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Is it time to leave KU?

It takes another stupid act from KU to prompt me to return to blogging.
So here’s the story:
Last week I saw these fliers in Kaifan. I resisted the urge to voice my increasing dissatisfaction with the KU administration.


Two days later, I read this newspaper article that made me think things aren’t too bad yet. At least the administration will not support such offensive propaganda:

الجامعة تتجه لإحالة اتحاد الطلبة إلى التحقيق

But then again, over the long weekend, and with the beginning of the new year, the university disappoints me again with this:

الجامعة تتراجع: الاتحاد وزَّع نشرة الحجاب خارج الكليات

Now tell me, is it time to leave KU?

These slides run when you open the site for Kuwait University. I find them inspiring 🙂 What do my readers think? (Assuming I still have readers here after neglecting my blog for a long time now)

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A fourteen hour flight to D.C. I Slept for 8 hours, probably enabled by what the pharmacist at Boots suggested as sleep aid, but what I later researched to find as antidepressant. I might say the pharmacist was more informed than google. The drug helped me sleep for 8 hours, assisted no doubt by my business class seat, a last minute upgrade well worth the money spent. As an anti-depressant, however, it didn’t help at all. I woke up as depressed as I was before going to sleep. 

But back to my flight. After 8 hours of only slightly interrupted sleep, I watched in-flight entertainment, Bright Star, about John Keats’s affair with Fanny Brawne ending with his death with TB. I’m always taken by films on artists, the Romantics being a special old favorite of mine. And this one was well-made. Keats says poetry, if it doesn’t arrive as naturally as a tree then it’s not worth pursuing. I live in Kuwait where most of our trees don’t come out naturally, so maybe our poets are exempt from that rule. I’ll have to keep that in mind as I re-read Buthaina Al-Esa and Mais Al-Othman in preparation for my conference paper – still to be written.

I follow this with Notes of a Scandal on my newly acquired best friend iPod Touch – such a cool toy. Judi Dench is indeed brilliant as a black widow. I am now ranking her almost next to Meryl Streep, probably partly because I saw Streep perform live at Central Park and I am now possessed by her. The movie is a work of art, both brilliant in plot and captivating in cinematography. How do they do it? Bench is a vindictive lover. Women’s jealousy, especially when linked to loving another woman, is a most destructive weapon. 

KU renovating

They’re doing it again. Floor work. Renovating the exterior.
Meanwhile our classrooms are missing projector screens, computers, curtains, and sometimes even teachers. 🙂
Meanwhile our book orders are delayed because they have to bargain for cheaper prices.
Meanwhile we, in a department of 42 instructors, only have 2 TA’s, because the university is short on budget.
And meanwhile, inviting guest speakers is difficult because we don’t offer them enough financial incentive.

But it’s all in the tiles. Tiles are our way for a better education.

Thank you NICBM for making our university a better place.

This picture is taken from the net, not one of my own students. But the sentiment expressed speaks volumes.


When I started teaching at KU in 2000 I was furious at all these accusations I hear from my colleagues about the inadequacy of our students, their reluctance to even read, their inability to function as students. I saw these as false accusations as I was always blessed by students who impress me, not only in their academic performance, but also in their willingness to take part in activities outside of the classroom, and in their honest desire to be good citizens.

What happened between 2000 and 2010? Up to a year or two ago, I would still see cases of promising students, ones who hungrily wait for my announcement of starting a book club, ones who attend some of the cultural functions I occasionally announce here, and ones who start their own projects (or at least try) outside of the university.

I am now correcting students’ papers and drafts. Call it frustration at the deteriorating level I am noticing, but for once in my life, I consider my job pointless. What can one semester or two do to fix damage that has taken place over an average of twelve years?

Is it time to quit my job?

* Alqabas’s concern with the freedom of press, at this moment, sounds rather trivial to me. Freedom of press demands free thinkers, capable thinkers. I rarely see any of those any more. Freedom to [ex]press what?

** Maybe this post is just reflective of me. Maybe I’m just only seeing black now for personal reasons. Or maybe it really is time to blow up our educational system.

