I wanted to write this a few days ago, but wordpress was not cooperating with me again.  We’ll see how long this fiasco lasts…  I may have to go ahead and switch hosts.  This is to say that if you don’t hear from me for a longer-than-usual time, it probably means something silly is going on with the whole wordpress situation.

Apparently my post about loving fall and wishing cool weather would come sooner did something in the air here, because the next morning after writing that, we were shivering.  It was so great.  We sleep with the windows open and the fans going because it’s very expensive to leave the a/c running all night, and I actually woke up with the covers on me that morning.  (I normally sleep without any sheets or blankets, because, you know, I’m six months pregnant.  Poor Kabob is usually freezing inside these days.)

Anyway, the weather has been gorgeous.  We’ve eaten all our meals out on our balcony, and for the most part, we haven’t needed our a/c.  I think fall is on its way in these parts, and I couldn’t be happier.  A few mornings we’ve even needed to wear long-sleeved shirts, and it’s been so fun.

The other morning, we noticed that no one was wearing long-sleeves.  In fact, there were plenty of men walking around in shorts, a t-shirt, and sandals (women still wear clothes below their knees, and some wear long-sleeves, multiple layers on their legs, and a headcovering year-round, regardless of the weather – religious reasons, obviously).  We thought this was a little strange, since these people tend to be hot-natured.  They wear sweaters and hats well into 80-degree spring, and I’ve seen little toddlers wearing snow suits in May at the park.  I kid you not.  So we found it unusual, to say the least, that we were sitting on our balcony wearing long-sleeves (Kabob was even wearing a hat), and the people below us were in what could be deemed beach attire.

I’ve heard of cultures that let the calendar dictate what to wear, not so much the weather or even the seasons.  As in, even if it’s unseasonably warm in the spring, you’d still wear jackets and hats – because it’s March, not because it’s 75 degrees outside.  So we’re wondering if this is the case here.  Just one of the many little subtleties that go with being a student of culture.

Another unusual thing about the people here (at least from an American perspective) is that they are hyper-sensitive about being dirt-free, especially in their homes.  The average housewife’s cleaning standards is higher than any average American I know.  This is no fun for me, in terms of fitting in with the culture, but that’s another topic.  The odd thing about this is that their hygenic standards are much lower than an American’s.  They’re okay with not wearing deodorant and not showering for five days, but get some dust on their pants?  They brush it off as quickly as possible.

So the other day, Chickpea and I were at the park, and she started playing with a little girl that looked about her age.  She was there with her grandmother, who was extremely friendly and asking me all kinds of questions.  She even kept them simple enough for me to understand what she was saying, and I could reply – although caveman-like – in her language.  So we were chit-chatting, and the girls were playing in the dirt, scooping it up and making a little mountain on the playscape.  Out of nowhere, Chickpea smooshed the mountain and spread it around, getting her and the little girl’s shirts a bit dusty and dirty.  The grandmother ran to her granddaughter, pulled her away from Chick, sat at the bench on clear the other side of the park, dusted her off, and dragged her home, the little girl whining the whole time.  I smiled and waved bye to them, and she just gave me the stink eye and quickly moved on.

I found it almost funny, considering they were playing in the dirt.  Did she expect two-year-olds to play in the dirt and to not get any on their clothes?  Was it a major cultural insult what Chickpea did, smearing dirt around?   From her eyes, was I being a horrible mother because I didn’t chastise Chickpea for getting dirty?  Who knows.  It’s just another example of the cultural questions we daily live with.

Our job right now is to learn the language and to be students of the culture here.  Daily life, in the most unexpected ways, provides us with more than enough opportunities.

posted: 07 September 11
under: culture