tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84394352024-03-14T02:14:49.514-04:00KhadijaTeriEnter these enchanted woods,
You who dare.KhadijaTerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01279047119702679252noreply@blogger.comBlogger1503125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439435.post-55765352535163351772023-10-02T23:07:00.001-04:002023-10-02T23:07:30.788-04:00The 1 Million Mark<p><span style="font-family: arial;">My blog has crossed the 1 million mark. As of today there have been <b>1,045,278 </b>views. I haven't posted much on my blog lately, but I pop in to check on things and I always make note of the site stats. The recent tragic floods in Derna brought a lot of readers to my site - just over twenty thousand visitors which was quite a jump. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">For me, writing is therapeutic. I find it calming to stop my busy life and sit in front of the keyboard to put down my thoughts and ideas, or share a story or experience. It helps me put life into perspective. But life these days has been filled with work and family. There hasn't been much time to gather my thoughts. I'm going to work on making time. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I have always wondered how I would feel when I had reached a million visitors. It somehow seems like a million would be the magic number, but in a way it feels like a hollow victory. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I have a lot of books stacked up that need to be added to my <a href="http://khadijateri.blogspot.com/p/books-libya.html" target="_blank">Books Page</a>...... I'll get to them... I promise!</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeALjATzA65F9wnMZQMU7q6Hls6FT1HS0NDhrJUQr0LacFHEz6rz4M2IjoSg3hkb-yMmHHX6jvTQa6xrfawMVLouQ6hNafnWnJeBbzgH7MulbtUhbMfA_LUJabkelTLc1kLOMqkE55fjRLpug329FjMEY7YLVGNZqRIpqNL63RFmbjXg6sRNJGkQ/s1024/celebrate.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="312" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeALjATzA65F9wnMZQMU7q6Hls6FT1HS0NDhrJUQr0LacFHEz6rz4M2IjoSg3hkb-yMmHHX6jvTQa6xrfawMVLouQ6hNafnWnJeBbzgH7MulbtUhbMfA_LUJabkelTLc1kLOMqkE55fjRLpug329FjMEY7YLVGNZqRIpqNL63RFmbjXg6sRNJGkQ/w531-h312/celebrate.jpeg" width="531" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>KhadijaTerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01279047119702679252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439435.post-4467278854292662142023-04-22T22:20:00.004-04:002023-04-22T22:20:27.638-04:00Happy Eid!<p><span style="font-family: arial;">Another Ramadan has come and gone. It flew by so quickly. Where does the time go? In the United States we began our Eid celebrations on Friday, but Libya as usual was divided, with part of the population celebrating Friday and the others on Saturday. The sides will never agree on anything. </span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Eid Mubarak to all who celebrate, whenever you celebrate!</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqvSx1tCXVG5KhLh-3IdBeU3zQAcveQrkcfTW0YmG8L85WOrYGA8G3OmByofWLdF4gtBS9r7n6eDdxgnkRHxi9VoAjxR-ORo38MrLrRRVLuCC8cnM8nokXAddohQofPYwB-hVg-TLgIv5402u-iChE2uuxf1RSd9umwla35zNQ60dHoiMn14w/s236/stamp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="236" data-original-width="182" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqvSx1tCXVG5KhLh-3IdBeU3zQAcveQrkcfTW0YmG8L85WOrYGA8G3OmByofWLdF4gtBS9r7n6eDdxgnkRHxi9VoAjxR-ORo38MrLrRRVLuCC8cnM8nokXAddohQofPYwB-hVg-TLgIv5402u-iChE2uuxf1RSd9umwla35zNQ60dHoiMn14w/s1600/stamp.jpg" width="182" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p>KhadijaTerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01279047119702679252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439435.post-18571853629382933372022-05-12T23:54:00.000-04:002022-05-12T23:54:17.906-04:00Trauma at the Gas Station - and it's not the price of gas. <p> Some experiences leave a lasting impression on you, especially if there is trauma involved. On May 12, 2011, I experienced something that would change my life forever... or maybe forever - I really can't predict the future. Since that fateful day I have dreaded going anywhere near a gas station. I dream of buying an electric vehicle, so I never have to visit a gas station again, but unfortunately that isn't in my budget yet. </p><p>I watch the lights on the dashboard of my car as the digital display counts the miles left until the car's gas tank is empty. I usually try to make sure I don't go to the gas station alone. I also go only to the same two gas stations that are nearby. If I am travelling anywhere that requires that I go to a different gas station my anxiety level rises and I break out in a sweat, my heart pounding. I will try to eke out every drop of fuel before I finally give in and go to the gas station. There have been a few times when I have had to coast up to the gas pump as I rode out the last fumes. </p><p>I'm sure you are wondering what could possibly have caused this everlasting trauma. You'll find the story here: <b><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="http://khadijateri.blogspot.com/p/may-2011.html#:~:text=Thursday%2C%20May%2012th%2C%202011" target="_blank">May 12, 2011</a></span></b>. </p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>NBC news also had an article in June of that year: <a href="https://www.nbcnews.com/id/wbna43247644" target="_blank">Associated Press article by Diaa Hadid</a></li></ul><p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439435.post-50249770052689273132022-04-05T22:43:00.000-04:002022-04-05T22:43:28.237-04:00Ramadan - Half Here, Half There<p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Another Ramadan has come. It's my forty-first year of fasting. This year almost half of my family are in Libya and the other half in the US. I find myself wondering if we will ever be together all at once again. It's unlikely to happen.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">After two years of pandemic and part-time work, I'm finally back to full-time work. Actually, it's more than full time as I'm working on the weekends too. This month I have one day off - Easter Sunday. But I'm happy to be working because sitting around is depressing. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I'm not doing a whole lot of cooking this year. I have no time. I bought a pan of lasagna from the frozen food section of the supermarket. Jenna looked at me and said, 'Really mom? You aren't going to make it yourself?' ... I have no time. It will be fine.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Of course, I am making Libyan soup, but I make enough to last two days - the second day it always tastes better. There's a recipe here: <a href="http://libyanfood.blogspot.com/2011/08/libyan-soup-sharba-libiya.html" target="_blank"><b>Libyan Soup (Sharba Libyia)</b></a> It says 2 tablespoons of tomato paste, but in Libya they use double concentrate, so if you don't have that you should double the amount.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">For information about Ramadan in Libya, please visit: <a href="http://khadijateri.blogspot.com/2008/09/ramadan-in-libya.html" target="_blank"><b>Ramadan in Libya</b></a></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Happy Ramadan! Ramadan Mubarak!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj49eAFBBzfXaYepWcrP46oMGa8aTsxK4r9Ieklk42Q_ojR-G2A2hDArwzfD61TCdie6mWQMCLwZDodxdoZxw7FuEMlfEkd10busfZr-AMSWXub5EWI_deXSmpb8ujS5eeIojdIT1oHV6y3QtG_IAKQUzaXD1YL7dR7BmE8GFeJ0nFKXTXNdvA/s834/ramadan.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="834" height="368" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj49eAFBBzfXaYepWcrP46oMGa8aTsxK4r9Ieklk42Q_ojR-G2A2hDArwzfD61TCdie6mWQMCLwZDodxdoZxw7FuEMlfEkd10busfZr-AMSWXub5EWI_deXSmpb8ujS5eeIojdIT1oHV6y3QtG_IAKQUzaXD1YL7dR7BmE8GFeJ0nFKXTXNdvA/w640-h368/ramadan.PNG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439435.post-40931859568277244232021-12-20T14:08:00.002-05:002021-12-20T14:08:25.403-05:00Libyan Election Countdown.... <p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg847kWCgCSYLhiY9Obby5si60S33hDG-qrpM9sChtj3pD1jY--s9ZF0NwFGMEe_lKfCZ_2_v9huM4SybQQeOy_oHCWgiHlWIYm8afA6CDRFZtR8Uj_gL5TRyZ3nvye72de309reM-GGdHnQKob4YqtJN79mcG3HSceUKC-fI6wLOg13QNfVjw=s504" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="288" data-original-width="504" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg847kWCgCSYLhiY9Obby5si60S33hDG-qrpM9sChtj3pD1jY--s9ZF0NwFGMEe_lKfCZ_2_v9huM4SybQQeOy_oHCWgiHlWIYm8afA6CDRFZtR8Uj_gL5TRyZ3nvye72de309reM-GGdHnQKob4YqtJN79mcG3HSceUKC-fI6wLOg13QNfVjw=w400-h229" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Elections are just around the corner in Libya – just days
away! Or are they? People speculate whether they will happen on time, or be
delayed, or possibly not happen at all. Personally, I am not sure what to think
anymore. Some people I spoke to said they never bothered to register to vote.