Film Week @ KU

The Department of English Language & Literature Presents
Film Week
East to West:
The Immigrant Experience

13-17 December 2009, 7 pm
Ceremonial Hall
(across from Al-Ahli Bank)
Khaldiya Campus, Kuwait University

13 Dec 2009
Man Push Cart
Directed by Ramin Bahrani
Pakistan/USA, 2005, 87 minutes
English and Urdu with English subtitles

14 Dec 2009
Brothers and Others
Directed by Nicolas Rossier
Documentary
USA, 2004, 54 minutes
English

15 Dec 2009
Inch-Allah Dimanche
Directed by Yamina Benguigui
Algeria/France, 2001, 98 minutes
French and Arabic with English subtitles

16 Dec 2009
Breaking Bread
Directed by Hamid Rahmanian
Documentary
Korea/USA, 2000, 54 minutes
English and Korean with English subtitles

Sir Alfred of Charles de Gaulle Airport
Directed by Hamid Rahmanian and Melissa Hibbard
Docmentary
Iran/USA, 2001, 29 minutes
English, French, and Farsi with English subtitles

17 Dec 2009
The Namesake
Directed by Mira Nair
India/USA, 2006, 122 minutes
English, French, Hindi, and Bengali with English subtitles

*free admission

update: click below to access brochure (includes synopsis of movies)
Film Week 2009

manji
A very bold book. Manji is funny, but I doubt if her sense of humor would be tolerated by most Muslims who read her book. Tough love. That’s what she calls it. Muslims (or Islam today) needs someone to shake them/it into waking up to the reality of today. She argues that Islam is in big trouble – basically stemming from her own inability to fully accept what she has been taught in school regarding a faith that deprives her from the right to ask questions. And it is our job as Muslims to rescue Islam.

“By writing this open letter,” Manji begins her book, “I’m not implying that other religions are problem-free. Hardly. The difference is, libraries abound in books about the trouble with Christianity. There’s no shortage of books about the trouble with Judaism. We Muslims have a lot of catching up to do in the dissent department. Whose permission are we waiting for?” (4)

She then talks about attending Saturday classes for Muslims in Toronto where “wherever classes congregated within the side expanse of that room, a partition would tag along. Worse was the partition between mind and soul. In my Saturday classes I learned that if you’re spiritual, you don’t think. If you think, you’re not spiritual.” (11)

Her biggest problem, it seems, is that Islam, or modern practices of Islam, not only lack any tolerance for other religions, but lack tolerance for any interpretations of the Quran that go against the general agreement reached years ago, and against the laws decreed by a few clergy who all belong to only a small portion of the Muslim world today.

In her books she calls for a reform of Islam, but she is not shy to argue that such reform can take on any issue, including issues of whether or not the Quran, as we have it today, is perfect (citing examples of its deliverance to the Prophet and the final accumulation of it under hasty circumstances).

To the Arab reader, her attack on modern Islam might not be the worst. She almost directly praises the Israeli government and people for their ability to create a country, though based on religion, but one that is more open for freedom of thought and interpretation, an open-mindedness that she sees to be the cause of the major problem with Islam today.

But as she says in the first few pages: “Is that a heart attack you’re having? Make it fast.” (2)

azazeelA wonderful book about a monk’s search for the truth and his gradual realization that truth is not as absolute as his religious teachings dictate. The novel begins with the narrator (this is a novel in the epistolary form. These journal entries are supposed to have been found years after they were written) wondering how to begin writing, a linear process, when beginnings are not as linear and straightforward as writing supposes them to be:

