Read an Excerpt
The Enchanting Contradiction
Memories of the Middle East
By Patricia Heurtaux
iUniverse, Inc.
Copyright © 2011 Patricia Heurtaux
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4620-2255-7
Chapter One
Departing for the United Arab Emirates
Due to a painful divorce and a "no happy end love story", it was very hard to stay in France. Somewhere it was over and I wanted to flee, therefore I decided to take one of the biggest challenges in my life: Leave my country and try another life with my new boyfriend in Dubai. So, one day of July 1992, my daughter and I, were ready for the farewell.
It was a gloomy and sticky day at the airport. I felt a pain in the pit of my stomach, but I smiled; I smiled for my daughter, I smiled for my mother, letting them know that I took the right decision. I tried to soothe my mother's heart; she was watching us leaving everything behind to go to a faraway and unknown country, full of weird stories. I had to convince my daughter that she was about to discover an exciting new place, full of promises, and she'd come back to France to spend her vacations with her father.
But how could I find the right words when I was afraid of this unknown? When the Middle-East had such bad reputation, how could I explain to my mother that it was, in fact, a wonderful destination, especially Dubai and it would be a perfect new beginning? Was I irresponsible? Was it too much challenge for my daughter to leave the country where she was born, her brothers and sisters, her friends and all the familiar surroundings? She was so young.
I asked her "Do you remember last summer when we went to Dubai?
"Yes"
"It was so enjoyable wasn't it and you had so much fun"
"Yes"
"We are going to see the same people you were playing with, and we'll go back to the same beach club."
"Yes, but I am going to a new school and to lose all my friends."
"Don't worry sweetheart, I think very quickly you'll have new friends, and your new teacher is very nice. You'll see the school is lovely."
Two big blue eyes looked at me and what I saw inside moved my heart and my soul. There was distress, resignation, but also an unconditional love and trust.
"Don't worry honey, you won't be alone. I've decided to work in the French school where you're going. We'll go together and you'll know that I'll be next to you"
Finally a smile brightened her face and her tiny hand grabbed mine. I felt nauseous and scared. Leaving everything behind was harder than I thought.
At this time, in 1992, very few people knew about Dubai or the United Arab Emirates (U.A.E). It seemed like two worlds apart, even though it was only a six hours flight from Paris. A little country tucked away between Oman and Saudi Arabia. Everything I heard did not matter once we landed. I was completely under the spell. So much, so that this country will forever be etched in my memory and my heart.
Nothing was easy, but everything was interesting, forcing me to reassess my beliefs and perceptions. Living there, we had to quickly abandon all our Western notions and pre-convinced ideas, to learn from a new place with different customs, values and traditions.
Over there, time is relative, flexible. Everything is done at a slower pace, more gently. Smiles are everywhere and they penetrate all your defenses. The concept of taking your time, meeting people, enjoying life and letting go, is a real philosophy.
It seems that bright sunny skies have the power to lessen metaphysical pains and suffering. Here, we're more concerned about whether the AC works than finding answers to our existential questions.
This kind of "take-it-easy" ambiance has helped Camille and me a lot in dealing with my mother's death, her father's death, my disease (multiple sclerosis) and other setbacks and painful situations. It opened the door to another side of life: more joyful, more hopeful.
As I said, nothing was really easy, not even the new beginning. The man I liked, who was partly responsible for my move to Dubai, wanted to marry me but he would have preferred for Camille to live with his father. So here I am, torn between the love for this man and the unconditional love I have for my daughter. After a whole night of sobbing, looking more like a frog than a human being, I decided to get rid of this relationship. My daughter was more important and living apart from her was out of question.
So we drifted apart; he began a new relationship with a Lebanese woman and I fell into the arms of the philosophy teacher working at the French School. I must say it was epic! He wasn't so much a lover as an amateur psychiatrist who must have spent his free time reading Russian KGB manuals. It was endless interrogations, pointless attempts to solve existential problems and his childish sulking if I did not give him the right answer.
In fact, he was looking for the solution to his own issues. I really suspected he was sexually and psychologically abused by his mother, which affected his view on women and made it impossible for him to engage in healthy and romantic relationships. In the end, after six months of a relationship that felt more like seeing a shrink than having a boyfriend, he left me for the maid!!! Very common, I know, but it hurts so bad your ego, your feelings, your self confidence and your dreams.
