Weddings, Relationships, Sex and Porn

I attended my first Egyptian wedding this weekend. There were all sorts of interesting superficial notes: for example, instead of guys and girls dancing together at the party, the guys all stood in one circle and proceeded to grind on each other, and the girls did the same at the other end of the ballroom. Even married couples didn’t dance with each other. Only the couple getting married danced together. (An aside: given how much Egyptians love sugar, I really shouldn’t have been surprised to see several people serve themselves eight pieces of cake unabashedly. But it was still funny.)

The wedding was certainly an interesting experience, but it got me thinking about how each of our cultures has determined one should find a mate. It’s almost like different cultures just have different “mating dances,” with clearly defined rules and expectations.

In Egypt, especially outside of Cairo and Alexandria, couples are often set up by their parents. They may meet a few times – probably with a chaperone – before the big day. But for the most part the two kids (I say kids because many are younger than me) are total strangers when they wed. Divorces happen but are not encouraged, and it’s difficult for a woman to initiate a divorce unless she can prove her husband has been unfaithful. So you get married, and you’re kind of stuck. And yet, that’s how entire populations do it.

Conversely, in America, you are groomed to find someone on your own. As an adolescent you are taught to search for someone with similar values, a personality that stretches yours, and maybe someone who induces a Disney-like sense of “love.” Parents offer feedback when they meet their children’s significant others to try to condition their children into picking acceptable mates, but most parents wouldn’t dream of trying to “veto” an adult child’s choice in a spouse – at least not explicitly. If anything, there is pressure to approve outwardly of anyone your child chooses. There are a number of things can kill a relationship before you ever walk down the aisle. If one of those things happens, you move on and find someone else.

Now, I must admit, I love having choices, especially regarding whom I will marry. I have seen American friends enter into truly remarkable marriages that likely never would have happened if their parents had been responsible for finding their children's partners. Egyptian parents are also much less likely to choose appropriate mates for our LGBT brothers and sisters. I'm glad I grew up in the American context. But maybe there’s something to be said for sucking up your pride and deciding that you’re going to be happy with someone because you don’t have a choice.

I remember when I first arrived in Chinguetti with Peace Corps. I didn’t know my sitemate at all. I think she and I would both admit that we had some major personality clashes early on. But neither Jessica nor I had any say in who our sitemates would be, so we just quit feeling sorry for ourselves, and before long we became best friends. We provided each other with support on tough days, we saw each other cry, and we celebrated victories together. We endured all that Mauritania could throw at us – and believe me, it was a lot – and we came to respect each other in the process. By halfway through my year in Chinguetti, I was already dreading the day that Jessica would leave. In my 15 months since leaving Chinguetti, I have kept in contact with Jessica regularly, and I miss her dearly.

It’s amazing how much you can come to value someone just by deciding you have to. When you spend enough time with someone, you find things to value in that person. When you find enough things to value in a person (even if you have to remind yourself of those things often), you find intimacy, companionship, and even “love.”

Now I have been assigned a new sitemate on the other end of the Sahara. Nick and I planned to live together before ever having a conversation with each other. And, once again, it’s been totally great. We have different personalities, different living styles (somehow he hasn’t killed me for my messiness yet), and we are even at different points in our lives. He’s just out of college: the world is his oyster. I’m a couple years out of college, I’ve worked in three vastly different settings, and I have a definite plan for after Fulbright. But we can still relate.

Experiences like this make me think that if we had no choice about who we spent our lives with, maybe we would make it work, just for sanity’s sake. Maybe there isn’t something morally superior about searching around for your “soulmate” for years. Maybe there’s wisdom in sucking up one’s pride and just deciding to be happy. Maybe this is just another style of “mating dance” that humans have developed to foster intimacy… or at least to propagate the species.

