American or not......the journey home

When I was visiting Israel as a tourist, my American passport got me waived through checkpoints like a privileged elite.  I could go anywhere I wanted with little or no impediment or restraint.  After over 5 months of marriage to my young Palestinian husband, he finally got his papers done and his visa came and we began packing to go to my birth country.  

The first hurdle was the first checkpoint.   My American passport still helped me but Esam  and the other Palestinians were detained for about 30 minutes.  An hour later, we approached the first airport checkpoint.  The car stopped and we all had to get out.  Our bags were placed on a table and we were made to watch as the Israeli soldiers opened our bags and inspected them.  The soldiers asked me what I was doing with this Palestinian;.  I told them I was married to him.  They made snide remarks about that and began rifling through the suitcase.  They took my tampons out and opened one in front of me and asked what it was.  The smirks on their faces were awful;  I was very embarrassed  because I was not used to anyone making reference to any menstrual products openly in that way and they were jeering at me. 
After making  rude remarks about the sexual performance of my husband, they gave us our suitcases back and we got in the car and proceeded to the terminal security. 

 In the terminal, the security opened our bags, ate some of the Arabic sweets we had packed to give to family in New York,  and asked us all kinds of questions. One of them asked me why I married a boy with a little dick when I could have had a man.  I   was mortified.  I didn't know what to say.  They dragged out my underwear and laughed. They messed up the whole suitcase in their search. 

The men took Esam away  and took me to a small booth where two Israeli women frisked me and asked me why I was married to him.  I was getting scared then; terrified  they wouldn't let us board the plane home.  They began asking me all sorts of questions.   Did he promise me money? Did he kidnap me?  Did his family force me to marry him?  When I answered no to all of these they then told me he only married me for my money and to get to America.  They also asked why I  married  him instead of a good American?  When I said I  loved him they laughed at me and said "How can you love him, he is a boy?  He can't be good for you in bed."  I wanted  the floor to swallow me up at that point. 

They finally let me go and I was taken back to our bags. Esam  joined me after a few more minutes.  We were allowed to close our bags and check them.  Then we finally boarded the flight.  I was sort of in shock still.  While we were buckling in, Esam told me they strip searched him and he asked if they had done the same to me.  I told him how they questioned me and frisked me.  The humiliation was not something I had ever experienced in my life.  I realized just how sheltered my life had been and how his life had been oppressed from the time he was born.   I felt violated;   those people had deliberately wanted to hurt me and I was not used to that kind of abuse at the hands of people in those kinds of positions.  I had always felt protected by security;  now I just felt  dirty, afraid,  and small.  The thought came to me that my new husband grew up with that kind of demoralizing humiliation.  He experienced it on a regular basis;  all Palestinians  lived  marginalized lives under occupation.

As the plane lifted off, I was both glad and deeply sad to be leaving.  A part of my heart and soul were always going to be in the Old City and the Village of Jaba'a.   I was not looking forward to returning home because for me, my birth country didn't really feel like home.  My young husband was embarking on his first journey away from his homeland;  away from his family and everything familiar.  He would  be in a new culture, a new country, and in a new life.   I wondered if he would like my country;  he was so eager to  begin his new life there.  We held hands a lot during the flight;  two very young and inexperienced lovers beginning a new life.

Marriage.....in a different way

We got up and dressed.  I was going to a  religious judge to make the declaration of Islam to show that I had converted.  I would have to do this in order to marry my young Muslim Palestinian lover.   The chambers were in Ramallah so it would mean getting a ride in a produce truck and passing through an Israeli checkpoint.  My American passport gave me easy pass but my lover and his male relatives had to wait and be inspected and detained for a half an hour; a short time made so by my presence. because typically it would take more than an hour.  

