The Day My Auntie Insulted Me

I know you’re all dying to know who is this ‘someone’ and that you hate me for keeping you in suspense. Well the wait is over. Let me introduce you to Khadeja Sana. She’s Muslim, young, pretty, a smart dresser who covers her hair. She even has a blog, just like me: becomingsana.blogspot.com.au

No, no, don’t worry, I didn’t fall in love again, on the contrary. I’m talking about my 18-year old ex’s aunt. Fond of me at the beginning, she ended up sending me the worse message ever via Facebook. (Apparently I can make good first impressions but that doesn’t last.) My crime? As I said in my previous post, I took off my relationship status of Facebook. Judge for yourself. For non-Farsi speakers, begharat means someone without pride. Warning. This message contains strong language and sexual references from the outset and throughout. (Thank you MTV)

I think this little work of art says more about its author than anything I could add. I’m sorry I didn’t reply sooner auntie San. You see, I tried to call you. Looks like you blocked my number. I guess things are easier when one is hidden behind a screen. I have to say I’m a bit disappointed by your little essay. You could have made it more personal. You could have attacked me on my many flaws. Insulting someone is so common. You could have written that to anybody. Now I don’t feel special anymore. I have to admit that the immigrant part is funny though. I didn’t realize you were an Aboriginal Australian. Aren’t you the daughter of Afghan refugees? That would explain the spelling mistakes in your message. Little tip from a French immigrant: ‘epidemy of begharat’ doesn’t mean anything. I think you meant epitome, right? And one last thing, you mentioned the phone your niece gave me. You should check the Holy Quran 2.264. It’s about reminding people of your good deeds… you’re not supposed to do it.

Reactions

People around me were really shocked by the kind of language used. ‘How is your relationship her business?’ ‘Is she crazy?’ ‘The last paragraph… WT*?!’ ‘I’m sure you won’t come close to an Afghan again.’ (Coming from an Afghan) My mother’s reaction was more balanced: ‘Aren’t you shocked?’ ‘I’m happy they didn’t kill you. […] You know these people are a bit backward.’ ‘But she’s veiled. How can she talk like that?’ ‘You still don’t know that people may seem good from the outside but aren’t always inside?’ Dear Khala Sana, I have to thank you. Your scatological letter, (I’m sure Freud would have a lot to say about that too), helped me to  take my decision. I was still hesitating about my relationship with your niece. You gave me an answer. So merci (tashakor in French)! But the real disappointment in all of this, was my ex’s reaction. To be continued…

The Day I Had the Most Surprising Surprise

I cannot say I miss France. I do miss my friends and family though… oh and bakeries. So when my friend told me her Iranian-Belgian friend was moving to Australia I was really excited. What I didn’t know was that she had an awesome surprise for me!

A friend of mine from France emailed me one day. An Iranian sister from Belgium, called Mahtab, was about to move to Australia. She’s a history and geography teacher and they met during her studies there. She asked me to help her out to settle in.

“– So how is your friend? Is she religious? Is she nice?

– Yes, she’s a good Muslim, she’s really nice, friendly and a bit crazy like us. I’m sure you’re going to get along with her.

– Oh yeah, sounds like we’re going to!”

And we did! No need to say that a certain Afghan girl I know got jealous straight away and tried to prevent me from seeing her. Before Mahtab came, we started to exchange emails and we agreed to meet at her hotel the day she arrives. She said she will bring me a surprise. I was working this day, so I told her we’ll meet in the evening:

“– So when are you coming?

– I’m in the south of Sydney, I should be in the city around 7:00 pm. I might be late thought.

– That’s the difference between Persians and Arabs.

– Really? Are Persians on time?

– Yes. You haven’t been to Iran? My surprise should please you then!”

At 7:00 pm, well nearly 8 to be frank, I finally arrived at the Sofitel. I was thinking : “She’s well off for a teacher!” Whilst I was about to ask the receptionist to call room 1210, the lift doors opened. Phalestine, my Beirut best friend (It’s a concept.) came out! I don’t know how many thoughts came in my mind at the same time:

“Oh! Not only does she have the same voice as Phalestine but she looks a lot like her too! No, that’s her! What is she doing here? Did she come for work without telling me? Oh God! She’s Mahtab! There was no Mahtab! I’ve been tricked!”

“What are you doing here???” I said. I had to throw my kurta to her face and seat for a while.

Everything was fake : her name, her nationality, her email address. I have to admit that I fell for it hook, line and sinker. She’s not Persian, neither is she a teacher. She’s a stewardess and had a flight to Sydney. She knew that since weeks and had plan the whole surprise with the collaboration of my friend in France.

Later in the evening she told me: “I couldn’t stop laughing when I called and you said my voice sounds familiar. But I did cover my voice with a towel. I don’t get it, it works in movies!”

That was the most surprising surprise ever and it leads to an evening of fun, laughter and a pretend car accident!