an urban region.
“Kis* Imaya**** ya wlad l alf ****** “ and a lot of other creative and colorful cussing words every time the ball goes over to the other side of the wall. The wall was a couple of meters high, no paint, no graffiti; just small holes that we have drilled through the cement blocks to sneak on the wicked witch living on the other side. Three walnut, lemon and fig trees from her side gave us some good shades to play in, while the rest of the playground concrete was a burning field of coal. The playground was in the middle of the neighborhood, once you hear that squeaky rusty steel gate open, it takes but a few seconds for all the kids to get there. A few meters downhill lays a warehouse for storing some goods. The warehouse is an atrocity of architect and engineering, a five year old with Lego bricks could have done better, with its oblique walls and cracked rooftop. Uphill from the playground three wide stretches of planting land, yet with no plants; a few wild trees (fig, apple, and berry trees) and waist-high grass all over. The grass bows to the grounds in many spots where we used to hide when playing hide and seek, and even vanishes where we dug holes in the ground to hide in. Last but not least, the road at the edge of our neighborhood, the road which leads you outside town, a road where I carry bits and pieces of my childhood every time I move out of the neighborhood.
I love my neighborhood. As a child of a university professor, I’ve grown up on university campuses, living among my mother’s colleagues. Since I was little, I thought that the job came with a degree of insanity. Especially if you live in a place concentrated with teachers from all over the globe. Alcoholics, poets, absent-minded mothers, scary children, people too tall or obese to fit through the lobby doors, orientalist enthusiasts, one-eyed adventurers from Alaska, the perfect family who never talks to anyone… I can’t suppress a smile when I witness it all. Every day I return back home at 5 o’clock from my classes. The group of neighbors is always strategically there, chatting lively, children running around, 4-year-old Bogdan trying to run over everyone with his new ATV, Hugo the adolescent dog whining for food and biting people’s legs… Pretending not to be a sociopath, I join the crowd for a mere two minutes to exercise small-talk and laugh at the cute baby. Then I slip away and prepare for an evening marked by a heated debate over the “role of noticing and language awareness” between monarchists and postmodern communists, which is always resolved by a few shots of vodka.
I grew up in a neighborhood known by "Hay Al-Amwat" (Neighborhood of the dead). Its name alone is enough to brighten the image of the kind of environment this neighborhood has. It is located between two old villages East of Saida - Majdelyoun and Abra. It consists of six houses, including ours, an old church, and two graveyards each for the residents of each of the two villages. It is not the kind of neighborhood where you observe children playing soccer on the streets and some people crossing by walking their pets or jogging. Unless it is a Sunday evening, silence dominated it. All you can hear is some light wind blowing through leaves of trees and the waving of bats’ wings. To me, this silence is a big advantage for it plays a major role in keeping us in calmed moods. Some people won’t be comfortable living in such a neighborhood for they think excessive quietness disturbing, but I love it.
I personally despise home developments where every house looks the same. In my town, every street is unique and different. All of the homes are different. I live in a seven floor building, across the street is a 19 story hotel and next to that is a six story center and so on and so forth. This uncoordinated and planned building growth leads to traffic congestion and crowding in some areas but it’s all good in Zalka! I would rather enjoy diversity of many people and houses than a matched, developmental structure. The streets are always filled with cars and school buses during the week days and it feels like all people are trying to get to the same crowded destination which is the Souks. Souk al Zalka is right across the street. People never get bored staring at the stores all day long. I could always notice from my balcony that people access the stores and exits without buying anything, it’s though they’re just spending time and not spending money. It’s not much of a haven to speak of when describing my neighborhood objectively, but there is something about it that made it mine and made my own house feels exceptional.
My neighborhood was the quietest place ever. It was not the ordinary type of neighborhood, it wasn’t crowed, houses were far apart, and in some way it looked like a compound. Trees were planted all along the road some elevated, some short, some matured, and some miniature. Flowers were of all colors planted in front of each house. On sunny afternoons women would be picking some vine leaves for the Sunday meal. Along the way children were riding their bikes other playing football. Being part of village at the end of my neighbor there lived a family that owned some cows and goats they would let them out to run wild a little bit. On that street there was never a shop and till now it doesn’t have a shop. It has a gas station at its entrance. Also a piano teacher had a shop near it music was always rising from that place. All the children of my neighborhood would go to Mr. Fouad for piano lessons. My neighborhood has endless stories that make it one of a kind .
