Cultural Shock

Talk about culture shocks. I once went out with an Egyptian. I met up with him to talk about the commercial establishment in which he was the engineer-in-charge and I was interested to secure a shop space for my employer. To cut the long story short, I went out with him that night and he took me to Jumeirah beach. We just walked along the shore and we talked about his life before the divorce.

It was my most hilarious date ever. First of all, he asked me where I wanted to go for coffee and I said Starbucks. It was the only familiar coffee shop I knew then. He said no. He wanted to be “alone” with me so we could talk “without too much outside noise.” In other words, he wanted to stay in the car…and he said we’ll go wherever I wanted to go. Yeah, right! He bought our coffee at a petrol station at a dirham each. He gave me my cappuccino and told me to go back to the car. When he returned, he handed me a solitary red rose…also from the petrol station. Obviously it was his effort of a romantic gesture he learned from someone. It fell flat, though.

Anyways, when we were walking and talking at the beach, he was very mindful of my welfare. Was I hungry? Thirsty? Comfortable? He was putting all these effort because he just wanted a wife he can come home to, who will cook meals for him, keep the house clean and tidy, his clothes neat and clean, and all those domestic stuff. In return, as his wife, he will buy me a car, give me shopping money and, look after me so I don’t have to work for anyone ever again. That was literally what he said when he proposed that night.

Sorry! I told him I’m not cut out to live that way and besides that, we just met! He said he doesn’t need to know anything more if I can perform wifely duties and of course, disapproved my choice. He thinks that at my age, I should be a kept woman with kids. What he couldn’t understand was I will die by living like that. Just to end the night, I told him to try dating the girl he really likes back at Pizza Hut in Bur Dubai. That appeased him somewhat.

When he was driving me home, he made me promise two things: (1) I will not drink alcohol and, (2) I will not use gel on my hair. He was so serious about this he even said I should swear these on my brother. I agreed just to humor him. What I found very funny was his opinion on my hair. He thinks my short, spiky hair is too funky that if there was another girl sitting beside me with long straight hair, he’d trust the other girl.

So, I got a marriage proposal during the first date and it was also my first encounter with a chauvinist face to face. That night certainly gave me a blow by blow shock of my dating life and more so how different our cultural backgrounds were. I finally had it confirmed that there are still men stuck with the Middle Ages mentality. The period of enlightenment still has to catch up in this part of the world.