The Pineapple Rule

About a year ago, I was out to lunch with my cousin at one of our favorite restaurants. I was starving and eagerly awaiting my food when I saw the waitress coming our way. To my horror, shamelessly placed next to the main course were sliced pineapples. How dare they ruin a perfectly good meal with this uninvited guest? See, for as long as I can remember, I've been anti-pineapple. It's got sharp edges, an odd scent, and an even weirder taste.

After staring at the fruit on my plate for a while and attempting (unsuccessfully) to pass it over to my cousin, I had a wild thought: What if I just ate them? People eat pineapples all the time. No one's died yet...I think. Before actually taking on this feat I prepared myself mentally. I decided I would like pineapples...But I hate pineapples. No, I would eat them and I would love them.

So, it turns out we are capable of manipulating our minds. Since that day, I've loved pineapples. I no longer eat them only when forced. I actually seek them out. I love how they look, smell, and taste. And to think, if it hadn't been for that sneaky restaurant, I'd be missing out on all that juicy deliciousness.

Since then, I've encountered many situations in my day-to-day life where the pineapple lesson applies. People have become very picky when it comes to their tastes, and not just about food. Being blessed with abundance has made us feel the need to have an opinion on just about everything. We feel we're expressing our individuality when we choose to like one thing and hate something else. I say "choose" because I believe that many of our preferences are arbitrary, not based on reason or logic, but on some superficial basis. Not only are we needlessly picky, but we're stubborn. We don't like the idea that we might be wrong or that our so-called preferences may simply be baseless personality quirks of our own creation, essentially figments of our imagination.

I admit I'm guilty of this quite often. For example, I am known to absolutely despise the singer Pink. If one of her songs comes on the radio, I must turn it off. If a friend says she likes her, I start to have serious doubts about our friendship. I will confess that this has nothing to do with Pink's talent or anything she's done. I just decided, long ago, that I didn't like her and that was that. Technically, I could apply the pineapple rule here...But I don't want to.

In truth, there are much more important lessons to be learned from my pineapple epiphany. How many times do we make our lives harder by refusing to get on board mentally? In my opinion, that's half the battle. A great example of this is work. People love to complain about work. It could be their boss, their coworkers, or a lack of passion for their field. Whatever it is, these people have chosen to hate their jobs. They drag their feet around day in and day out dreaming of the weekend, during which they will only complain that the start of the work week is fast approaching. That means that 5/7 of their lives will be spent feeling miserable and the other 2/7 will be spent anticipating the misery to come. Sounds just lovely, doesn't it?

What if you decided to love your job? What if you decided to take it seriously and commit yourself to nothing short of excellence? Needless to say, you would be happier and more content with your life. But the added bonus is that you would also be more successful. The same could be applied to just about anything. Living in Egypt, for instance, is not without its challenges. But moaning and groaning the whole way through, longing for the easy life won't make things better. Sometimes, maybe even most of the time, you have to make the conscious decision to like Egypt, to appreciate its charms and forgive its shortcomings. Again, not only does this give us peace of mind, but navigating life in a new place actually begins to feel easy and natural.

I believe that you can choose to love fruit. You can decide to love your job. You can decide to love a new, unfamiliar place. I even believe that you can choose to love your life. I know it sounds easier said than done. And in a way it is...But in a way it really isn't. It's simple: Love pineapples and they'll love you back.

The "F" Word

I have a confession to make. This may put some people off, but I think it's about time. I am a fob.

The word fob, which stands for "fresh off the boat," is a common expression used among immigrant communities in the West to refer to people who have not quite assimilated to Western norms, whether it be in terms of language, dress, or general demeanor.

In truth, we all know that being called a fob is not exactly a compliment. There is a certain stigma that comes with being cultural, a sense of not being fully evolved. To complicate things even further, there are many different kinds of fobs. Not only does it depend on the person being labeled, it depends on who is giving the label. To a very Americanized Arab (perhaps third or fourth generation), any Arab-American who knows a few Nancy Agram songs and can say more than "hello" and "goodbye" in Arabic is a fob. (In actuality, these "fobs" probably make up the majority of Arab-Americans.) But what I'm more concerned with is what these so-called fobs, the average Arabs living in the West, consider a fob. Naturally, Arabs who have very recently arrived in the West are "honored" with this title. But what I find odd is that Arab-Americans even go so far as to apply this term to Arabs who have never left their countries in the first place. How can a person be fresh off the boat if he's never even been on the boat?