So many things to talk about my village, and Describing everything about it will Fill the ocean. In brief, I can recognize my village by it's smell, the smell of the orange bloom and the dirt. I love it at all times of the day, in the morning I hear the rooster's echo from a far distance, I hear the sound of the saw cutting the trees and the men calling each other for work. In the afternoon when I walk on the road women call me for a cup of tea it's just amazing. One village one familly. At night, it's just me and the stars. A huge big dark sky winking at me and a moon so beautiful makes me wanna lay on the ground and keep watching all night long. My village is my magical exit to a fabulous place away from the city
my village is called Hakl Azime . it is located on the high mountains of lebanon . it has enormous trees, and the exotic plants. Even though the land is not that big , but the person may experience different smells . Sometimes it is the smell of the apple trees , sometimes it is the peach , and sometimes it is the smell of goats that recently passed by . Hakl Azime is like paradise with beautiful waterfalls and cold rivers streaming in the deep valley. it was said that a family of deers wondered in its field.
My neighborhood is a little bit of everything. At times silence takes over, and at other times racket fills the air. It is almost impossible for someone to find a parking place in my neighborhood- that is for sure- but what you always find are children running swiftly after each other while playing tag, some hiding between the bushes or the huge cars for hide-and-seek, and some, in the midst of summer hotness, eating the most delicious ice-cream cone from the most famous place in the neighborhood. Excluding winter times, merchants in my neighborhood are constantly working, lifting heavy boxes of mouthwatering vegetables, and displacing junk so as to attract the carefree kinds running around to buy. To add to that, the merchants Amo Bilal and Amo Abou Hadi almost always suffer from agitated kids wanting to buy junk from their markets but never had any money. Good thing they know all the kids’ parents in the neighborhood that would later pay them back for sure. During winter, however, the way I describe my neighborhood would be: just inert! Merchants would stock their finest vegetables inside their markets, people would be running around like frogs from one place to another to avoid the paddles of water, kids no longer playing around foolishly, and still, absolutely no place for a car to park. I remember when I was young, I always used to marvel at the magnificence of the white sheet covering the streets and the cars, and then just disappears after some hour or two. It was rare for that incident to occur, though. That was the only exciting thing about my neighborhood during winter. What was active, too, was the 24/7 gas station that was some 60m away from where I live. The station was also practically the only place in the neighborhood that had change for money. Besides that, my neighborhood is the place I have been raised up in for my whole life. If I were to choose to change it, I wouldn’t.
ReplyDeleteMy neighborhood is made up of several buildings that are placed next to each other. The first two buildings are like twins because they are just the same size and have a very similar aspect. They even are named after the twin daughters of the man who constructed them: Carole and Nicole. Well, I live in Carole. Between Carole and Nicole, there is a space that is supposed to be used for the cars to park but the residents leave this space for the children to play and and park somewhere just a little above our buildings that also belong to us. The residents have mostly small children. I think my twin brother and me are the only adolescents in the twin buildings. The rest are about to graduate with masters from the university and live in beirut dorms or are jus too old. So thanks God I have my brother to entertain myself with...So all fridays and saturdays and whenever there is a school break, the children unite themselves and agree on a certain game to play. When the time starts to get late or their voices start to get too loud for the first floor residents to bear, they come out and start to shout at children for each one to return to his house. I always die laughing when I hear the 60 year-old woman in the nicole building that unluckily (for her) happens to live just near the playground, shouting and scaring the children off the playground. There are other times when the boys of the twin buildings unite with the boys of the neighborhood right next to us and play football against each other. I always know from my 13 year-old young brother, who is the scorer of the neighborhhod,who´s the winner. He doesn´t even have to speak to realize it because you can see it from his body language. Yeah, it is really difficult to hide the loosing dissapointment from our faces. I really like my neighborhhod and all the members, even the shouting woman. When the day is sunny, we all walk along in our sports suits and tour in between all the buildings of all the neighborhhods. They are not the most luxurious buildings but, at least for now, I don´t think i could live happier anywhere else.
ReplyDeleteAt the heart of the village, there lies my neighborhood. It is a very tranquil place where you could peacefully enjoy the hums of the singing birds. Lining up the road to it are evergreen trees that stand tall and proud. My neighborhood is not so crowded, having only a few houses scattered here and there. Whether covered by a blanket of pure white snow during winter or a veil of flowers during spring, my neighborhood lacks nothing of beauty. It’s a place where you’d appreciate nature and smile at the kids that are running around, playing, and chasing each other. This is my neighborhood, full of my memories that I’ll keep with me and treasure for a lifetime to come.
