Muslims in the Attic

April 18, 2009

Big Mistakes

Filed under: Uncategorized — alfie @ 7:00 pm

Yesterday, some dingus commented that I was a like a total fraud because I couldn't have been in first grade for only 15 minutes on September 11th. School started at least a week earlier that year, said the dingus…

I didn't know what to say. I was only six and I only remembered the part about the teacher and the 15 minutes. It was bugging me. So I asked my Pedar.

Pedar said I had Chicken Pox in August (I don't even remember), but he kept me home till I wasn't contagious anymore. One week.

But I made a big mistake in asking him. He asked me why I asked and I told him about the blog (I can't lie to him!) and he said I have to stop until things are better outside. I'm sorry to everyone.

Maybe in the future…

 

[To MoxieDangerous, thanks for all the kind words. I'll email you privately…]

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April 17, 2009

Relax!

Filed under: Uncategorized — alfie @ 2:09 am

Shiza. I mean, it's not like you're the ones stuck in the attic. With all the attention and hits I'm getting, I just wanted to say relax! I'm just a kid. I didn't choose any of this.

And before you go commenting on stuff you don't understand (you know who you are! comments are now moderated!), try reading my actual blog entries in order, okay?

I can't tell you any more, so stop asking. But whatever I do say (except my name) is true. I swear. I'm putting up a few pictures to make you understand.

tg2.jpg

hall.jpg

me.jpgYou all have no idea what it's like being me, or being here, or being Muslim (most of you). Most of all, I'm American. Most of all, I'm just a kid. I just want to ride my bike and play games like everyone else.

God, if my pedar finds out I'm blogging again (or worse, someone finds us out), don't expect me to keep this up. I'll try to find another way. I'm sorry. I need to go.

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April 15, 2009

Welcome, Again!

Filed under: Uncategorized — alfie @ 10:31 am

Muchos cheerios to MoxieDangerous for the kind words and links on their totally ding(!) blog.

Wow! My bandwidth stats just jumped, not that we're paying the bills anymore… (see: wishlist #2). Thank <mercy> WordPress.com is still free.

For those of you joining late, my name is Alfie Fatiri and this is my secret little corner of the blogosphere.

No, that's not my real name. And no, I'm not going to tell you what it is or where I live or even what I look like. I'm not that stupid.

Well, maybe I am for telling you about my life. I just like feeling normal, even if I have to go through, like…

No. I'm not going to tell you how many anonymous proxies and open relays and what kind of crazy encryption I have to use. It's NOYB, NEWB!

I will say that I'm fourteen, single, (yes, and stop sending me stupid letters, dingus. I'm not interested!), Muslim, and I used to live somewhere in the Northeast U.S., close enough to a major camp to be nervous, which is why we have to be so careful. Right now, my Pedar, my sister and me all live in a friend's attic, which is teh suxxors.

(Pedar means father, BTW, but he's like a mother too.)

Please don't offer us stuff (other than moral support and maybe some free bandwidth…). We have no safe way of getting packages and some of you could be Homeland Sekurity or the Intimidation and Neutralization Service in disguise. Not that we're illegal aliens or anything. At least being Muslim didn't used to be illegal.

If you want to do something nice for us middle-eastern American types, go blog about the camps!

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March 29, 2009

The Daily Grind

Filed under: Uncategorized — alfie @ 11:18 am

Not much to report today. I hand-washed our laundry down in the basement as usual. TBD helped me out and we talked about school and sports (briefly) and then about how great Farah is and how great the war isn't.

TBD and I are totally different, I guess. But I can't help feeling like I've known him forever.

There we were, alone, together, standing six inches apart, slippery and wet up to the elbows, and it was total torture for me. I just wanted to kiss him or go dunk my head in the sink.

But like I said, we're so different. He really likes Farah… And so it goes.

Nothing much to report today.