That all said, I’ve also seen some marriages fall to shreds here. But marriages fall apart in the States too, and I’m not willing to chalk up all Egypt’s marital problems to a flawed Egyptian “mating dance.” Furthermore, I only spent one year with Jessica, and I will only spend one year with Nick – hardly the same as spending the rest of my life with someone. Sometimes there are very legitimate reasons for ending a marriage, and I don't mean to downplay those. I also don't want to make it sound like a relationship that lasts forever is "successful" while one that doesn't is not. I think these are important notes because I don’t want to sound like I’m idolizing the Egyptian method of selecting a spouse. This was just a theory. I’m still trying to figure out how much I believe it myself.

The rest of this entry will be filled with random notes on friendship, dating, and sex and (dare I say it?) pornography in Egypt:

It bothers me that when Nick and I hang out with friends here, we are always hanging out with just guys. It wouldn’t be appropriate for girls to join our group. How could Egyptians go through their entire life without being friends with anyone of the opposite sex? In the words of one friend here, “We don’t know what we’re missing, so it doesn’t really bother us.” Other Egyptians will insist that guys and girls can be friends here, but the examples they give of other-gendered friends are often co-workers that they never see outside of work. “We can work together without any problems – see, guys and girls can be friends!” When I try to explain that some of my dearest friends are women, and that there’s nothing romantic between us, they usually either don’t believe me, or they insist it could never work in Egypt.

An interesting note is that in Cairo and Alexandria, the largest cities in Egypt, it’s becoming increasingly popular for couples to date, even with their parents’ blessing, before they get married. When I arrived, I chalked this up to the superiority of the Western system for finding a mate. As different systems entered the “marketplace of ideas,” our system was emerging as victorious. Condescending? You betcha. But aren’t most holders of progressive ideas at least a little condescending?

Also interesting has been observing how frequently groups of guys will discuss sex here, often very explicitly. Maybe guys really are the same everywhere in the world. One wonders whether these discussions are merely reflections of their high school counterparts in America – I think back to awkward conversations where guys not only offered up any insights they had gained through experience (or at least watching explicit movies), but also tentatively waffled on meatier topics because they didn’t want to say something that might be called out as a lie. How many of our guy friends here are as experienced as they say? How many really have nine girlfriends? And do these men really just view their current (secret) girlfriends as sex objects to be enjoyed until their parents set them up with someone respectable? Or is there an emotional connection there too? More likely, are they just trying to show off by seeming experienced, when in reality they haven’t spent an hour alone with anyone of the opposite sex in their entire lives?

A final noteworthy bit is the prevalence of pornography here. I noticed this same phenomenon on the other end of the desert. Mauritanian men watch porn together. A lot. Sometimes at work. So it shouldn’t have been too shocking when my Egyptian guard (see: two entries back) whipped out his cell phone to show me pictures of two naked women having sex with props. He did not understand when I recoiled in shock. So apparently, Allah doesn’t care about porn, but guys and girls aren’t allowed to be friends. Makes total sense.

Really, what all this emphasizes is how impressed I am with anyone who dates or marries someone from another culture. I’m not talking about when an American dates a Western European, either. There are cultural differences there too, sure. But when even the processes of meeting significant others are culturally defined, and those processes are defined very differently, how does one even begin? Somehow people from totally different cultures date, get married, have kids, and live happily ever after. It happens. Last month we met a former Fulbrighter who married an Egyptian man and now wears a niqab (full body covering for women). Could I ever do that? Well, thank Allah I wouldn’t have to don a niqab, but would I make any sort of similar commitment/sacrifice? She also moved to a small village; could I contentedly spend the rest of my life in such a setting? I’d like to think I’m open-minded enough – but frankly, I doubt it. And, since I’ve been groomed in our Western tradition of having a choice about who my spouse will be, if I don’t want to marry someone from a culture totally different from mine, I probably never will.

That said, I left the wedding this weekend with a rose from the wedding bouquet – a sign that I will get married soon. Maybe I shouldn’t rule anything out. :)