They didn’t think it would make a difference. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">There are plenty of candidates, but none of them seem to
have any particular platform.<a href="https://www.africanews.com/2021/11/24/98-candidates-register-for-libya-s-presidential-poll//" target="_blank"> Initially there were 98 candidates</a>, but the
number has dwindled to <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2021_Libyan_presidential_election" target="_blank">thirteen, maybe fourteen</a>, the last time I checked. There
hasn’t been much in the way of campaigning. Are there any rules? Some on the
list of candidates look like the who’s who of corruption and war criminals.
There are also two women running, one’s an activist and the other a political science
researcher. Most are running as independents. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">If all goes according to plan, the first round of the
election process will be on December 24<sup>th</sup>. If none of the candidates achieve the simple majority
of 50 percent or more, then a second round will take place a month later on
January 24<sup>th</sup>. The winner will hold the presidential seat for a fun-filled, five-year term. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>KhadijaTerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01279047119702679252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439435.post-89011771732111482422021-10-12T15:03:00.002-04:002021-10-12T15:03:24.901-04:00Have you read any good books lately?<p><span style="font-family: arial;">I've been sorting through my shelves and put together my books about Libya. They're by Libyans, by and about people who have passed through, some by academics and journalists and others by regular every-day folks. There are stories, poetry, essays, articles, history, culture, fact and fiction. Over the years my collection has grown and has become quite a large stack that continues to increase in size. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I have decided to make a page for them on my site. You can find it here: <a href="http://khadijateri.blogspot.com/p/books-libya.html" target="_blank"><b>Libya: Books</b></a></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5mXBmoQJn6-3B5uISdGZ1npRtIGIW-CU8ErCrqTjBBd3-bLrU6klZlH9hnYf81UuB1thocKkAqdEHqkp0983PEKhNmSg3yyHeZcm9OYGiC5Wj6y37eg5STxh1n62h068sLm1Gjw/s512/books.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="512" data-original-width="512" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5mXBmoQJn6-3B5uISdGZ1npRtIGIW-CU8ErCrqTjBBd3-bLrU6klZlH9hnYf81UuB1thocKkAqdEHqkp0983PEKhNmSg3yyHeZcm9OYGiC5Wj6y37eg5STxh1n62h068sLm1Gjw/w400-h400/books.png" width="400" /></a></div>KhadijaTerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01279047119702679252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439435.post-16431560577686915542021-03-08T00:24:00.004-05:002021-04-29T01:07:32.736-04:00Do you want to learn how to speak Libyan Arabic?<span style="font-family: arial;">After living in Libya for twenty-six years you would think my Arabic would be perfect, but it is far, far, far from that. I do get my point across and understand most things. Learning to speak Arabic was difficult, partly because in Libya rarely anyone will correct your mistakes - they will laugh at you though!! And to top that off people would speak to me in baby talk or they'd throw in Italian words like <i>bambino</i> (baby) and<i> mangiare </i>(eat). Of course, I would copy what I heard so I was throwing in the Italian and baby talk. </span><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">When I spoke with my husband we would always speak to each other in English. One day he heard me having a conversation with his sister. He asked her <b>"Why are you speaking to her that way?? She isn't a baby!"</b> My sister-in-law said she thought it sounded cute. Needless to say, he wasn't very happy with his sister, but thankfully he had discovered this before it got way out of hand. I spent most of my time in the company of women so I had problems with masculine and feminine. I was used to speaking with women in the feminine, so I would address everyone in the feminine. This didn't always go over very well with men. I would struggle to correct myself. </span><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">I realized my Arabic was improving when I was finally able to understand jokes and to tell jokes. And I could understand my father-in-law's subtle sarcastic sense of humor. Once my mother-in-law asked him <b>"Hajj, can you buy two bags of flour?"</b> and he took a sip of his tea and a long drag on his cigarette and replied <b>"Do I look like I'm wearing my coat?"</b> He always made me laugh. <br /></span><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">Libyans learn Egyptian Arabic from watching old Egyptian movies and programs on TV. They address Egyptians using their dialect, so Egyptians in Libya don't bother learning Libyan Arabic. Unfortunately, I never managed to understand Egyptian Arabic. Once an Egyptian tailor opened up a shop in our neighborhood. I decided I wanted to have something sewn with some fabric that I had stashed away. I went in the shop, but I couldn't understand his Egyptian Arabic and he couldn't understand my broken Libyan Arabic. In the end, I had to go home and bring my sister-in-law to help. I told her (in broken Libyan Arabic) what I wanted and she told the man using Egyptian Arabic. Back and forth until we were able to come to an understanding of what I wanted him to do. </span></div><div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">Recently a friend sent me some online lessons for learning Libyan Arabic. It's really nice to see this as most Arabic courses are either Egyptian or Levantine dialects. The first thirteen lessons are free, but then you have to pay to do the rest - there are <b>over 150 lessons</b>. The rest of the course is a bargain. <b>For only $25 <span style="color: #cc0000;">(update: the price is $10 now)</span></b> you get access to all the videos and audio files and there is a PDF of each lesson. </span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">If you are interested in learning Libyan Arabic, you can find the sample files and information for the course here: <b><a href="https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLaqS7ytllAKot0P8G4Pn9Wzp6aPD6hecu" target="_blank">Free Libyan Arabic by Adel Sample Lessons. </a></b></span></div></div></div></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><div style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000;">UPDATE:</span> </b>After posting this article I received a comment from Adel:</span></div><div style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><b></b></span></span></div><blockquote><div style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><b>Thank you sooo much Khadija! We love your blog and have lowered the price for the whole course of 160+ videos and PDF's to Only $10 :) Whatever your reason to learn Arabic is, this simplified approach will assist you. Just a few minutes of study a day, and you will surprise yourself. Try these free lessons today to find out!</b></span></span></div><span style="color: #0b5394;"><b><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify;">You will have access to download all the course videos, PDF's, audio files, and can view them just online as well. Thank you for your support!</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify;">Adel</span></b></span></blockquote></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">I will also add this to my <a href="http://khadijateri.blogspot.com/p/link-list.html" target="_blank"><b>Link List</b></a>. </span></div><div><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: arial;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000;">ANOTHER UPDATE:</span></b> There is a newly created mobile app in the Google Play App store: <a href="https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.libyan_arabic_dictionary" target="_blank"><b>Libyan Arabic Learner's Dictionary and Quiz</b></a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><a href="https://www.importanceoflanguages.com/arabic-dialects/" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="529" data-original-width="699" height="365" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQyHARmOnBecI0xvqQJghfhptD-rAlyTHU4UK4BAUKnNTkWyIM0SJVfWiXGTb5VUt4bIs9QI0yr3yHCNILrVJxop2j9Dit1Czs0uTBGvDabHXSyIyNi28bE1_3I3ZN7H0t_G4Arg/w600-h365/Arabic-Language-Dialect-Map.png" width="600" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.importanceoflanguages.com/arabic-dialects/" target="_blank">World Arabic Language Dialects</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div>KhadijaTerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01279047119702679252noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439435.post-37821760164459070462021-01-28T01:08:00.003-05:002021-01-28T01:11:14.657-05:00My Opinion Hasn't Changed<p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Phew! The last four years have been interesting to say the least, but I kind of predicted this in November of 2016 in my post titled: <span style="background-color: white;"><a href="https://khadijateri.blogspot.com/2016/11/not-enough-negative-adjectives-or.html" target="_blank">Not Enough Negative Adjectives or Expletives</a> </span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14.85px; text-align: justify;"></span><span style="background-color: white;">where I wrote: </span></span></p><p></p><blockquote style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #741b47;"><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-weight: bold; text-align: justify;">"</span><span style="background-color: white; text-align: justify;"><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 14.85px;"><b>I've always felt that the president should be someone you looked up to. Someone dignified. Someone, that if you invited them to your home, would be considered an honored guest. Is Trump that person? Not for me. I don't think