From the beginning, my relationship with the island was clear: it was my home. Still portraits of its paved yard, the dank corridor leading up to the gym, the revolving main door with black brush along the bottom edge — all of them are still vivid in my head, permanently lodged in my memories…
Writing about a city, just as writing about any subject, is a way of documenting it within history, for giving it a voice, for making it human almost, letting it breathe and move and speak. It may have dreams, it may have fears, it may have flaws and disease…
The sum of the cafe spaces in Abu Dhabi exist as microcosms of the city itself. They can be places where a wide variety of people from different social classes, ethnicities, cultures and nationalities can come together over a cup of coffee (or karak or Moroccan mint tea) and exchange dialogue, make conversation, learn and thrive off each other, whether that’s intellectually or culturally, or just make idle chit-chat and simply be. And isn’t that a miniature prototype of Abu Dhabi itself and the “multicultural crossroads” we all love to speak of in the brochures?
Umbrella City Brunelleschi’s Duomo is a reluctant traveler through time. It started as half an egg shell standing unevenly on a table surrounded by dumbstruck architects. The humility of it! And then it grew, nourished by devotion and determination. People watered it with prayers. And it grew into the center of Florentine life. Brunelleschi’s […]
the south american continent somewhere like a slice of bread
ready for the touch of a knife. cut
and spread the shrimp soft pink like a tongue
once bled from a continent buttered up
with a colonial language.