In my opinion, it all comes down to racism. Yes, racism can and does exist among people belonging to the same ethnic group. Arabs who have grown up in the West tend to think of themselves as new and improved, almost superhuman. Having the best of both worlds, many are arrogant, pitying those left behind. Did it ever occur to them that an Egyptian living in Egypt may be just as educated, just as well-traveled, and just as enlightened as they are? Or even worse, did it ever cross their minds that this intelligent, forward-thinking Egyptian may have no desire to leave his country and may actually...like it?

And thus, we deceive ourselves again, assuming that our way of life is the way, which brings me back to my point: how can we refer to a person as a fob in his own country? Well, we can't, or at least shouldn't. Therefore, as much as I dislike the term, if we're going to use it, let's at least use it correctly. So, if a fob is someone who has recently arrived in a country and has still not fully assimilated, then I am a fob. I'll understand if you unfriend me.

It's All About Perspective

So, I've been here in Egypt a while now and I figure it's about time to do something productive with my thoughts. Most of this will have to be a stream of consciousness because that's how my brain works best, especially here where I can't seem to keep my mind on one thing for more than 3 seconds (think goldfish).

One thing I couldn't stop wondering in the last few weeks before I came here was whether it would be the way it was last time, the way I remembered. We often build things up in our heads and romanticize them, conveniently forgetting the realities. This can apply to anything in life, but I think it's quite common with places. People do this with childhood memories all the time, and it's to be expected. But I wondered if I was doing the same as an adult (if I can call myself that). To address this, I tried to come up with all the things that used to bother me in Egypt. I made a list in my head and frequently came back to it to make sure I knew what I was getting myself into: Noise, pollution, nosy people, language issues, arrogant "Westernized" society, chaos, and corruption tended to top out the list.

Even up until the very last moment, I was constantly questioning myself and wondering if I could really re-adapt and look past those irritations. But what I've realized is that, as obvious as this may seem, like people, all places have their virtues as well as their shortcomings. I think that, in part, coming here was a way to prove that to myself, that the world is not black and white, "developed" or "undeveloped," advanced or tragically left behind.

The conclusion that I've come to is that it all comes down to attitude. In fact, I sincerely believe you can change the course of your entire life simply by adjusting your attitude. Now, I don't pretend to be any Mary Poppins (by the way, she actually wasn't that cheery all the time), but I've learned that my perspective can almost change reality. It's a rewarding sort of challenge...

Which brings me back to that list of annoyances in Egypt. Noise, pollution, chaos: It's all part of living in a big city, an experience so many excitement-starved suburbanites dream of, being right in the middle of the action. So, what are we complaining about? The city's got it all. I mean, where else can you get Cinnabon delivered to your door at midnight? As for the chaos, here in Egypt we like to use the phrase "organized chaos," meaning it works, so just play along.

Next on the list, those nosy Egyptians. If you're American, you probably can't stand people getting in your business. I'm not in love with it myself. But guess what? Those meddlesome creatures are the same ones who will rush to your aid at the first sign of crisis. So, is curiosity a fault or a virtue? Maybe it's both.

And what about my less than stellar Arabic? That's not Egypt's fault; it's my own (or perhaps my parents'). But this is one that I can't blame on Egypt. In any case, I've wished for so long to improve my Arabic skills because of its importance in both society and religion, not to mention the fact that I just find languages fascinating in general. Well, I happen to be in one of the most sought-after destinations in the world for learning Arabic, which is why I've decided to take advantage of that this time (this topic will need its own post).

When it comes to Westernized Egyptians, I have a hard time keeping myself from ranting, so I'll do my best. Put simply, many Egyptians here are leaving their own culture behind in exchange for the American promise, the promise that if you speak like this, dress like that, and frequent these exclusive hangouts, you will have somehow liberated yourself from Arab backwardness. Again, this will definitely need its own post. However, I do see a positive in this absurd phenomenon. As a true American Egyptian, I feel that I, and many others like me, serve as an example of how we can embrace multiculturalism without betraying ourselves, our origins, and most importantly, our morals and religion.

As for the last item on my list, all I can say is that where there is power, there is corruption. Simply because it is more transparent in certain countries, such as here in Egypt, does not make those countries, or their people, "bad" or undeserving. Conversely, societies that appear to be incorruptible may simply be better at hiding their dirty laundry. In short, things aren't always what they seem.