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDelete20 years from now i was born in a village full of life,enthusiasm and peace.i grew up in a warm and lovely neighborhood where every one in this square love each other.people living in this place join together in every occasion to prepare sweets. In that time I only look out from the window how women were in hurry and proud about their sweets.a small garden in my neighborhood was planted in lettuce,tomato,cucumbers and every vegetable that a person ever desire.Fruitful trees decorate the entrance of my place.A huge pine tree was the most helpful tree I used to lay under it to take of all the stress. Full of joy ,happiness and peace my neighborhood had raised the most peaceful,generous and polite people on earth.
ReplyDeleteIts hard to describe where I come from. I come from a place like no other. My neighborhood is a place of extremes. It can be very quiet on Sundays but all the other days very lively. The street is always filled with cars because theres an auto repair shop under my building. I live in the 8th floor and you can still hear the sound of workers trying to change a tire or the sound of trucks carrying tires and placing them in their underground store. In front of my building there’s a car wash so you can always hear the sound of water splashing on the cars. In addition, right next to my house there’s a huge empty space in which young kids come almost everyday in the afternoon and play soccer. It sometimes gets annoying hearing them scream to eachother “pass me the ball” and yelling each other’s names especially when Im trying to study but that’s what I like about my neighborhood. Its always alive. The cleaners are always there to make sure the streets are clean and clear. You can find any type of restaurant you want in my neighborhood: European, Asian, Middle-Eastern, and Western and the employers are always ready to serve you with a big heart. The second I step in my neighborhood I feel safe because I know im in a peaceful place and that’s the why reason I love it.
ReplyDeleteMy neighborhood is one of a kind!It makes an amazing first impression on you.When you first enter,you see an exquisite landscape of brick houses and olive trees.Tranquility,amity, and harmony dominate all over!When the olive season arrives,people from all over the neighborhood come to collect and store them.Among these collectors are some of the friendliest people you could meet.Furthermore, there are multiple and modest supermarkets with a wide variety of goods.Additionally, grand architecture,two schools, history centers, outstanding and grabbing views,blossomed flowers,and enormous trees all make up and describe this sector.These are just few of many that make up my village so special and unique !
ReplyDeleteSANCTUARY.
ReplyDeleteTime moves slowly.
Cars are old. People are old. The stories are old. Technology’s tentacles haven’t yet outstretched to this particular edge of the earth, and so, time moves slowly; like it used to when I was a child. When the days were long, filled with play and talk and then some more play.
The thick stench of Turkish coffee and cigarettes envelops the village walls, enough to make one cringe at the mere hint of the odor. It isn’t a very colorful place. Its building blocks are mostly shabby, fading and gray, left to age with its inhabitants.
Early in the morning, the reek is at its bleakest, and you can see the men and women of old Lebanon read the Arabic newspapers as they ‘tsk’ and shake their heads in dispute. “Wayno Lebnenna” they say as their eyes scan the headlines, “Where is our Lebanon...”
Shops, libraries and markets begin to liven. The women do their best to clean and chase away the dust outside their stores and inside, as the men do their best to look presentable in advent of new customers.
The residents haven’t yet outlived Lebanese etiquette. They are humbled at the sight of old friends and new faces alike, but the keenness to serve overflows at the sight of the youthful. Then and only then, do they have the right to interrupt their life long occupations and adhere to mothering the novelty youths. “What would you like to drink? Or eat? I made these fatayer only yesterday! Please taste this freshly baked khobez” And on and on they would speak to me, never taking a breath in fear that their offerings would be refused. They’d talk, and the lines around their eyes and mouths would deepen as they smiled. Glorified smiles. Victorious smiles. Oh the young, what joy and envy they must bring.
The majorities of those who live there are great storytellers, and so never miss an opportunity to tell a listening ear of the adventures in old Beirut, an old woman testifies, saying:
“Twenty-five Piasters my father would give me on the weekends! Beirut was another place… Now I don’t even recognize it” She spoke in soft-spoken Arabic. “Ten Piasters for one Mankouche, and another ten for RC” RC being what we know today as Pepsi. “I would take a taxi from Bkenaya to Jal el Dib for only 25 Piasters and spend the day watching movies at the Acropole! Oh the times, how’ve they’ve changed” And they have.
Old Lebanon, the Lebanon these people knew, was safe; as is this village. They live as if in another era, they’ve created their own time machine, and have traveled back the years to live as they once have. To live as they have known, in this sanctuary of a village.