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March 11, 2009

Mood: I hate them all

Filed under: Uncategorized — alfie @ 1:02 am

I remember the bomb much better than 9/11, because I was like twelve. I had my own phone and I could watch the news like everyone else. I remember how they kept showing the big black cloud boiling up, turning itself inside out with senseless, unthinking rage. They showed that cloud over and over again and it killed us each time.

They couldn't get pictures of the ground because no one would fly that close. But satellites showed where the cloud was moving and who should stay indoors and who should run away.

And there was this one picture I remember most: this little girl stood at the end of a highway tunnel, the one in Brooklyn I think. She was black, or maybe half-black, maybe even Persian, but only a little darker than me. It was hard to tell with all the soot. The whole tunnel was practically destroyed.

I remember thinking how lucky she was.

The speedboat targeted the Brooklyn Bridge, they said. Everything in a quarter-mile circle was gone, bridges, buildings, just gone. But the water shielded her, I guess. Most people in the tunnel drowned or burned or got smoked to death. Someone must have carried her out, from right under ground zero.

She stood there at the entrance, alone, shadowed against a smoldering gray skyline, too scared to move, too scared to cry.

Pedar said the terrorists waited for a day when the wind blew north into Manhattan. He said they wanted to get everyone.

I hate terrorists. I hate them all.

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February 14, 2009

Afterthought

Filed under: Uncategorized — alfie @ 3:28 am

It's weird, isn't it? It's like Valentine's day and all. And I have this HUGE thing for TBD (the boy downstairs) but he has this HUGE thing for my sister and but she doesn't know it and it's all weird and stuff. And my Pedar is sitting by the window crying quietly and we all pretend not to notice. And I can't even tell you their real names or what they look like. I can tell you the color of my underwear (white, Hanes) but I can't even tell you my own name.

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Current Song: Silence

Filed under: Uncategorized — alfie @ 3:12 am

We don't have much of a view from the attic window, more of a vent than a window. It's still better than that old basement and definitely better than the camps. At least this is warm and dry. I wish I could post a panoramic photo or something, but I can't. Okay, you're curious. I'll describe:

I see a room, about thirty feet long and twenty feet wide, shaped kind of like a cross. The roof slopes down to the floor and the pink insulation is showing like my sister's old pajamas. It's like living in a giant pink pyramid, which might be ironic if we were Egyptian, but alas. And it smells like mothballs, 'cept I never found any. It's the ghost of mothballs.

Like I said, it beats the camps. We can even go downstairs sometimes, to use the bathroom and stuff. But we have to be xtra careful. We also have to watch that we don't use much water or electricity, cause someone might be watching the utility bills for, you know, 'suspicious activity.' Like someone's going to undermine our fearless gub'ment by flushing too much…

I wish I could tell you everything. It makes me feel better to talk, to know there's one or two people out there who actually care enough to read this. Maybe some of you are just curious how a whole family can hide out in an attic for six months with all the crap going on outside. Honestly, I wouldn't blame you.

But putting this up on the web, who knows who else might read it? And we all know what happened to those protestors. God, my Pedar doesn't even know I'm doing this. He's got enough to worry about. If he thought I might get tear gassed too…

Anyway, like I said, I need to be more careful.

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February 10, 2009

Mood: Reflective

Filed under: Uncategorized — alfie @ 7:26 pm

I was six years old when the towers fell. I was in first grade for only fifteen minutes when it happened. Our teacher ran out of the room crying when she heard and no one told us why.

Someone told me later that her husband worked on the 89th floor. I heard they lived on the Lower East Side too. But not anymore, I guess. I don't know if Ms. Rodriguez had any kids of her own, but she seemed really nice for those fifteen minutes.

I never went back to class. My Pedar took me and Farah home and we studied from there. We were lucky for that much at least.

The school was in the East Village. If we'd lived in the Bronx with my Madar's sister, we might have gotten sick from the cloud too. If we lived in Manhattan… Well, we could never afford to live in Manhattan and now no one can. I have to go now. I promise to post again soon.

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