http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yRAbE5--cjA

I am so excited about this. This is my animated artwork.  There will be four more InshAllah. Follow the link in the title to see it.

My Obsession with Fashafeesh

Fashafeesh is the name I invented for corn puff snacks. The Fashafeesh industry in Egypt is actually quite large. Many companies have them on the market. A very popular company is called Flaminco Snack Food Co.

The problem is that I don't know the source of these products. I don't know if they've passed the tests needed. I don't know if they're mechanically packaged. They don't advertise. They don't have an identity. These types of Fashafeesh are found only at certain kiosks. They aren't sophisticated enough to be sold at regular super markets alongside cheetos and lays. 

On the back of the packet the following is written:

INGREDIENTS 

CORN MEAL - OIL

Cheedr Cheese (The spelling mistake is actually there)

Salt- Natural color

Produced by 

FLAMINCO SNACK FOOD CO.

Made in Egypt

Good for 3 months from production date.

I turned the pack over and over and tried looking for a production date printed on the pack...there wasn't any. There was also no nutritional information. Just a bad print of Winnie the Pooh and Tiger in each other's arms holding corn. Gay...

My problem with the Fashafeesh is that I'm obsessed with them. I just love the airy crunch that you get when you bite into one. They way they take seconds to dissolve in your mouth. The infinite number of Fashafeeshes in one pack. It like a never ending pack of crisps. Each snack is crispier than the one before. They taste cheesy and they smell like old socks. My family hates it when I bring them home. But something is keeping me hooked onto those little devils.

Yesterday I was hanging out with my father. There is a very small kiosk that is a three minute walk away from where my dad lives. Note that that smaller the kiosk, the bigger the chance that they've got Fashafeesh in stock. I went and bought three giant packs, two sodas and gum. (You need gum after eating Fashafeesh because they tend to stick to your molars and only gum or a sufficient amount of gargling can get rid of them). They also make your hands turn orange, so you have to wash your hand very well after you finish eating them.

As I walked in, my family obviously needed some entertainment. Someone asked for some Fashafeesh as I ripped open the bag. I gave them a pack for  themselves.Then went and sat down,keeping one on my lap. The munching started.

Five minutes later. Everyone was hooked. The crunching sounds filled the room. So did the smell of old socks. But nobody seemed to mind. The corn puffs were just so good, no one could stop. I was afraid they'd finish the pack I'd given them, and turn to mine.

They did. I couldn't understand it. First they make fun of me for liking the stuff, then they want to share. 

Egyptian Sushi

I'm a fan of food. I love food. Everyone who knows me knows that I like to try anything and everything. Of course when I say try. It means giving a certain food at least three shots at three different places before I finally decide that I dislike it. Or like it for that matter. Some foods however I've only tried once.

Sushi was something that I only tried once. I believe that the sushi I tried wasn't authentic. Something about the maki roll felt Egyptian. Even though the restaurant name was called JO SUSHI. I ordered California Rolls. They were just clumps of rice stuffed with cucumber. No sea weed. No wasabi. No chopsticks. I felt betrayed. I decided that this Sushi didn't count.

I starting asking around as to were would be the best place that makes sushi. Someone recommended a place called Makani. I was surprised. Makani was a cafe. They sold muffins and cheese salad. Why would they be serving sushi over there? That same person recommended I try the crispy chicken and mozzarella roll. Then I realized what was going on. Egyptian Sushi. It was everywhere. It was a new trend. 

I wanted to try the real stuff. It was no where to be found. 

It happened that I was discussing this with my neighbor. How much I wanted to try sushi and how every where I went the sushi wasn't authentic. Then her friend (who was hanging out with us) said, "I've tried sushi once with my husband at a Japanese place."

"Really? How was it?"

"Oh I didn't really like it.."

"Which one did you order?"

"The steamed rice and some stir fried something. I can't really remember..."

(Pause)  "That's not sushi. Sushi is clumps of rice. Stuffed with something.."

The girl looked disappointed...She had so wanted to be the person who tried sushi so she can brag about it. I had spoiled her plan.

"That was just some other japanese dish you tried," I tried to make her feel better. 

"I thought all Japanese food was called sushi."