So there, I was devastated and depressed for losing my hope for a new happiness, wishing I was dead, until one unforgettable night. Some friends had taken me camping in the desert, in the hope of cheering me up, when staring at this incredible sky, we saw a shooting star.
"Make a wish" one of them said.
"Last time I made a wish, it ended badly, so I am going to pass" I replied.
"Of course it ended badly. At the same time your boyfriend was thinking: I'd really like to nail the maid".
Put this way, I realized how ridiculous the whole situation was and I started to laugh hysterically. And that was it. I was back on track, not fully healed but getting there.
Unfortunately, when I got home life had another surprise for me. My ex-husband called, in tears; he had just been diagnosed with colon cancer. It was a complete electric shock. A new battle was beginning and I needed all my energy to fight it. No more whining and complaining; how could I be depressed when the man I loved the most, the father of my child, was fighting with death, how to talk to my daughter and prepare her to the worst. He battled like a brave and positive soldier for six years before leaving for another journey.
Life, most of the time, send some signs to put you back in your shoes and to help you to see what is essential. Perhaps, because, I didn't understand that fully, it came back to me when my mother was also diagnosed with cancer. As she didn't keep a positive mind, she left one year after. We should listen more carefully our inner voice, rather to ignore it and to pretend.
Chapter Two
When prejudice influences our perception
If I made a list of the most preconceived notions about the Arab world, it would look something like this:
-The Middle East: A huge desert with only sand, rocks, wandering camels, sandstorms, mirages, thirst and heat.
-Arabs: Uncivilized Bedouins that either live in a cave or under a tent with camels and goats for company. Of course, most of people don't differentiate between Arabs, Persians and North Africans who speak different dialects and have different cultures; but after all, it's only a detail.
-Islam: An extremist religion that ignores basic human rights, idolizes Allah and breeds terrorists blinded by violence and thirst for revenge. (Don't fool yourself thinking that what is going on in Europe is the spread of fundamentalist muslims. Muslims, black people, and any foreign minorities were never really integrated among the conservative population. What is happening now, is generated by the youth who is the second generation born in Europe; they are just fed up with the discrimination and living in ghettos. So far, over there, have you seen any colored or muslim chief of government?)
At the time, in 1992, this basically summed up the ideas and opinions of people who did not know the Middle East (still now). They were all ignorant, but at least they subscribed to the same stereotypes. I always find it pathetic how some people can pretend to be experts just because, they watch the news and read the papers; they forget to think or question themselves and use their brain wisely. It's quite terrifying to hear such closed-minded opinions from people who claim to be highly educated.
The first thing I learned when I tried my story was; you can't teach people who lack the curiosity and desire to learn. It is as difficult as convincing an agoraphobic that's safe to stand in the middle of a crowd. As I was not Freud or Lacan, I let it go ...
When I was coming to Europe, because I guess of my attitude, a lot of people were often talking to me. Try to picture anyone who was asking me where I lived:
"Dubai"
"Where is that?"
"In the Middle East"
(Wide eyes, mouth opened, blank expression)
"Between Saudi Arabia and Iran"
(Now, the blank expression turns into utter terror)
"So, you're covered up ..."
"No, I am dressed normally"
"Can you go out?"
"No, I'm looked up in a dungeon guarded by a fiery dragon" was what I wanted to answer, but to keep things simple, I just respond:
"Yes, I go out, I work, I drive and I raise my daughter"
"All by yourself! It must be so hard for a single woman to live there"
"Well, I must be a real masochist because I have been living there for many years"
Of course, it was not so easy to make it in a male dominated society but it teaches to be more creative, resourceful and to keep up my ego on standby.
Instead of my explosive temperament I had to adopt a softer, calmer attitude and to learn a new necessary virtue: patience. You see, life in the Middle East is punctuated by the almighty Inch Allah (God willing), Bukkra (tomorrow) which can either be tomorrow, in one week or never. Although I adapted quickly, I must admit that on several occasions I just totally lost it!
For instance, I remember our air conditioning shutting off (because of a power cut) in the middle of July, when temperatures are about 120oF. I had to wait more than 24 hours before they even sent someone out to take a look at it. I thought I would go insane, being even unable to take a cold shower (you can't get cold water in the summer because the water tanks are mounted on the roof). I ended up going berserk and moving over to a friend's house. Thank God, my daughter was in France.