من أين أبدأ تدويني؟ .. البدايات متداخلةٌ ومحتشدةٌ برأسي. ولعل البدايات كما كان أستاذي القديم سوريانوس يقول، ما هي إلا محضُ أوهامٍ نعتقدها. فالبداية والنهاية، إنما تكونان فقط في الخط المستقيم. ولا خطوط مستقيمة إلا في أوهامنا. أو في الوريقات التي نسطر فيها ما نتوهَّمه. أما في الحياة وفي الكون كله، فكُّل شيء دائريٌّ يعود إلى ما منه بدأ، ويتداخلُ مع ما به اتصل. فليس ثمة بدايةٌ ولا نهايةٌ على الحقيقة، –15
Then he proceeds to question sin and punishment. Stressing the changeability of all things, our monk wonders how he is to be punished later (by God, the world, his conscious) for offenses he committed in an earlier part of his life. This is such a poststructural re-evaluation of the “I” that supposes stability and fixity, when the “I” is ever-changeable:
الحياةُ ظالمةٌ. فهي تمتدُّ بنا وتُلهينا، ثم تُذهلنا عنا وتغيِّرنا، حتى نصير كأننا غيرنا. هل كنتُ أنا الذي كنتُ في الإسكندرية قبل عشرين عاماً! كيف تحاسبني الحياة الآن، على أخطاء وخطايا اقترفتها أيامها؟ ولماذا سيعود الرَّبُّ بنا يوم الدينونة، ليحاسبنا على ما فعلناه قبل أمدٍ بعيد، وكأننا عشنا حياةً واحدةً لم نتبدَّل خلالها؟ –107
Among the many philosophical debates he puts forward is his questioning the concept of religion as a rational subject of discussion. Being a scientist, a physician, the narrator finds it difficult to accept a religion that is by its very nature dependant on faith, as such, logic should most definitely not enter into its evaluations. Earlier in the book, he voices their conflicts in his comment on another man’s inability to accept an irrational religion:
كان الرجل فيما بدا لي، لا يدرك أن الديانة لا شان لها بالعقل، وأن الإيمان لا يكون إيماناً، إلا إذا كان يناقض العقل والمنطق، وإلا فهو فكرٌ وفلسفة. –110
The title is by far the most interesting part of the book. Azazeel, Satan, is the inspiration behind which these words are written. By the end of the book, the narrator realizes that Satan is nothing but an inner voice that speaks his own repressed desires (not in any Freudian sense necessarily). By naming the book Azazeel, Satan, the author gives value to the words written only as they are the voice of the devil inside the narrator. The fact that the book was hidden from view reiterates the narrator’s own attempt throughout the book to hide his own Satanic voice. So is Yousef Zaidan arguing that the words in his novel are the voice of the devil? Or is he arguing that such hidden voices (of the devil in this case) are the only voices of not only reason, but life.
مَنْ أنت؟
ألا تعرفني، حقًا!
الطيفُ المخايلُ صار يتكلم.. كلامه أبهت صورته، وغيَّب عنها الملامح التي كانت تتبدَّل بين وجوهٍ شتى. لم أعرف بأيِّ كلامٍ، يجب أن أجاوبه. غير أنني لم أعد خائفاً، من حضوره حولي.
أنا لست حولك يا هيبا، أنا فيك
قَدَّرتُ أن الجنونَ انتزعني من عالمي المضطرب، فصرت أهذي. قلت لعلني الآن نائم، وما هذا إلا حلم عابر. نعم، هو حلمٌ عابرٌ سوف أفيق منه، ثم يصير ذكرى سرعان ما أنساها. لقد صرتُ قلقاً من كل ما حولي، والقلقُ يثير المخاوف.. لا بد أن أُهدِّئ قليلاً من قَلَقي.
أنت قلقٌ يا هيبا مما فيك. لأنك تعرف ما سوف يحدث في إفسوس، وتعرف أنك ستفقد مرتا، مثلما فقدت من قبل ما كان لك: حلمُ النبوغ في الطب، الأملُ في إدراك سرِّ الديانة، الغرامُ بأوكتافيا، الولعُ بهيباتيا، الاطمئنان بالغفلة، الإيمانُ بالخرافات.
كان الصوت يأتيني هذه المرة هامساً، واضح النبرات، ثم صارت ملامح الوجه، أبينَ وأظهر. كان يشبهني، وكان الصوتُ صوتي. هذا أنا آخر، غيري، محبوسٌ بداخلي.. –344
The novel is not only philosophical and religious debates. It is mostly a story of a monk who falls in love with 3 women. The first is a woman 5 years his senior who cares for him for 3 days and who he idealizes in his description. The second woman is Hypatia, the Greek philosopher whose lecture he attends once, and whose death he witnesses, this one is 20 years his senior and his love for her is an admiration for her genius. The third woman is Marta, 20 years younger than him, and a singer whose voice and beauty captivate him and forces the writing of these pages.
Hypatia

Hypatia


The book is one of the best I’ve read for a while. Maybe it’s all these questions it poses that intrigue me, but the story itself is just as beautiful, just as painful.
Read it if you get the chance.

Welcome to Kaifan

Kaifan welcomes students to the start of a new semester!!

Kaifan welcomes students to the start of a new semester!!

cage
Marital relationships are complex. Marriage is seen as a mean to bring two people together (or 2 or 3 or 4 for that matter). But that is only done by trapping the 2, 3, 4, individuals in a contract from which escape is almost impossible without injury. One decides to break free, and in that decision, whether intentionally or not, hurts the other caged bird. Wouldn’t it just be much better if the cage was never built?**

Often in my classes we debate issues of reason and passion. Plato is a dominant and domineering voice there. My classrooms, as all classrooms are, are a reflection of my positions in life, a reflection of how I see life. So we debate the validity of reason over passion. And we debate the insensitivity of promoting reason over passion. And then I come to my own personal life and find myself, in contradiction to what I preach in class, unable to find a position that supports passion as not necessarily less than reason, nor stick to reason that I, very often, find quite … unreasonable. So I choose the grey area. I choose to be unreasonably passionate and passionately reasonable. And in the process, I confuse. ***

* Remodelled from Maya Angelou

** Inspired by a very dear friend whose cage collapsed on her and is now forced to fly away from that cage. Freedom she values. But freedom she doesn’t want. And what do you do as a friend? Support her in her new-found freedom? Or help her get back to the comfort of the cage?

*** Not inspired by my attempt to start translating Spivak’s Critique of Postcolonial Reason. Let’s see how that goes.

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