I felt sorry for her. Then it hit me. Sushi was the new trend. Liking sushi was the new "in" thing. That's why everyone was obsessing about it. That's why it was sold everywhere now. It was selling. Wannabes were buying it. They thought they liked what was being sold as sushi but wasn't sushi. Or were they just pretending to like it because they wanted to belong to the "in" crowd? 

One time I observed one person covering his roll with ketchup and mustard so he wouldn't taste it as he pretended to like it.... sad.

So, I don't know what really bothers me more. The fact that suddenly everyone loves sushi, or the fact that the sushi they love isn't sushi.

I decided that I have to fly to Japan if I wanted to try real sushi. Or maybe just wait until some new place opens up and starts serving it proper....

Customer Service

I have been recently exposed to customer service during a temporary job that I took up because I wanted to learn something new. The thing that I was mostly impressed by learning is the fact that customers remember bad service experiences and almost never remember good service experiences. I also learned that my supervisor is a butt crack.

Having said that. I finally understood the meaning of being a customer. I also understood what it was like being a customer service agent. For during my brief stay at X, I had encountered various customer types. Most of which were calling to complain. Never during my stay had I encountered one customer who called to compliment the company on what a great service they've been providing. However, one customer did say thank you and was very pleased to have her problem solved. I put done the phone, pushed the "Not Ready" button, and decided to just savour the moment. I was beaming. In the middle of all the hot tempered, nasty calls, this woman's "thank you" had made my day. I treated myself to an instant Frappucino. With extra caramel, whipping cream, sugar, spice and everything nice.

After my experience, I became more aware that I was a bitch of a customer myself. I noticed that when I ordered a sundae from Mac Donald's a few weeks ago. When I got my order I noticed that the sundae had melted into a little pool around the caramel area. Infuriated, I picked up the phone and dialed the customer service. I complained that my sundae had turned liquid and that I wanted a new one. The agent tried to explain that ice cream is supposed to melt. That the warm caramel sauce causes the ice cream to melt. That is was impossible to deliver sundaes without them slightly melting. He was talking sense. But I didn't want to listen. I wanted my caramel sundae NOW. He apologized and I hung up telling him that I was never going to eat at Mac Donald's ever again.

A few days later I realized how absurd I've been.

A few weeks later I decided to give it another shot. I placed my order. In less than thirty minutes the sundae was at my door. The pool around the caramel was minimal. The rest of the food was hot. I was thrilled. 

Digging into my Fillet-O-Fish (Why don't they just call it Mac-Fish?), I remembered my previous experience and how angry I had been. But I was happy now. 

Then I remembered. Customers always called to complain. I decided that I would make a difference. I would call to compliment!

I speed dialed and switched to the customer service department. An agent picked up.

"Good Evening. Thank you for calling Mac Donald's. How may I help you?"

"Umm..yeah.. I just got my order, and I wanted to comment.."

"Umm yes, please go on (I could hear it in his tone that he was dreading it)

"I got my order and I wanted to say that it arrived on time, the food was hot, the sundae was perfect"

" (Brief silence) .... Oh, Thank you!"

"And you also sent this little "Do Not Disturb" door knob thingie. I loved that, I think it's very nice." (The truth is I didn't love it but I wanted to see what would happen if I said that I did."

"Oh..Thank you! Thank you! Shokran! Merci! Merci!" The guy couldn't believe it. I could swear he was hopping up and down.

"Okay, well, thank you, goodbye"

I put the phone down and I was smiling from ear to ear. 

I had made someone's day. That was the best Mac I've ever had.

Why blog?

It's the urge you get when you really want to talk about something and you just can't find the right person to listen. When you have some interesting thought or story. When you just really want to let the world know about something. When you suddenly get a desperate urge to write. When you just have nothing to do. When you spend so much time alone. When you spend so much time with people. When you want to be heard.

That's why I'll blog.

Every time something exciting happens. Every time I need to comment on something. When I read a book I'm excited about. When I have a question that doesn't need to be answered, but needs to be asked.

My blog will be my friend. That means I need to visit it often. I'll tell everything. About me. About others. About things and places. Whenever I tell me self "Oh, I need to put that in my blog" I'll have this place to come to.