A Name Does Not Tell the Whole Story

During our Shadi, Ammi was introducing me to a woman who was a friend of the family. The woman asked Ammi, “What is her name? (In English as if I wasn’t standing right there.)” Ammi replies with my name and the woman says. “Well then she is not a muslim.” How rude! I was more offended for my MIL and hurt that I was being judged this way after all of the compromises I had made. Who was she to say what my beliefs were?

I have not taken a muslim name yet. N and family have been extremely supportive of this. I am still on my path to conversion and they are very respectful and supportive of my choices. N and I have been married for over two years and they have not pushed me in any way. When I take another name, I will seek their guidance.

I cannot lie and say that the thought of being called another name doesn’t bother me. My name as everybody else’s means a lot to me. My parents gave me this name after careful consideration. I am named after my grandmother and her name is found in the bible as a person close to Moses. The spelling of my name is unique and has a lot of meaning to my mother. I will take a second name as a proclamation of my faith; but, I will expect to known by both names, so not to forget who I am, where I came from nor to disrespect my parents and grandparents.

Arghhhh!

I do love him, I do...

Me: "Hon what time is your appt. tomorrow?"
DH: "10:30"
Me: "So we need to be up by 9:30"
DH: "No we should get up by 8:30 or 9"

I ignore this because we have been through this routine a million times. And at 9:30, I get up and shower and proceed...

Me: "Hon" (as I am lovingly scratching his back so not to upset) "Sweetie it is quarter to 10"
Me: Repeat earlier step. "Hon it is 10"
Me: Again.
Me: "Do you want me to leave you be?"
DH: "Yes"
Me: "So you are not going to your appt.?"
DH: "That wasn't the question"
Me: "But if I leave you alone, you will fall asleep, miss your appt. and it will be my fault.
DH: "That is true"
Me: In the nicest way possible b/c of fasting "I can't believe you just sleep through your appts."
DH: Sleep and silent treatment for an hour
Me : An hour later "Baba, please don't get upset, let's get up"
DH: "you called me useless"
Me: What? "I said you sleep through appts. I did not call you useless"

MEN! If this is a man, what will children be like?

I love him, I do, he is just so spoiled sometimes :-)

The Need to Blog

We live in a community that does not have many desis and my hubby does not have any family here. I started blogging in hopes that I would be able to connect with other gori wives married to Pakistani men.

What I have found is way beyond expectations, which causes mixed emotions.

First, there are lots and lots of people just like me. This is great in terms of support which was my original need. I love to read about everyone else's issue which ring so true to me. I love the support and comarade of sister-hood. There is also a certain element of sadness in knowing that I am not so unique after all.

But, this is ood for me to witness, because at the end of the day the marrirage is a marriage and a family is a family no matter where you come from. The two risk-takers in love who risked so much and hurdled so many barriers are now Mr. and Mrs. as any other Mr. and Mrs.

Secondly, there is also an aspect of blogging being like a popularity contest (probably self-induced) I see that there are so many cool people out there. I laugh at their jokes, I "peer" into their homes, I visualize their children, etc. I feel that I can relate to them and in turn want them to know me.

I was always vey shy as a child and still, I a bit of a introvert. I have failed miserably so many times in trying to make new friends in school, at parties, etc. I do not feel this as much because I have a stable group of friends. Blogging has stirred up some of these emotions as I try to get my foot in doors and forge relationships or whatever it is that we do on blogs. I am not sure what it is, but I know that I desire to relate to y'all, so will you be my friend?

Thirdly, blogging is dangerously addictive.

Next Time, I Will Have Heat

I no longer work. Friday was my last day. It was bittersweet to say the least. The morning was great. I spent time with my staff and they were so sweet. They gave me a framed picture of all of us and a beautiful card. The sentiments in the card were so sweet and real. I cried. They cried. We all cried. We are really a dysfunctional family that serves some of the most hated, unwanted people; the homeless.

Later we went to the main office for my “surprise” cake and ice cream, which I knew about. I made the decision to break my fast for this. I know this is wrong, but I am weak, I guess more than anything, I just wanted to be in good spirits on my last day. While I have gotten more familiar with the patterns of fasting, I am still “out of it” and distant. I felt so bad all week for feeling so tired and weak and tried to overcome this so that no one would know. Especially this week, were I was supposed to be more relaxed and enjoying the farewell and when my staff were seeking so much of my attention.

I do realize the point is missed, though. Submitting, or having Islam, should be greater than any day-to-day activity such as my going away party or my Mom’s retirement party, etc It is very difficult to be so strong, when you don’t have anyone around to share this with. My friends have been very supportive. But, I do still project some of my own uneasiness because it is all so new and unfamiliar.

I know that my intentions are what matters. I also get scared because I do not want to subscribe to fear. I don’t think any religion should be based on fear. I felt that my upbringing was a bit like that.

