New Life

Why are Arab/Muslim communities abroad so much more conservative than back home? I noticed a little bit of that when I was studying in the US but here in Sweden it seems so much more pronounced.

Being new in town - and being out of work for the time-being, I find that my social life revolves around families my mother-in-law knows. I mean, it's not like I can go out and meet people on my own yet. I am so busy with the baby and helping my MIL. Besides, not speaking the language and being unfamiliar with the city makes me kind of reluctant to venture out on my own too much.

No one actually said anything to me. My MIL is not overly conservative herself - but I find myself feeling self-conscious about a lot of things I would not normally have thought twice about - because I notice that no one around me does them.

Isn't it crazy that I feel that more in Sweden than I ever did in Abu Dhabi?

I am no where near as confrontational about these things as I used to be. I don't have my own life here yet. I am a guest in other people's house and other people's lives so I feel the need to not stand out or offend. I have a need for conformity that is new to me.

It's a breath of fresh air when we have time to go out with K's friends. Those are the only times I am comfortable letting my hair down and the only times when I get to go places and really see the city. Except I am not that comfortable going out and leaving my son behind too much. My MIL has problems with arithritis and already has her hands full taking care of my FIL. It feels wrong somehow to dump on her when we're supposed to have moved here to help her out.

After the baby was born and before we moved out here, I went through a phase of being really jealous and paranoid about my husband and other women - mainly because I felt so fat and hideous and the sex wasn't like it used to be. I think I was pretty unbearable for a while.

Then we sat down and talked about it. We agreed that we seem to have more problems with jealousy and possessiveness than any other married couple we knew and that we couldn't continue with at least one of us throwing jealous fits at any given time in the marriage. And so we set some ground rules for when we moved - the assumption being that we would have a new life out here and we should try and start it on the right foot.

But since we got here, we haven't actually had a chance to test any of the ground rules - because there is no social life to speak of. He went back to work immediately after and I got so wrapped up in the baby and my in-laws etc....

Now we hardly ever go out or see anyone who is not a family friend or relative of his.

The relative isolation suits me for now. I spend my free time reading or catching up on my exercise, getting back in shape. And it is good to be involved in his life. I used to feel his family issues were taking him away from me. Now I feel like part of his family, that we're in it together. And the issue of children isn't standing between us anymore. He still helps out with the baby when he can - given that he's at work so much.

Our financial situation is also more stable now that he's working. So basically a lot of the old issues that were stressing us out and keeping us apart are resolved. We are closer than we've been in a while.

Sometimes, though, I wake up in the middle of the night in a panic and can't go back to sleep, feeling the loss of my career, my friends, my family, my own life. I am happy with the current situation most of the time - because it feels temporary, like I am getting ready for something. But sometimes I start to think wait a minute, what if this isn't temporary? What if it's always like this? Am I cut out for this? And then my mood and my thoughts turn pretty dark for a while.

Motherhood

1)You get used to having baby drool on your clothes and will only consider a shower and change if there is baby vomit as well as drool on them.

2) You're constantly preoccupied with the baby's development.This becomes your favorite reading topic. Scratch that. It becomes your ONLY reading topic. For example, mine will be 7 months old soon - and yet he shows no inclination to sit up. Some of the baby books say he should be sitting up with support. What does support mean? Because other baby books say I shouldn't try to push him too soon incase I cause damage to his spine. So what constitutes support and what constitutes pushing too hard too soon?

On one hand I have this instinctive aversion to making him do anything he doesn't want to do. On the other hand I can't get over treating him like a new pet or sth. I keep wanting him to do new tricks!

3) You struggle with existential questions like are swimming pools ever clean enough for your child?

4) You catch yourself doing baby talk while on the phone with strangers - and this does not embarrass you.

5) You dread your baby's vaccination shots for days before they're due.

Saying Goodbye....

My last week in Abu Dhabi. We leave next Friday.

So I have lived in this city for as long as I can remember.

