One day, my adult son and I ascended a Swiss mountain on a gently swaying gondola that held about fifteen people. I noticed an unusual group on board, a young man, perhaps in his mid-to-late twenties, accompanied by three women, one of whom held the hand of a very well-behaved child, around kindergarten age. From their murmured conversation, I recognized an Arabic accent from students I’d known at my university. They clustered together and, as the women wore hijab scarves, it eventually sank in that I was probably looking at a man with three wives. I’d never seen such a sight. I stared and tried not to.
As the gondola neared the top of the mountain, much to my surprise, the young Arabic man came to me and asked a question, “What are the sights for us to see up here?” I was stunned and anxiety raced through me. I consider myself open to other cultures, but I harbored a fear of this man and his society that seemed to oppress women. Also, I felt shocked that he chose to speak with me, who I assumed he would consider to be an ignorant female. In my prejudiced mind, if he were to speak to westerners, of course, he would prefer my adult son, who was about the same age. However, apparently, he did not think me stupid, because he asked me the question. In reality, he seemed to be a perfectly nice fellow.
Luckily, I’d read the guidebook and I stuttered, “Umm, there’s a mountaineering museum, a restaurant and a walk and the views, of course.”
At that moment, the gondola docked and the crowd began to shuffle. His wives moved apart. For the first time, I noticed a wheelchair with another child, about 5 or 6, clearly disabled. In that moment, my heart went out to the travelers, all doing their best to enjoy a pleasant family outing, just like anyone else. The children appeared to be well-loved and cared for. By inquiring about our destination, the husband showed he wanted to take good care of his family.
I knew almost nothing about Arabic culture and the mechanics of polygamy. I felt embarrassed about my prejudices. I paused and reflected: I would not become a person who allowed my ignorance to spawn hate and bias. This family had difficult challenges, with everyone gracefully contributing. I honored them, even though their customs differed greatly from mine.
I spoke again, to all of them, “Have a wonderful day.” I truly meant it.
Real Life – Real Laughs:
Humor When You Need It Most
Cate Burns’ thirty-eight non-fiction stories of heartfelt humor explore society’s foibles and personal snafus with insightful zingers that will delight readers. Burns casts an unstinting, cock-eyed look at personal change, friendship, sanity and courage.
“Absolutely LOVE the descriptions in this work. Very, very, very clever and, dare I say it? -unique. This is refreshing, funny, inventive and delightful.” -Sharon Whitehill, Ph. D.
