As I travel, I write. At first I thought the people in various countries are so different, but I recently discovered that they are similar. Their similarities are more than their differences. They laugh at similar jokes, they have same feelings, they are humans. If you compare travel writing in the past and nowadays, you will find that cities were much more different from each other in the past than now. Modernity and civilisation are widely spread. Mass media conveys the world to viewers in no time. You can know about places you have not visited yet, but have seen on TV.
That will not weaken travel books, as they give you the personal experience of the writer in a new place or a new country. That is what I tried to do when I came to Ireland. I have now put my four years’ experience into my book about Ireland.
Ireland inspired me from the first day I came here. I liked its romance, the greenery everywhere, the kind people, the countryside, the cows and sheep, the birds in the sky, the cotton white clouds, the history, the festivals. I loved this country and my family too; I loved everything except the weather. I wrote about all that and more in my book, The Sun Shines Sometimes, a travel memoir about Ireland.
I tried to publish it through Irish publishers, but I did not find an interest in it, which pushed me to self-publishing through Amazon, and it is available now as an eBook, paperback, and Kindle. It is the first travel memoir about Ireland by an Arabic writer.
I am giving a talk to launch the book at the Irish Writers Centre in Dublin on March 18th at 6.30pm for anybody who is interested to hear how an Arabic writer sees their country. The book was published first in Arabic in Egypt a few months ago. The English translation of the boo is by Dr Laila Helmi, assssited by Cath Grogan and Kimberly Du Boise.
There will be also be a talk and book signing at the International Travel Writing Festival “Imrama” in Lismore in June 11th.
An extract from The Sun Shines Sometimes (travels memoirs in Ireland):
“I know you are very busy these days, but I would like to tell you about my journeys in Ireland where I’ve lived for years. Journeys of hopes and dreams, tours and viewings of people and places will tell you about it. Journeys of feelings and thoughts, in which I will tell you about Irish customs and tales, joys and sorrows, their different skies and differing climates I have experienced. They have left their imprint on me, and I believe they’ll do the same to you. At times you will laugh, at others you will wonder, and I’ll offer you the answers.
“I invite you to join me on this enjoyable journey through the following pages of faraway lands, the land of saints, the land of a thousand smiles, the land of rains, cows and horses.
“You will see through my eyes and hear through my pen. We will meet the people of the land, we will wander through its cities and climb its mountains. There ... where the clouds are nebulous and while; where the sun shines at times. Shall we go?”
The Irish
A serene smile is the best thing an Irish person meets you with. They may approach you with a ‘good morning’; they may nod at you; or they may offer help should you need it. They apologize if they inadvertently stand in your way and you are in a hurry.
In other countries the smile may sometimes be misunderstood. A smile may be sarcastic or may hide an ulterior motive. Or it may be the sign of some form of dementia.
In a country like Singapore, for example, where I spent four years, no one would smile at you at all, not even your neighbour, unless you said good morning first. Most of the time they are an introvert people, who do not welcome strangers but they bear no animosity either. In Ukraine, on the other hand, where I could take it for only one year, they don’t even smile at you when you greet them. On the contrary, they will respond to your smile with a frown because they are simply a people who tend mostly to be racist. They do not welcome Arabs, Africans or Asians. They may grudgingly accept their European neighbours. One wonders if that is the way Russian peoples are. The reason may be that these were peoples that had lived for years in isolation. Some may explain it because of the rates of unemployment, since they may perceive strangers as potential competitors for a livelihood that is already difficult to secure.
Knowing this, and in light of my experience with various peoples in countries where I have lived during the years of my travels, I appreciate the Irish. They are generally a kind people, with only few exceptions. But then we don’t live in the age of angels.
You may find a neighbour who doesn’t want to greet you; you may find many neighbors who respect each other immensely, but never exchange a word. When you walk through a neighborhood in Dublin, for instance, you will hear nothing but the rustling of trees and your own footsteps. The neighbours, however, would seem to be asleep night and day. Each is an island onto themselves, and yet they rush to your help should you need them or ask them for assistance.
