Sensitivities…

If I could make a generalization about the UAE society, I’d have to say we’re a sensitive bunch. Minor insults seem to make their way into every conversation; no matter what the nationalities or genders involved.

People are offended by use of language, social conduct, even an inconclusive glance.

I remember once, sitting in Starbucks reading some book waiting for a friend of mine to finish work, so I could take her home. This attractive young woman couldn’t seem to help but stare at me from another table. I’d never seen her before, but her stare was so powerful I could feel it. The look on her face was indecisively empty; not angry or intimidating, nor curious or even admiring. I couldn’t figure her out, so as contagious as these things are I found myself staring right back at her. I couldn’t concentrate on my book due to the power of her look; so I’d look her right back in the eye for long periods of time trying to figure it out, before giving up and attempting to read again.

This went on for quite some time; all the while I ended up rereading the same page over and over again, because it just wouldn’t register. I watched as she befriended a guy sitting next to her; all the while taking moments to stare at me a little more. I watched as he bought her a drink; and then as she borrowed his mobile to make a call. I watched as the two of them left, only to return a short while later. I’m assuming they went to eat or something.

Since this friend I was waiting for was staying in my house and didn’t drive, I found myself waiting in that same Starbucks, reading a book, almost daily. For the next week or so, I encountered that same girl; always sitting alone without a coffee, always watching me. She would sometimes befriend whoever was sitting next to her, and almost always borrowed his or her mobile to make a call before leaving. Eventually, the looks she gave me turned almost challenging; like she was attempting to somehow gain a non-spoken power over the strange, silent relationship we had built. Again, I looked directly into her piercing stare only to hold it for as long as I had done numerous times in the past, and then broke it with laughter. I shuck my head, as she caught my giggling infection and was finally able to look back at my book and concentrate on what I was reading.

Just a few moments later she got up and sat down in the chair next to me. She introduced herself to me, in Arabic, and I explained my Arabic wasn’t fluent enough to have a conversation. She told me she was new in the UAE from Syria, didn’t speak English and was working in one of the shops in the center. She asked to borrow my mobile, called some guy friend of hers before wishing me well and leaving.

I saw her a few times after that and each time she greeted me with a smile and said hello before moving on. She never stared at me with that ambiguous look again. Whatever caught her curiosity in the first place had been cured by a little laughter and a 5 minute conversation.

I don’t think many other women would have reacted the way I did in this situation. In fact, I’ve seen girls in public get offended by such things and shout out, “Sho? What are you looking at?” time and time again. I’m not really sure why a look is taken as an insult by so many here. But it seems most people are more willing to feel angered or sensitive about social interaction than just accepting it.

I’ve insulted my fair share of people; knowingly and unknowingly of course. There was the Sheikh who invited my family out to dinner and decided to blame me because he got lost in the parking of Emirates Towers when it was new, among other teasing directed towards me. I decided that since he started it; I would continue it. I picked on his height the minute we stepped out of the car; something my father will forever remind me was taking it too far. I was 15 or 16 years old then. The last time I was at my father’s house and this particular person stopped by, he refused to enter the sitting room where I could be seen through the windows of the porch. All the apologies in the world won’t change the fact that this man doesn’t like me much, I’m sure. I am sorry about this; as I wasn’t aware the man’s height is something he himself feels really insecure about.

I insulted my biology teacher by asking him if I could ask him a personal question, to which he agreed, and then asking him if he was actually having the affair all the students were talking about anyway, with another teacher. He so wanted to suspend or punish me, but found he was unable due to his prior acceptance that I ask him something personal. He never answered my question, but did come into my office years later with that other teacher; his new bride. They did insist on only dealing with me, and making my working life as miserable as they, as my customers could. I’ll never be sorry about this. Both of these teachers were walking horrors while I was in their school, and while they were in my office. And I wasn’t wrong; the rumor was right!

I insulted the Egyptian men in my last office, when they attempted to play with me and I reminded them the heels on my shoes were pointy enough to cause damage; and I would kick ass if needed. It was the shoe reference and the word ‘ass’ that was the cause of that insult. They got over it, and eventually started using both my references among themselves. In fact, a day wasn’t the same if one of the two comments wasn’t used. I’ll never be sorry about this one either; I’m loved by that whole office for my bazaar ways and ability to see things a little differently than the rest of them. And I love them right back for accepting the fact that social morals aren’t internationally based upon the same guidelines as in their own.

I’ve insulted some here, with that entry comparing opinions to assholes; as the comments seem to show. I’m not sure what to make of that, though I’m not sorry about it. It’s my journal, my blog, my thoughts. How can you possibly blame someone for what they think?

I guess to make me feel insulted you have to tell me something I don’t already know about myself, or show me something that simply proves pure ignorance and arrogance towards something I love, admire, or care about, or treat me with complete disrespect for some reason I’m not aware of. I suppose the word “Bitch’ uttered by someone I have no reason to respect in the first place, just doesn’t make a dent on my heart; whereas some false accusation or implication made by someone I’d never want to hurt, might tear my world in two. I guess I have to care about you personally enough before I’m able to take your words or actions to heart.

Which leads me to conclude; either the rest of these people care too much about people they don’t know, or I just don’t care enough.