Cars unlocked, doors unlocked and wide open. Little boys and girls playing between the houses, those same boys and girls that will grow up, fall in love, get married, and watch their own children play between the same houses. The sun’s burning heat balanced by the treetop’s shade. Every drop of ice cream falling from its cone vaporizes as it touches the sizzling floor. The closely-knit buildings give leeway for the neighbors to converse from balcony to balcony.
ReplyDeleteI walk into the house and see my family'. The wrinkled faces of my grandparents, the fresh joyful faces of my baby cousins, the loving faces of my uncles, and the neighbors’ faces. The neighbors are the people that I’ve been seeing for years. The same faces that I have grown to love as I would love my own family. When a child falls down, all you can hear is the concerned pleas of everyone on the balconies. “Allah w smallah”, “esem el salib”, and phrases calling for the help of the saints and Virgin Mary. What you feel is tangible love.
When the sun is setting, a cool breeze takes over. Tranquility. Serenity. Peace of mind. The only sound you can hear is the bubbling of the fruit tainted and tasteful water that lays at the bottom of the nargile tube. You relax, and watch the smoke from the nargile rise and disperse until it disappears. You slowly give in to the stillness of your surroundings.
Lying in the center of the boisterous village of Amioun, my neighborhood is one of a kind. From the very moment that you get into my neighborhood, you can see that it has a little bit of everything. A football playground where children head to on the weekends, a few supermarkets on both sides of the road, and a sports shop are only a few aspects that decorate my neighborhood. The recently revived clock bangs every hour to remind the villagers of the time. Furthermore, my neighborhood is always buzzing with people dashing to the post office or to the pharmacy. However, we are still waiting for the initiation of the construction of the mall that is to be across my home. All in all, my neighborhood is the center of attraction of Amioun and even to the whole Koura district.
ReplyDeleteNo one can live alone. Neighborhood is part of our lifes either we like it or not. I get along my neighboors, they kind of raised me. However, my problem has nothing to do with my neighbors, but with the place that I live in. My building is in a very crowded street. There are all the shopping stores, and because I live in the first floor i can hear clearly all the noises. During the day, there is no chance to sleep or to rest a little by having a nap, because the beeping of the cars don't stop. These noises hunted us all the time. Another problem is the parking. I can't find a free space to park my car and if I was lucky to find one I should pay! We put coins in the machine but the annoying part is that it has a limitted time. If you ever forget to put a coin or you had exceeded the time allowed your car will be booked and you have to pay a fine. That doesn't end here. There is always traffic jams and now it is even worse because they are fixing the underground construction of the streets next to ours so the cars have to pass through the street where i live. If I have a plan or meeting I could never be on time, I am always late I could never predict how much time it would take, it could take 15, 30 minutes or even an hour to get nearby . Another negative point is that we are known of all the owners of the stores, so if something happens we feel that everyone is looking. They want to know what is going on so they can gossip. On the other hand there are some positive things. Everything is close to my house, the market, the hairstylist, the shopping stores, anything I need I can get it very easily without wasting time since I don't need to use my car. Although during the day I can't sleep but at night everything is very quite. If I need to go out at night, things get scary. The streets look like the ones in the horror movies, nothing and no one on the street. You can here the sound of your steps and whenever you talk you feel like everyone is listening since you hear echo. This is the case of a person living in an urban region.
ReplyDelete“Kis* Imaya**** ya wlad l alf ****** “ and a lot of other creative and colorful cussing words every time the ball goes over to the other side of the wall. The wall was a couple of meters high, no paint, no graffiti; just small holes that we have drilled through the cement blocks to sneak on the wicked witch living on the other side. Three walnut, lemon and fig trees from her side gave us some good shades to play in, while the rest of the playground concrete was a burning field of coal. The playground was in the middle of the neighborhood, once you hear that squeaky rusty steel gate open, it takes but a few seconds for all the kids to get there. A few meters downhill lays a warehouse for storing some goods. The warehouse is an atrocity of architect and engineering, a five year old with Lego bricks could have done better, with its oblique walls and cracked rooftop. Uphill from the playground three wide stretches of planting land, yet with no plants; a few wild trees (fig, apple, and berry trees) and waist-high grass all over. The grass bows to the grounds in many spots where we used to hide when playing hide and seek, and even vanishes where we dug holes in the ground to hide in. Last but not least, the road at the edge of our neighborhood, the road which leads you outside town, a road where I carry bits and pieces of my childhood every time I move out of the neighborhood.