I came here a child - since before my living memory - because my parents were looking to maintain a standard of living that could no longer be maintained where they came from. Not without indulging in corruption.

I came here because they wanted to give us everything they felt we should have. And they wanted to do it honestly.

It is difficult to really build up memories here. Because this place changes so fast. People leave. Buildings get torn down. Neighborhoods look different when you come back if you haven't seen them in 6 months.

Nothing has roots that go too deep here.

And yet I still have memories:

My first home.

The first playground where my brothers taught me to play football, set off fireworks, fly a kite, ride a bicycle and a million other lessons. The same neighborhood playground where they stood up for me again and again - and taught me to stand up for myself - taught me what family means and what it means to belong.

My old school.

The first hairdresser who ever managed my hair - the like of whom I have not found anywhere.

The little neighborhood grocery store where my siblings and I would spend our allowance buying candy and sweets.

The Emergency Room where my mother worked and the hospital where we always went when were sick.

My father's old office where I would wait after school when my mother couldn't be home to receive me and my brothers were still at school. The way his staff would order sweets for me from the canteen and give me copies of Majed magazine to keep me entertained.

The ladies beach where I learnt to swim, and learnt to drive on cars stolen from my mother and my friend's mothers.

The hospital where my little sister was born.

The women's get-togethers for coffee and sweets where I met so many of my childhood friends.

The Cultural Foundation where my parents sent us for Arabic and Quran lessons because they didn't think we were getting enough of those in school.

The Corniche where I grew up walking and running and cycling. It keeps getting wider and wider with dredging and reclamation. The old buildings keep moving further and further away from the coast line. But it is still my coastline.

The old cafe and bookstore on the first floor of the old Spinneys supermarket where -as a teenager - it was the highlight of my week to be allowed to hangout with my friends from school. Long before Abu Dhabi had any malls.

The old boutiques in Hamdan Street where my mother and my friends and I did our shopping - also before the malls. Especially the one owned by my friend's cousin - where I could take stuff home to try on and where I could borrow a dress and return it if I couldn't pay for it.

The other old boutique with catalogues where I could pick stuff and order it if I didn't like anything in the store.

I am so going to miss going to boutiques and being told I lost or gained weight and I need to try a smaller/larger size before I said anything. Or being told what is new since I was last there without having to look.

I am going to miss being able to walk everywhere. The way the city is structured so that every block has more or less everything you need within walking distance. The overwhelming convenience of life here where you could order virtually anything anytime by phone.

I am going to miss the safety - everywhere and anytime.

I am going to miss the unique mix of living in an Arab/Muslim country while still being able to immerse yourself in other cultures and ways of life, to meet people from countries you're hearing about for the first time as a matter of routine.

I am going to miss the smallness - which I sometimes got so frustrated with. The way you run into people you know everywhere - because just like people leave all the time - they come back all the time too. They leave as students and come back as professionals to live and work where their parents lived and worked - or as businessmen or businesswomen seeking out old contacts and trying to find opportunities. They leave as little girls and boys and come back fathers and mothers.

I am going to miss these occasional little surprises you get when you run into someone you never expected to see again, someone you might have never met if either if you had never lived in this city. Ships that pass in the night but you pass so many ships that the law of probability makes it likely you will pass some of them again.

I am going to miss the city where I got my first job, my second job and my third job. My first car and my second car.

The city where my first nephew and niece were born and where I first learnt how much you can come to love a small child of your own blood.

The city where two of the friends I grew up with got married and gave me one more nephew and two more nieces - the youngest of whom is named for me.

My uncle's old apartment building - the uncle I hated before that but who later became one of my best friends - and married another one of my best friends.

I am going to miss them all so much.

And much as I enjoyed the different seasons when experienced in other parts of the world, I am going to miss the sameness of the weather here. The predictability. The convenience of being able to plan for anything all year round. I am going to miss weather simply not being an issue.

