Mrs. Cellophane...That Should Be My Name

First published February 7, 2009

Egypt boasts an amazing history, heritage and culture. I had studied Egyptology for years growing up as a hobby and was always fascinated by this diverse, intelligent people. Once we moved here, I was curious to find out how we would interact with them on a daily basis. Would we be accepted, mocked, ignored, repelled? 

Of course, not one blanket statement could be made about the people of Cairo any more than a sentence would adequately describe any city made up of individuals with varied backgrounds. However, overall I can say that we have found them to be extremely helpful, accepting and friendly.

On more than one occasion we have needed to rely on a stranger to direct us to a location and each time he/she would pause and direct us or even walk us there. Our apartment agent has helped us locate an apartment, secure a cellphone, invited us to a concert and written things in Arabic for us to give to others. Yes, their kindness has been overwhelming.

I have noticed a pattern though. When we are with a group of Egyptians, the men will look at John and say hello. Then they might inquire about the girls. I stand ready to greet and shake hands. But I just keep waiting. The opportunity never comes.

On the subway, I have been standing in the co-ed train when a man will look at John and insist that I sit down. So John offers me the chair and I sit. Again, I am not addressed.

In a taxi, the driver will speak with John greeting him and asking about the girls. I look into his rear view mirror and prepare my statement in Arabic. I never get to use it.

I am perfectly invisible...cellophane...non-existent. Of all of us in our family, I am the one most given to be chatty in group settings. I get nervous at too much silence and getting to say absolutely zero has proven (probably a blessing for my husband) to be most difficult.

I was about to be insulted by the whole thing until a friend told me that it's a breach of etiquette for a man to inquire or even greet another man's wife. They can ask general questions about the family, but never specifically about the wife. Ooooooooooooh, maybe I'll stop with the complex I was developing.

I'm still trying to adjust my cultural antennae to pick up these nuances, but sometimes I do have to be hit over the head with a stick. Still I keep watching, observing, and learning a bit more each day. Until then I'll just happily hum to myself, "Mrs. Cellophane....That Should Be My Name...."