Linda and Sarah, Circa 1987

I will periodically post a photograph of my mother that I have scanned and retouched. This photograph of my mother and Sarah was taken at some point in 1987. Click on the photograph for a high-resolution version.

Dia De Los Muertos

Today is the second day of the Dia De Los Muertos (the Day of the Dead). Wikipedia has this to say about the holiday:

Though the subject matter may be considered morbid from the perspective of some other cultures, celebrants typically approach the Day of the Dead joyfully, and though it occurs roughly at the same time as Halloween, All Saints' Day and All Souls Day, the traditional mood is much brighter — with emphasis on celebrating and honoring the lives of the deceased. Revelers of the Day of the Dead celebrate the continuation of life — believing not that death is the end, but rather the beginning of a new stage in life. In Mexico and Mexican communities in the United States and Europe, the Day of the Dead is of particular cultural importance.

More here.

Janet, my aunt (Linda's sister), forwarded me an email from Dianne Romain. Here is an excerpt:

Here in Mexico the Day of the Dead is celebrated on November 1 and 2. On November 1st the babies, "angelitos," are remembered. The 2nd is for the other folks who have died. Family and friends take favorite foods of the dead to the cemeteries and spend the night eating, drinking, and visiting. They also make altars in their homes with photos, marigolds, sweet rolls (anise rolls made at this time of years), and little sugar candy figures of animals and fruits. This year Linda was on my mind when gathering things for our altar. I included a beautiful photo of Linda that Jake posted in his tribute to his mother.

Today, mom's obituary appeared in the Herald Sun:

CHAPEL HILL - Linda Kay Oldham, 63, a resident of Chapel Hill and Cairo, Egypt, died Friday, October 12, 2007, in Cairo, Egypt. She was an accomplished social anthropologist.Surviving are four children, Jake Lester, Aziza Mostafa, Osman Mostafa and Sarah Mostafa, and two sisters, Janet Oldham and Carla Oldham.The funeral service was held in Cairo, Egypt, on Saturday, October 13, 2007. Burial took place at the Kulliyat al-Banat Cemetery in Cairo.

The web version is here, but I don not know how long the link will be valid.

Louise Kemprecos

Louise Kemprecos (nee Allen) was a very close friend of my mother's, and a wonderful friend she is, no matter that I was too immature to appreciate her and her husband, Jeff, sometimes.

I had asked Louise to write me some stories about her experiences with my mother. She graciously responded with a wonderful email, from which I offer the following excerpts (the comments inside the brackets are mine):

Dear Osama,

...in 2005, when I last spoke to her, your mom told me she had lost a lot of weight, and I was very surprised, because I had never known her to do that before. I asked her how she had done it, and she said, "The foods I like I'm not eating, and the foods I love I'm eating in small quantities." That was so typical of her, to be able to think a thing through right to its essence and go ahead and do it.

I don't know whether I need to tell you how much her friendship meant to me for many years. We first met at EQI, which I joined as a receptionist in 1984. She was my hero, then, going out to the zabaleen area and working to improve people's lives [the Zabaleen area is the largest garbage collector's community in Cairo]. Then you were living in Zamalek, in a homey but rather dark apartment. Later you moved to Mohandisin, to a wonderful house with a garden, and a lovely light kitchen. She loved to cook delicious meals for you, but I'm afraid you weren't always as appreciative as you could have been!

Your mom treasured old-fashioned values, I think, and old-fashioned experiences. She showed me how to take a raw [chicken] and cut it up, and told me a story of how she had once bought an entire cow with friends and had it butchered and split among them. That seemed a very old-world experience to me! A kind of farm country experience. We debated how to peel an onion most efficiently.

When Jeff and I got married, she gave us a wedding present that she knew we would love, a year's membership at the Swiss Club. I think you were still in Zamalek at the time, and the notion of going to a garden and sitting, talking, and playing seemed like a heaven to us all. That was a big improvement in her life, I think.

Professionally, of course I learned a lot from her. We worked on two projects together, a survey of hospitals in Imbaba, and a survey of households in a village in Edfu, Aswan, called ElAtwani. I loved that time. She was very close to a woman in ElAtwani, a kindred spirit.

If I have a better story to share with you, I will send it along. I was very attached to your family in those years, I remember how Osman would go off to school in the morning looking very trim, and come home dragging his bag behind him, right out of a Dennis the Menace cartoon, clothes all askew and dirty! I remember seeing Haddouta Masriya, I think three times!, because I couldn't really understand but wanted to. When Sarah was born I bought a stroller out for her from the US, and your mom loved pushing her all over Zamalek in it.

I think "Sheikhit ilhaara" is a term that would apply to your mom [Sheikhit ilhaara means, literally, "elderwoman of the alley." The implication is that my mother was a leader who was always genuinely interested in, and cared about, the lives of others--or something close.]

That is all for now,

Love to all, Louise.

Happy Halloween!

On Noggin, a TV channel for children, cartoon characters Moose A. Moose and Zee sing a song entitled “I don’t like candy corn.” Unlike them, my mother loved candy corn, so eat a few kernels for her tonight, if you wish.

