something_s we make
I just can’t seem to get enough of that moment in which I am acutely aware of my ignorance and, simultaneously, of the certainty that I am just about to find out!
Who needs travel guide books when these streets and their smells, colors, and their people are the best teachers?
Even though Arabic is moving up there considerably fast, French is still my absolute favorite language ever. As in – jusqu’à la fin des temps!
After having walked these streets with my very own headscarf around my face and my very own man by my side, I ask: what makes me feel valued, and how about you?
Is tourism not just the widely accepted and commercialized expression for exploitive dependency?
The sun makes the earth redder, the skies bluer, and us just that smidgen more alive.
Just like the high tide, we are only here to visit, never to stay, and never by our own choosing.
If grandpas are the only people who teach the young ones how to play chess, what do those ones do who have none?
After the loud and eager Friday prayers sung from all Minarets of the city, I heard the most eloquent silence ever.
What does Going Home really mean, and why are my answers so countlessly many?