the same, everywhere. At the end of the time we spend together, we all leave with a bit of sadness but a lot more joy, having made so many new friends and met some kindred souls. I also spoke about how a festival can become a wonderful way for the hosting city to become known beyond its national borders. Not only through news, or videos, but through the magic of the social media and the curiosity of our followers and readers to know where we’ve been, and how was it. This article is one small proof of this.
After that, the next 2 days were full of various events and sites where we read and shared, including various faculties in Tanta University, other schools and cafés, the Writers Union, and the same Tanta Palace of Culture where the inauguration had been held. Besides the poetry recitals, there were some interesting panels on the Poet and Exile, and the Poet and Translation, and a special memorial session for the late poet Mahmoud Maghraby.
I have to say that most events were in arabic, so I missed a lot. In fact, even now, I was just looking for translations of Maghraby’s poetry, but I found none. During the readings, only the poems by the non-Arabic speaker poets like me (in total there were six of us, two from Mexico, the rest from the US, Italy, Spain and Denmark) were read both in our native languages and then in the Arabic translation made by various scholars and poets friends of the Tanta Festival. It was a pity, but in reality, at least for me, it didn’t matter much if I didn’t speak or understood it all. It didn’t matter before I left my country, and it didn’t matter once I was there. The melodic sound and their expressive gestures, were enough; the constant jokes and the following laughter always made me laugh as well. I would hear their loud arguments, followed by a hug a two kisses, one on each cheek, and wonder what it was all about, and yet it was not important in the end. Of course, some of the poets and volunteers were able to muster some English. The fact that I am bilingual and a translator allowed me to help them with their lack of dominance of the language and I was able to guess correctly the meaning or intention, closing the circle of communication. During the above mentioned event in memory of Maghraby there was an open poetry forum which I was unable to attend in its entirety; but before it started I spoke with some very young poets (some of them still in High School) allowing me to continue to establish bridges and connections between our two continents. That is why I am writing this review for Sid’s Opened Lips!