We stopped in front of a typical Ramallah building and went up a couple flights of stairs.  We waited our turn and then I was to step up to a judge in a room filled with wooden floors, wooden furniture and a wooden desk-like table the judge sat behind.  It was a bit raised like many judge benches are.  The judge, Esam and I were the only ones in the room;  our voices echoed  in the quiet.  The judge was dressed in some robes with a wrapped thing around his head that I had seen on other Arabs.   He spoke to Esam  for a moment and then turned to me and said in English;  "Are you prepared to renounce your faith and become a Muslim?"  I replied "I have no organized faith; yes I am ready."  He then explained that Islam is not a religion that seeks converts; people must only choose it out of their own free will.  He asked me if I  was I being forced, bribed, pressured or coerced and I said I wasn't. He asked if I was converting out of my own free will.  I replied that I was.   He asked me if I understood the basic tenets of  Islam.  I said I did.  He asked me what those were and I  said in English that there is only one merciful God and Muhammad is His prophet.  He asked if I could say that in Arabic and, having rehearsed with   Esam, I said I could.  "Please state  the Shahada for me then" he said.  He was a wise and kindly man and I felt it in the tone of his words with me.  I took a breath and, in perfect pronunciation I said, "Ash hadu, la illaha, il Allah w ana Muhammad rasool Allah."  He was surprised that  I sounded like I had been speaking Arabic my whole life.  He complimented me on that and then stamped a small paper with a beautiful Arabic symbol and handed this to me.   I was now officially Muslim and  free to marry Esam. 

We left the building and walked to a jewelry store where Esam and his father bought us our wedding bands.  They were 22 karat gold bands etched with beautiful patterns.  

We got into another produce truck and began the drive to Kalendia where  the actual legal ceremony would take place.  After going through another checkpoint, we arrived at the Imam's home.  We were shown inside a  shadowed room where there were couch-seats all around the room and a table in the center.  The room was small and the tiles on the floor echoed our steps.

The  Imam greeted us and  Esam's father, older brother, paternal Uncle Mahmoud, and maternal Uncle Ali all joined us.  The Imam's wife served tea to everyone and some cakes and then left.  The Imam discussed with the men the marriage contract.  Ami Mahmoud represented me (because my father was not there) and though I didn't understand what they said, I realized they were working the marriage contract out and that I was at least being represented.  Then the Imam turned to me and asked me in English  how old I was.  I told him I was 19.  Then he asked me if I was coming to this marriage of my own  free will. I said I was.  Then he turned to Esam and in English ( for my benefit)  asked him the same questions.  Then after some more discussion, Esam and I signed the contract and the Imam told Esam to explain to me what it said.  Esam agreed to do so. The the Imam said  a prayer and when it was done, everyone placed their hands on their faces as though wiping them clean and they all said "Ameen"  which means "it is done"  or "so be it."  We all got up and  the men said their good-byes.  I had been told to be quiet through most of it so I  remained quiet and the Imam didn't shake my hand (nor did I offer it). 

The whole time I was sitting there the feeling I had was that this was another life, another place, another time.  When the prayer was over I could feel a sense of the gravity of the day, the momentousness of my words as I said I was coming of my own free will to this marriage.  Wasn't marriage forever?  I barely knew this young man; I felt a connection with him but would that connection withstand our cultural differences?

Esam got into the back seat of the produce truck and as we waited for the other members of his relatives to climb into the back truck bed (now empty of produce) he turned to me, took my hand,  and his eyes were shining.   He placed the wedding ring on my finger  then put his on.  He kept holding my hand as he said,  "Carrie, my heart will break;  I love you this day and  I wish I could run free  in the fields with you."    I didn't know what he meant by that but much later I would come to understand his heartfelt words and the restraints that held him back. We were both so very young.

He kept my hand in his as we returned to his home in the village.  His mother welcomed me home, calling me "daughter" in Arabic and hugged me. Fareedah also called me "sister" and hugged me. I felt so welcomed!  These people knew I was from another culture, another religion and another land but they treated me as though I was a well loved daughter and sister of the family.  There was food and then the preparations began.  For three days there would be celebrating, feasting and dancing to culminate with my "wedding" day.  Through out the merriment and celebrating, I never forgot his quiet and soulful words on our legal marriage day. 

