I got dressed, very conservatively in light brown slacks, a purple 3/4 sleeve blouse and grabbed a cab to run errands. The cab driver was pleasantly plump with salt and pepper hair. His hands had car grease on them which made him seem very masculine to me. You don't really communicate with taxi drivers as a woman in this country. I am a totally different person than the person I am in California. I don't smile very much and have a very somber look on my face, because otherwise it's seen as an invitation to men. I sat quietly in the backseat, diagonal to the driver, and felt the hot wind blow through my hair. I love the desert. It was only 30˚ C (86˚ F). I felt like I was going to sneeze and I said to the driver "If you would, a kleenex." and I pointed to the bag of kleenex on the dash. He clumsily grabbed it, thrust it towards me and roared "of course, of course." I took one and said thank you. He pushed the bag towards me again and said "take more! it's free," and laughter erupted from deep in his fat belly. I laughed out loud and took 3 more kleenex. I folded them in 1/8s and tucked them into my purse. We got to a stop light and he turned the car off and jerked the emergency brake up. We sat in traffic for some time until the light turned green, he turned the car on and revved the engine, excessively, in my opinion. We arrived to our destination, I paid him, 1.35 dinars (less than 2 dollars), thanked him and got out. I asked the guard for directions and he pointed me to building 2. I entered building 2 and everybody was looking at me. I was the only woman within 100 mile radius not covering her hair/head. The men I asked for directions were visibly frustrated with me because they didn't know who I was looking for, Middle Eastern men don't have much patience, especially not for women.
Finally a man gave me correct directions, to building 1, and I found my way to the woman I was meeting. She was dressed in a blue trenchcoat that reached the floor and a blue hijab covered her head, the only parts of her bare body that were exposed were her face and hands. She asked me if I was Lebanese. I told her I was Syrian and she said welcome, welcome! She said you're exactly like they described you, cute, small and young! I blushed and thanked her. We entertained small talk for a few minutes and got to our meeting. A young man kept coming in, he works at the front door and his job is to simply run errands for people. This is very common in the Middle East. These people are typically minimally educated and oftentimes dim. I think it's wonderful that these people are given jobs so they feel that they are contributing to society, it gives them a sense of self worth and I think that is vital for the well-being of any human. He made a photocopy of a document for me and brought me Arabic coffee. It was poorly made, very weak, but I gratefully thanked him and drank it politely. More questions were asked and more people were fetched to run us errands. Towards the end of our meeting, the same young man was directed to bring me a cold glass of water. I thanked him and drank it. I thanked the woman who met with me, time and time and time again. Thanking her for her time with me and all her help. She told me to send my regards to my family and told me if I needed anything, to call her. She congratulated me on my cousin's wedding and wished me the best of luck with all my endeavors.
I left the building in search of a cab. Again, lots of head turns from people because my hair was showing, I presume. I stood on the side of the road for some time waiting for a taxi. The yellow taxis are private and the white taxis are group. I presume the white taxis are cheaper but I had no interest in being in a taxi full of strangers. Finally I found an empty cab that picked me up. I told him where I was going and we went on our way. This man was younger than the previous bear of a driver, I had liked him, he was sweet. This guy was fine, again, no eye contact, no small talk, no smiles. Half way through the ride, the driver sneezed and I slowly began to say Bless You. When I heard the first syllable come out of my mouth I kicked myself, I can't say that to a strange man, I know better than that! My voice grew quieter but he still heard me, he tried to look me in the eyes but my head was turned to look out the window, wearing big sunglasses and watching him in the rear view mirror, he said thank you. He took a back road to approach the house and so I had initially told him to turn left, when I saw what direction we were coming from, I said pardon me but it's actually right. He laughed out loud and gave me a lesson on the difference between right and left. I said, "yes I know but I thought you were coming from a different direction. Please pull up behind the black van." He did as instructed and asked "is this ok?" I paid him 1.5 dinars and got out of the car, thanking him on my way out.