I had also a couple of issues with the local administration (but who doesn't have some?) It is interesting that through my travels I have never had a pleasant administrative experience (try the DMV in the U.S.A or the Social Security offices in France and you'll know what I am talking about). It is belief that people who work in the public services are a special underground breed, especially trained to excel at ruining people's lives. They seem to be born frustrated, hating everyone and only getting pleasure from other people's humiliation and anger. Their sex life must be boring or nil.
It gets even more complicated in the Middle East where men and women can't mix. You have a special public department for women, run only by females who wear traditional clothes (abaya and shila). They tend to dislike Western women because, no matter how many layers of clothes we're wearing, we're still showing more skin than they do. This doesn't make communication any easier!
Over there, the concept of time is different and doesn't have the same value as in the West. Nothing is worse than showing impatience and aggressiveness: it goes against Eastern customs and creates an atmosphere of mistrust ...
We, Westerners tend to think that our culture prevails over that of other countries. We see ourselves highly educated and civilized, and as such we know everything and have all the answers (even if they are false). We want the world as we picture it, even if this picture doesn't suit other countries and our trust is biased.
Our culture is neither better nor worse; it is simply different from the one in the Middle East or the Far East. Moreover, the West is much diversified and each Western country is quite specific unto itself, with its traditions, history and influences.
I have lived in France, England, Germany, Greece and now I've settled permanently in the USA, so I am able to experience the cultural dissimilarities within the West. It would be nice if one day, we could realize that our customs and reference points are our own perceptions, and that these perceptions reflect only our culture. In the Middle East those perceptions and opinions are not the same. Knowing the Arab world for more than 18 years helps me to have a more accurate view on what is the best and the worst, and on all kinds of contradictions.
These experiences have also taught me that ignorance breeds fear. The unknown always frightens us and appears menacing because we have to guess what to expect, not knowing what to anticipate. With today's technology and globalization, it should be easier for us to do research, read or hear about different opinions and communicate with people from other cultures, instead of being blinded by our fear and preconceived notions.
However, getting truthful, impartial information is often difficult, especially with respect to the Middle East. The media and politicians would have us believe anything that best serves their interests; a truly "free press" is a utopia.
The media are subject to governmental pressures, and many journalists who first set out to report "the Truth" are either shut down or pushed into more conventional reporting. So we are mostly fed with gossip and commercialized photos of celebrities on the beach, taking out the garbage, cheating on their spouses and so on. News is boring and does not sell as well as V.I.P's private lives. Even they have issues, it's so reassuring. There's a popular saying: "divide and conquer"; it's always easier to manage a herd of sheep (a herd of calves, said General de Gaulle) by removing their capacity of critical thought.
In my personal utopia, I would like to receive clear, impartial and truthful information and news. I would also like politicians and the media to give more credit to the people. We can think, we can handle it. If we could analyze clearly and freely, would it lead to chaos? I don't think so.
Chapter Three
Arriving in Dubai
We landed late at night. There's a three hours time difference with France in the winter and two hours in the summer. It was so hot and humid that it was like putting our heads into an oven. Finally we got in the shuttle and everything seemed better thanks to the AC.
When we went through immigration, the officer made a point to welcome us in French. The power of a smile is so obvious. We were both tired but happy to be there. The knot in my stomach was still upsetting me but tomorrow would be another day, and things would be just fine. I just wanted to sleep and pulled myself together. On the drive home, I stared silently out of the window, unable to talk. There were so many things tumbling over one another in my mind. That fear; I was so afraid I made the wrong choice, having disrupted my daughter's life for the worse. Did I act with her best interests in mind or was I just being selfish? (Almost two decades later, I can say it was the best decision ever. I have so amazing memories).
The next day, although it was very hot (120oF) and humid (96%), we decided to get acquainted with our new city.
Dubai is on the Arabian Gulf and surrounded by desert. We were very surprised to see trees and flowers everywhere. In fact, the U.A.E imports a lot of trees (eucalyptus, acacia, bougainvillea, frangipani and hibiscus) and grass. They dedicate a lot of money and effort to creating an efficient irrigation system. They even have golf clubs that use about 250,000 gallons of water each day. The factories which process the salty water into still water work non-stop. In July, The palm trees are stuffed with dates, the bougainvilleas are blooming with red, yellow, purple and white flowers and the scent of frangipanis fills the air.
In 1993, the country was just starting to emerge. The French school was located in Sharjah, a neighboring emirate, the French community was fairly small, and only 30% of the students were of French origin.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from The Enchanting Contradiction by Patricia Heurtaux Copyright © 2011 by Patricia Heurtaux. Excerpted by permission of iUniverse, Inc.. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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