The British-ness in me is a deep rooted cultural bed of issues that I was unaware I had and it still flowers, blooms at times, to my amazement. I can just about handle the arm cradling thing. You know what I mean right? The thing that distinguished gentlemen and ladies used to do in the west. I only ever see it now as movie and pop stars approach the walkway of the Oscars (have you noticed that too?)

I’m automatically unqualified to talk on this subject being a man. But maybe that is part of the problem. Men don’t seem to want to identify with women in the least, let alone discuss their behaviour towards them. Unplanned I found myself the only male in the middle of a discussion regarding the treatment of [...]

What would make a bunch of grown men run out of a mosque as soon as the early morning prayer had finished? I just came from there. I will tell you, but it’s one of those “you had to be there really” tales. Like any normal morning (Fajr) prayer we all lined up in a [...]

My Arabic teacher is looking for a wife. He is only 21 years old. Nice guy. He studied at the University of Cairo and for all intent and purpose he is a good looking guy (no Bruno). He comes to see me three times a week and we go through Qu’ran and Arabic. On the Arabic day [...]