Ten Pounds For Tampons

Assalaam Alaikum…Rich here, ghost writing for Jennifer…I guess it’s not really ghost writing if I am telling you I am ghost writing. Anyways, let me begin by saying how impressed I am with Jennifer as this is the first time since I met her sharing a taxi on that fateful St. Patrick’s day in 1995 that she has actually adopted a technology before me…this is the first blog I have ever written.

We have had many crazy stories/frustrations/laughs getting adjust to living in Dubai, but one that I thought was pretty funny actually happened on our first “looksee” visit to Dubai and summed up the cultural differences while at the same time also underscored for me that people are the same all over.
So Jennifer and I are getting ready to go out. As usual I started about 40 minutes after her, finished getting ready in 15 minutes and made the mistake of asking her when she was going to be ready. Unbeknownst to me, Jennifer had a surprised visit from what I think women sometimes refer to as “her little friend”…more like enemy to men and woman alike - for different reasons of course…and to think in the not to distance future I will be managing through this four times a month. Of course since I was pushing her to get ready she seized the opportunity to ask me to go downstairs to the shop in the hotel and get her some tampons.

Now keep in mind, as westernized as Dubai is, this was my first visit to Dubai and I am thinking you want me to buy what, where??? I wouldn’t do this in the good ol’ U.S. of A. let alone in Muslim country. Thankfully my male intuition took the back seat, and I realized my wife is visiting a foreign country I am asking her to move to and I should tell her I would be happy to go down and get her some tampons.

As such, 5 minutes later I find myself in a small gift shop in the hotel that is unfortunately staffed by a male (very tight quarters). My eyes avert his as I can sense he knows what I am there to buy, and I head right over the bathroom products section and find what I think looks similar to a tampon box, but all the brand names are written in Arabic, so I am not really sure.
My heart sinks as I now know, I am going to have to ask the guy behind the counter, who happens to be about 5 feet from me about what I am going to buy…picture a high school kid going to buy his first box of condoms from a woman working the pharmacy counter, and you will get a sense of the tension building in the shop. So I muster up the courage to turn to him and judging a book by its cover like we are all taught to do, I assume he doesn’t speak very good English and I ask him very slowly with in exaggerated facial/mouth expressions “Are these tampons???” With a look that says did you ride the short bus to school he replies back to me in broken English, “Ten pounds???? No no no…much less.”

So now I take my facial expressions to a new level using all 98 muscles in my face and speaking more slowly with an even greater level of embarrassment, I say, “No tttaaaammmmmpppooonnnnssszzz.” Again with a bewildered look he says, “You pay pounds??? I convert!”

So now my embarrassment starts to dissipate as I am no longer focused on what I am buying, but on how to convey a question any male would be embarrassed to ask another male who speaks the same language, let alone a male of another language, culture and religion that likely (per my new expat thinking) has less understanding of the female hygiene product category than I do, and I decide to ask the question again at the same speed and tone with the same level of facial expressions, but decide to add slow motion hand gestures as well (Trying to guess how these things work). This time he looks at me puzzled again, but then I see a sense of understanding come over his face along with a smile and he says – “Yes…dose tampons.”

Feeling a little better, I remember Jennifer mentioning something about type…light, medium, tall grande…who knows how they measure these things and to my horror, I look back down and see a wide variety. I think about how I am going to get this guy to help me pick out the right kind, ponder what I just went through, say forgetta bout it, close my eyes and grab a box from the middle.

Of course when I went upstairs after this emotional rollercoaster, the first things Jennifer says, when I give her the box is…you guessed it…”You got the wrong kind.” Needless to say, I think she could tell from the look on my face, she was going down this time or would get by on these for a couple of hours.

So no matter where you live, we are all just working/trying to get by to provide for and spend a little more time with our family and friends...and no matter where you are from or where you are, if you are male…you don’t like purchase or discussing female hygiene products.

Love to all - hope to see you soon - Maasalaamah,

H.H. Sheikh Richard Bin Richard Al Berner