The next morning, we were awakened by his mother.  He was in the middle of making love to me as she knocked on the door. He called out "wait!" as we finished. Then he got up and went out;  I said I needed time to dress and wash myself so he went out alone.  There were buckets of clean cold water in the room and a large, metal round shallow wash pan.  I washed myself   and I heard  several women (who had arrived that morning) calling out the door in  loud voices.  Later I was to learn they were  announcing  the wedding ceremony of Esam and I.  When I came out of the room, all these women crowded around me and ushered Esam out of the house to go celebrate with the men.  More women came and they sat me in the other room off the main front  room.  They took my hands  and washed them.   Then they used dough and made some symbols and placed these on my hands.  They put this green muddy stuff on both my hands and  told me to wait there as they served tea and food and sang and celebrated.  After about 45 minutes, they brought a bucket of cool water and another pan to catch the water and had me wash my hands  as they poured the water for me.   When the mud was washed off, my hands  were orange except for where the dough symbols had been.  I realized they had hennaed my hands.  Then I was served tea and food and fruit.  Everyone of the women were dressed in the most beautiful dresses with hand embroidered flowers and geometrical patterns on them. 

As the day waned, Esam returned and  showed his hands, they were also hennaed.   He said it is a custom for married people to have their hands hennaed and to have a month off after they marry.  He explained that we would be invited to dinner every night for a month to people's homes in the village.  It was not until late that everyone left and I finally had time with him alone.  He made love to me again; this was becoming an every night, every morning thing and I was enjoying it when I was able to climax;  that was hit or miss so often I felt frustrated.  

The next day was similar except for the henna;  the women came and the men stayed outside;  people celebrated  by just hanging around and eating all day.  The third day, I was awakened early and Esam and his relatives took me to Ramallah.  I was taken to a beauty shop to have my hair fixed and my face made up.  The problem was, I had very thin hair and they had trouble getting it to do what they wanted.  Also the make up they used was too dark for me;  my skin was really pale by then (it being spring) so I looked like a hooker in the dark blue eye shadow, black eye liner, black mascara, dark red rouge and dark red lipstick.  Then I was taken to a bridal shop where I tried on a few dresses until they found one that fit me.  It had beading and had those hoops beneath that made the whole dress bell out like an dress from the 1800's.  The veil came next and then I was taken back to the house. 

When we got back to the house, I could smell food (and I was getting hungry) but I was placed in the room I  had been sleeping in (which was actually Fareedah & Jemell's room) with a lot of young girls.  Meanwhile, the men were outside and the other room was festooned with decorations, a table and two chairs on the table were set up.  While I waited, the young teenage girls belly danced for me and their movements were enchanting. They had such innocent yet graceful  hip and belly movements but they were not in belly dancing costumes; just long shirts over pants with a long scarf tied around their hips.   Someone brought me food and water and I ate while the others sang and danced. 

Later, Esam came for me and we went outside to a car.  Ami Mahmoud led  me to the car (as representing my father) and Esam and I got into the back of the car.  Women of the village, dressed in their finest embroidered dresses and scarves danced around the car as it slowly made its way around the village and then came back.  When we came back, Esam handed me out and escorted me to the decorated room.  This was a symbol of me leaving my father and going to my husband's home. 

We got up on the chairs on the table and sat there while the room filled with women and chidlren of all ages.  They sang, danced and gave us money.  Then Esam took me down and we danced together; not slow dancing close but more like line dancers do and I whirled with my belled skirt and enjoyed the Arabic music and the clapping and stomping of feet.  Then Esam left to dance with the men  while young girls shyly took my hand and danced with me.  This went on long past dark (and Esam joined me several times).  Then everyone left and he and I went to bed in his brother's room for the last time.   In the darkness, he told me we needed to make a handkerchief of virginity to show the villagers.  It was fortunate that I was on my period because I could just put some blood on it in the morning and he would have it if needed.

The next morning, we were awakened at the crack of dawn with  several women insisting on seeing me.  Again, we were in the middle of making love (with the handkerchief under me) when they knocked and I asked Esam for time to at least wash and brush my hair and don my robe.  He inched out the door and told them I was shy and needed a bit of time. 