I am going to miss Emaratis. Their respectfulness and generosity as a people. The way the men in government departments and the police always treat women in such a privileged manner, always letting you go to the head of the queue, letting you get away with parking and speeding violations, being willing to help anytime your car breaks down or they think you're lost or being harrassed - and then disappearing afterwards without expecting anything in return. The way they welcome you into their homes and never comment on cultural or religious differences despite being such a deeply conservative people themselves.

I am going to miss this feeling of relaxation I get as soon as I get into the airport here, the easy and smooth procedures for entry, this sense you get that everything is easy now.

I am going to miss the city where I had my high school prom, my wedding (part of it), my first married home and the birth of my child.

I am going to miss my husband's old clinic, the waiting room where I fell in love.

And his old apartment building - where I started out waiting for him in my car in the parking lot downstairs before we got married. The same apartment building which was the first place I was ever truly alone with a man in total privacy, the heady excitement of it, the sense of risk in being in that grey area somewhere between a girlfriend and a wife, in being allowed to be there but not really.

Then our first married home, the fun of choosing our furniture, the fun of moving in with him. Those early days of love.

The city where I first learnt about friendship - all the different kinds.

The only city which brought me and my parents and my brothers together in a family unit that gave me my foundation and will probably never be again.

The city where I came of age and fell in love.

One more week. One more week to go everywhere and do everything one last time.

One more week to celebrate so much.

Swine Flu

Yesterday evening, we were invited to dinner at his friend's house. The friend's wife works in public health. She was showing me some posters she's been working on about swine flu.

Suddenly my eyes go to my son - who is at the other end of their living room with K and the guys. The first thing that comes to my mind is how he had a bit of a fever and a stuffy nose last week - which our paediatrician had said was just a common cold. We'd had a couple of difficult nights with him but now all the symptoms seemed to have disappeared.

I started thinking, what if it was more than a common cold? What if the symptoms come back worse? What if we were overlooking something serious?

K must have felt me watching them because he looked up at me and immediately I held out my arms for the baby. He came over and handed him to me. I couldn't help feeling his face and neck and hands for fever. He seemed fine but still I found myself holding him so tight he started to cry. Immediately I felt bad. He'd been playing and giggling and now I had upset him. And I couldn't get him to settle down again. I guess it's true that babies can feel your fear.

K came to take him, asking what was wrong with me. I whispered can we leave? He couldn't hear me over the baby crying and I had to repeat that a little louder. He said no, we were invited to dinner, we couldn't leave before dinner, it would be rude.

And he went back - with the baby - to sit with the men. Suddenly I was irritated with this custom some people had of seating men and women seperately in their home. I was frightened and I wanted both of them next to me. I wanted to go home.

I know I couldn't have been good company for the rest of the evening but I tried my best. After we left, I was kicking myself for not having asked K's friend's wife about swine flu and infants. After all, she is a doctor and she specialized in disease control. She might have had answers. She might even have been able to examine our son and set my mind at ease. But sometimes you don't want to articulate your fears. I just wasn't ready to say swine flu and my child's name is in the same sentence out loud. I just wasn't.

I told K on the way home. Of course, he told me not to be silly, our son was just fine and babies can't just be put through medical tests for nothing. He said we'd probably be putting the child at greater risk if we take him to a disease control center where he might potentially be around people who really do have swine flu.

I couldn't sleep last night. I wouldn't let the baby sleep either for a while until K got really mad and threatened to lock me out of the bedroom if I didn't leave the baby alone.

This morning I called the paediatrician to see if he thought our son needed to be tested for swine flu. He asked me if the baby had had anymore symptoms. I had to say no. So he said essentially the same things K said, that we should just take the usual precautions you take with infants.

I don't know what is wrong with me. I mean, Mad Cow Disease, Bird's Flu etc...all these scares just passed me by and I paid no attention to them. They were on the news but they never happened to anyone I knew and they just didn't register with me. But now I have a child it is different. Everything I hear seems a direct threat to him.