I have enjoyed fasting. I am grateful for the opportunity to do what is asked of God. I feel good. I like sharing the act with my hubby and his family. I appreciate the opportunity to devote this time and to share my intentions and educate my friends and family. I enjoy my daily readings about Prophet’s life. Ramadan Mubarak!

I cried last night because of my boss (ex as of Friday). He hurt me so bad and so many people make excuses for him- I will not! As mentioned earlier, I went to that office for cake. He was there. He was enthralled by the woman of the hour. She took over the conversation as usual and dominated the party with stories of her recent labor and delivery. She passed her baby around and in turned into a baby shower of sorts. I sat in a corner not saying much. Finally, I got up to leave. I went to say goodbye to my boss and he was gone. He had left and never even said goodbye!

What kind of person am I? I must be so stupid. Why else would I take a pay cut to work as a program director to be treated this way? Why would I tirelessly work for the past two years to help people out with no heat, no drinking water, etc. to be treated with so much disrespect. I wasn’t even authorized to by a fridge so that my poor staff could pack their lunches and we accepted it because the organization was poor. We had NO HEAT for years! I was acting director, supervisor, hr, fundraiser, organizer, case manager, marketing director, secretary, etc. for what???? To not even get a “goodbye”, “good luck”, or even thank you! I have a master’s degree and many years of experience. I have brought in so many grants, staff, and resources. I have turned everything around-thank you very much! There I feel better. I still feel so stupid.

Man, how did you get her?

14-12-04

We went back to the market today. We saw lots and lots of cupra, chappals, and jewies. Another uni approached Appa and was dressed as a woman. He kept calling her “Mona Lisa,” and saying, “Mona Lisa, don’t break my heart!”

When we returned, our suitcase had arrived. We wrapped all the gifts and gave them to the children. They were so excited about the barbies and remote control air planes. We all sat out on the patio and the sky was so blue and the weather so perfect. The overall atmosphere and sense of family was tremendous.

One observation that sticks out is last night’s meeting with N’s childhood friend. N was asking his friend how he had come to be married with his wife. Because the way marriages are traditionally arranged, or at least involve the family input, the question became, “How did you get her?” His friend’s reply was, “She is a good friend of my sister.” There was nothing wrong with this response. It was just strange to hear about this girl as if she wasn’t sitting right there and as if the marriage were a business transaction.

And, this morning the birds were chirping so loudly, N and I commented that we don’t normally hear such loud birds back home. Then I realized how strange it is to have such an abundance of birds in such a major metropolitan area (Karachi). The difference could be that American neighborhoods has employed methods of major clear-cutting and in Karachi, the city was built up around the nature, so some of the trees are very, very old and the birds are still plentiful? Who knows.

Worker Bee

N and I are planning our move. There are so many emotions that accompany this move. The move is a result of his office closing here and his job has been moved to the headquarter office.

I have never lived out of state and all of my family and friends are here. I am very excited about the new life and the new experience with my best friend. I am also nervous, too.

Friday is my last day at work. I am glad for an "out", because it is time, though I cherish my experience. As a program director, I learned so much. I learned about the issues of homelessness and maintaining grants as well as supervsing; all of which were very challenging. I enjoyed being "queen" so to speak. And my hard work really turned a dying program around. I have made life-lasting frienships and have helped so many people in their time of transition from homelessness.

So now what? I have submitted a few resumes and have been called for two interviews. I turned one job down. Another job, which I thought I had just turned me down. I am beating myself up. I am also secretly grateful, becuase this means I can stay here until after Thanksgiving. And for once I don't have to be the responsible one. For once, I can relax and see what comes our way.

I do not want another low-pay, 50 hour a week stress job. I want to have more time for my hubby, to cook, to clean, to read, to exercise, to study urdu (to nest so-to-speak). I will work, but I won't make it my priority. This shall be an interesting concept for me to master seeing as all I have ever known is my career.

A Fairytale?

The other night, N and I had a couple over for dinner. They are new friends. The wife is from this area and the husband is from Albania. The dinner was very nice and the conversation lively.

The husband, I’ll call him Tim, was so enthusiastic, it was inspiring. Tim told us how he grew up in communist Albania and how it was very strict with very little freedoms. Tim’s family is Muslim, but he did not know this since no one had the freedom to discuss their religious affiliation. Tim talked about how his parents used to tell him stories and parables about the Prophet and the Koran, but without naming the Prophet or citing a religion. So the stories he learned were like fables and fairytales.

Now, Tim has fled that oppressive life and come to America. He is so happy to be here; almost like a kid at an amusement park. Throughout the dinner, Tim was on the edge of his seat asking N questions about Islam. He is trying to discern what he knows and what he doesn’t and put all the pieces of the puzzle together.Tim is so in love with his new found religion that at one point he jumped out of his seat and proclaimed “I love my religion!” Wow. I was so amazed to see this behavior.

I wonder if I will ever allow myself to feel that level of enthusiasim.

