Shame on Me
Had a relatively nice evening. I took my husband out to eat soup and salad at Chili’s – that’s right… I had nothing prepared when he got home; actually, he got home before I did (Read here for more). Afterwards we went to catch a flick at the dollar movie – Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason (very funny movie).
He had a small altercation with a prick that was seated behind us… Apparently he did not like the fact that we sat in front of him so he could no longer slouch like a slob to watch the movie. I didn’t know that my 5’2” frame was that big that I could block a guy that seemed to be about 5’8”
Anyway. Things settled down after a few, thankfully, because my husband would have probably had all of us kicked out if he had decided to tenderize the guy’s head.
So we enjoyed the movie the best we could – I still laughed out loud as I usually do with funny situations, but he spent the whole movie quietly – and then he decided to make a quick stop at the local Mosque. It will be Eid soon, and we have planned to invite several of our Muslim and non-Muslim friends over to celebrate with us at our home. But hubby wanted to be sure of the date (since the Muslim calendar is quite different from ours) and also needed info on prayer times and to have a list of local ranches that sold goats, lambs, etc.
We were turning and he noticed cars, so that meant there were still people inside. I think he was hoping there weren’t any because that way he would have been able to go on his own tomorrow after work… when I was not with him. Why do I say this? Because he told me as we were turning into the parking lot, “You’re going to have to stay in the car because you are not… dressed properly.”
Properly? I was wearing a nice pair of black slacks, a white, long-sleeve blouse, with a long, black vest over it. The vest pretty much dangles past my hips (trying to hide those voluptuous hips of mine… of course, it makes no difference, people still see I am fat, but at least they also see how well I can dress right?), and finished off with my black shoes, okay… 3” heels, but they are the thick kind… The ones you can have on all day and not get tired with. I do not wear needlepoint; never have because they are so darn uncomfortable. My light make-up and my nicely combed hair, parted on the side (now that is long enough to allow it), and a pair of earrings that Husband gave me. I looked like coming out of the office.
But alright… if by properly he meant, a rupatta over my hair, long salwar kamise, and flat sandals, then I guess I wasn’t properly dressed for the Mosque. A salwar kamise, by the way, consists of pants and a blouse that is long enough to reach the knees, the rupatta is a very, very long version of a scarf (what we would wear with evening gowns and such). I have several of those outfits, beautifully embroidered by hand and of wonderful material, but unfortunately they no longer fit. They were bought the largest size available when they did, and since their ladies are generally so thin, the only way I can get an outfit my size would be by tailor… and none of the tailors here have any idea what a salwar kamise is.
As we parked I noticed several cars with people in them. Mostly ladies and children that were probably waiting for their husbands to finish up saying their goodnights to all other men inside, or something similar – you know, man business.
I opened the door to the car and he turned to look at me, so I said “Fine, you’re right. I should stay. It’s not my business.” I guess he noticed my hurt tone and said that I should go. “No, no. You don’t want me to see the Mosque, so I’ll just stay here.”, “No amor, come. You have a right to enter the Mosque.” So finally we both left the car and headed over to the main entrance. Just about when we reached the doors, a man that looked slightly older than my husband, probably by about just 8 or 10 years, walked outside and greeted Husband.
They said their greetings in Arabic and Husband started with the basic questions, “Hello, I just needed information on when you will be having Eid prayer.” The man, whose name I didn’t get because he never presented himself to me (nor did Husband introduce me either) said that it would be next Friday, and then proceeded to ask if he was a Muslim. Husband said that he was.
“And you are from here?” Meaning the town.
“Yes, we are.”
“Oh, then why haven’t I seen you here?”
“Oh, I pray at home. But I remember seeing you last year, I came from Eid prayer last time” he meant October for the end of Ramadan.
“*something in Arabic* Hm. Well you should come. We have *more Arabic* every day at 1:30 and of course, we are supposed to pray 5 times a day *something else on Arabic*” my husband quickly said that, yes, he did pray his times everyday, but on his own. And I know he does. First thing in the morning, then at work he takes 2 breaks to do praying in a separate room, and finally at home right after sunset and then the last time about an hour later. He has his own room for that and I am not allowed to do anything to that room except of course, clean it. “What is your name? And is your wife Muslim too?”
Husband replied with his last name and finally ‘introduced’ me. My full first name and last name. I bet that if you asked the guy my name 5 minutes later he would not have remembered. He didn’t even turn to look at me. When my husband said that I was not Muslim he said, “Oh well… she’s welcome here anyway.” It sounded like a forced, polite invitation, but that doesn’t bother me - I don’t step inside any type of church even though in my family we have Catholics, Christians, Witnesses, and Presbyterians. This is not because I make a point to stay away from religion… simply… I never get invited to go to religious functions. (I have however, gone to Catholic churches On My Own… but generally with a camera, because those churches are always so beautiful! The paintings and the icons are just amazing).
Husband and the man continued talking, another person came out and they introduced one another. All this time I am just standing behind Hubby… who has his full back to me, so I did not even make an attempt at listening to whatever they were saying anymore. At last they say goodbye to each other, adding more Arabic blessings in between, and we turned away to go back to the car.
I should have stayed in the car after all.
All the drive home Husband kept saying, “That’s why I didn’t want to take you. Because I knew they were going to ask me if I was Muslim and then they were going to ask about you.” I find that silly… both the question and his concern. If a person goes to a Mosque to ask about the schedules and holidays (in the Quran’s language, by the way) then wouldn’t it be obvious that the person is Muslim? Or at least interested? And the fact that husband felt concerned that they asked about me is also silly. A lot of people always as those type of questions. How many times have we not been asked if we go to church, or what our denomination is, or whatever related to religion? So I simply told him, “you tell me this every time… if you went to the Mosque every week and mingled with them, then they would never ask you such things. But if you wait until next year to go again, of course they’ll forget you and ask you that question again.”
He kept at it about his people being so picky about the religion and all that. That he doesn’t want to get me involved with them because they’ll treat me bad, “oh you mean ignore me like they did? Like you did too?” Ouch. But it was the truth! Basic manners say that the first thing you do is introduce anyone who may be with you, no? I do it. That’s what my mom taught me. But maybe it is a guy thing - my dad forgets to do that at times too… so I’ve seen my mom having to introduce herself, and that is very embarrassing. I’ve had to do it for myself at times as well. It’s awkward… but at least, when it happens the other unknown person looks at me in the eyes, or shakes my hand or something. Tonight… not even a single look, from anyone. I was almost invisible.
I will continue to support my husband and try to get him to do the things that he is required to do. But I will do it from the background. I will cook his special food. I will keep his praying room clean. I will not mind if he goes to his Mosque without me. He can even go to weekend events if he so wishes. I’ve been telling him for months to do it. Our only Muslim friend is 4 hours away from us… and I understand how difficult it is to celebrate your special holidays alone… so if he meets others that share his beliefs then Great! Is just too bad that he feels ashamed of what I am (or am not).
But I guess I’ll just have to accept that part of my marriage.
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