Know Your Poptarts: Dana

Oh, Dana. This song "Bos Alaya Bos" first came out in 2006 when I was in Egypt. At the time I thought it was quite incongruous to have a lady dancing around in hot pink hotpants on the TV as muhagabas (veiled women) bought kushari and shwarma. This video introduces Dana, quite literally. The text at the beginning introduces the first girl without... plastic surgery. Then the lyrics...

Ana Dana (I'm Dana)
Ana Dan Dan (I'm Dan Dan - a nickname)

What do you expect from a song called "Look at me"? Naturally this isn't Dana's only song based on her name (She's not the only one, Haifa Wehbe has "Ana Haifa") Doudou being another cute nickname for Dana.

How cute. From the little girl voice to the silly costumes and poses, if Nancy Ajram is the zenith of Arab poptarts, Dana is pretty close to the nadir. But yet, what chutzpa! The lyrics include "You have to know who I am, everybody knows me, everybody is after me". The best part? How about "At your service, sir" [ay khadma ya basha] right before she writhes around in the black catsuit.

Her other videos are similar: in "Inta Min" her voice is even more childish and she mugs for a mirror and shows off her manicure, (naturally) gets caught in an indoor rain storm, and dances around a plastic surgery operating table. Dana is very proud of her lack of plastic surgery, which must explain the lack of clothes. In "Miya Miya" (100) she dresses as a sexy waitress, a sexy gas station attendant, and a sexy children's entertainer in a bee costume (no shit), gets engaged to three men with big shiny engagement rings, and leaves all three at the altar. Small children also dress up in her outfits from previous videos.

My harsh assessment of Dana might seem hypocritical, especially since I love Ruby. I'm fucking obsessed with "Mosh Hate'dar" right now [see below]. There are several differences: Ruby's voice does not make me want to shoot myself in the head. Ruby's songs are fun, danceable, and aren't all about her name. There's a chasm between doing fun, disposable pop well and horribly: these ladies illustrate that difference.

The Complete Idiot's Guide to Fucking Up a Country

I have to recommend a great book - Imperial Life in the Emerald City by Rajiv Chandrasekaran. It details the first year of the American occupation under Iraq, the "Emerald City" being the Green Zone around Saddam's Republican Palace where the Coalition Provisional Authority administered Iraq. Reading it, emotions veered from anger to outright shock. Where they trying to fail? I was completely against the invasion from the outset (writing my Junior Research Paper on how Iraq did not pose a threat and we should not invade in fall 2002 - apparently a midwestern high schooler has better sources than the CIA) but the glaring mistakes are so fucking egregious:

A skeleton staff was selected to run the Iraqi administration once in American hands. A man without tade experience ran the Trade Ministry. An engineer from the Army Corps of Engineers was put in charge of the Ministry of Transportation and Communication, the Ministry of Housing and Construction, Ministry of Irrigation, and Ministry of Electricity AND Ministry of Health. One man. Why? The planners assumed "Iraqi civil servants would return to work and ministries would run themselves" (32). YET, the CPA also decided on de-Ba'athification, effectively barring senoir civil servants, teachers, and most Iraqis who knew fucking anything about anything in Iraq.

The CPA decided to not only democratize Iraq but change the economy into a Chicago School free market wet dream. They wanted to privatize and dismantle central control similar to post-Soviet Eastern Europe. Leaving aside the contentious issue that selling off a nation's assets while occupying it is illegal, they also did not assign shit to this all-important convergence of neocon and neolib interests. The Germans had 8 thousand people work on the privitzation of East German state factories. The Americans assigned 3 people to this job in Iraq

I could go on, but fuck, there's just too much. If Iraq was to be Bush's jewel in the neocon crown why the fuck did he devote so little people to it? I don't buy the argument of some who supported the war, but now try to distance themselves from the burning carcass Iraq has become by claiming that if not for these mistakes it all would have gone swell. It was going to be horrible, but it could have been less horrible.

Check out the book if only for the surreal discriptions of life in the green zone: staffers chasing cooze and trying to fuck in any secluded space available, Halliburton hunting down and exterminating kitty kats with extreme prejudice, a man who, in order to get his site guarded, had to venture outside the Green Zone for a full-length mirror in which CPA men could look at the asses of the chicks they fucked. Christ on earth, it's almost unbelievable.

Of course, learning about the irreparable mistakes of the first year of occupation cannot change anything, But should you ever want to know how to really and truly fuck a country up, this is a great guide.

Ruby's all Classy and Shit

روبي - مشيت ورا إحساسي
Look at her - no belly showing, no shameless gyrations. Ruby - what happened? This is the latest single off her new album, and shares the same name, Misheet Wara Ihsasi (I Followed My Feelings). Ruby is reportedly trying to project a classier, covered up image. In the past, her racy videos have caused the Muslim Brotherhood to call for their ban in the Egyptian Parliament and been the subject of NPR reports and New York Times articles. The song is eh, not her best.

I actually really like the first single, Mosh Hate'dar (You Won't Be Able to). This one really emphasizes the classy: She's sitting! Not dancing! Covered up! Stringed instruments! Um... sitar!

