Beyond the Doors: Part 7

I know it's been awhile, but I have made it a goal to catch up on my experiences with Fatimah. Most of my feedback comes from these stories; so here you go. My grammar is bad, spelling worse, and I'm too lazy to fix either. Sorry. Here's the link to the last post of Beyond the Doors, if you need an update. Enjoy!

Not too long after my visit to Fatimah’s house, she called and invited my family on out outing with her. We had spoken over the phone a few times since our visit, but had not been able to find a time to see each other in person again. She called mid-week asking if the children and I would like to go to the circus with her. “Uh. The circus?” I wasn’t sure her translation of whatever word she meant was coming through clearly. “Yes. The circus. With animals, and a tent. You know.” She said. Again, my first thought was shear hesitation. Do I want to take my family to a Middle Eastern, turned out to be Pakistani, circus? I took a big breath and said, “We’d love to. But I think Peter would like to come too.” Although somewhat disappointed at me wanting Peter to come, we decided a day and time. I realize now that she doesn’t really want my husband to be with us because then our interaction is limited. It means that if I want to be with Peter, I can’t be involved in conversation with her at the same time; for the most part anyway. But, as luck would have it, the younger children came down with the flu and Peter stayed home with them so that my two older sons could come with me.

I was very concerned at the location of the circus. I didn’t want to travel far, to an unfamiliar place, with my kids alone, and with her drive Shafiik. She offered us her driver, and I accepted not knowing how to explain the location to a driver from the camp. She told me the time he would arrive, and in true Middle Eastern fashion, he was nearly 45 minutes late. He had dropped Fatimah off at the circus, then come for us. As far as I can tell, it is proper to be late in this part of the world.

After, once again, putting our lives into the hands of a crazy man, we arrived at the circus shortly before the sunset prayer. Getting out of the car, I realized we were the ONLY western people at the location. It wasn’t too far from my home, but it was in the center of the small town that lies beyond the gates of our camp. As I searched the crowd of people dressed in all black, or all white, gathered separately, I realized I had no idea how I would find Fatimah in this small sea of cloaked women. Then I saw two black robes and two young boys heading for me. My heart always sinks when people appear to confronting me since I have moved here. I’m afraid I have done something wrong, that I won’t understand what they are saying, that there will be some kind of trouble. I am relieved when they walk on by without any problems. But this time they stopped, and the tiny little hand of Fatimah reached out from under her oversized abaya sleeve, took my hand, shook it and led me into the park where the circus was being held.

“Fatimah! I didn’t recognize you. But really, how could I?” I laughed. She giggled and said she can tell people apart, which I am sure she can, but I can’t. I took very clear mental notes while she introduced me to her sister Rajaa; height, size and style of purse, details on their abayas, how they wrapped their scarves, and every detail I could see in their eyes. These people were the only safety nets I had while I was there. If we were separated, I wasn’t sure how I would find them again – that is of course if they didn’t want to be found. Because, being the only uncovered woman there, I would be easy to find; me and my two blonde haired little boys.

Rajaa doesn’t speak any English, just ‘hello’, ‘nice to meet you’ and the like. Just about my equivalent in Arabic. But she was very excited to meet me and giggled a lot. Fatimah spent a lot of time translating back and forth “Now we are talking about”, this or that. And then the same thing in Arabic to Rajaa. As we walked into the fenced area, the ground covered with AstroTurf, I saw a big circus tent off to one side, old rickety fair rides on the other, the main walkway lined with booths with things for sale, and at the end a large tent that contained more booths for shopping inside. We decided to look around and do some shopping while we waited for prayer, and then for the show to start.

Fatimah and Rajaa had their two nephews with them, their brother’s children. This would be the first of many times I would be out with Fatimah and a young male child, as it is customary for a female to always be accompanied by a male member of the family. Even if that means a small child, they cannot be without a male escort. The boys were dressed in jeans, casual button up shirts, and tennis shoes; looking very western and cute. They were nice and polite, the two of them gave a simple head nod and smile to my boys, as did mine to them. We started making our way through the small stalls of goods for sale, and did our best to ignore the constant stares from people.

The stalls had all kinds of things for sale. Cooking items, teapots, rugs, toys for children, thobes for men, abayas and veils for women, bedding, food items and everything in between. It reminded me of an Arabic version of the county fair from the States. And inside the big white tent at the end of the walkway there was even more in store. Make-up, hair items, soaps, lotions, watches, jewelry, perfumes, incense, candy, nuts, spices, pots, pans, gizmos; really just about anything you could want. All just a little bit ‘off’. Chinese made for export to the Middle East, is different than for export to the States. Think dollar store quality of many things you’ve never seen before. Off to one end of the tent was a women only section where women were unveiled while shopping, they had actual clothing for sale there. Plus more beauty items, lingerie type items, purses, things women would like and even a place where you could get a picture taken for your loved one. I guess it was for your loved one, there was an old camera set up with a back drop. Photos are not looked upon highly in this area of the world, and I didn’t see anyone getting a picture taken.

Some of the things that most caught my eye were the ‘beauty’ items. Whitening lotion – for your skin. Lots of bleach for your body hair. Virginity soap – for your ‘sensitive areas’. Body wax, hair removal items, lots of pictures on products that seemed to be for making a person more sexy. This seemed ironic compared to what I had seen in this culture up until now. I spent most of my time awe struck at all of the items for sale. Only men worked there, as is customary in this part of the world. I was astounded at how quickly their sales pitches turned to English as I walked by. The kids and I were like kids in a candy store lured in by scents, aromas, music, candy, displays of toys; there was SO much to see. We were wide eyed and fascinated at every turn. Little did we know that our eyes were about to get much wider as we made our way to the main attraction; the circus.