I'd even want him out in my backyard with the dog." </b></span></span></span></span></blockquote><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I still feel that way, maybe even more than before. The last four years have been such an embarrassing disappointment, culminating in an attempted coup, lives lost and probably much more to come if today's news reports come true. - this from the New York Times: <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2021/01/27/us/politics/homeland-security-threat.html" target="_blank">Extremists Emboldened by Capitol Attack Pose Rising Threat, Homeland Security Says</a> and from the Guardian: <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2021/jan/27/us-terrorism-bulletin-homeland-security-joe-biden" target="_blank">National terrorism bulletin suggests attack may embolden extremists and set the stage for additional attacks</a></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Having lived in a country ruled by a dictator, gone through a revolution and suffered from the lasting effects of the war - even though the last few years I haven't been in Libya, my family, friends and heart and soul were there. Honestly, I can say that I don't think I will ever fully recover from all of that. The last few anxiety filled weeks have been frightening, triggering PTSD and nightmares (when I was finally able to fall asleep). </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">What is next? There is a new president - one that I would definitely invite to my home as an honored guest. Not likely to happen of course. We will all watch and wait to see how things go. Meanwhile, I'll keep praying - for calm, for peace, for safety. </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX_J5XVSaV3WQAEq0KPCL893j6qCjqrvOK06hwL01jGj9-ZerhZqojbF7MntJnrZF8E6Y8SUHf8tDyBynVIBT-t48QfLK-vybPvZz5HtCEWLyuKRI9u6UKOvNRTfcWMKkfxyYZMQ/s880/peace.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="573" data-original-width="880" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX_J5XVSaV3WQAEq0KPCL893j6qCjqrvOK06hwL01jGj9-ZerhZqojbF7MntJnrZF8E6Y8SUHf8tDyBynVIBT-t48QfLK-vybPvZz5HtCEWLyuKRI9u6UKOvNRTfcWMKkfxyYZMQ/w381-h248/peace.jpg" width="381" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p></p><p><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></p>KhadijaTerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01279047119702679252noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439435.post-12532322675400212892020-07-26T02:30:00.002-04:002020-07-26T02:39:44.098-04:00I've got no time for the pandemic blues<div style="text-align: justify;">I've been quietly hanging in here, staying mostly at home and wearing a mask and taking all precautions when I go out into the world. Just as things seemed to be looking up everything was turned upside down. My work is on hold until there is an improvement in the situation. Life seems to have slowed down to a crawl. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">For a while they had closed all of the beaches. It didn't make much sense because the parks were still open - what is the difference? They are both open spaces. I missed going in the evening to watch the water, birds, families, and most of all the sunset. Finally, after what seemed like a very long time, the beaches were reopened. Now, weather and time permitting, we head for the beach in the evening to watch the sun set. Of course we make sure to maintain social distancing and wear our masks when we're in the parking area and as we walk along the path to the beach. Once we have settled ourselves a good distance from any of the other families, off come the masks and we breathe in the fresh air. We are so blessed to have the beach nearby. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Lately there have been scattered showers most evenings. Sometimes we go anyway and get rained on. As long as there isn't thunder and lightning we stay. The rain is usually over in a few minutes. This week we were treated to a rainbow followed by a gorgeous sunset. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyxOd8kkJ7mI-fuTjX3nxFwK6_6uvGwhDfcXsEATL58PkJOqPQuGaapxsHuE6HF7hBAFNkQRWATqUU' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The pandemic has given me time to count blessings and I realize that life has not been all bad. The highlight of the summer has been Ibrahim's graduation. He has another year of an extended transition (a skills and training program) after which he will get his diploma, but he walked in the ceremony this year. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1638" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjtCw0CDFlkI2MYBGD8i-GVlcUGPFMrEmaR9qEgAeG1qdR5c2tBHkZvh-S0k6ssqTer0qHJuGHtr44Mz7M7LY0LV-hKbK_UIgdkiTeqdyQ_vBKj05kOZfNyqRbrtJGq1ISLBMe7w/w319-h400/graduation2.jpg" style="text-align: left;" width="319" /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I'm so proud of Ibrahim. This summer he is working on a project for an internship program. It's keeping us both focused on something positive. We don't know what tomorrow will bring, but we are thankful for what we have and hope for our health and safety, the end of the pandemic, and a better future. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJBDd6rLqrlDp6Wo39ORgG2I9q0sR6vEQqYlUBUq9LOqPTJXlJTvcVq6KyhdLUbavwT1PN2IUBjhj4cLy3JHX_Zm4ihg_KtVk8i1WbEz4i2Frs3h30z2xrsxmKWGzKCPFTnm_EGA/w300-h400/graduation.jpeg" width="300" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Elhamdulilah!</div><div><br /></div></div>KhadijaTerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01279047119702679252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439435.post-15445592216655988412020-03-04T16:59:00.001-05:002020-03-04T17:14:57.587-05:00Added a Link about Libyan History<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I came across a Libyan themed blog recently. It's been around since September 2018, but for some reason I missed it. The blog titled <a href="https://libyacolonialhistory.wordpress.com/" target="_blank"><b>The Colonial History of Libya</b></a> is described as:</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJCKrWxlaF6ZrbtJwqT88capoZsGQ1Nl6BmPrOw0jd9ygBC746TLltEzxcTBgvh7EobYWQAw7qkGO4w5aZ_5wB25_ISyA35J1E-wCndvg96jNELVkEX4Q0lwItPmCYF2LJyvzdkw/s1600/historyblog.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img alt="The Colonial History of Libya blog: https://libyacolonialhistory.wordpress.com/" border="0" data-original-height="783" data-original-width="1270" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJCKrWxlaF6ZrbtJwqT88capoZsGQ1Nl6BmPrOw0jd9ygBC746TLltEzxcTBgvh7EobYWQAw7qkGO4w5aZ_5wB25_ISyA35J1E-wCndvg96jNELVkEX4Q0lwItPmCYF2LJyvzdkw/s400/historyblog.png" title="" width="400" /></a><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"Libya’s colonial experience was not typical. As one historian posits: “The Ottoman influence in the province in the first two decades of the twentieth century was unusually strong; the Italian colonisation of the province was unusually brutal; the resistance was unusually fierce, and its failure unusually devastating”.<br /><br />Between 1911 when colonial rule began, and 1951 when an independent Libya was established, more than one million Libyans perished, many of them in concentration camps established by the Italian colonial rulers.<br /><br />The purpose of this blog is to document the crimes perpetrated by the Italian colonial forces against the Libyan population."</span></i><div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You can find it here: <a href="https://libyacolonialhistory.wordpress.com/" target="_blank"><b>The Colonial History of Libya </b></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have also added it to my <a href="http://khadijateri.blogspot.com/p/link-list.html" target="_blank"><b>Link List</b></a>. </span></div>
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KhadijaTerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01279047119702679252noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439435.post-1862298336142191432020-01-29T02:38:00.001-05:002020-01-29T02:38:17.110-05:00Situation in Libya: January 2020<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8dpf9caiZn9f-I-N2g7vRP2D_Xu-L0Apj7c5K_8pqQSIlIeycpLU5PA_SiBksFiYW47duJBFcg114kuAL3ZZf12mUEbYXaA-YLEzvXtR5jTU52B_B63ZCM2XpHJb0zaHJjthyphenhyphennQ/s1600/dontlosehope.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="441" data-original-width="488" height="361" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8dpf9caiZn9f-I-N2g7vRP2D_Xu-L0Apj7c5K_8pqQSIlIeycpLU5PA_SiBksFiYW47duJBFcg114kuAL3ZZf12mUEbYXaA-YLEzvXtR5jTU52B_B63ZCM2XpHJb0zaHJjthyphenhyphennQ/s400/dontlosehope.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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KhadijaTerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01279047119702679252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439435.post-24309409516604135212019-10-04T19:46:00.001-04:002019-10-04T19:46:44.555-04:00Need to update<p dir="ltr">I haven't posted to my blog in a very long time. Hopefully I'll be able to get a post together soon. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Watch this space.....</p>
KhadijaTerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01279047119702679252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439435.post-65921901893055594082019-05-12T21:53:00.004-04:002019-05-12T21:53:49.830-04:00Wishes for a Peaceful Ramadan<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Wishing all my friends, family and those who read my blog a safe and peaceful Ramadan. </div>
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KhadijaTerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01279047119702679252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439435.post-49587301073743018052018-12-27T11:34:00.001-05:002018-12-27T12:38:23.115-05:00Is it really the end of another year?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Another year has gone by. It's hard to believe that it is December again. Here is a bit of a synopsis for this year and some of my hopes/dreams/plans for the future.</div>
