Today is Valentine’s Day, kind of an auspicious date to restart blogging but I did have an unexpected bout of inspiration from an erudite and erstwhile source.
Having been “in Kingdom” for over six weeks now, I can say without hesitation to all my good black and Latino friends, “I get it.” It’s tough to be the minority. Living over here has been much better than I expected. Let me state that one more time for the record, “it has been good, very good.” Most if not all of the Saudis I have encounters are genuinely kind, good-natured people. The men that I work with, the guys at the gym, the fellas, all of them are a great group. But they are still a DIFFERENT group.
Do I feel like an outsider? Yes. Does it bother me? A little. Will I get over it? Probably. Will it take some time? Sure. Everything worth doing takes time. Let’s face it, this is a very different place than the good ol’ US of A, and I have never spent any time outside of my homeland. But I do feel like I am trying… I try to meet someone new every day. Strike up a conversation with a person on the lunch line, in the gym and at the office in a sincere attempt to get to know each individual as people.
Unfortunately, there is a reason stereotypes exist, because at a very basic level there do contain some “truth.” I guess I would define a stereotype as a standardized and simplified conception of groups, based on some prior assumptions. Now few of us would knowingly bases our opinions of others either individually or collectively on "prejudice" but in reality that’s exactly what we do.
I will simply use myself as an example; I have often been accused of being an “Ugly American” and a “WASP” (for those playing the home game that stands for White Anglo-Saxon Protestant). My people’s “gifts” to the world come down to two areas: we can make a mean Martini and we keep retail economy afloat. (Come on, stores like The Gap, The Bombay Company and Starbucks were made for people “like me.”) But just because it’s true for me, doesn’t mean it’s true for everyone that looks like me, acts like me and has a similar background.
My grandmother said never judge a book by its cover. Nowhere has that axiom been truer than here in the Middle East. Good friends and fun acquaintances come in all shapes and sizes here and closing yourself off to new opportunities because you ignorantly and shamefully cling to “old world” stereotypes would be stupid. After all, I am the guest in their homeland. I am the minority living in their culture. I should not (or cannot) expect them to change; while a little bit of well-placed change will do me good.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Monday, February 15, 2010
December 31, 2009 – “Springtime for Hitler and Germany”
All I can say is curse Mel Brooks and his hilarious musical “The Producers,” because as soon as I stepped off the plane into Frankfurt that song just got locked in my head. (I know it’s extremely offensive to the German people, but the mind does what the mind wants, at least I wasn’t goose-stepping around the airport.)
I immediately took note of the vast size of this facility. No I realize this little excursion was my first experience outside the Western Hemisphere, but this damn airport looked BIG! I mean I thought O’Hare, LAX or Atlanta was big… this collection of runways and buildings in Frankfurt should most definitely have its own area code.
It took 45 minutes to walk from my plane to the Business Class lounge (and I walk pretty darn fast, since I am from the NYC area). And as great as the service and experience was FLYING Lufthansa, it was equally disappointing on the GROUND. The club was just plain awful, nothing of substance to eat, a horrible selection of drinks (both regular and alcoholic… and let’s face it I was in the mood to drink since I was counting down to the arrival in my new, dry as teetotaler workplace.) The capper on the whole thing was….drum roll please… no FiWi at all? WTF?!?! Did Europe just miss the last decade of the wireless internet revolution?
My mistake was not trying to catch a some shuteye and sleep through the whole disappointing experience, but I was too afraid that I would sleep right through my flight and make a wonderful first impression the folks flying me over 10-thousand miles to work for them.
Finally, I have to say that German friendliness is kind of like English haute cuisine, it hasn’t been recorded in the over 10,000 years of human existence. They are polite, but as you know being polite doesn’t mean you are being friendly. Just ask any woman who has ever shopped for cosmetics at a department store. The young ladies (using the term loosely, like their boyfriends hope they are) behind the counter are polite, but not really nice. Where else does the spoken word “ma’am” seem to sound more like “bitch?” As in, “Yes, ma’am (bitch). Of course you look like a summer ma’am. (dried up wrinkly bitch). These colors work well for more senior women with a winter complexion ma’am (stupid old bitch).”
I immediately took note of the vast size of this facility. No I realize this little excursion was my first experience outside the Western Hemisphere, but this damn airport looked BIG! I mean I thought O’Hare, LAX or Atlanta was big… this collection of runways and buildings in Frankfurt should most definitely have its own area code.
It took 45 minutes to walk from my plane to the Business Class lounge (and I walk pretty darn fast, since I am from the NYC area). And as great as the service and experience was FLYING Lufthansa, it was equally disappointing on the GROUND. The club was just plain awful, nothing of substance to eat, a horrible selection of drinks (both regular and alcoholic… and let’s face it I was in the mood to drink since I was counting down to the arrival in my new, dry as teetotaler workplace.) The capper on the whole thing was….drum roll please… no FiWi at all? WTF?!?! Did Europe just miss the last decade of the wireless internet revolution?
My mistake was not trying to catch a some shuteye and sleep through the whole disappointing experience, but I was too afraid that I would sleep right through my flight and make a wonderful first impression the folks flying me over 10-thousand miles to work for them.
Finally, I have to say that German friendliness is kind of like English haute cuisine, it hasn’t been recorded in the over 10,000 years of human existence. They are polite, but as you know being polite doesn’t mean you are being friendly. Just ask any woman who has ever shopped for cosmetics at a department store. The young ladies (using the term loosely, like their boyfriends hope they are) behind the counter are polite, but not really nice. Where else does the spoken word “ma’am” seem to sound more like “bitch?” As in, “Yes, ma’am (bitch). Of course you look like a summer ma’am. (dried up wrinkly bitch). These colors work well for more senior women with a winter complexion ma’am (stupid old bitch).”
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