Another English Student & Another Wedding

I recently started teaching another Doo English student. Manal is a 21yo University student who is in her third year of an English degree. Her English is much better than my other students, but her conversational and colloquial English requires practice so she sought me as a tutor. Last week I learn the difference between an idiom and a cliché, and then tried to explain it! I am enjoying studying commonly used idioms – it’s interesting how often I know the meaning of one in context but have difficulty explaining the meaning to an English student.

Manal’s Mother is from a very conservative part of Doo which I was immediately aware of on meeting her, as she kept her hair covered even while meeting me. Manal and her sisters all wear full-face veils and gloves to cover their hands, one of the most conservative styles of dress here in Coo, but certainly not uncommon. In their home, they remove their abayas and other coverings but remain conservatively dressed. I asked if I could remove mine when I teach (simply due to the 44 degree temperature) and Manal said that her Mother wouldn’t like it. So it stayed on. My other Doo friends and students found this quite extreme.

Manal’s older sister was married a few months ago and the family didn’t have the time to hold the normal wedding party (similar to the one described in my previous wedding post). So after meeting Mum and three of the sisters twice, I was very kindly invited to attend a small gathering last night to celebrate the elder sister’s recent nuptials. After being slightly embarrassed at my last wedding for wearing black and feeling under-dressed, I chose a sparkly full-length blue skirt and black top to wear. I chose to take my short-sleeve cardigan in case I felt uncomfortable in my boob tube.

When I arrived, at about 10:30pm I was greeted by another sister who I had not met, quickly greeted the family members I knew and was escorted into a large rectangular room. The cushioned bench seats around the edge were full with female family members and a few friends, and everyone was very conservatively dressed. Full-length sleeves and full-length skirts. Most were free-flowing. Most women were wearing make-up, but it didn’t seem as if they’d visited beauty parlours or had their hair dressed. An enormous contrast to the last wedding I attended. Some women still had their hair covered while in the room.

I was taken to sit with the two other foreigners and was delighted to discover that they both work at my hospital in home healthcare and have known the family for years. One had arrived in a long green dress with long sleeves and informed me that she’d been asked by a woman to cover up because her ankles were on display. There was very little mingling going on, but I made an effort to use my sparse Arabic to greet and introduce myself to some of the family. Most had a few words of English and even those that didn’t spoke quickly in Arabic to me and I tried to keep up. It was the first time I’ve felt really comfortable smiling at everyone and recognizing how powerful a smile is even if one can’t communicate in the same language.
The meal was ready just after midnight and we were escorted to another room that had enough food to feed 500 women, not the 80 or so that were present. We were seated opposite Manal’s grandmother (the Matriarch of the family who reportedly rules with an iron fist). I was enjoying the delicious food (lots of traditional Doo dishes including qabsa, a hot and spicy foul medamme mix, different salads and lots of lamb) but couldn’t take my eyes off the grandmother who ate the lamb from the bone like she hadn’t eaten in a week. Most women use a combination of hands and spoons to eat, but I think she had decided the tools would slow her down. Her hands had been painted with henna and her eyes were heavy with kohl but she grinned every time she caught my eye, meat hanging from her hands and mouth. Most guests had come and gone from the dinner table and grandmother kept going. I felt rude departing the table while was still eating but I reluctantly moved when Manal called.

The remainder of the evening was more fun than the earlier part. The Doo women developed confidence in talking with me and the other two foreigners and we were surrounded by women wanting to know if we thought they were beautiful, what we thought of the party and were we bored without music or dancing. I had numerous requests for English lessons and couple of offers for Arabic teaching. I may follow through with those offers given the expense of my current lessons.

Like the other wedding, most people began to drift out immediately after the meal. We stayed another hours or so, and spent about 40 minutes trying to get from the door to the gate, kissing and farewelling all the family members. I have been here 7 months and I have still not figured out when I should kiss once on the left, twice on the left, twice both sides or thrice both sides. I laugh every time because I always seem to get it wrong and either get pulled in for another kiss or pushed away with a look of curiosity ☺. I’ve enquired about the rules, but it seems there aren’t any. I should just know.