One of the most noticeable adjustments that I have to make is in my interactions with men.  In the desert, I can maneuver my way through the city quite freely, taking care of errands and collecting household needs without The Mister being with me.  My dealings with men are purely business.  I don’t smile, laugh, or behave overly friendly with them.  It is, in fact, a sign of high respect for a man not to engage me in eye contact even.  My vegetable vendor is very respectful.  He will look off over the market view while I rattle away my vegetable list.  I have trained myself to avert my eyes, casting my gaze at a modest downward angle to communicate my modesty and respect.  It is something that I do now without even having to think about it. 

What I do have to think about as I currently live in the western context is learning to acknowledge men as I pass them on the street or in a store.  A cheery hello is the polite thing to do.  Looking the other way and purposely avoiding their gaze is perceived as rude.  I’m no longer the really polite, respectful White Girl.  I am now the socially awkward rude girl (except with the old men, obviously)

When I arrived on the wrong side of the world, my friend who is male was kind enough to pick me and my Charlie & Lola pair from the airport.  His wife was unfortunately unable to join him because their daughter was ill.  We piled into the car, and I hopped into the front seat.  When my male friend sat behind the steering wheel, I noticed that I had subconsciously moved my body over so I was leaning heavily on the door.  I was communicating through my body language to anyone that might be watching us that I was not with this man.  I laughed at myself, but I could not for the life of me pull myself up to a regular sitting position. I remained plastered against the door for the entire ride. 

A few days ago, I was walking to pick Lola up from kindergarten.  (sidebar: half days are SO annoying.  I drop the kids off at school at 8:30, have to be back at 11 to pick up Lola and then have to go back again at 2:30 to pick up Charlie.  The time is just short enough to not be able to do anythingof significance. End sidebar)  I have decided to incorporate exercise into my regular-life routine.  So my plan has been this: have The Mister drive me and the kids to the school.  He goes off to do his thing and I walk the 3 kilometers or so home at a brisk 1-2-3-4 pace.  Then I walk back to the school when it’s time to get Lola and The Mister meets us there to drive us home.  When The Mister returns to the desert (lucky duck!), I’ll adjust my plan slightly by driving the kids to school in the morning and parking my car in a random neighbour’smy friend’s driveway and walking back home.  Then I walk back to the school to pick up Lola from kindergarten and retrieve my car from it’s parking spot.  I figure it’s a brilliant plan.  I’ve been doing the first edition of my workout plan for a few days now.  One of the first times I was out walking, I noticed a man approaching me from the opposite direction, walking his dog.  For a full minute upon approach I was coaching myself via inner monologue, “Ok.  You have to look up.  Look up into his eyes and say, ‘hello!’  It would also be nice if you tried out a naturally soft smile.  Nothing too forced.  It’s okay.  You can do this.  Just look up.  Look up.”

I’m happy to say that I managed to succeed in basic greeting customs.  I didn’t even trip while I was doing it!  I might get the hang of this after all – just in time to return to the desert and have to readjust all over again.