Four cultural (and amusing!) lessons from surviving the first month in Egypt

Four cultural (and amusing!) lessons from surviving the first month in Egypt:

Cultural lesson #1: Expecting a cohesive cultural norm system is unrealistic.

As an American woman, making preparations to go to the Middle East is like eating a soup sandwich: full of contradictions, awkward, and it just kind of falls apart.

One would think that with how many tourists there are, there would be some official website that says: “Women should wear this. Men should wear this.  Try not to do these things, A, B and C.  Have a nice trip!”

As it turns out this is not the case at all, and everywhere online people say different things.  For example, I was worried about what to pack, and these are some things I read over the course of my preparation:

• All women should wear a veil to be respectful to the Muslim faith
• Women who are not Muslim should not wear a veil, because it is disrespectful to the faith
• Wear baggy clothes
• T-shirts are fine
• T-shirts are not fine, Long sleeves only
• Shirts with lace or sheer fabric are “Haram” and frowned upon.
• Sheer fabrics are a new trend in Egypt
• No one cares what Americans wear, because they’re foreigners

As you can guess, I was really confused.  The only consistent piece of advice was that women should not wear shorts.  I didn’t want to walk off the plane and be stared at, or even worse, offend people in my host country.  So, me (and as it turns out, most Americans that came with my program) packed any and all clothes that made us look like old women.

As I started to venture out my first weeks here, I saw everything from niqabs (nothing but the eyes showing) to tank tops and American eagle skinny jeans.  It was then that all of the nonsense online started to make sense: Everyone’s advice is different, because every person comes from a different part of the Middle East.  What we wear is largely dictated by social expectations, and social expectations stem from cultural norms.  I knew that the culture in each country would be distinct, but I expected there to be at least some overarching themes for the Middle East in general.  So far I’m still looking.  Every Middle Eastern nationality is hugely different, and has not only its own dialect, but its own traditions, way of dress and quirky traits.

Dress code is no exception, and can even vary by neighborhood.  For example, I live in a town where there are a lot of embassies, so residents are used to seeing people walk around in tank tops and skinny jeans. In Tahrir square, you would be harassed to no end wearing that.  In the beach towns, you can wear a bikini and no one blinks.  Anywhere else, that is insanity.

The ultimate advice is just to wear what makes you comfortable. Be respectful. Gauge what the others around you are wearing, and its better to have more on and be able to take it off, than to have less on and be stared at. Actually, that is good advice for everything in the Middle East; Be vigilant, and try to fit in.  If you’re worried, just ask, because people are pretty nice!

A few other things I’ve discovered:

Lesson #2) Don’t try to give someone a hug to say hello

This may seem obvious, but when you’ve known a friend for a month and you run into them, its a very natural thing to get excited and run up to give someone a hug.  Huge mistake, because sometimes even handshakes can be awkward.  Women don’t give hugs to men.  Actually, depending on where you are located, its frowned upon for women to touch men at all, be it a hug, handshake, or sometimes even so much as eye contact. It doesn’t matter if it’s a family friend, your uncle, or even your husband.  It seems like this varies though, as with everything else in Egypt.

Lesson #3) When driving, pretend you’re playing bumper cars and you’ll be less scared.

There’s no such things as traffic lanes.  There is one big road that works like a go-cart race track, and although there are lines they don’t mean anything.  Actually, it seems a lot of people like to straddle the lines while driving. Additionally, on a road, if your car runs, you’re good to go.  Here, the definition of car is extremely loose.  Donkey with a cart on the highway?  Seen it.  A vespa with five people?  Yep.  A public bus so full of people that they’re hanging out of the side onto the railing?  Check.  Everyone is very vigilant when driving, and they beep a lot to let other people know their position in traffic.  In America, beeping means “DANGER!”  In Egypt, beeping can mean

• Hello, friend!
• Drive faster.
• Mr. Vendor in the middle of the highway, please hand me a coke through my window.
• Hey, I’m behind you!
• I’m approaching a blind intersection and I have zero intention of slowing down.
• Move.

These are complimented by a series of sarcastic looks, hand gestures and loud yelling that no one can actually hear because everyone is beeping all of the time.  If you throw back your head and laugh, everything is much more amusing!

