Kids' Turn:"Strange days are these (Mama)/Strange days indeed"

This week's question: "What's the strangest thing about living here?"

Jonah (who is sleeping soundly, a'hamd'Allah, but answered the question earlier, sort of): the way people dress.

But he hasn't said anything about this before now, so that is a surprise to us.

Chrispy: The swears . . . and the call to prayer.

I don't think he means that he swears at the call to prayer. And no, I haven't taken to swearing . . . at least not any more than I used to. He means that it's strange to hear kids swear at school, and he's trying very hard not to pick up the habit. In fact, swearing is a kind of call to prayer for him, he tells me: he says a little prayer in his heart whenever he almost swears. Dang good kid. Has a good mom.

Rilo: How you're not supposed to display affection publicly, but all the men touch noses and hold hands. What's up with that?

Ah, yes: homosociality. There are limits to PDoAs between the genders (though we have seen several younger couples, in full Arab dress, holding hands--a next gen thing, I think)--as in no overt interaction before marriage or if not related, but the men are very affectionate with each other. In Italy, men would walk arm-in-arm, and I remember all the homophobes in my mission wigging out over this. Well, this makes that fairly pallid. But I am assured it is simply an expression of friendship, not the manifestation of some latent same-sex attraction, or an outlet for repressed heterosexual desire. After all, there are no gays (for very long) in Iran, so . . . .

No, it is musketeery at its heart. Touching noses, too, which must be terribly greasy, but makes as much sense as the whole cheek thing (obligatory 3 passes--anymore than that and you've broken their version of men's room etiquette. But touching noses happens slowly and carefully.

Mom's minute: segregated waiting rooms. Seriously. We went to the hospital the other day (a glorified clinic) and Jon had to wait in one room and I had to wait in the other. Sucky thing is his had newspapers and a tv; mine had nothing, and it smelled like pee. Most of the people are very understanding that westerners don't dig this arrangement, and the security guard kept offering me papers to read.

Oh, and there're security guards--most of them useless--everywhere! Security guards have security guards!

My ha'pence: It's amazing how after only 6 weeks 40 C doesn't feel hot. We're in trouble if we ever have to go somewhere wintry again. Also, further to Wendy's observation: I got permission from said guard to sit with her in the women's waiting room, and just before we were called back (for the third time), a muslim woman walked in and seemed quite distressed that I was there--like gasping and fretting and behaving like she was in anaphylactic shock. So I offered to leave the room and she said "La, la," which means "No, no," not "I'm humming contentedly to myself because you are such a hot, western god of a man." She gestured for me to remain seated, I think, so I did. And she immediately launched into a new round of cataclysmic sighs and paroxysms.

In other words, in addition to being ware of road surprises, one must always understand that overtly disappointing or confronting people is taboo, so body language and onomatopoeia are more reliable than actual language in deciphering the message. In other other words, if a muslim woman says it is okay for you to remain where you are, but is doing the funky chicken while imitating a stroke patient experiencing myocardial infarction and an aneurism while suffering a severe asthma attack and insulin shock, well, she probably doesn't really mean it. Words to the wise. But don't worry about it. You can stay where you are. No, really. (Infidel.)