Sarah, an Irish lady in her seventies, told me that the Irish people have changed greatly since her childhood. She said that in the past the house doors would be open, and neighbours would walk in to greet each other after a mere knock on the door. Families used to be far more closely knit than they were today. These days people were all preoccupied with their own problems and worries. One could only visit after taking a prior appointment. I told her, “But in general there is good will.” She looked at me and said wonderingly, “You say the Irish are nice. Then what about the Egyptians? They are extremely kind and nice. I’ve been to Egypt and I’ve seen how they welcome foreigners.”
Some Irish people, especially those who have spent many years abroad, hold a different opinion. One of them is Rob, the father of my son’s friend at high school, who one day said to me, “I don’t think the Irish have changed much. I spent around 20 years in Argentina before my return last year to settle in Ireland. I find everything pretty much the same. There is a bit of change, but it is far less than what other peoples have witnessed. We still preserve our traditions and good will.”
They are optimistic by nature, or at least seem to be. If you talk to an Irish person, you will find them smiling and hopeful, as if soaring in the sky of happiness, whereas they may be burdened with problems or worries. Yet they try to forget their worries, at least in front of others. They make you feel like everything in life is beautiful. Is it a kind of faith? Is it this people’s custom?
Siobhan, one of my Irish lady friends, told me once that her grandmother had been ill for a while, and she had admitted her to a state house for the elderly. She would visit her regularly, and each time she would tell her a funny joke to make her laugh. One time she told her, “Grandma, what does a duck say when it greets another duck?” The grandmother smiled weakly but was not able to speak. So the granddaughter said, “I’ll say it for you, Grandma, this time; “quack quack”.”
She told me she had learned a lot from her grandmother. One day she asked her how she had coped with great patience and courage as a young wife, with her husband falling ill and then passing on. Her grandmother had replied, “My child, that’s life. We have to be patient. Each day when I wake up and find anew the sun shining, I raise my hands to the heavens, and thank the Lord for a new day I am allowed to live in this life.”
Fortitude, then, is another admirable attribute to be added to their characteristics. The Irish are a very religious people. I can feel that when I talk with some of my Irish friends. Many of them have relatives who are nuns or monks. Often they volunteer for charity work, especially after their retirement. You may run into someone who one day volunteered to help patients in a hospital, offering them “the Lord’s blesses”, as they call it, which consists of morsels dipped into water and blessed with verses from the Bible. Others may volunteer for a community centre offering services at some church, or at an orphanage, or other activities. They do this in their firm belief that the good they do will one day be returned, especially when they are vulnerable or ill. My friend Breda often went on Thursdays to the hospital for volunteer work. When I offered to go with her and help, she was embarrassed, but thanked me and said it was work I could not undertake. When she explained, I understood that only Catholics could do it.
The nice thing was that my friend also cared for a colleague of hers who had gone into retirement and had only one relative in addition to my friend. Breda went to visit her at home for months and then admitted her to the state hospital just in time. She continued to care for that lady, until one day she told me that the elderly woman had passed away and she mourned her. I tried to solace her, telling her the lady had been relieved of her suffering. My friend smiled and said, “Can you believe she left me some of her money in her will before she died. I had not expected that at all!”
In every hospital you can find a prayer room, furnished for praying at any time. There is a statue of Jesus Christ and of the Virgin Mary. A priest may meet with the family members of a patient whose case was hopeless. They would pray to God to bless and restore the patient, or the priest would preach patience to the family after the patient’s death and pray for them.
When the postman comes with a letter and delivers it to you, you’ll find him leaving with a smile, wishing you “Long life to you.”
If you get into a cab, you’ll find the driver smiling and asking you, “Lovely day, isn’t it?” Even if it is pouring outside as usual, you can only smile back before getting out. And if you don’t have the remaining euro or two you owe him, he’ll simply say, “No problem,” and drive on.
I remember an episode my husband told me that had happened to him when he had come here on his own at the beginning. He was holding a map of the downtown area, trying to get to know its various districts. He wanted to go to a certain place, and asked an Irish passerby. The man smiled at him, asking if he was new to the country and where he came from. He welcomed him, then said, “You are now outside that map.” Then he pointed out the road my husband should follow.
The man left, and my husband went towards his destination, only to run into the same Irish man again after a while. The man smiled and said, “Now you’re inside the map.”
Salwa-writer@hotmail.com
