Beyond the doors: Part 4

Note: I figure there will probably be 7 or 8 posts to tell this long story, which extends into another visit with her. Just sayin' Also, I went to the MOVIES tonight. By myself. First time since being here. I saw some Hindi movie - loved it. I love when virtue and marriage prevail, especially when lot's of music, great clothes, and beautiful people are on the screen. I know. I'm a nerd. As I was walking home, three Hindi women that had seen me in the theater (there were the four of us and one other person), picked me up in their car, and gave me a ride home. Can you say "Night of culture" AND I am getting my first henna lesson on Sunday. Hooray! And just for laughs, I'll tell you that the film, like, slipped or whatever it is. Remember when we were kids and the film would get off track a bit and a small part of the bottom would be at the top for just a second until the film guy could fix it? Yep. Reel to reel - baby. Oh yea, the subtitles were out of focus a bit too, that was a bummer. But I got the idea. Now on with the story...

“Do you cook for your family?”

“Of course. I have many children. Who else would cook for them?” I say.

“Every day? You cook for them?” Fatimah wants to know.

“Yes. Every day.”

“And ‘they’ say Americans don’t cook.” She says with a laugh. I laughed too.

“Well. You should hear what people say about you.” I say. “I know”, she says, “We are all tourists.”

I am confused. Then, “Ohhhh. You mean terrorists. Yes. That is true. Many people do think this. But really, you can’t blame them. Can you?” I laugh. “But around here, we all want to know if you use toilet paper and what exactly you do with that little hose.” Fatimah proceeds to tell me that they hose themselves clean after each use of the bathroom, but that, yes, they do use toilet paper as well. She said, “My mother could not sleep in a house that didn’t have toilet paper. How do you clean yourselves if you don’t use a hose every time you use the toilet?”

“Well. We use toilet paper. And we shower every day to keep clean, “ I tell her. She didn’t seem very convinced. But I’ll tell you, I’ve seen enough bathrooms here to tell you that their plan could not even BEGIN to be as hygienic as they think it is. Not to mention their squatting toilets – holes in the floor. But like I said, tolerance is the key. Almost all bathrooms have at least one Western toilet and then the rest of the stalls have a square ceramic tray with a hole about five inches around with two treaded foot rests next to the hole. I try to avoid these at all cost.

The conversation moved on, thankfully, and I showed her pictures of my family and home, one of which had Santa Claus in the picture. Pointing, she said, “This man, here. What is it called when he comes?” Any religious talk here is against the law, and with what is going on in Pakistan with Christians, I decided to explain, but just a little, fearing of disrespecting her religion. So the explanation was very brief, I reiterated that this man is ‘pretend’ – and chose not to tell her what Christmas is really all about. And I can almost bet you, she truly has no idea the reason we celebrate the holiday. For the modern day of technology, I continue to be amazed at how little people know about other cultures and religion; even at myself. A while later, while in another room, she turned on the T.V. show Friends. “I love this show,” she said. How could a person possibly watch Friends and have no idea who Santa was or what Christmas was? It was a strange idea to wrap my head around. I did tell her that show isn’t how we all live in the U.S. Sometimes, it’s no wonder other cultures really misunderstand each other. Cable television is doing a number on all of us.

She called for the maid again, this time bringing two big pots. One with coffee and one with tea. Well, as you know, I don’t drink either. I gratefully refused, explaining that I didn’t drink these things for religious purposes, after she had REALLY wanted me to try the coffee. “It’s against my religion, I’m SURE you can understand that.” Right after that, the maid brought a large tray of delicious looking homemade savory breads. Made with labna and zatar, a cheese and herb combination that everyone here eats. It can range from really good, to reaaaaally gross. These looked delicious and knew it wouldn’t disappoint. But just as Fatimah held the fancy, silver tray up for me to take one she said, “Eat. These are homemade and very good. And you are overweight, so you will eat these.”

Gulp.

What does one say to a comment like this, especially while being offered food? “You. Are. Over. Weight.” Ouch. Oh well. I laughed it off and said, “I know I’m overweight. I have many children, I am nursing my baby also. But I am trying.” I felt the need to apologize and explain. Why? Probably because in our culture this is not a position we are placed in. Can you imagine someone saying this to another person? Someone they just invited to their home? The word I have truly come to know the true meaning of here, is tolerance. I HAVE to adjust my mind to understand where any of these people are coming from. And I realized later, that this comment is as normal to her as saying, ‘you have long hair’ or ‘you have brown eyes.’ It just, IS what it IS.

But I don’t have to like it.