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Do I have any plans for 2019? It's hard to plan anything, but I have hopes and dreams. Hopefully I will see things sorted out in Libya (although I'm not holding my breath!). The problems in Libya have not only divided the country, they have divided my family. I'm here in Florida with four of my children while my husband is in Libya with our other two children. They are mostly grown up now! I dream of a time that we can all be together in one place again. </div>
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Meanwhile, I am here in Florida working a few jobs to keep myself afloat and doing some volunteer work when I can fit it in my schedule. I'm teaching English and doing an occasional workshop for the literacy tutors at the library. Additionally, I do some private tutoring, mostly IELTS preparation. Also, I'm doing a bit of writing and editing. This year I had a few trips for my inspection's work; a trip to Mexico City, I went twice to California, a trip to Honolulu, Hawaii, two trips to Ft. Lauderdale and a trip to Miami. I've also been doing some work with the exam center at the local college. </div>
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I'm still volunteering with my city's <a href="https://www.facebook.com/SeminoleCERT/" target="_blank"><b>Community Emergency Response Team (CERT)</b></a>, but not as much as I would like - too often the times conflict with my work schedule, and of course, work comes first. One fun thing that is happening currently is that I was asked if I would display my pin and brooch collection at my local library. I spent a morning setting up the display which will be there until February. </div>
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Another thing that I did this year was participate in an interview for a blog that is written by a Canadian/Swiss woman who is married to a Libyan. She is living with her family in Canada now, but lived in Tripoli in the past. The interview is on the blog, <a href="https://cafecaterpillar.blog/2018/07/06/khadija/" target="_blank"><b>Dear Sister: Where diversity meets solidarity - Khadija</b></a>. Don't just stop at my interview - the blog is full of interesting stories of women's lives and the experiences of the blog's writer.</div>
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More writing - both personal and work related. I am considering expanding my <a href="http://first-impress-them.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">editing business</a>, adding more services and doing more local work. More work related plans are to attend some literacy and teaching conferences and workshops this year. </div>
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Personal plans for the next year: I'm going to focus on my health - eat better and find ways to reduce stress. Most importantly, I pray that my family will be all together in one place. </div>
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I'm counting my blessings. Even though it has been a stressful year, there are many many positive things that have happened. </div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Wishing all my readers a year full of blessings. </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Happy New Year!</span></b></div>
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KhadijaTerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01279047119702679252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439435.post-74557751456906408822018-10-21T12:44:00.002-04:002018-10-21T12:44:18.372-04:00Nearly a year has gone by<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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It's been almost a year since my mother passed away (Oct 24th). A lot has happened this year - most of it was stressful. There have been so many details to take care of and my mother's estate is still being sorted out. </div>
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My mother had been secretive about what her assets were and she wasn't very organized either. My sister and I had to dig through tons of papers trying to find out exactly what was there. After we would think he had found it all something else would pop up. Recently, nearly a year after my mother's death, a check came in the mail from a stock we had never found any documentation for at all... so back to trying to figure that out. </div>
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My mom's house was also a big issue. According to the will it was to be shared by my sisters and myself. It was decided that we'd sell it. We had an appraisal done, but the amount given was ridiculously over the market value. I knew that we would never get the amount quoted because the house needed so many repairs. The house is over 40 years old and had almost no updating done. When I suggested to my sisters that the amount quoted was inflated they scoffed and said that we'd get that and maybe more. I'd been watching the market in the area for quite some time and knew that they were dreaming. </div>
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Adding to the task of deciding how to go about selling the house was the fact that my son wanted to buy it, but one of my sisters also was interested. We needed to come up with a fair price for the house. My son's interest was sentimental while my sister's interest was to flip the house and make a profit.</div>
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After some discussion it was decided that my sister would supply the names of two realtors and my son would get two more so that we could get an idea about the houses' value. This sounds easy and straightforward, but it required having to make the arrangements to be at the house when the realtors could come - that sounds simple, but I was living in the house with two of my children. Having strangers walking though every room of your house makes you feel vulnerable and your privacy is invaded. I found it extremely stressful.</div>
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It was suggested that the buyer should have the house inspected so my son decided to take the recommendations from one of the realtors my sister provided. This way she couldn't complain that my son was being unfair. On one day, I had two realtors in looking at the house at the same time a team of five house inspectors were poking through every nook and cranny and a termite inspector came too. Phew! What a day! </div>
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The inspectors found some issues with a part of the roof and the downstairs plumbing. There are issues with a lot of things in the house, but those two made the difference on how the house would have to be sold. Unless we repaired the roof and the plumbing the house would have to be a cash sale. My sisters and I weren't interested in putting any money into the house. </div>
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The sister that was interested in buying didn't have enough cash. My son had cash and made an offer that my sisters hemmed and hawed over. It was decided that we'd have more realtors and property investors look at the house and see what they would offer. Back to me having a parade of strangers waltzing through. I tried to google names to get an idea of just who I was letting come in. One name came up with a guy with a rap sheet of a variety of crimes a mile long - if the person who came was the same person in the mugshot I was going to say (through the window) that the house was not available. It turned out to be a different guy. After I showed him the house I mentioned that he should start building a better online profile - I explained what I had found when I googled his name. He said he had never thought about it before and would definitely get right on it!</div>
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After what seemed like an endless parade of people in to look at the property, my son's offer was the one we settled on. He took a big gulp and sunk his life's savings into the purchase. I'm really proud of him. He has a lot of work to do to update the house and he's planning to do one room at a time. Meanwhile I'm here doing what I can to help out while I decide what's next. </div>
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I had moved downstairs to my mother's room after she died. I didn't want to stay in my mom's room, but her dog wanted to be in that room and the poor thing was having serious issues with anxiety. He was gnawing at his leg and side until he had open wounds. Moving downstairs helped him - we were all mourning in our own ways. I left the room as it was, but finally decided it was time to move out my mom's furniture and get something more up to date. A little at I time, over a few months, I added more of 'me' in the room. I hung some pictures on the walls and changed the desk, got rid of mom's old TV. The last thing I did was to take down mom's old window blinds and put up some curtains, then I sat on the edge of the bed and had a good cry. </div>
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It's been a hard year for me. There are still things to settle with my mother's estate and the mourning process continues. I'm dealing with things one step at a time. </div>