Also, there are no crosswalks.  No really.  Just walk across the high way as you please.

Lesson #4) Egyptian time is American time + 20 minutes or more.

This is a proven formula.  Heed my advice and bring a book to meetings, because you’re probably going to wait a while!

Well, I’m going to wrap this post up so I can save some things for next time!  The end of my first month has left me with new friends, funny experiences and many cultural lessons. There will be more soon to come.

Gender Relations in Jordan

Perhaps the most noticeable difference between the US and (what I have experienced of) the Arab world is gender relations. What strikes me the most in this regard is not the fact that most women dress more conservatively than in America; I respect these decisions to dress modestly. It is the ways in which young men and women are expected to communicate and the degrees to which they are allowed to have contact with each other.

To me, the differences are astounding. People in Amman are generally expected to not initiate contact with strangers of the opposite gender. It would appear that the only way young people can meet is through mutual friends who can vouch for high character or in a designated environment (university, place of work, family friends, etc). On the other hand, cat-calls and rampant staring are routine among young men in public places where young women pass by. This creates what in economics is referred to as a negative externality: cafes, bars, and other establishments (even malls) will refuse service to young men who are not with women (as in couples or families). The intentions of young men in this environment are assumed less than savory. I should point out that foreign men are—conversely—often assumed to be “good guys.” I am embarrassed to admit that my nationality has granted me admittance into establishments that a Jordanian of my age, gender, and occupation would likely have been denied access to. We have the same biology, dreams, desires, and fears, but the knowledge proprietors have about the young men of their country (or, perhaps put better, lack of knowledge of my culture) leads them to make a rather arbitrary decision. This is particularly surprising because of the images Jordanians receive of Americans as selfish, opulent, sex-driven, and sometimes violent people (thanks, MTV and Hollywood). In spite of these stereotypes being constantly transmitted, people here often assume the young men of my country subscribe to higher moral standards than the young men of Jordan.

I have just described the opposite of the customs I know in the states, where we take for granted the ability to talk to anyone we want—regardless of sex—and when one initiates friendly banter with someone of the opposite gender, intentions are not presumed to be sinister. In fact, it is not uncommon for men and women to be simply—wait for it—friends. Dating between two people is not shunned by the better portion of society but instead serves as perhaps the only route to marriage. Moreover, it is considered creepy and very rude to stare at another person as they walk by, and in my city the only time I ever hear lewd cat-calls is in the wee hours of the morning as the bars begin to shoo away their patrons. These vast differences intrigue me, and I want to know the roots of this (what I perceive to be a) serious problem. Does it stem from the advent of American/Western culture into Jordanian society, or is it something deeper? This is a question I am not academically equipped to answer, but based on what I have seen in my two months here I have of course developed my own mess of thoughts on the matter.

My theory of why these young men behave the way they do in public and the consequent mistrust that pervades this society revolves around the barriers that exist here between men and women. Imagine you are a boy growing up in Jordan. You don’t have much contact with girls your age outside your family, as schools are gender-segregated up until university. Even if you know some girls, your actions, including physical contact (hand holding, footsy, etc) are severely limited by social norms (on the other hand, hand holding and arm locking is quite common among male friends, which I think makes sense—perhaps humans have to have some form of physical contact with their friends and loved ones, not unlike a cat who loves being petted). I think you can agree that your innate human affinity for love, for intimacy and for a partner would inevitably appear in other outlets, maybe even as crude as cat-calling and ogling with friends. Don’t get me wrong; it’s objectifying and I am not trying to defend this behavior, I want only to understand it.

In accord with this trend of reactions to (again, what I perceive as) repressive social norms, many of my Jordanian friends tell me their family frowns upon or outright forbids dating (a Western concept), so they date in secret in parts of town where their friends and extended family are unlikely to spot them.

So that is my theory so far. I am very interested to know others’ thoughts on this matter and am still left with many questions. As a young man I am of course limited in my view; I am curious to hear about this experience from a woman’s perspective. I presume it is more difficult still for gays and lesbians to meet prospective partners. Finally, will the Arab Spring revolutions serve to change social norms as well as political systems and ideas (or is this even necessary)? I am glad to be in a prime part of the world to observe the unfolding of these questions.