Letting go... of pride

Perhaps it is just my pride that is unwilling to part with the comfort of the old and refusing to embrace the challenges of what's new, which would make it not as much of a helpless situation as I would like to believe. It's a decision I've made somewhere to keep reverting to thoughts of what was, and all I need to do is to decide otherwise. I wish it were that easy.

Humair's laundry came back from the Drycleaners yesterday and every single shirt is shrunk, there are stains where there were none and the socks now seem they were meant for a six-year-old. Unless it's the laundry service at a five star hotel, which you cannot avail unless you have a room there, that's how all of your laundry no matter how expensive will end up. Everyone here has the same complaints. My washer dryer combo doesn't dry the clothes properly... it's great at shrinking them, but not drying them. I didn't even know that was possible! Now if we'd like to replace our shrunken laundry, we can pay the same price we did in the US for a designer shirt, and get some poorly designed egyptian made shirt that looks bad, feels bad and won't last even a single wash cycle. It may be little stuff, trivial stuff, but it's enough to make us want to cry. With our every encounter with laundry ensue nostalgic recounts of our nice laundry room in Houston, weekly visits to the not-so-friendly but "they did a great job with my shirts" drycleaner, and occasional shopping trips to the mall where EVERYTHING was available and often on sale. It's almost impossible to move on!

Maybe this is all trivial, but this issue with laundry and other seemingly miniscule troubles are like tiny bread crumbs in the bed that keep us tossing and turning all night. But I suppose, in the end, reality triumphs; we must accept what is and work with it and stop living in the past. If we wait till we are comfortable in our new place, we may never move on.

So it's a decision we must make to never look back at what was, to look forward to making a new life here, to not let these little troubles drag us down and realize we still have it great where we are.... we could have been posted in Sudan, you know. The truth is, troubles are everywhere. If it's not one thing it's another. In the five years we lived in the US I don't think there was single day that we didn't have something or another to be worried or upset about, even if just slightly. It's in our nature to want nothing less than perfect, and in our blind pursuit we miss out on the good life that just passes us by, while we're consumed with complaints and regrets that may or may not be worthwhile.

Life, as part of the Divine Plan, is inherently designed to incite some form of struggle. How we handle ourselves during this struggle is our real test. God has gifted us with creative minds, made us resourceful and it's up to us to decide to make use of what we have. For five years we lived in what is considered the worlds most developed country. For four of those years we lived in locations which were not quite as developed as the rest of the country, but it's resources were never more than a couple of hours' drive away. We made such a big issue of it, so much so that we refused to start a family. So what if the hospital was an hour away? So was the one in Houston... about 45 minutes. So what if the hospital closest to us wasn't the best equipped? I would rather go to the one in Liberal, Kansas than the best one here in Cairo. We could have made it work.... I could have made it work, but when you're looking for excuses, they come running. Life may not have been perfect but in all honesty it was waaaaay better than what it is here. I think of all those wasted evenings that we lost in lieu of the stress of what would happen if our visas expired and how life at work wasn't as perfect as we had imagined. Now we feel stupid for having complained so much, and I need to make that decision so years later I don't feel stupid about now.

There is nothing wrong with wanting perfect, but there is everything wrong with expecting it. I can't wait for perfect to come or, for what now appears near perfect, to return. It isn't so much about being hung-up on the past than it is about being hung-up on an idea... an idea of what life should be like. Humair and I need to decide that as nice as that idea is, it isn't going to happen. We must learn to seek contentment in what we have in our hands and not wait to realize it's worth when it has slipped from them. Good things will come, but they will come with other struggles, different troubles. We have the means to overcome our current troubles. They may be inconvenient, but they are there. We are blessed that we have these means and should consider ourselves lucky.

So here... I'm letting go of my pride and all those ideas of "perfect". I may not have accepted my reality fully just yet, but I've begun a process, and that's quite an achievement in itself. There will be frustrations and I will still need to vent occasionally, but when is life not like that anyway?

Letting Go...

For the longest time, my computer's time and date were set to US Central Time, reflecting the time in Houston. Then one day, some eight weeks following our move to Cairo, I finally mustered the courage to face up to reality.

"Look", I told myself, "You're home is in Cairo now, not in Houston. You're not going back to Houston any time soon. So let go... let that clock in the corner of your screen show what time it is here and not what it is half way across the world, change your homepage because you don't have SBC Yahoo DSL in this part of the world, stop putting your toothbrush back into it's travel case whenever you're finished with it, and stop agonizing yourself incessently by attempting to calculate the time in Cairo everytime by counting 8 hours ahead of what it shows on your watch."