ReplyDeleteI love my neighborhood. As a child of a university professor, I’ve grown up on university campuses, living among my mother’s colleagues. Since I was little, I thought that the job came with a degree of insanity. Especially if you live in a place concentrated with teachers from all over the globe. Alcoholics, poets, absent-minded mothers, scary children, people too tall or obese to fit through the lobby doors, orientalist enthusiasts, one-eyed adventurers from Alaska, the perfect family who never talks to anyone… I can’t suppress a smile when I witness it all. Every day I return back home at 5 o’clock from my classes. The group of neighbors is always strategically there, chatting lively, children running around, 4-year-old Bogdan trying to run over everyone with his new ATV, Hugo the adolescent dog whining for food and biting people’s legs… Pretending not to be a sociopath, I join the crowd for a mere two minutes to exercise small-talk and laugh at the cute baby. Then I slip away and prepare for an evening marked by a heated debate over the “role of noticing and language awareness” between monarchists and postmodern communists, which is always resolved by a few shots of vodka.
ReplyDeleteI grew up in a neighborhood known by "Hay Al-Amwat" (Neighborhood of the dead). Its name alone is enough to brighten the image of the kind of environment this neighborhood has. It is located between two old villages East of Saida - Majdelyoun and Abra. It consists of six houses, including ours, an old church, and two graveyards each for the residents of each of the two villages. It is not the kind of neighborhood where you observe children playing soccer on the streets and some people crossing by walking their pets or jogging. Unless it is a Sunday evening, silence dominated it. All you can hear is some light wind blowing through leaves of trees and the waving of bats’ wings. To me, this silence is a big advantage for it plays a major role in keeping us in calmed moods. Some people won’t be comfortable living in such a neighborhood for they think excessive quietness disturbing, but I love it.
ReplyDeleteI personally despise home developments where every house looks the same. In my town, every street is unique and different. All of the homes are different. I live in a seven floor building, across the street is a 19 story hotel and next to that is a six story center and so on and so forth. This uncoordinated and planned building growth leads to traffic congestion and crowding in some areas but it’s all good in Zalka! I would rather enjoy diversity of many people and houses than a matched, developmental structure. The streets are always filled with cars and school buses during the week days and it feels like all people are trying to get to the same crowded destination which is the Souks. Souk al Zalka is right across the street. People never get bored staring at the stores all day long. I could always notice from my balcony that people access the stores and exits without buying anything, it’s though they’re just spending time and not spending money. It’s not much of a haven to speak of when describing my neighborhood objectively, but there is something about it that made it mine and made my own house feels exceptional.
ReplyDeleteMy neighborhood was the quietest place ever. It was not the ordinary type of neighborhood, it wasn’t crowed, houses were far apart, and in some way it looked like a compound. Trees were planted all along the road some elevated, some short, some matured, and some miniature. Flowers were of all colors planted in front of each house. On sunny afternoons women would be picking some vine leaves for the Sunday meal. Along the way children were riding their bikes other playing football. Being part of village at the end of my neighbor there lived a family that owned some cows and goats they would let them out to run wild a little bit. On that street there was never a shop and till now it doesn’t have a shop. It has a gas station at its entrance. Also a piano teacher had a shop near it music was always rising from that place. All the children of my neighborhood would go to Mr. Fouad for piano lessons. My neighborhood has endless stories that make it one of a kind .
ReplyDeleteSo many things to talk about my village, and Describing everything about it will Fill the ocean. In brief, I can recognize my village by it's smell, the smell of the orange bloom and the dirt. I love it at all times of the day, in the morning I hear the rooster's echo from a far distance, I hear the sound of the saw cutting the trees and the men calling each other for work. In the afternoon when I walk on the road women call me for a cup of tea it's just amazing. One village one familly. At night, it's just me and the stars. A huge big dark sky winking at me and a moon so beautiful makes me wanna lay on the ground and keep watching all night long. My village is my magical exit to a fabulous place away from the city
ReplyDeletemy village is called Hakl Azime . it is located on the high mountains of lebanon . it has enormous trees, and the exotic plants. Even though the land is not that big , but the person may experience different smells . Sometimes it is the smell of the apple trees , sometimes it is the peach , and sometimes it is the smell of goats that recently passed by . Hakl Azime is like paradise with beautiful waterfalls and cold rivers streaming in the deep valley. it was said that a family of deers wondered in its field.
ReplyDelete