More Misadventures of the Cute and Blonde

I had a wonderful Christmas with my parents after all, and an exciting New Year with my best friend from college. Now have some holiday greetings from all the holidays that I failed to mark on this blog.

Happy Hanukkah! Blessed Solstice! Merry Christmas! Happy New Year! and Eid Mubarak!

Yes, that's right. I said Eid Mubarak! I went to my local yemeni grocery store to get some goodies for a New Year's party, and coincidentally, the first day of Eid al-Adha, one of two major Muslim holidays, was December 30. I saw everyone pouring out of the mosque down the street after noon prayer in their new formal clothes, and I imagined scenes of chaos at mothers having to chase their young sons through the house to make them put on ties. This particular mosque seemed to have a nearly exclusively Arab congregation, and I tried to pretend that I was in the Middle East for a moment, until I got distracted by the rusted fire escapes, seagulls, and signs in Chinese.

I had a lovely chat, as always, in Arabic with the Yemeni proprietress of the store, full of hugs and free tea. Another lady overheard and was delighted at the novelty of a blonde girl speaking Arabic. The shop was small, and the aisles were narrow. Soon we had attracted many stares and quizzical glances from the line of customers come in to pick up their fresh lamb. Could they believe their eyes? Could they believe their ears?

One man dared to approach us. He stood caddy corner to me for some moments, before asking the female customer, tentatively, "Is she married?", referring to me.

"No, no I don't think so." She looked at me briefly. "She doesn't look like she's married."

Bright red in mortified embarrassment, I backed into a safe corner between the butcher's counter and the dairy case. Asking an intermediary to ask me if I'm married is the culturally-appropriate first step to a serious marriage offer, and if a man is considering marriage, then chances are he also has other things on his mind. I suddenly felt quite naked in my stretch jeans and form-fitting jacket. Maybe there is something to be said for wearing an abaya after all.

"You speak Arabic, right?" asked the man.

"Of course I speak Arabic! How could I have been talking to her in Arabic if I don't know it?" I fumed, wishing he would leave me alone. I instinctively refrained from making eye contact while I spoke, lest my 'seductive gaze' give him the wrong impression.

"Is she Moroccan?" asked a second man.

"No, she's American, and she's speaking Saudi [dialect.]" (I do wonder what it is that makes people think I'm Moroccan, as that's not the first time I've gotten that question.)

I finally managed to make it to the counter and pay for my purchases. I thought that I could safely make it out of the store, when I was detained by an additional posse of men sitting in chairs by the door wanting to ask me personal questions. At least they were my age.

I hereby present a list of rules for any potential suitors:

1. If you are younger than me, the difference must only be a few months. If older, you must be under 30 (ie no more than 8 years older). The man who was after me was too old. Ick. :P

2. You must be the same height or taller, at least 5'8", which coincidentally disqualifies most men of Yemeni origin.

3. You must be in this country legally by the time I sign that marriage license. I can wait for the formalities to be resolved, but I will not be barred from employment on a conviction for aiding and abetting immigration fraud.

4. I want at least one child. Two are ideal, three are acceptable, and I will be seriously unhappy with more. No large family for me, thank you.

5. My kids either get my religion, or they get to pick in the event of differing religious practices among their parents.

6. You must have a college education, or seriously working on one. I understand that many people in the age range I have outlined are still working on their degrees for whatever reason (traditional school age, illness, working through school, military service, etc.), and demonstrating determination and progress towards that degree counts.

7. You must be doing something with your life, and not be loafing around all day. Being a house-husband, however, is work, and is perfectly acceptable. ;)

8. You must not have an abusive temper

9. You have to eat my cooking

10. I think you should have to understand what it's like to spend a certain amount of time outside of your own culture. And like it. Note that I am not specifying the culture, but having that experience would help to better understand me.

11. I have to get to know you before I agree. No matchmakers and arranged marriages for me!

I'll probably end up married to a (Muslim) of Indian origin engineer of some sort, and he'll get transferred to Riyadh, and I'll have to suffer through life in Riyadh. When Jordanian taxi drivers got too friendly, and more recently Yemeni clothing salesmen, I used to tell them that my husband was an engineer in Riyadh and we were on vacation. My karma for lying so blatantly will probably be to end up in that situation in reality. Since many engineers in Saudi Arabia are Indian Muslims, there you go. Although if he looked like Shahrukh Khan, then that wouldn't be so bad...