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KhadijaTerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01279047119702679252noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439435.post-54126691232819339202018-10-02T13:20:00.002-04:002018-10-02T13:37:46.682-04:00The Plight of Libyan Medical Care in 2018<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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In the past I had <a href="http://khadijateri.blogspot.com/2007/05/where-is-this-16.html" target="_blank">my own scary Libyan hospital story</a>, but things are getting worse as each day passes. This was reported on Twitter recently. A night at a hospital in Sebha Medical Center:</div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #351c75;"><b>Sebha Health Services.</b></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #351c75;"><b>Last Thurs night a young woman died from internal bleeding at Sebha Medical Centre, the major healthcare provider for the south of Libya. She had been suffering from low blood sugar, anemia and fainted at home suffering a hard fall. The fall caused</b></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #351c75;"><b>— Iman Abdo (@imanlibya) <a href="https://twitter.com/imanlibya/status/1046154801699057665?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">September 29, 2018</a></b></span></span></blockquote>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #351c75;"><b>2/ her placenta to displace from her uterus. She was 6 mths pregnant. She started bleeding and went to a private clinic and waited for hours for an ob/gyn to show. When they got up to leave staff told them the doctor would be there soon. After waiting hours her husband called</b></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #351c75;"><b>— Iman Abdo (@imanlibya) <a href="https://twitter.com/imanlibya/status/1046154809303339008?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">September 29, 2018</a></b></span></span></blockquote>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #351c75;"><b>3/ an.ambulance to take her to the main hospital. By that time she had lost lots of blood and flatlined. She was resuscitated at the hospital and the doctors asked relatives to donate blood for transfusions. She died as they tried to operate on her. The same night in the</b></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #351c75;"><b>— Iman Abdo (@imanlibya) <a href="https://twitter.com/imanlibya/status/1046154845760237573?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">September 29, 2018</a></b></span></span></blockquote>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #351c75;"><b>4/ Obstetrics ward of the Sebha Medical Center the delivery ward was closed and delivering mothers were left to fend for themselves. 1 gave birth in hallway, 1 in bathroom and another was delivered by patients in the ward. A women with stillborn fetus had arrived from</b></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #351c75;"><b>— Iman Abdo (@imanlibya) <a href="https://twitter.com/imanlibya/status/1046154943609163776?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">September 29, 2018</a></b></span></span></blockquote>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #351c75;"><b>5/ outside Sebha looking for help. She was leaking green amniotic fluid and women on the ward told her to try to find a private clinic, she had been to some and all told her to go to main hospital. <br />Some women went home others tried to find any doctor at any clinic to help them</b></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #351c75;"><b>— Iman Abdo (@imanlibya) <a href="https://twitter.com/imanlibya/status/1046154967244046336?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">September 29, 2018</a></b></span></span></blockquote>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #351c75;"><b>6/ This is just one night in a year. One bad night where the richest oil country in Africa is failing vulnerable mothers and babies. We are in a health care crisis and something has to be done. There is no excuse for this.</b></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #351c75;"><b>— Iman Abdo (@imanlibya) <a href="https://twitter.com/imanlibya/status/1046155015533006848?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">September 29, 2018</a></b></span></span></blockquote>
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No one deserves this... no one... Thank you @imanlibya for posting this very revealing tweet thread.<br />
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KhadijaTerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01279047119702679252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439435.post-22696855126328495862018-09-29T01:38:00.002-04:002018-09-29T01:39:14.603-04:00Step Forward in Libya<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I have always been a firm believer that the way forward for Libya is to include more females in government, business and leadership roles. One organization that has helped Libyan women to attain economic empowerment is <a href="https://www.facebook.com/medalibya.ly/" target="_blank">MEDA LIBYA</a> which began in Libya in 2013. Over the past five years they have continued their efforts to train and support Libyan women throughout the country. Their efforts help not only women, but the community and country as a whole. </div>
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Congratulations to the girls and women who participated in this year's Step Forward competition. You are all winners in my eyes!</div>
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<iframe allow="encrypted-media" allowfullscreen="true" allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="488" scrolling="no" src="https://www.facebook.com/plugins/video.php?href=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.facebook.com%2FSLEIDSE%2Fvideos%2F1909583992684036%2F&show_text=1&width=560" style="border: none; overflow: hidden;" width="560"></iframe>
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Previously I posted about MEDA here: <b><a href="http://khadijateri.blogspot.com/2016/09/one-step-at-time.html" target="_blank">One Step at a Time</a></b></div>
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KhadijaTerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01279047119702679252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439435.post-60701443830254148782018-09-22T00:41:00.000-04:002018-09-22T00:41:47.750-04:00Libyan Antiquities: Silently Watching for Over a Millennium <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih4PH39Nat_vrUjkkrCRr8-m9tmmKFlJzbvzQnyELnZuALDz3FrR2UcVeXbf87pdbOhUol6Qkj3FrI7e-1fNOqAsaAXi-etZXoL-IbOt0Wiqa98pa6AFoc4ZgEZKzFM2523UQx6Q/s1600/looking.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih4PH39Nat_vrUjkkrCRr8-m9tmmKFlJzbvzQnyELnZuALDz3FrR2UcVeXbf87pdbOhUol6Qkj3FrI7e-1fNOqAsaAXi-etZXoL-IbOt0Wiqa98pa6AFoc4ZgEZKzFM2523UQx6Q/s640/looking.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo taken at Leptis Magna, Libya</td></tr>
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<b>Silently watching over Libya since the 2nd century AD ....</b></div>
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<b>It's face is battered, but it's eyes are hopeful. </b></div>
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KhadijaTerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01279047119702679252noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439435.post-64988597689977747322018-08-29T10:40:00.001-04:002018-08-29T10:40:07.411-04:00No Peace for Libya?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
In my last post, <a href="http://khadijateri.blogspot.com/2018/07/peace-in-libya-reconciliation.html" target="_blank">Peace in Libya? Reconciliation?</a> I had added a padlet and asked readers to contribute their thoughts and ideas of how Libyans could reach reconciliation. Very few people added anything which leads me to believe that Libyans really aren't interested in achieving any kind of peaceful agreement with one another. That's depressing.<br />
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This week Tripoli is finding itself back to booming and banging as various militias (and whoever) fight to achieve power. No end is in sight as they don't seem interested in peace. Is there any hope?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdussVOnAUfsTG8-SpFLYD7SoJYyQnP31MYPFgbeK0m6eVUY1xkWOVEZK_uXoC_VHkC52fsjIHVF-2d2ZUdsShqNGGQgNK-oswvMcbLHVVBUVzlLy-gx27mzSCPoma70aHAhuP1Q/s1600/hope.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="240" data-original-width="360" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdussVOnAUfsTG8-SpFLYD7SoJYyQnP31MYPFgbeK0m6eVUY1xkWOVEZK_uXoC_VHkC52fsjIHVF-2d2ZUdsShqNGGQgNK-oswvMcbLHVVBUVzlLy-gx27mzSCPoma70aHAhuP1Q/s640/hope.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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KhadijaTerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01279047119702679252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439435.post-65694248324144229312018-07-16T11:08:00.004-04:002018-07-16T11:08:33.608-04:00Peace in Libya? Reconciliation? <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Libya has been in a continual state of unrest for over 7 years. How can Libyans find peace? How can Libya move forward? What are some ways that Libyans can reconcile with one another?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've been playing around with different online ideas for my students and came across <a href="https://padlet.com/" target="_blank">Padlet</a>, which is a kind of online idea board that people can work on together to collaborate ideas and information. Collaborators do not have to register to read or add to a page. I decided to see if Padlet would work as a forum for people to post their thoughts and ideas about the current situation in Libya. There is a lot of discussion about Libya on Facebook and Twitter, but I wanted to see if I could get as many ideas all in one place - and with Padlet's platform the posts would be anonymous. Even the creator of the Padlet page cannot see the identity of the people who post. I thought this was important because it's not about whose idea it is, but about the idea itself. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Padlet is easy to use. If you want to contribute you just click on the (+) in the lower right corner, double click anywhere on the page, or drag and drop to the page. If you click on the three dots in the corner of a post ... you'll find a menu that lets you post in a variety of ways: by comment, uploading files, adding links, searching Google, taking or adding photos, videos, voice recording, drawing, adding a map or linking to other Padlets.