It was a harsh yet necessary talk, and after dragging my feet another week, I finally gave in. I fixed the time and date on my computer, set my watch to the right time, put away my toothbrush's travel case, and emptied out our suitcases completely and put them away. I stopped checking the weather in Houston, cancelled my email subscription for coupons and store specials from the Houston malls and Supermarkets, and stopped picturing how pleasantly sunny my kitchen used to be in the mornings, with clear blue sky hanging on the kitchen window. Here, my kitchen is devoid of any natural light, and the sky here is some brownish hue attempting to be blue but failing miserably. I kept myself busy with thoughts about getting new furniture and accessories for the new place, and figuring out the budget and groceries. I thought about my upcoming trip to Pakistan for Bhaijan's wedding and to clear our container from customs. Soon, Houston became one of the furthest things from my mind. I had accepted Cairo as my home, figured out some of the streets, made a few friends, started thinking about what lay ahead and everything was working out just fine.

On my way back from Lahore last week, I thought about how I should have gotten the battery changed on our watches while I was in Lahore because the last ones we got from the generic store in Houston only lasted six months, whereas the one's we got put in from that store in Liberty Market lasted a good two years. Then... a fleeting thought... I figured, no problem, we could just ask Bailey Banks, and Biddle next time we went to the Houston Galleria if they could put in some longer lasting batteries since they dealt in good watches... I suddenly stopped myself. "Fariha, we don't live in Houston any more, we live in Cairo."

Why is it so hard to let go?

Just curious...

I know that the furthest you can see on a flat plain or out at sea from where you are standing is about 6 miles, which would mean if you looked all the way from left to right, you'd be able to see 12 miles across. But when you're flying at an altitude of 40,000 ft., how many miles across the earths surface can you see then? Once on a trip to Canada from Houston we were flying at 35,000 ft. and the pilot pointed out Amarillo on the left and Okalhoma city on the right. Since it takes about 4 hrs by road at 60 m/h from Oklahoma city to Amarillo staright across on I-40, that would be approx. 240 miles, but we could see about the breadth of Oklahoma city plus vicinity further on each side. Assuming that it's about 30 miles across and adding the breadth of the Oklahoma city and vicinity and Amarillo, I estimate that we could see at least 300 miles across from end to end, but I can't be sure. Fyling to Cairo at 39,000 ft over Italy, from what i could make out of the land below, we could see 200 miles across to the right of the plane (where I was sitting) and coming to Cairo at 40,000 ft, Flying over Saudi and the Red Sea, I estimated the distance to be approx. 200 miles as well, meaning we should be able to see approx. 400 miles across. I wonder if I'm any where close to being right. It's not important, but I'm just curious...

God's Will...

Two months ago, I was told our furniture would be ready in exactly six weeks, "inshallah". That was about two weeks longer than the time any of the other places took to make an order, but I figured, hey, if it takes them that long then fine, as long as it comes out nice. Six weeks go by and I'm told it will take another two weeks, but it would come out perfect, "inshallah". I was a little flustered since 6 weeks was long enough as it was, but I thought maybe the guy is doing a really good job and it's just taking him a bit longer so I won't rush him.

Eight weeks and five days after the order was placed, I am sitting here staring at only HALF the order ("the rest will be there tomorrow at 6pm, inshallah"), and it's not within 1,500 miles of perfect, and I'm not about to let anyone blame God for their poor workmanship, ineptitude and carelessness! Come on, it wasn't really God's Will that came in the way, now, was it? Inshallah just seems to be the perfect excuse... people who use it to guarantee their promises seem to think of it as some magic phrase that instantly relinquishes them of all and any responsibility towards their commitments because they've just passed the buck to God. Now I'm a God fearing person and, yes, I do believe very firmly in the power of God, but you just can't blame God for things falling through if you didn't do what was needed to fulfil your commitment in the first place. I understand if there are things that happen beyond one's control, but how can you blame your own actions (or lack thereof) on God? Tell me you're not a great craftsman and so I should expect flaws. Tell me you like to go on vacation for weeks at a time and so I shouldn't expect to hear about my things till next year. Tell me you're lazy, you're absentminded, you're inept, you procrastinate, you don't know what you're doing... but don't drag God or religion into it. Take some responsibility! They love to bring religion into everything, but they forget the biggest part of religion... accountability.

I just got the call I was waiting for: "Sorry, your furniture will be late; it will be there by 8pm, and one table will come Saturday, but it will come out very nice......... Inshallah. "

And there it is... the magic phrase. Now it could come today, Saturday or next year, and could have a million imperfections; but I can't blame them because, you know, it's all in God's hands now...

Yeah, right... and it has nothing to do with the fact that the carpenter went on a month long vacation and he's not been making it up by working weekends or cutting back on his two hour lunches and tea breaks and now because of my screaming and yelling he's having to hurry up and do a weeks work in a day, not to mention he just isn't a good carpenter...

I'll believe it when I see it. Just get it here... and keep God out of it.