In a few minutes, I opened the door and found several women pinching my cheeks and making comments about me (which I gathered were flattering).   There were some questions going on but Esam kept putting them off until he finally disappeared into the room we shared and came back with a handkerchief with some blood  and semen on it. This seemed to satisfy the women but I was embarrassed.  Then they let me go back and get dressed.  

The rest of the day, we had no time alone and this went on for a month.  We only had time alone at night.  I told Esam that in my culture, newlyweds get time alone called the "honeymoon" to bond and be together without anyone else but he said in his culture people want to see the newlyweds  so we had visitors all day, every day for that month and spent every evening in someone's home eating until late.  Eventually I got used  to that and relaxed but I always wished we could have had more time to ourselves without the cultural constraints.

Back to the Goddess

Are you feeling it? That connection to the universe, the goddess, the god, the divine? That unexplainable shift in consciousness that takes your heart and soul away from every day life into a realm wherein you feel SO much. It is deep, weepy, emotional, sensitive, expansive and quiet. I t is the darkness and the warmth of the earth. The deep night skies and the flowing waters.

In my every day life I do not feel it most times but sometimes, some days, I feel it intensely and this is one of those days.

Love, passion, inexplicable energy. I miss the days when I was unattached and unencumbered so that I could just go out and touch this and hang out with others who felt the same and do ritual. I miss those times.

This depth of feeling can cause me to be out of touch with my daily requirements and the shift to that otherness makes it hard to be real in the here and now.

In "the Mists of Avalon" the character expresses that longing she has when she is separated from Avalon and the Goddess. I miss those times back when I was in my 20's and I could just go with a group of women and dance; spiraling in ecstasy and joy as one with the universe. Marriage and children have kept me busy and I live in my Virgo rising mostly so I usually remain efficient, rational, the worker. Today, with the cloudy, rainy skies I am feeling that shift, that calling again and it weighs on my heart.

Those who have felt that calling know the heaviness, the deep feelings that are so much they well over and spill out in tears and reverence. I feel Her and She calls to me for the first time in YEARS. I had forgotten this feeling. In the rush of life, the responsibilities of family and marriage I had forgotten Her touch but today She calls me and I am overwhelmed. I am, again, one with the universe and all is well.

More is better?

 Some people seem content with their lives and themselves for the most part and others seem to have an inner restlessness and neediness. 

When I was growing up, my brother and I were very different.  I was happy with what I had, with the attention I got from our parents and with life in general for the most part.  He was never satisfied with what he got, with the attention he was given and with his life in general.  This made him restless, jealous, unhappy and malcontent all the time.  If our mother gave us two cookies, I was happy to get two cookies but he argued for more.  If she spent time with him and gave him attention, he needed more.  He needed so much that she often felt exhausted by his needs and said that out loud.

This is not totally a learned trait.  I know this because I see it in my own children.  One is a lot like my brother; no matter how much attention or things she gets, she seems to need more.  The other is contented and happy with herself and her life.   I fear the first  will never be happy.  People like that are never satisfied no matter how much they have or how much attention they get.  There are arguments which say  that such people are the ones who do great things because they are not content  with things as they are.  Perhaps that is so but at what personal, happiness price do they accomplish such things?

As a parent, I wish happiness for my children.  Of course I know they will not be happy all the time but what parent would wish to sit back and see their child suffer unhappiness?  I cannot do anything about it but I wish there were some way to help.

Some people are not malcontent but ADD.  ADD causes people to be restless and  always seeking novelty to reduce boredom.  

Malcontents and ADD folks not only feel unhappy, they often induce unhappiness in others.  When a malcontent or ADD person   marries a contented, non-ADD  person, there can be problems.  The malcontent/ADD  may desire location changes a lot or job changes or partner changes.  This causes a lot of misery for the contented partner and the children because children need stability.

Too often, a malcontent/ADD person marries a contented person because opposites attract and the contented person is not as likely to leave or cheat.  The contented person ends up hurt because the malcontent/ADD person never seems satisfied no matter what the contented person is or does.  It is really important for the contented person to realize that it isn't them;  they cannot make their malcomtented/ADD partner happy.