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFeseFUe1Ce3h0vm-StJCA3YvgyEajhrZZ7u3S2vt5KjIQkaS7AF57lfZdA9s68HDgGxzWjqhPffwn8Dm-HZpgFYPCJxZayuS_ZYY36izYCPWPXWIZYbs7jxeJ6VIjM_sjh_qBLA/s1600/more.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="219" data-original-width="349" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFeseFUe1Ce3h0vm-StJCA3YvgyEajhrZZ7u3S2vt5KjIQkaS7AF57lfZdA9s68HDgGxzWjqhPffwn8Dm-HZpgFYPCJxZayuS_ZYY36izYCPWPXWIZYbs7jxeJ6VIjM_sjh_qBLA/s320/more.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcPiT2y-ZtPkaYcaVqrWODsiGtBNH2MBmxcpYvzWQWLdJQCCNusn-UQR5u81VEr_0i0iplViErP1d2UQEr5wl9A42KEU76341XOgV3fcZx15kzHqghiVMmS5D4AVf9dHjH9XBIQQ/s1600/features.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="459" data-original-width="281" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcPiT2y-ZtPkaYcaVqrWODsiGtBNH2MBmxcpYvzWQWLdJQCCNusn-UQR5u81VEr_0i0iplViErP1d2UQEr5wl9A42KEU76341XOgV3fcZx15kzHqghiVMmS5D4AVf9dHjH9XBIQQ/s400/features.png" width="243" /></a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thoughts and ideas can be linked together with a line and arrow connecting the posts. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUZB_95b4dL6aFcwScAqyocUpm6D4c0FIS0bt8zxW-B2rtVpOUt2foDSLSDz8lYdbY8XXAyg19lWUITJTQ_mTvsA1Gtj13RtQ3PfkPxLyrfIhtYwnaEJYKxuMWASJPaAmju8p9ZQ/s1600/linkideas.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="203" data-original-width="279" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUZB_95b4dL6aFcwScAqyocUpm6D4c0FIS0bt8zxW-B2rtVpOUt2foDSLSDz8lYdbY8XXAyg19lWUITJTQ_mTvsA1Gtj13RtQ3PfkPxLyrfIhtYwnaEJYKxuMWASJPaAmju8p9ZQ/s1600/linkideas.png" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Padlets can be shared and embedded in blog posts and websites (like below). You can contribute to the discussion below, or go to the link directly: </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="https://padlet.com/khadijateri/reconciliation">https://padlet.com/khadijateri/reconciliation</a></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">How can Libyans reach reconciliation?</span></b></div>
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Read what others have posted. Post your own thoughts and ideas. </div>
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Remember to be constructive and respectful.</div>
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<div class="padlet-embed" style="background: #f4f4f4; border-radius: 2px; border: 1px solid rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.1); box-sizing: border-box; overflow: hidden; position: relative; width: 100%;">
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<iframe allow="camera;microphone;geolocation" frameborder="0" src="https://padlet.com/embed/5nkeh3nxe7wv" style="display: block; height: 608px; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 100%;"></iframe></div>
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<a href="https://padlet.com/?ref=embed" style="border: none; display: block; height: 16px; line-height: 1; margin: 0; padding: 0;" target="_blank"><img alt="Made with Padlet" height="16" src="https://resources.padletcdn.com/assets/made_with_padlet.png" style="background: none; border: none; box-shadow: none; display: inline; margin: 0; padding: 0;" width="86" /></a></div>
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KhadijaTerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01279047119702679252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439435.post-17057953399235094852018-07-01T01:23:00.000-04:002018-07-01T01:23:26.432-04:00I Can't Stop Blogging<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifKmnm8yBdh8-jiOOQ1wxTwD5MjbtSQHNYBEDXcifOfzA7xozq5NNWlppGHw34ZjwZ-vQLMzdHtIPP_Sdm_ZhV1g5sOUdgT_d0L-ZnbsZlZG7H9WFnjH_kB6VuXCTRwAgMfrCFdw/s1600/blogginggraphic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifKmnm8yBdh8-jiOOQ1wxTwD5MjbtSQHNYBEDXcifOfzA7xozq5NNWlppGHw34ZjwZ-vQLMzdHtIPP_Sdm_ZhV1g5sOUdgT_d0L-ZnbsZlZG7H9WFnjH_kB6VuXCTRwAgMfrCFdw/s640/blogginggraphic.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(C) Silvia Rosenthal Tolisano @ langwitches</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've had this blog for almost 14 years. The past few years, posts have been sporadic, but I still manage to post from time to time. As of today there have been 646,178 page views. I've noticed that I seem to have about 4,500 visitors to my blog on an average month. If I post something controversial or intriguing the numbers will shoot up. The most read post is <b><a href="http://khadijateri.blogspot.com/2013/08/a-very-important-guest-post.html" target="_blank">A Very Important Guest Post</a></b>, closely followed by a post I wrote in 2008 titled <b><a href="http://khadijateri.blogspot.com/2008/11/old-wives-tales.html" target="_blank">Old Wive's Tales</a></b>. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The popularity of blogging seems to have dropped as people find themselves absorbed by Facebook, Twitter and Instagram, but from time to time there is a resurgence. I'm always so pleased when I find new blogs by Libyans. Last week I had an email from a young Libyan girl named Mariya who wrote to say she was 12 years old and was starting her own website. She also said that she was the daughter of one of my students. When her father read her website he suggested that she read my blog. She wrote to tell me that she found my blog inspiring and that by reading it she had learned a lot of new vocabulary. She asked me if I could give her some tips she could use to help attract readers to her site. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To be honest, I was really thrilled to receive an email from her, and I was especially happy to know she was the daughter of one of my former students. It's kind of nice to know that my teaching lives on in the next generation. I emailed her back and gave her some tips. Then I decided to post the tips here on my blog. Here is the advice I gave her:</span></div>
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<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Don't write posts that are too long - people like to read something that won't take much time. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Post often. It will keep people coming back for more. (I need to heed my own advice!)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A picture is worth a thousand words. Add pictures to create interest.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Encourage comments... ask your readers a question or what their opinion is (but don't expect them to have the same opinion that you have)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Share your links on social media - create a Facebook page or a Twitter account for your blog</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Link to other things in your blog, but make sure the settings opens the link in a new tab so your page wont close.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Have a guest post something on your blog (my most popular post is a guest post)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Write about things that interest you and share your link with people who share the same interests</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Blogger has a feature that allows you to look at your site statistics. You can also add other stat counters. I like <b><a href="http://www.statcounter.com/">http://www.statcounter.com</a></b></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Check to make sure your grammar and spelling are correct. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Use <b><a href="http://thesaurus.com/">thesaurus.com</a></b> to help you find just the right word.</span></li>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've added Mariya's site to my <b><a href="http://khadijateri.blogspot.com/p/link-list.html" target="_blank">Link List</a></b>. Her blog is called <b><a href="http://mariya2006.simplesite.com/" target="_blank">Get the right choice - If you want to do something right, choose something right...</a></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Have you found any Libyan blogs or Libyan related blogs that aren't on my <b><a href="http://khadijateri.blogspot.com/p/link-list.html" target="_blank">Link List</a></b>? Let me know in the comments.</span></div>
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KhadijaTerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01279047119702679252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439435.post-25296284456480399362018-06-27T12:34:00.003-04:002018-06-27T12:34:31.817-04:00Kindness... blessings... <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Last night we went to one of our usual spots to hang out in the evening, a fast food place by the beach that has tables so that you can sit next to the water. There's a boat dock where the water taxi stops to let people on and off. We enjoy going there because it's quiet and peaceful. We go there often; it was a place that my mother used to like so we have fond memories of times spent there. Sometimes you see dolphins playing in the water, we watch the boats go in and out. Many boaters park at the dock to pick up something to eat or to shop at the nearby supermarket. We like to go after dinner to get a coffee, ice-cream or a smoothie. We relax, chat and enjoy the evening. It's a safe place.</span></span></div>
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We enjoyed our evening, as we always do. Just as we got in the car, ready to go home, a man ran up. He was waving for me to stop. I recognized him as being one of the boaters that docks there to go shopping. He probably lives on his boat. I thought maybe something was wrong with my car, so I rolled down the window to ask him what was wrong. He said <b>"I'm so glad that you didn't leave before I finished my shopping. I'm so glad you are still here. I don't usually say much, but I wanted to tell you that I am with you people, I support you people" </b>and with that he reached into his shopping bag and pulled out a large bag of Hershey's chocolate kisses.<b> "I want you to have this. I support you!"</b> He handed it to me through the window. I was so surprised. <b>"Bless you! Thank you! Bless you!"</b> I told him. He had a grin from ear to ear - actually, I think we both did.</div>
