local talk

Yesterday I had my first conversation with a local emirati woman.

I was at this lebanese pizza place getting pizza for dinner. I'd never been there on the weekend, and usually go there pretty late in the evening (I rarely start thinking about dinner until around 8 pm). The place was packed with locals.

I placed my order and then tried to find somewhere out of the way to stand while I waited. There are two benches in the front of the restaurant but they were both full. Then an emirati couple vacated one of the benches and went to look at the buffet (they serve a buffet of Lebanese food in addition to making pizza). After a few minutes of them looking at the buffet food I assumed that they were going to sit at a table so I took a seat on their bench.

I started reading my book, and an egyptian woman came over and sat practically in my lap (she wasn't small) and pulled her daughter up on the bench too. She said excuse me in French because I guess she assumed I was french. They figured out their order and got up. Then the emirati woman came over and sat back down on the bench. Her husband was making a fuss about something, I assumed because I was sitting in his seat. He was not being quiet about whatever it was he was bitching about, even though the emirati woman kept telling him to calm down.

I put my book mark in my book, and indicated to her that I would go stand somewhere so her husband could have his seat back. She put her hand on my forearm, which was shocking because no one ever touches you here, and then said "No, he can stand. You stay here and read your book." Most of the locals I run into are not polite in the western sense, partially because of the culture, and partially because they resent westerners doing stupid stuff in their country. I was touched in a way that is hard to explain that she did that.

Then, even more surprising, she said "What is this book you are reading?" I showed her the cover, which is dark except for a lighted arch with a robed monk standing in the middle of the arch. "It's called Ananthem" I said. "Oh, it's a very nice book" she responded, even though I'm thinking Neal Stephenson doesn't sell many books here.

"It's about math" I said, lest she think I was reading some kind of weird subversive religious literature. "Events that happen in the book are used to illustrate mathematical principles and the solving of equations". I showed here the calcas, as the math problems are called in the book. The first one is about how to cut a square into 8 pieces that are of equal size given that the square is measured by a spatula that you have to use to make the cuts. The first iteration, you can cut the square into four even pieces (the square is two pieces long by two pieces wide). The second iteration, you can cut the square into 16 even pieces (each of the four pieces in the previous example is cut again into four pieces, squaring the square, with 4 squared equalling 16). So that's why the 8 piece problem is hard. The solution is to cut the square into triangles, if you were wondering.

Anyway, it was hard to tell what she made of my book, though she did seem to be listening to my explanation about the squares. I could only see her eyes, but not even much of those because she would look down every time I made eye contact with her. Then her order was ready and she wished me a good evening and left.

I wonder what she was thinking on the car ride home. Probably "note to self: never talk to westerners reading books".