The worst part is that K wants us to leave in August because he has to start work soon. We really can't afford for both of us to be unemployed much longer. And besides his sister goes back to university in Sept and I know his parents can't be left alone.

But I don't know how I am going to travel with my son in the middle of this outbreak. You hear so much about the dangers of travelling and of being on planes. I mean, we know people who've cancelled plans to go to Hajj this year because of swine flu.

Now I am seriously considering asking K if he'd consider leaving me and the baby behind until after the summer months when less people are travelling. Maybe this swine flu would have passed by then.

We still have a few months left on our lease but I'm not sure how I'd get the visas to work though. I don't know how long my old company would continue to sponsor me now that I've resigned. I mean, it was nice of them to leave me on their visa so long after the birth - and to agree to sponsor my son too. I have a feeling they did it because they're hoping I'll come back to work. And if I want to stay a little longer I might have to consider taking a temporary post with them anyway - to help finance my stay.

Which just shows how far I have come, that I would actually consider letting my husband get away from me again. That's something I swore I'd never do again.

And convincing him isn't going to be easy either. He'll probably get upset that I would even ask - after everything we've been through. And he'll say how expensive it is to live here, that we've already spent so much what with having a baby and all, that it would be a waste of money we don't have etc....

It is so complicated.:(

Love don't live here anymore?

This morning I woke up freezing from the AC, wrapped around him for warmth. Which is fairly typical because he moves around so much when he's asleep that the duvet never stays on me and I get cold. So I got used to just reaching for him because he is like a human hot water bottle. As much as my circulation sucks and I am always cold, he must have amazing circulation mashallah because his skin always feels hot. And it's easier to find him than to find the duvet and dig it out from under the two of us. But then he would move again in the night and I would get cold and follow him. We'd wake up, uncovered, lying horizontally across the bed sometimes, with me wrapped around his back, nothing like the point we started from, which is each of us in our side of the bed like normal people.

So this morning, I opened my eyes and lay there for a few minutes, not feeling like saying anything, trying to tell from his breathing whether he was awake yet. He was. I guess he must have been listening to my breathing too because I felt him move to get up. I mumbled no, am cold. So he turns over in my arms, pulls me with him so we're lying on the bed the way we're supposed to and then pulls the duvet over the two of us. And I fall asleep again. The next time I wake up, he's gone. And the baby is crying - which tells me my husband is out - because he wouldn't just let the baby cry if he was home and awake. He would have been in here in a second.

As I get up for my son, I think how, a few months ago, if I didn't want him to get up I would have said no stay, hold me and we would have ended up making love. And I would have said I loved him. Over and over again. And eventually he would have said it too.

Waking up with him used to be so romantic.

I noticed something strange. I noticed that I don't say I love my husband anymore. Not to him. And not about him. Not even to myself.

And he's stopped saying it, too. But then he was never as comfortable with that word as I was. Most of the time when he would say it, it would be because I said it first.

And now I am not saying it so I guess it's no surprise that he's not.

I am surprised at me. Is it because we've been together too long? Or because we're married? Or because we're parents? I don't know.

I just find it sad the way the word just seems to have quietly died between us.

I mean, it doesn't sound right anymore to say I love you or I love him about my husband.

I am struggling to understand why. And the thought that jumps out at me is that the word 'love' always comes linked to the word 'I'. And I think in terms of 'I' less and less these days. So much more often than 'I' now, it's 'we'. We went, we thought, we bought etc....

He does it, too.

'Have we forgotten to buy milk again?'
'Are we going out tonight?'
'Let's go to bed'
'Let's get up'
'Oh so we're doing that are we?', usually in reference to the conversation taking a turn he doesn't like.

Our son is not included in the 'we'. It's 'we' and 'he'. It's 'us' feeding him, or 'let's get him settled down to sleep' or 'do we get him this or that'. We, we & us. And he, he & him.

Oh my God. Help me! I have turned into a we!