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Despite the current divisive political climate in America there are still people who care. It's so easy to focus on what is presented to us in the news and think that this is the reality - but it's not. My America is the one where people respect and accept one another.. and care for one another. This is my America... this is the America that I know and love. </div>
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I hope that I meet up with that kind soul again in the future and we have a chance to sit down and talk. I'd like to hear his opinion of things and to thank him again for his kindness.</div>
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KhadijaTerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01279047119702679252noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439435.post-50614603043556570482018-05-25T04:14:00.001-04:002018-05-25T05:26:06.641-04:00Ramadan 2018<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Today I was thinking about all of my past Ramadans. It seems so long since my first Ramadan back in 1981, thirty-seven years ago. So much has changed in my life since then. </div>
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This year, right before the beginning of Ramadan, I took my kids shopping at a local Asian market. We had a great time, happily checking out all the interesting things and deciding what to buy to try during Ramadan. When we finished shopping and walked out to the parking lot, there in the middle of the lot was a crowd of people gathered around the scene of a car accident... and the car at the center of everyone's attention was my car! </div>
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What a shock! It turned out that the man who hit my car had been driving recklessly and decided, for some reason I will never understand, to back into the parking space in front of my car at high speed. He smashed into the front of my car so hard that it pushed it clear out of the space and across to the cars parked on the other side, narrowly missing a parked Jaguar. There were two girls that came over immediately and said they had witnessed the event and would wait for the police to give a report. The police had already been called and were on their way.</div>
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The man that hit my car was a newly arrived immigrant from Vietnam. He'd only recently gotten his drivers licence and this was already his second accident (he was driving his friend's car both times - poor friend!). The police arrived and charged him with reckless driving and revoked his licence on the spot. </div>
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My daughter Nora took lots of pictures for the insurance company while I stood by in shock and disbelief. My car had only 24,000 miles on it and not even a single scratch.... now what? Everyone was so kind to me; the policeman, the insurance agent, the witnesses, the tow truck driver. I was thankful that no one had been in the car, no one had gotten hurt, it could have been much, much worse. I was too shocked to cry. My heart ached and I wondered if I should ask to be taken to the hospital. We went home and I went straight to bed and stayed there. In the evening we went to the beach and sat quietly watching the sun set.</div>
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Initially, the insurance company said the car was repairable. The body shop told me that there was over $6,000 worth of damage. After they started taking it apart a few days later, they said the damage was much more extensive and decided to total it. The insurance company and I discussed how much they'd give me for the car - quite a bit less than I wanted. I argued with them that it was in pristine condition and still under manufacturer's warranty. In the end we came to a compromise. I started car shopping and picked up the check. It didn't take long to find a car that my mechanic approved of and fit my budget. I am back on the road once more.</div>
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Later, when I went to the auto body shop to take the licence plate off my car and remove the things I had left inside. I stood and looked at the car and cried. I said to the woman from the body shop 'Maybe I should take one last picture' but she said 'Oh no don't do that. It's bad karma.... just leave it behind you and walk away. You are meant for something else". I took her advice, dried my tears and walked away. </div>
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All of this excitement happened at the beginning of Ramadan and added to that I had a three-day trip to San Francisco for some work right in the middle of these chaotic days. While in California I met up with my cousin and an old friend from Libya. It was a whirlwind trip, but I managed to also see Fisherman's Wharf, Alcatraz (from afar) and the Golden Gate Bridge, which was on my bucket list. So much to be thankful for. </div>
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After the accident one of my colleagues sent me a message: "<i>I'm sorry God is using this time to strengthen your patience. Practicing patience sucks."</i> I pondered on the events and reflected on my beliefs. I know that no matter what sort of adversity a person experiences, God will create a path or a way out for those who are steadfast in their patience. God revealed in the Quran: <b>For truly with hardship comes ease; truly with hardship comes ease. </b>(Surat al-Inshirah: 5-6) and ... <b>Whoever has fear of God - He will give him a way out and provide for him from where he does not expect. Whoever puts his trust in God - He will be enough for him...</b> (Surat at-Talaq: 2-3). </div>
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There are three more weeks left of Ramadan. I will continue to practice patience!</div>
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KhadijaTerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01279047119702679252noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439435.post-50900031585203136312018-04-30T01:52:00.000-04:002018-04-30T02:02:27.764-04:00It's been a while<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I haven't posted in ages. I could list a lot of reasons (excuses), but that really isn't getting me anywhere. Actually, not much has changed or is going on. I've been busy with work, family and trying to get a grip on some health issues. Here are some things I've been thinking about lately:</div>
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I've been considering adding a page to my blog with an ongoing list of books/publications/movies about Libya that I have come across. Add some reviews and let others add their thoughts in the comments. So far it's just a thought...</div>
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One of the blogs on my <a href="http://khadijateri.blogspot.com/p/link-list.html" target="_blank">Link List</a> has been recently revived after being dormant for a some time. What was once called <i><b>Caterpillar Cafe</b></i> has been renamed <i><b>Dear Sister</b></i>. It's listed in my <a href="http://khadijateri.blogspot.com/p/link-list.html" target="_blank">Link List</a> under the category Married to Libyans. You can find the blog here: <a href="https://cafecaterpillar.blog/" target="_blank">Dear Sister</a></div>
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Ramadan will begin in two weeks. Are you ready? I've been stocking up on food and trying to organize my life so that I can focus more on family and the spiritual aspect of the holy month. Last year I had to travel for work during Ramadan, I'm still not sure what my schedule will be this year, but I am cutting back on some of my work - I don't think I will pass up any chances to travel though since I enjoy it so much! We'll see what the month brings. </div>
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KhadijaTerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01279047119702679252noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439435.post-6372831190851069182017-12-26T19:38:00.001-05:002017-12-26T19:45:51.322-05:00Revisiting an Old Libyan Friend<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">In 2002, I wrote a tribute to my dear Libyan neighbour and friend, Najiyah. The Tripoli Post, which was the sole English newspaper in Tripoli at the time, published my story and I later put it on my original website. I decided to dust it off and post it on my blog. Enjoy!</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #006600;">My Missing Link </span><br /><span style="color: black; font-family: "verdana" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">By: Therese Martin 'Khadija'</span></h1>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>I came to Libya in 1989 and for the first year lived with my husband's family. We had an apartment of our own, but it was in very bad condition and needed to be completely renovated. Finally in 1990 all the repair work was completed, and my husband dropped me off at the flat to clean things up so we could finally move in. </b></span></div>
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<b>It was a happy day for me. I was glad that soon we would be living in our own place. I hadn't been to the flat while the workmen had been there and things were quite a mess. Paint spills needed to be cleaned up and spatters of plaster were everywhere, not to mention the accumulated dust! I decided to open up the windows and balconies to let in some fresh air and sunshine while I worked. </b></div>