I just took N to the airport. We had such a wonderful week. He'll be back Friday to help in my last day of work celebration. This past weekend was Mom's retirement celebration. The whole fam. is going through changes.

Shatter

I am still in disbelief about the earthquake. Tragic. I spoke with his parents. Everyone that they know of is well and has not been affected by the earthquake. Ammi was saying that everyone in the family is busy gathering toiletries, medicine and medical equipment to donate. They have also purchased a number of cloths to help cloth the dead so that they can have a proper Muslim burial. DH and I made a donation to the President’s Relief Fund. I wish we could do more.

The Edhi Foundation has been working tirelessly. They are amazing. I recently read Edhi’s biography and I am amazed at this man’s ability to single-handedly impact Pakistan’s welfare state. Check out http://www.paks.net/edhi-foundation/

Abbu was talking with such sadness. He was talking about how virtually an entire generation has been wiped out in these small towns with so many school children dead and critically injured. So many women widowed, children orphaned, parents left childless. So many people are dying of hunger and thirst. So many will become amputees. How will they ever go on having been so poor from the start?

Can one ever imagine this devastation? May their souls rest in peace and may their families maintain their amazing faith and have courage to rebuild and go on.

I was talking to my Mom and she was talking about how she and all her friends are feeling like all this devastation from the Tsunami to Katrina to the earthquake are signs of the end. I promptly told her I wasn’t buying into that. She may be ready to buy the headstone and plot, but no way am I!

The reality is that there are some serious environmental and poverty issues at play. It may be religious, but I am too logical to accept that as the answer. Fact is that we are overpopulated and overcrowded and pushing mother nature to her limits. Fact is that we should have never built on the shorelines on New Orleans and we should never have built such unsafe and unstable buildings. Shame on all the greedy developers who know of these construction crimes, but choose the dollar over safety.

Now that I have been to Pakistan, I see the world so differently. We are the most fortunate people in the world. Although cumbersome, expensive and ridiculous, we have kazillions of rules and codes that protect us and provide us with the greatest infrastructure. While there would be destruction, we would never have the same destruction as that of a poor nation like northern Pakistan with the type of buildings they have.

Sometimes I feel so guilty for being born a white American. Then again, maybe I am the unfortunate one because of the stress we Americans endure and along with my struggle to give up all trust unto God.

Ramadan Mubarak

Today was the first day of Ramadan-whew! So Ramadan Mubarak to everyone. I have decided to fast. It is strange to do so completely alone-meaning no hubby and no family or friends to share the experience with. Basically you are not to eat, drink or smoke from sunrise to sunset. Also, “unpure” or anger-provoked thoughts are discouraged.

The technicalities: You are supposed to check the times of sunrise and sunset each day and fast accordingly. Most people wake up very early to have a breakfast and lots of liquids before sunrise. I did that today and then went back to sleep. The rest of the day was without anything. Around 7:00 tonight I broke fast by myself; this is iftar. I felt so awful from 5:00 on. I just lie there waiting for time to pass and challenging myself to not have pity and to stay positive and to count my blessings. It is amazing how quickly one can change their outlooks after just a few hours of thirst and hunger.

Fasting makes me feel good in so many ways. It makes me realize how spoiled we can be and how we take advantage of our privilege to eat and drink at any time we feel like. I imagine what it must be like for the less fortunate. When fasting, you begin the day by asking God/Allah to accept your attempt to fast. When you close you thank him for allowing you to succeed. I am now officially open and seeking spirituality. I realize that I am not going to be hit on the side of the head with a miracle. I must make the effort; for it is an extension of myself. You get what you ask for, right?

After feeling so miserable, you stat to refuel and feel normal again throughout the evening. It is then that you feel better about yourself and the gesture you made in Allah’s name. I begin to see life with new eyes so-to-speak. It is also a great feeling to know that so many millions of people all over the world are doing this act from Iraq to Bangladesh to Australia to the woman in the car next to you.

I am so blessed to have this life!

Ode for my bro

N and I went camping with my brother on Saturday. It was awesome. The weather was beautiful and we were relaxed. We finally opened up to one another and shared many thoughts and feelings. I told him that I was very angry at him and have been for the past two years. He said that he knew that I was angry, yet he did not apologize. I still don't think he is capable of seeing the hurt he has caused. He had a hearing today and entered a plea of not guilty. They are now in the plea bagaining stage. The best part was talking and knowing that he was sober. Trusting him and admiring him as my big bro. We talked a lot about our father which I will share later as I process it some more. The following is a poem I had written several weeks ago:

Crash

Side Swipe

Bind Over
Bark Rover
Shove to the Side
Hover under the Hide
Dump on thee who Cried
Gone is the Piggy Bank
Farewell to your Precious Rank
Lost all Dignity
Shackled to Mistrust for Infinity
Blinded by your Wall of Bigotry
Bail Out
Deny About
Escape her Imperious Tout
Save Me, Save Me, Save Me