I tried to open the door to my aunt's house but it was locked. Crap. I rang the doorbell and stood back. The door opened a crack, the maid had opened it and a huge smile came across her face. "Zally!" she lazily squealed. "Hi Lita" I said and she let me in. "Mama here, madame here." She said. I think she was trying to tell me that my aunt (other aunt, Mary) from Syria had arrived. I ran into the living room and found my aunt, my father's eldest sister reading the newspaper. Her hair is always died jet black and I've never seen her without bright red lipstick. You can see that life has worn her out but she remains elegant and composed. She asked about my work and my life, my family and my studies. We got into a heated discussion about human rights and human trafficking. I excused myself finally, I had to get some things done and she went in one of the bedrooms to lay down.
Finally a man gave me correct directions, to building 1, and I found my way to the woman I was meeting. She was dressed in a blue trenchcoat that reached the floor and a blue hijab covered her head, the only parts of her bare body that were exposed were her face and hands. She asked me if I was Lebanese. I told her I was Syrian and she said welcome, welcome! She said you're exactly like they described you, cute, small and young! I blushed and thanked her. We entertained small talk for a few minutes and got to our meeting. A young man kept coming in, he works at the front door and his job is to simply run errands for people. This is very common in the Middle East. These people are typically minimally educated and oftentimes dim. I think it's wonderful that these people are given jobs so they feel that they are contributing to society, it gives them a sense of self worth and I think that is vital for the well-being of any human. He made a photocopy of a document for me and brought me Arabic coffee. It was poorly made, very weak, but I gratefully thanked him and drank it politely. More questions were asked and more people were fetched to run us errands. Towards the end of our meeting, the same young man was directed to bring me a cold glass of water. I thanked him and drank it. I thanked the woman who met with me, time and time and time again. Thanking her for her time with me and all her help. She told me to send my regards to my family and told me if I needed anything, to call her. She congratulated me on my cousin's wedding and wished me the best of luck with all my endeavors.
I left the building in search of a cab. Again, lots of head turns from people because my hair was showing, I presume. I stood on the side of the road for some time waiting for a taxi. The yellow taxis are private and the white taxis are group. I presume the white taxis are cheaper but I had no interest in being in a taxi full of strangers. Finally I found an empty cab that picked me up. I told him where I was going and we went on our way. This man was younger than the previous bear of a driver, I had liked him, he was sweet. This guy was fine, again, no eye contact, no small talk, no smiles. Half way through the ride, the driver sneezed and I slowly began to say Bless You. When I heard the first syllable come out of my mouth I kicked myself, I can't say that to a strange man, I know better than that! My voice grew quieter but he still heard me, he tried to look me in the eyes but my head was turned to look out the window, wearing big sunglasses and watching him in the rear view mirror, he said thank you. He took a back road to approach the house and so I had initially told him to turn left, when I saw what direction we were coming from, I said pardon me but it's actually right. He laughed out loud and gave me a lesson on the difference between right and left. I said, "yes I know but I thought you were coming from a different direction. Please pull up behind the black van." He did as instructed and asked "is this ok?" I paid him 1.5 dinars and got out of the car, thanking him on my way out.
I tried to open the door to my aunt's house but it was locked. Crap. I rang the doorbell and stood back. The door opened a crack, the maid had opened it and a huge smile came across her face. "Zally!" she lazily squealed. "Hi Lita" I said and she let me in. "Mama here, madame here." She said. I think she was trying to tell me that my aunt (other aunt, Mary) from Syria had arrived. I ran into the living room and found my aunt, my father's eldest sister reading the newspaper. Her hair is always died jet black and I've never seen her without bright red lipstick. You can see that life has worn her out but she remains elegant and composed. She asked about my work and my life, my family and my studies. We got into a heated discussion about human rights and human trafficking. I excused myself finally, I had to get some things done and she went in one of the bedrooms to lay down.
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