But the song itself is great, very classic vibe like Fairouz or even (though naturally it does not approach) Um Kulsoum. Nice going Ruby!

But, for a minute, can we remember the glorious sexiness that was a Ruby video? Whether pantomining sex acts with a stationary bike, walking around Prague in a pink belly dancing ensemble, or, as here, invoking Ancient Egypt to display the sexy, she was truly fucking awesome:

Justificationista: Digital Camera

When need or desire dictate, I can justify any selfish impractical purchase. Despite having given up the Catholicism years ago, the Guilt continues, only in different incarnations. Instead of dirty thoughts about Ricky Martin (oh, 7th grade), I now feel guilty about the effects of my lifestyle and purchases. For example, the copious amounts spent on booze; fortunately this assuages guilt as it's consumed. I think the nation of Ireland has scientifically proven drink's short-term relief from the Guilt.

But there are many products, mostly bought merely for the pleasure they provide, that do not erase inhibitions, memories, OR guilt as well as alcohol. The gold belly ring I bought in February (allergic to all other metals) after the one I've had in there was lost (after 4 years of use) could not be justified. That ring was a shiny symbol of vanity, decorating a belly that never is (nor needs to be) exposed anyways. This article, which of course I remembered as I made the purchase, did not exactly ease my misgivings. Even without that, to spend that much money on a purposeless bauble. The ring now lives on my dresser, and the hole has grown back in. But seriously, I was getting much too old for a belly ring.

Now there's a whole list of shit I "must" buy before I go to Syria. One being a digital camera, because I must put photos of Syria up on facebook. Nevermind I brought one to Egypt and used it very infrequently, considering I was there for six months. Traveling through Syria alone, I did take picture upon picture, only to fall on my ass on stone steps in the old city on my last day, breaking the camera. The pictures of Syria are still intact on the memory card - I'm just too lazy to have actually uploaded them onto anything a year later.

But I want that digital camera. Digital because it reduces silver emissions from developing. Yah! Everything's digital, no mess, no environmental degradation... except batteries. Fuck. But I have to preserve the memories from such an unbelievable experience as Year in Syria! Looking back on these photos in the future will jog my mind. Hopefully by then I will be in a position of power. Perhaps with the bombs pointed at Damascus, I will look upon my (digital) albums... "but that's such a lovely church near Bab Toma! Oh, maybe we'll try diplomacy." "Yo Israel, look at me in '07 with all these smiling kids - you don't want to go to war with that. Assad, man, it's cool. See, here's me at the Umayyad Mosque. Now let's sign this bad boy peace agreement and eat some hummus." If Rumsfeld had taken nice photographs of Baghdad back in '84 maybe he would have thought twice about pushing invasion after all. One little selfish consumerist purchase (plus a supply of batteries) and perhaps I effect peace. Justified!

Plus, my American upbringing having supplied every real material need, I hunger only for the experiential, which cannot take place in a vacuum. My experiences must be shared, photographed, and blogged. Concerts must be camera-phoned or recorded. Moods must be reflected on myspace. Ephemeral inside jokes must be preserved on facebook quotes. It begs the question: If the experience is not captured, did it really happen?

Everyone Sucks at Arabic

I met with another woman who's going to Syria in the fall on a Fulbright. She covers the U.N. for al-Jazeera. Her Arabic is thus a trillion times better than mine, but she's going to Syria for straight language training. She wants to be able to do live reporting.

She didn't start Arabic until after college. Morocco, Middlebury, IFEAD in Damascus (I didn't get in), and School of Oriental and Asian Studies in London later and she's working for al-Jazeera. "Oh, I work in it but I'm not very good at Arabic."

Right.

It seems everyone who studies Arabic protests how crappy they are. In my case it is warranted, particularly with formal Arabic. I can shoot the shit in Arabic, I traveled using Arabic almost exclusively last time I was in Syria, but give me a page or two and read and I think "Shit that's long... I wonder if Ruby's new video is up on youtube." Start talking to me about subjects off my general repitoire and I will smile and nod, uncomprehending. So my own evaluation that my Arabic is shitty is quite apt.

Will I ever be fluent in Arabic? Two years in and it doesn't look promising. Of course, after a year in Syria going to school and living with a family I might feel differently. I miss French. I want to learn Spanish.

Time Travel Made Possible!

Oh, current and future scholars and students, though university bureaucracy seems like a paperwork and voicemail hydra, a labyrinth without David Bowie, or a brick wall painted with the blood of those who have smashed their heads against it, it can be mastered. I have done two supposedly impossible things at once - successfully navigated NYU bureaucracy and traveled through time. And how? Perserverence, grace, and NYU's insatiable hunger to have students with scholarships to point at.

This last year of school, I knew one thing: I wanted to go back to the Middle East. Syria was chosen for several reasons, chief among them cheapness. The goal became to have someone else pay for my going to Syria, with the fallback of fucking my loans and paying with my savings. I applied to two scholarship programs: NSEP Boren, which required me to still be a matriculated student, and Fulbright, which required me to have a B.A. No problem. If I got the former, I would just stay in school and spend senior year in Syria. If the latter, I would graduate a year early.