I remember that my mother made me a clown suit for Halloween when I was five. The white suit had red pom-pom buttons, red zigzag trim on the puffy sleeves, and a red-dyed mop for hair. I loved that costume.

Happy Halloween!

The Dread Vocabulary Book

Because I was growing up in Cairo, in the Egyptian educational system, my mother feared that my English would not advance past the 5 year-old's English that I went there with. She had already made an avid reader out of me, and I was an active member of the All Saint's Cathedral/British International School Library, but she still feared that I was not getting enough out of the many books I read (I was such an avid reader that, when I was thirteen, I read the entire Sherlock Holmes short stories [1,167 pages, if my memory serves me] and the four novels in the same week), so she devised what I then considered a cruel and unusual torture: I had to find ten new words that I did not know, every single day. I then had to look them up in Webster's New World Dictionary, and copy the entire definition, including etymology and phonetic transliteration, into the Dread Vocabulary Book.

It gets worse: I was subjected to random inspections and quizzes and, when I slipped, I had to make up for lost time before I could go out on any special jaunt or trip. Considering that I was sometimes three weeks in arrears, I was up against a daunting challenge if I had a date that evening!

The end result? Why, I learned my mother tongue! I discovered, to my surprise, that I have a better command of English than most college graduates who received their educations in the United States.

Bless you, mom.

Lost Friends

I have been looking for friends of my mother's. Some of them I have not seen or spoken to in twenty years or more, and some I never met at all. I am placing their names here in the hope that they will somehow learn that I am looking for them. If you are one of the people listed below, if you know where to find any of these people, or if you happen to know a name that belongs on this list that is not already there, please let me know.

Bechir Chourou of Tunis, Tunisia
David Tavakoli of parts unknown
Marianne Blegvad of Copenhagen
Louise Stoner Crawford
Bill Curtis (ex-husband)
James Martone (of CNN fame)
Ali El Kerdani, formerly of Danida
Ahmed Ramzi, Father of Mohamed, formerly of Save the Children, El Minia (now apparently in Qena)
Sandy Land, formerly the Ford Foundation Maternal and Child Health Po now living and teaching in Syracuse, NY
Mimi (Muhammad) Abd al-Wadoud, of the Palm Press, Cairo
Hania Sholkamy
Barbara Ibrahim
Tafida El Etribi
Abdallah El Etribi
Susan Kline, formerly of John Snow International (?)

Any help will be greatly appreciated.

Those Were the Days, My Friends

One of the earliest memories of my mother has to do with a couple of songs she really thought were special. The fact is that my mother did not listen to music very often, so when she did, it was something to remember. One of the songs was "Tie a yellow ribbon round the ole oak tree," (which acquired something of a special significance to me as I reluctantly participated in two wars) and the other was "Those were the days my friends," which surely resonates with all of us who know it.

"Those were the days" was sung by a number of singers, but seems to have been sung most successfully by Mary Hopkin in 1968. It is believed to have toppled "Hey Jude" from the top spot on the charts. More information about the song can be found here (You can actually purchase the song and download it for under a dollar here). The lyrics are as follows:

Once upon a time, there was a tavern
Where we used to raise a glass or two
Remember how we laughed away the hours
Think of all the great things we would do

Those were the days, my friend
We thought they'd never end
We'd sing and dance forever and a day
We'd live the life we choose
We'd fight and never lose
For we were young and sure to have our way

Di di di di di di
Di di di di di di
Di di di di di di di di di di

Then the busy years went rushing by us
We lost our starry notions on the way
If, by chance, I'd see you in the tavern,
We'd smile at one another and we'd say,

Those were the days, my friend
We thought they'd never end
We'd sing and dance forever and a day
We'd live the life we choose
We'd fight and never lose
For we were young and sure to have our way

Di di di di di di
Di di di di di di
Di di di di di di di di di di

Just tonight, I stood before the tavern
Nothing seemed the way it used to be
In the glass, I saw a strange reflection
Was that lonely woman really me?

Those were the days, my friend
We thought they'd never end
We'd sing and dance forever and a day
We'd live the life we choose
We'd fight and never lose
For we were young and sure to have our way

Di di di di di di
Di di di di di di
Di di di di di di di di di di

Di di di di di di
Di di di di di di
Di di di di di di di di di di

Through the door, there came familiar laughter,
I saw your face and heard you call my name
Oh, my friend, we're older but still no wiser
For in our hearts the dreams are still the same

Those were the days, my friend
We thought they'd never end
We'd sing and dance forever and a day
We'd live the life we choose
We'd fight and never lose
For we were young and sure to have our way

Di di di di di di
Di di di di di di
Di di di di di di di di di di

Di di di di di di
Di di di di di di
Di di di di di di di di di di

La la la la la la
La la la la la la
La la la la la la

How much more is there to say, really? I apologize for waxing sentimental on you, dear reader; I promise not to do it often. For tonight, however, I will think about my mother, and about dreams, loneliness, lost youth, and about days gone by.

Cheers.

Postscript: I do not know if I have violated any copyrights by posting the above lyrics; I certainly did not intend to impinge on anyone's rights. I copied the lyrics from this web site, where I could not find any notice of warning. If I am in violation of somebody's rights, I will be glad to immediately rectify the situation--simply inform me and I will immediately remove the lyrics.