Malcontents and ADD people  have to be made responsible for their actions; especially those which are harmful to others such as cheating.  The old "if you love me you will let me" is bullshit and the worst kind of emotional manipulation.  Using ADD or malcontent as an excuse is not healthy.  People get hurt, children get damaged and the malcontent/ADD person should be able to consider others' needs as well as their own and work for balance.

Our society helps induce a sense of malcontent.  The media plays a role in this because people are told they would be happier if they bought this product or lived this lifestyle when in fact, the opposite is usually true.  We are surrounded by messages that tell us we never have enough; enough money, time, attention, sex, love, house, prestige, etc.   So even if a person is not genetically malcontent or ADD, they still may act like that due to social conditioning which was designed to sell products and promote consumption.

This way of socializing people begins in childhood and is a non-stop bombardment throughout life.  Between this bombardment and the social message that the individual is all-important (as opposed to the group or family); we have become a culture of malcontents.  The fallout is that our children are damaged and unhappy.

Whether it is from genetics or socialization, the malcontent has to stop or at least be managed better.  Our families, relationships, and especially our kids need a better way to live.

Changing

I am changing.  This past year has been amazing.  I met a wonderful friend who taught me things I wouldn't have known otherwise.  Though she is more than ten years younger than I, I learned so much from her.  As  result of her and other people as well as inner changes that are coming (Chiron Return, soon) I have made a lot of changes in my life.

The first change was in how I spend my time.  Last year, I would get up, do my class work and if I had time, I would teach my son or help my daughters with school.  Meals were not cooked, life was hectic, the kids suffered and I felt totally out of control and inadequate.  My friend's life of just being a wife and stay-at-home mom seemed out of reach but oh so attractive to me.  This year, I changed my schedule.  Now I do my classwork in the early mornings (after taking some time for myself) and then spend my time with my son when he awakens.  I spend time with my daughters during the day and get dinner on time.  I spend evenings with my husband too.  What changed?  I spend a lot less time doing my school work.  I no longer care if I get "A's" in those classes because doing that took away from the people I love the most and caused me awful angst and tension.  As long as I pass each class, that's good enough.

The second thing I did was I started a diet that is controversial but tweaked it to be healthy and work for me.  I began deliberately losing weight for the first time.  I have lost 110 lbs since May 14th and I feel so much better. I still have 100 lbs to lose yet  I feel sexier, my husband and I fit better in bed,  and the sex has gotten hotter and deeper than ever.  I feel my feelings now too and they are overwhelming me sometimes.  Food used to squelch my feelings;  now I eat so little of it that I feel everything.  Going through menopause and feeling everything makes me weepy.  I am also feeling the return of my old sexual self with this weight loss; this makes me nervous sometimes.  I feel a sense of self too;  for so long I was this non-self and now my kids are going crazy because suddenly Mom is acting like an emotional, energetic, assertive, but rational teenager.

Another change I have been making is that I am trying to understand my feelings; about myself, my husband, my kids, and those people in my life who I think of as friends.  There are people I have emotional connections with and I am trying to honestly explore those connections.  I no longer hide what I feel about them; I have told them.  Some have let me know that they feel the same about me but some elude me and I have to think that they either don't feel the same about me or they do but are not willing (or able) to deal with that right now.  I am less afraid of rejection;  perhaps having some new, close  friends has helped me with that.  In my openness, I have also been honest about my feelings to my husband.  To my surprise, he was not upset about these.  He holds my vulnerable heart gently and with wise caring.  I have always felt very deep feelings for him and, unlike so many people, he is able to handle these.  In fact, I have found that I am a very intense, passionate person; many people are just not able to handle that and I have been bereft of friendships for a long time because I seem so different to people who haven't that intensity or depth. 

One of the hardest changes I have made is about my sexuality.  I have finally been able to again ask for what I want with my husband in a vulnerable but not demanding way.  I used to be very assertive about sex but after marrying my husband, I found him saying no to my requests so much that I felt rejected and stopped initiating  at all.   When we talked about it, he said he felt pressured to perform.  I wondered why every man I have a long-term relationship with always liked sex a lot less than I did.  I felt like it was something  in me they were rejecting, or that I was somehow abnormal in my desire for sex.  I felt hurt and angry.  

