Djokovic in Qatar in 2018

 

Some of the best tennis players in the world experiencing Qatari hospitality during the photoshoot at Katara Cultural Village in Doha, Qatar. #atp #qatartennis #exxonmobil2019 @djokernole @stanwawrinka85 @domithiem pic.twitter.com/NX1RYwVS3f

— Qatar Tennis Federation (@QatarTennis) December 30, 2018

 So much distressed  about the bad treatment of this  great sportman in Australia !   He was  in Qatar  three   years  ago .

 Who  had thought then  what dark times are  coming !  Better  days  for   everyone ! 

The library of my childhood

It was a dark November 🍂 afternoon when I was walking with my mom somewhere at our large compound . Passing near the cultural center I saw a lots of books 📖 and people  inside .

- What is this place ? - I asked

- The library - my mother answered . For a very small fee one can read the books there or even can take them home !

- Really ? - I asked happily 😊

- Yes - and even children can be a member . But now it is too late . We are about to move 🚚 to another town . Once settled I will take you
to their library .I promise .

It was a real WOW feeling just to learn about the existence of such facility .( I could compare it to the moment when I learned to ride my bike 🚲.) But even to be a member ! It was far beyond all my expectations !
I was seven and half and I already read all our books . Then the neighbours' books . Then I was starving and ready to devour any book I come across .I was waiting for my summer holiday visiting cousins and I was planning to read their books . Or a birthday , name day or something similar .

The existence of the library opened a new perspective to my life ☼. I praised in myself the one who invented it .I just wished to have something similar for toys and games . But my mom informed me that facility does not exists .


Moving to another town was a real cultural shock . The landscape , the people were so different .☹ But my mom kept her promise and took me to the library . That was a wonderful place ☺.It was in the town center   in an old historical building . Downstairs children's library - upstairs library for the big ones .

We had a really nice sized collection . Old books were well maintained not discarded . I read a lot .
As a result I became a ✍ good writer .Essay writing was always an easy job for me . Walking home from school the sentences ,ideas formed by themselves in my mind . I just had to write them down when arriving home .

My very best friend whom I met at age 12 was also a bookworm . We visited the library together , would read at home cracking apples . Discussing the stories after .One year later we found no books to read downstairs we read them all . So we were allowed to be a member of the library upstairs. But often returned to the kids section for its special atmosphere .

And the kids library just improved year after year . The new librarians were not only advising kids about what to read but they were ready to chat with them . They could tell them about their problems , they helped them with their home works .They provided them a shelter for the afternoons if conditions at their homes were not favorable . They organized competitions , they made some puppets and performed operas with them using their audio collection . Those librarians were real fairies .
We were very lucky .
When visiting cities later in my life I noticed that those city libraries were quite different .So impersonal and less inviting than our town's libraries .

Later it was declining - the libraries did not get much money to buy new books . It was quite sad . Especially to learn how little money our "fairies" made . They retired with very small pension . The new librarians were not similar to them . But the Internet attracted a lots of kids who could not afford it .

Yeah - when I grew up the Internet came and I "owned" whole libraries in my room . That was a real wow feeling but this is another story .

P.S. similar facility for toys and games opened when I was in my twenties - my kids visited it and liked it very much ...

