By Armi Menorca  

I am a library volunteer, and this is my open book. As the world gets smaller (and warmer), I organized my great escape. It’s an entire library.

I have always thought of a library as the cradle of knowledge, and working at a children’s public library bears more weight to the thought. This cozy little corner pinned along the stretch of Arabian Gulf Street is a playground for young thinkers, with its top shelf collection of English, Arabic and international books. During the first few chapters of my work, I realized chatting with kids is like reading an ambiguous book and answering loads of hypothetical questions—with a side serving of random gossip about the neighbor’s chatty cats. They come from different parts of the world, each carrying with them the stories of their people (the kids, not the cats). I like it when people go to places like the library during summer instead of basking under the summer sun in a luxurious beach resort abroad. After all, that’s what a summer getaway is for. You get away from summer. But there are a few days of hide-and-seek, as well, when kids take a break from their reading spree. These days are as dark as the Onceler’s soul, making me want to give up at times. But I’m not the one to raise the white flag that easily, no no no. The kids have yet to supply us with their never-ending swashbuckling adventures in Failaka or their knock-knock falafel jokes. So I wait, making sure that the bookworms are well-fed and dusted.

I recall when I was younger, the school library was my first best friend, and challenged books, my first heartbreak.

Fast-forward to today, libraries are sandwiched between devices fed with autocorrects and BRBs. Some might argue that books don’t stand a chance against toddlers, too, but I digress. I think some books don’t mind getting poked at by tiny, sticky fingers. Even one of the books reverse-psyched its prospective readers by saying “don’t touch this dot” while wagging a big red dot on their faces. And some collections even have resident puppets inside the pages for toddlers to stick their hands into, drool and all. But I think toddlers are a whole new species. They see a book and they see a toy, a stool, or a snack. Once upon a time, there was a book that was so good it was devoured by a hungry one-year-old munchkin in the city of Ozgard. The End. I guess it becomes a bragging right for parents in later conversations. “My three-year-old can recite the A, B, Cs.” “Yeah, but can they swallow a whole book?”

In my eyes, volunteering in a library is not a lost cause. I’m pumped to see screen-plastered children finally befriending printed books, making dog ears on random pages as they go. Add to that the joy of lending hands to fellow volunteers. Young and old kids would huddle next to me as we land on an island where the wild things are or tail down a boy named Harold and his magical purple crayon. Other days, we just sit by the bookshelves waiting for a hat-wearing cat to bust the door. But, alas, the Grimms’ dragons still lurk behind the tattered pages. And when our browsing and skimming come to an end, we settle down with one wordless book, the one that guarantees a chorus of “oooohhhs” and “wooooows” from the young readers.

My favorite part of the library is the multilingual shelf. From Greek and Armenian to Japanese and Spanish, we get to join in a dialogue of cultures. Some books are written in their original languages; some are translations from English or Arabic. Either way, I love watching kids discover the workings of a mother tongue different than theirs, the languages of the world, some of which we hear every day in Maliya. It’s like traveling to other places aboard unfamiliar words. Add to that some gibberish when a baby joins the chat. And voilà! You have a book club of many sounds.

But here’s the twist ending.

Volunteering in a children’s library made me realize I’m a grown up reuniting with the inner child in me. I believe serving a far greater cause is the best thing about doing community outreach, besides gaining experience or passing the time. In this little library, I get to witness the wisdom of the youth and be part of the stories where little ones can defeat the monsters purely with their own minds.   

Armi Menorca, is a library volunteer at the Amricani Cultural Center Children’s Library (DAI Museum), a creative writer in various local newspapers and magazines, as well as an artist and published author.