Much later, we found out that he has had low testosterone for years.  After getting treatment for it,  things got a little better but it wasn't until I had my son that things really changed;  now I suddenly felt a huge drop in desire and it didn't come back even after a few years had gone by.   I began eating more, we both got fat and we stopped having sex at all.  Finally, my husband sensed the huge change in me and he realized what he was missing.  Finally he started wanting me but it was a bit too late;  I was not feeling desire at all.  Instead I felt humiliated, demoralized and angry.  I began picking on him regularly and he felt angry then, too. 

One day, I was wondering if my teen daughters had ADD; I began reading the symptoms and I realized that my husband had almost all of them.  Suddenly I wasn't so angry anymore.  It explained so much.  I began talking to him about it and he decided to seek a diagnosis and maybe treatment for it.  I stopped picking on him.  He and I were in the nurse's office one day when she told him that he is hurting me because he keeps allowing me to carry too much of the thinking and remembering in the relationship.  I was amazed that she could see that and I began to cry before I could stop it.  He was totally surprised;  even though I had told him I felt  that way, he hadn't seen it until someone else said she saw it too.  She said he needed to take more responsibility for his actions toward me and that doing that would help me feel less pain and anger.  It was like he realized just how much he had been hurting me,  even if unintentionally.  We left that office and both of us changed.  Now we are closer than ever and feeling much better about ourselves and our relationship. 

Both my husband and I also began reading a book given to me which was about the Law of Attraction.  As a realist, I don't fully believe in that in the way it is being taught. The universe Source may be able to give you whatever you want but sometimes it is better for you when it doesn't and you experience misfortune, it is not because you were not clear enough or open enough (which is blaming the victim of that misfortune and thus marginalizing them); it is because you need to have challenges or you don't grow.  We did believe in the positive thinking part so we made an effort to be more positive in our lives and it has helped both of us be more relaxed and open to change.  We have made a five year plan and a ten year plan and we have chosen to make real changes in areas that we need to make changes.  We both feel like gratitude is very important in how we see our lives; living in a state of gratitude means not always seeing only the negative. 

So many changes in just one year.  There are still more to come and I look forward to them all. 

Monogamy?

I have heard some say that monogamy must always be an imbalanced relationship where people deny themselves their real selves for games and power plays. Or that if one is monogamous; they are somehow denying some part of themselves. Here’s why for some these things are just not so.

Though I slept around a lot in my twenties, whenever I had a relationship with someone, I stopped wanting anyone else. This was not because of my partner’s jealousy or possessiveness or out of some sort of feeling that I owed him that; it stemmed from the fact that sleeping around and feeling deep attachment and love for a person are very different things for me. This is not to imply that poly people are that way because they just want to sleep around; it has to do with the nature of relating. When sleeping around, my feelings were not that involved; that’s not to say I didn’t have a deep empathic and compassionate intimacy with the men I slept with because I did. It means I didn’t have that very intricate connection that happens whenever I am in a love relationship with someone.

Love relationships have so much more depth and complexity than the sleeping around relationships do; this is why I am monogamous. I feel that I am not wired for more than one complex, sexual, love relationship at a time. I am sure that some people are wired for that but I am just not one of them. The idea of having to deal with a deep and elaborate relationship with more than one person sounds like more work than I want to deal with. Now that I have children, I have different relationships with them but these are also complex and require a lot of emotional and mental work on my part; I don’t have any more room in me for adding another person with their needs, wants, quirks, and all the compromise and emotional work that would take. Deep loving relationships are complicated at times and I have to say it; I just don’t want to be more involved than I already am  in the one intimate relationship. It is taking a lifetime to understand myself and my husband and that’s enough for me. It is as simple as some people prefer chocolate and some prefer vanilla.

So next time a poly oriented person comes across someone like me that prefers being monogamous, I hope they understand that it isn’t about game playing, subjugation, suppression of our desires or anything like that. A lot of monogamous people just don’t want to do the work it takes to relate to more than one person at a time. We have enough complexity in our lives and prefer dealing with only one person.