Dedicated to the Arab Moms I Know

Stock photo by Chanikarn Thongsupa 

 

NOTE:  This post is about the bond I’ve had with the Arab mothers.  I’ve had plenty of Arab female friends over the years, but this is dedicated to the moms.

 

I have known Arab people for the majority of my life.  If you are a reader of this blog for any amount of time, you will be aware that I have dated a “few” Arab men.  In my 20’s and 30’s, I wouldn’t have given much of a thought about meeting the parents.  There were going to be obvious hurdles in dating a Muslim man, and would I ever being accepted;  as dating is not a thing in Islam.  You can do that once you’re engaged and that’s about it.  But times have changed and couples getting to know each other before marriage/engagement is far more prevalent.

Being young, immature and uncaring, I always thought that if my man was determined enough, we wouldn’t need parental approval.  And over years, I met many male members of the family, fathers and uncles.  Men who I thought were decision makers in a family.  That seems amusing to me now, having a deeper understanding of Arab culture and who really runs the show.

I met older Western women married to Arab men who often asked, “Have you met his mom or any of his sisters?”  'Why?  I met his dad and his uncle and they’re cool with me.'  Unless you meet The Queen Mother, you’re never truly in.  The old saying that, “You don’t just marry the man.  You marry his whole family.”  is particularly true in the Middle East.

I’ve been thinking about this subject (and my journey) recently and how much I truly value my Arab women friends and all their kindnesses over the years.

 

My thoughts recently are of a mom who completely rejected me years ago (and yet her sister wife adored me). 

I met Mr. Clean (mentioned in previous posts) on my way home from work one day.  He was handsome and younger than me and within 2 months, had asked me to accompany him to meet his Bedouin family and in particular, his dad.  Clean was serious about me and this was the first step.  Ok, so I suited up with hijab and abaya and we went to their home in a largely Bedouin area of Kuwait (where a blonde would be immediately spotted by neighbors so the hijab wasn’t just out of respect for the family.  I took it off when I was inside the house.). Dad, Abu Clean and I were immediate fast friends.  I was introduced to most of the family that day (and invited back every weekend to share in their family meals on Fridays.  Clean's second mom (Abu Clean’s second wife who I will call Um Clean-2) was a loving, kind and hospitable hostess.

 

The first mom (Clean's biological mom), however, had no intention of meeting me and from things I heard, wasn’t happy about the arrangement.  It didn’t matter much regardless because Clean took off to Thailand soon after and that was the end of our relationship.  Much to his dismay, however, I had become part of the family according to his dad and I was still expected to participate in Friday meals regardless.  I was now, “The American Daughter” and was introduced that way.

When I moved back to the States, Abu Clean called me often and would send me morning prayers daily.  I would talk to his wife, Um Clean-2, and they would tell me how much they missed me.  Sadly, Abu Clean passed away of cancer several years ago and Um Clean-2 and I would call each other and cry.  Sometimes we wouldn’t even talk – we would just cry on the phone.  He has left a terrible void and his loss has loosened the bonds of the family.  I miss him all the time and his laughter echoes in my mind.  He was such a strong, caring man with a white heart.

 

It was at this point that Um Clean (biological mother) started showing interest in being my friend.  She had heard so much about me from everyone in the family over the years and the loss of dad had brought the two wives together in friendship, so they often discussed me (and probably everything else in the world).  Um Clean and I have gotten much closer and now we all send each other morning prayers. 

I saw the whole family again (both wives sat next to each other)  when I returned to visit Kuwait last December.  We met at their camp in the desert and had a wonderful time together.  And what happened to Mr. Clean?  Well, he met a Moroccan lady online this year and they immediately got married (I don’t think either of the mothers approve, but we all wish them well). Maybe it has been the reason why Um Clean and I have gotten so close lately (?)

Another example of how I made lifelong female Arab friends was when I was dating the married Desert Dude.  He is from a prominent well-known Kuwaiti family.  He made it clear the day we met that he thought most women were after him for his money.  I laughed and told him that I have my own money, but I thought he was handsome (not exactly what I said) and I walked away.  A mutual friend connected us later.   He had 3 children and I had met them all.  It didn’t seem abnormal at the time for him to introduce his children to me.  He spent most of his time in the desert camp in the winter or summer RV compound next to the Gulf in the summer. 

I knew things weren’t great with his wife and it was confirmed the day that she called me (whaaaaat?!) to invite me to break fast with them during Ramadan.  I remember asking one of my friends, “What the Hell do I wear to meet my boyfriend’s wife during Ramadan?” I remember my friend, Ladies Who Do Lunch in Kuwait (LWDLIK) saying, "A pretty duraa and some heels."  The anxiety was killing me and I thought about backing out, but she had been so gracious on the phone.  I went.  I met her, Desert Dude’s Lawyer Wife (DDLW), and she couldn’t have been nicer.  I then met her sister and her brother and have had many meals with them over the years.  As she said, “He’s a great father, but a terrible husband.”  They stay married to raise their children, but have separate lives.  She asked me once, “What do you think of his girlfriends?”  I guess I was the only one she’s ever met.  The whole thing was pretty amusing and confusing.  I only dated him for a few months, but we have all remained close friends for over a decade.  He has even had me talk to his mother on the phone a few times (she makes the best tashreeba that I’ve ever tasted!)  I hope I’ll be able to meet her in person one day Inshallah.

Bu Merdas' mother died this month and she is one of the women I would have loved to get to know.  I could feel her kindness through him.  It was like arms stretching out to hug me without me ever knowing her.  Bu Merdas and I have a special bond and it is like we feel things through each other without words.  (If you believe in that kind of thing.)  I have always felt his mother’s presence and it makes me sad that she is gone. 

Another woman who I regret not ever meeting was Um ReeRu.  We were close to being engaged (or maybe we were?  I never said no, but I never said yes) and she was the one who told him to marry me when I was too young to settle down (am I old enough yet???).  She used to send me little gifts and we spoke on the phone. 

I would like to write a little about The Man and Mrs. The Man, but it is too personal. Let me just say that everything happens for a reason and I am blessed to have gotten to know her.  And to be able to claim her children as my step-children.  That part of my life has enriched my world.

I’ve got some questioning responses when I tell Kuwaiti friends these stories.  “What kind of people do you KNOW?!” Kuwait is so divided by religious sects and socioeconomic status that this is often a common question I received.  I know everybody from all walks of life in Kuwait and I don't differentiate until I receive derogatory comments about who I know, what family they are from, what sect they are from, if they are from "inside or outside the gate".  If I named names, it would be scandalous because everyone knows everyone in the small town country of Kuwait.  As a former employer – a very pious man – once told me, “You are blessed that people confide in you.  Know that it is a blessing.”  It has been a blessing and a journey and made me who I am.