I got both, though I found out about NSEP Boren in early May, and Fulbright just a few weeks ago. So I had not graduated - again, no prob. I declined the Boren and put in to graduate at the end of the summer.

Problem. NYU's fall graduation is September 24th - after I need to be in Syria. Fulbright won't give me anything until they have final transcript stating that I have my B.A. in hand. Thursday of last week I made a few frantic emails and calls to the program director of Africa and the Middle East, the Dean's Office at my college, the registrar's office, and the advising office. The Dean was going to write a personal letter to Fulbright for me explaining the situation, because I was told back when I decided not to graduate in May that it would be, without a doubt, absolutely impossible to have a May graduation date after May.

"We can't go back in time," the advisor joked. Really?

They have gone back in time - for me. Friday apparently the dean, the registrar, and an advisor got together and decided to bend the laws of time and space and graduate me back in May 2007. I fucking rock. Happy graduation to me. Even without commencement, a speaker, a gown or tassle, I think I'll live.

It can be done! It can even be made to do the impossible. Though I think it helps if you win a national scholarship. Shit man, Fulbright is only free slurpees and a happy ending from fulfilling every my every need.

Shams... with English Subtitles

This was a massive hit in the winter but here it is now... with synchronized transliterated and translated subtitles! This video's full awesomeness is no longer partially obscured from the American people by language issues. And its dancey!

Douchebaggery! Thomas L. Friedman

In honor of Independence Day, a reminder that free speech extends to douchebags:
The incomparable Thomas Friedman in his Wednesday column found it necessary to comment on the recent attempted terror attacks in England.

Describing the chaos, two bombs, and "Allah," he queries the reader "Where was I? Baghdad? Kabul? Tel Aviv?" You know, scary places. "No, I was in England." Holy shit! Terrorism? In England? Impossible gov'ner! "But it could have been anywhere. The Middle East: now playing at a theatre new you."

The overwrought drama aside (and his inclusion of Kabul in the "Middle East") this doesn't even make sense. Terrorism is apparently a new, exported Middle Eastern thing, like the hookah bars popping up everywhere. We can easily find incidences of terrorism in England's history that don't have to do with Muslims, or even the Middle East- several involving a little organization called the IRA. When there's a Tamil Tiger attack in Sri Lanka, is that the Middle East? What about Marxist rebels in Nepal? If shit blows up anywhere in the world is that the Middle East playing?

God no, of course not. Friedman clears that up for us: only if Muslims are involved. Looking at several events in the past couple years and the disparate identities of the terrorists, their disparate aims and methods, yet their common espoused religion, he concludes that these Muslims are fucking crazy and no one in the Muslim world is condemning it. Why are these Muslims angry? They think their religion is right and are all pissed off about the prosperity of non-Muslims. "This creates a real dissonance and humiliation. How could this be? Who did this to us?" Variation on a theme, similar to Bernard Lewis, that "They hate us because of who were are, not what we do."

First of all, Juan Cole has already dealt with this: there are denunciations of terror from Muslims - important ones too. Second, every religion thinks it's right to the exclusion of all others. Third, why can't Muslims or Middle Easterners (cause it's all the same, right?) be pissed off about real political events or policy? For example, cutting off aid to the Palestinian people when they elect a government we don't like. Or maybe, the Iraq war.

Silly me, Thomas Friedman is right. Muslims are crazy motherfuckers who hate us for our freedom- I mean our prosperity/their poverty/our porn/the Crusades, and if not lovers of terrorism, then at least chill with it. Otherwise, Muslims would condemn it, and Thomas L. Friedman says they don't. And he wears the moustache of truth.

Mo' Syria

I was notified today that I get a three-month language training grant, in addition to the nine-month research grant. A true year in Syria - 12 glorious months, and at first I have no responsibilities other than chatting up strangers, learning better curse words than are currently at my disposal, scandelizing the unfortunate family I rent a room from, and going to class. I have to be in-country, at my first day of class within 90 days, which is a perfect timeline. Just enough time to finish my summer internship, go to a friend's wedding, and perhaps even throw a bone to the 'rents and go back to Michigan before taking off.

Things are going so well I can't believe it. I feel so incredibly lucky that this shit I put together haphazardly (job, graduating, scholarship) is all working out - and perfectly. Now all I have to do is get the UNFPA on board with my project (a task whose deadline has now been extended three months). And get the visa.

How exactly does this Fulbright work once I'm there? Does any one check up on my research? Guide me, mentor me, etc? What do I do with the research when I'm done? No one's actually explained these details to me- I guess I'll see.

Bitchy Government

Since I got the Fulbright and declined the Boren scholarship (the original scholarship I was planning to go to Syria on) the government is making me pay $162 back for the cost of the hotel in DC. I could have stayed with people in DC, but no, the government assured me, we'll pay for the hotel. Now that I've declined the Boren - I told them that the Fulbright was a distant possibility from the beginning - they're making me pay for a hotel they fucking made me stay in. They also never have to give me the thousands of dollars from the Boren. Whatever, $162 is worth it for the Fulbright, I'm sure. But it does seem a little petulant, doesn't it?