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<b>While opening the back balcony, I noticed a woman watching me from her window. I smiled and said "Assalamualaikum". I wasn't sure how my new neighbor would receive me. I'm American, and though I'd been in Libya for a year, I never had to deal with anyone besides my husband's family before this time. She smiled back and replied, "Walaikumasalam. Kay fahalik?" I expressed that I was fine and inquired how she was. "Qwise", she replied. She informed me her name was Najiyah and asked me mine. I told her my name was Khadija. She nodded and smiled and I went back to work. </b></div>
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<b>It was a busy day for me. Every time I would pass by the window or balcony, I'd see Najiyah. One by one, each of her six children came peeking out at me. All of them wanted to introduce themselves. </b></div>
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<b>Over the years Najiyah and I became very good friends. Her balcony faced mine and we visited while hanging the daily laundry. The two of us shared our favorite recipes, and she explained many things about Libyan culture. But most of all, Najiyah kept me informed about what was going on in our community. She told me who was getting married, and who had had a baby. If one of the neighbors were sick, Najiyah would share the news. She was my link with the neighborhood. </b></div>
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<b>While watching Najiyah's children grow up over the years, I added to my own family. Najiyah often had advice on how to raise my little ones. She was alert to what my children were doing, and quick to notify me if they were doing what they shouldn't. I always felt my home was safe with Najiyah nearby. She worried over my children and me as though we were her own. Najiyah became a special friend. </b></div>
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<b>One day Najiyah told me she had a small growth in her mouth. She wasn't quite sure what it was and planned to see a specialist about it. Over the next few weeks she was back and forth to the doctor. She was so busy getting medical care that I didn't see much of her on the balcony. Deciding to look-in on her at home one day, I found her in a very depressed state. She said the doctor thought it was an infection, but she believed that it was more serious than that, because her husband had decided to take her to Tunis for another opinion. </b></div>
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<b>When she returned from Tunis, it was with sad news. The doctors had diagnosed her with oral cancer. Everyone was very upset. I spent hours researching the subject on the Internet and urged her to have the tumor removed as soon as possible. Her husband quickly took her to England for specialized treatment. </b></div>
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<b>While she was away, the balcony became a lonely place. Najiyah's children were busy with their studies; thus her windows and balconies were usually closed. I would occasionally go to her house to ask her daughters for any news. The news was not favorable. As a result, Najiyah and her husband had decided to leave England and go to Tunis for treatment so they could be closer to Libya and their family. Everyone was worried. </b></div>
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<b>It just so happened that I'd be traveling to Tunis. I told Najiyah's oldest daughter that I planned to visit her mother while there, and needed the address of where she was staying so I could find her. I swore her to secrecy, as I wanted it to be a surprise. </b></div>
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<b>The capitol of Tunisia is a ten-hour drive from Libya. My husband and I planned to stay only for a few days. We stopped at the train station to pick up a map of the area. I had the address with me from Najiyah's daughter. Tunis was a big, crowded city, and the streets were confusing because the names changed every few blocks. Finally, I found the street on the map...now the challenge was to get there in the car! </b></div>
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<b>We drove around for over an hour, finally finding the street but unable to locate the number. I was determined not to leave Tunis without seeing my long-time friend. We inquired at different houses on the block. "Do you have a Libyan couple staying here? The wife is seeking medical treatment,"we'd ask. </b></div>
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<b>At last we found a woman who informed us that Najiyah and her husband were staying in a small apartment behind her house. She showed us where to park our car and how to get to the flat. The landlady knocked on their door and called out, "You have visitors!" Najiyah's husband came out. He looked astonished to see us. My husband was busy speaking with him while I sneaked inside. </b></div>
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<b>Najiyah was sitting on a cushion on the floor. She looked up, amazed to see me there. I ran to her and we hugged each other. Both of us were crying. How good to see Najiyah after so long, but also how sad to see her looking so ill! Quickly regaining our composer, we sat close and both started talking at once. </b></div>
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<b>It was a pleasing feeling to be able to visit with my neighbor once again. We talked about how her children were handling things while she was away, and I shared with her what little news of our community that I knew. After all, Najiyah was my link with the neighborhood, and she wasn't there. Najiyah told me how her treatment was progressing. The doctors wanted her to have chemotherapy and radiation treatments to shrink the tumor before they tried to surgically remove it. </b></div>
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<b>She wasn't sure how much longer it would be until she returned home. The tumor seemed to be getting larger, not smaller. Only too soon our visit was over, as my husband said it was time to go. We clung to each other. She didn't want me to leave. </b></div>
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<b>When we got back to Libya, I looked in on Najiyah's daughters to tell them about my visit with their mother. I told them that their mother would be home soon, and that she was in good spirits. A few weeks later, my neighbors returned. They had decided to complete Najiyah's treatment in Libya. </b></div>
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<b>Over the next few weeks Najiyah's health became worse. The tumor was growing and the treatment was making her very ill. She was put in the hospital, as she was too sick to stay at home. The balcony was empty now. It seemed an unfriendly place to be. Every few days I would see one of her children and inquire about their mother's health. At first they were optimistic, but as time progressed, they would just shake their heads and look very sad. </b></div>
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<b>During this time, I only went once to visit Najiyah in the hospital. Every day I'd tell myself to go, but something kept me from going. I felt like an intruder. It was time for Najiyah to spend time with her children and siblings. I didn't want to get in their way. Also, I couldn't bear to see my friend suffering. Denying that she was so sick, I kept telling myself she would get well again, that soon we'd go back to our usual chats over the laundry. </b></div>
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<b>Early one morning, about 6 o'clock, I was awoken by the sounds of a tent being put up. The tent-poles made an unmistakable hollow metalic clang as they were assembled. I put the pillow over my head to block out the noise, telling myself I was dreaming, or possibly someone was putting up a tent for a wedding. I squeezed the pillow tight over my ears, but by then I could hear women crying. I knew that my friend had died. </b></div>
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<b>I went to the cupboard; pulled out a stack of bed sheets and hung them on the balcony clothesline, to hide the view. I closed each window and door tightly, to try to create a barrier from the commotion outside. My husband said, "You have to go there", but I replied, "I can't." </b></div>
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<b>All morning I listened to the sounds of Najiyah's funeral, unable to bring myself to except that it was finally happening. I wanted to believe it was all a very bad dream. My husband came home for lunch and asked me why I'd still not gone to the funeral. "I'll go when the noise stops... when things have settled". </b></div>
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<b>My husband shook his head, "In Libya you have to go to a funeral as soon as you hear about it,"he replied. "I'll go when I'm ready," I told him. "Do what you want." he said with a sigh. Knowing I had to go but dreading it, I waited until after they took my friend to the cemetery. By then, the women were not crying as much. </b></div>
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<b>Najiyah embraced me as a friend, even though we were so unlike one another. I was American and she was Libyan. There were never any hard feelings because I was an American. Our cultures were so vastly different, yet we both accepted each other as equals, sharing the bonds of womanhood and Islam. </b></div>
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<b>It's been over a year since Najiyah died. I see her girls from time to time while I hang the laundry, and we chat. But it's not the same. My balcony used to be a special place, but it's lost its magic. I never know what's happening in my neighborhood anymore, for my link to the neighborhood is missing. </b></div>
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<b>"God bless you and have mercy on you, my dear friend Najiyah. May you be rewarded for all your kindness and for the friendship you gave to me."</b></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><b>Published in The Tripoli Post - Monday, November 4-7, 2002 </b></span></div>
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KhadijaTerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01279047119702679252noreply@blogger.com3