The Hippie and the conductor

Everything was fun on the train .I enjoyed the speed ,the tunnels ,the buffet , the magazine for kids , the conversation of the adults ,the view of Lake Balaton .There used to be only one thing I hated : the conductor .She /He used to come with a grim face "tickets please " then my parents always got scared as they had something to fear -and served her/him our tickets .he/She checked them with superiority and gave them back then I saw my parents getting relief .Other passengers used to behave  the same way .It was weird all in all .
Once a strange man entered our compartment : he was barefoot ,he had big beard and long hair .He was wearing striped jeans and a waste coat without anything under just his bare skin .
"Can I sit here ?" -he had asked with docile face .
Everybody had a shock on his face -but they answered : "yes ,you can ."
There was a big silence after that .The man with a strange look closed his eyes - and fell asleep or at least he pretended to do so ."hippie " the passengers whispered to each other .
Half an hour later the conductor came : Tickets !!!
The man did not react .She shook him very much .When he opened his eyes he looked innocently to her ."Ticket ?"
He checked all his pockets .There were a lot in his jeans and bag .He was quiet and did not seemed to be scared at all .Everybody was mute .When he finished checking all  his outfit  then he told to the conductor :"it seems that I do not have ticket " - everybody was scared hearing about such a big mistake but him .
The conductor was scared  from his tranquility as well .In her most polite voice she just answered :" Then please leave the train at the next stop "
So he did . After he left I asked my mum about him : "a hippie" she answered smiling .
 Then I admired him very much and at once I decided to be a hippie when I grow up and I will never be afraid of anybody especially not of big headed conductors ...

Sweet Memories by almawad
See other Strawberry Photo Cards

Christmas story or the ugly book's tale

 1970 was a pretty difficult year .   My father saw no other way to   rise the family's living standard  than going to the capital to study  for a year  in hope of getting a better position   . It made us suffer financially and emotionally as well .  How much I missed  him ! He came home just for a short visit for the weekends . On Sundays he had to leave  us right after our lunch . After kissing him good-bye at the bus station my mum was walking home with grim face – then before arriving home she burst out crying .  Usually , I  could not help  crying with her - we were sobbing in the street . The next door women were laughing at us .” Hey ,are you crazy ? /” He is coming back next week – he didn't go to war , but to college ."

It was hard for my mum .She was left alone with three  little kids and very little money .My father had to concentrate on his studies . We had to suffer for a better future .

Christmas was very near and my mother had very little money for presents . She hoped to get something unexpected : bonus or some money from my father – but nothing came .She had to arrange all the presents somehow on her own means ..
The shops were going to close and remain closed for Christmas time when
my mother ran to the toy shop : she had found a wooden toy car for my little brother and a doll for me – after paying she was left with very little money .” could you suggest something for a nine year old boy ?” she asked „for this money we've a book „ she had pointed to a ugly looking book with grey cover in the shop window . It was meant for summer visitors – a travel book on lake Balaton at discount price .
„ No „ was the first reaction of my mum „ „ it can not be a present for him „
We do not have anything else -and sorry we are closing „ Are you taking the book or not ?”

My mother recognized that she had no other option . She bought an ugly looking discount priced book for her first born son . What will he say when he sees it under the tree? What a life ! How far were her dreams from the reality !

My father arrived  just some hours before exchanging gifts .He was not scared at all  when my mum told him about the book .” I will arrange that „ he had told her with confidence . (They never lied us about the presents – it was always clear for us that they bought it or they prepared them on their own .)

„ My son „ „ You get no toys this winter , because we thought with your mum that you are big enough to have a book instead – and not any book but a book written for adults . I consider that you are smart enough to read it and tell us later about it" 
That was my father's trick .
 And  it worked wonderfully ! My brother was not disappointed but proud !He started to read as soon as he found some free time . And the book  despite its ugly cover turned out to be very interesting : it told stories ,legends on the origin of the mountains and hills surrounding us . We had lived in Tapolca basin surrounded by so many different type of mountains . He had learned a lot about them .First he told these stories only  for us at home . Then he shared his knowledge with his buddies as well .Finally he became famous in the neighbourhood as an expert of mountains -and often even adults stopped him and asked him to tell about the story of this or that mountain .

When they asked amazed:where did you learn all this ?: he answered proudly : from a book I got for Christmas .

Epiloge

My brother is in his fourtiies nowadays and he still knows a lot on that area ,he loves the books and had learnt a lots of different hobbies merely from books wihtout tutors .And of course he still remembers with pleasure to that ugly looking book ...