Time is like a sword

This past week I have been in Bahrain celebrating the lengthy Eid Holiday. There has been no work, so I have taken some time to enjoy myself. First of all, I visited the National Museum of Bahrain which was on the top of my wish-list of things to do. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision to tour the museum, and this unplanned, very spontaneous move is totally in line with the culture. Among my friends and family members in the United States, I was considered the most “free-spirited” and if I dare say….impulsive. I have been known to leave the stuffy University library in favor of studying with a Starbucks at the International Airport. I have taken several ad hoc journeys, including a 24-hour trek from Indiana to New York City and back. I caused myself anguish during my school career because of procrastination and my tendency to “wander.” If I have learned anything so far in the Middle East, it is that nothing is planned. Even if something is planned it always, always a “maybe.” You would think this would be paradise for a vagabond like me- but no.

Last week I was anxiously awaiting the holiday. I asked my boss, “What day does our holiday begin? I would like to arrange a ride from Saudi to Bahrain.” His reply was, “maybe on Thursday or maybe on Sunday.” Much of this ambiguity comes from the fact that Islamic holidays depend on the phase of the moon, although It drove me crazy to not know “for sure” in advance. Thursday morning it was declared that our holiday was starting. Everything worked out, and I was in Bahrain by that evening.

Many Westerners find it difficult to navigate the vagueness of time in the region. Especially those who are more Type A. I have been working to try to understand why it is this way… it makes things more frustrating for everyone….and then it came to me… On Eid Day, I was invited to a family gathering and told to be ready by about 11am. So, I was ready at about 11:05 and worried that I was running far behind. Someone was coming to pick me up, and they had some engagements earlier that morning. From 11am until 2pm, I waited. I sat close to the door and close to my phone waiting for a call or a knock on the door. During that time, my blood started to boil. I became angry and upset. I felt unproductive because I did not prepare a book to read, and I didn’t even watch TV to pass the time. My mind was so focused on MY plan for the day and that MY plan had been ruined. When I woke up that morning, I already had a vision of how the day would work. My outfit, my hair, my breakfast, the trip to the Eid celebration, what I would say at the party–everything was calculated. In the United States, people live their days thinking about tomorrow. Many people I know keep large daily planners. They pre-plan and meal-prep. They plan vacations and weddings 1-year or even years in advance. More time is spent thinking about a task than it takes to complete the task. What did I learn in those hours of waiting close to the door? I learned to be patient. This celebration was not important. It is not like school, work, or family responsibilities. It was a lunch, and lunch can wait.

So much in life is unanticipated.  I could not have planned 1-year ago that I would be sitting in the Middle East typing this right now. Many unplanned events happened to get me here. If I took chance out of my life, it would be a lot less fulfilling. Living according to plan takes every opportunity for growth and change out of our lives.

I do believe that there is a plan for the unplanned nature of society in the Middle East. After all, one of the most famous Arabic proverbs is لوقت كالسيف إن لم تقطعه قطعك meaning “Time is like a sword: if you don’t cut it, it cuts you.” When I first heard this phrase, I was puzzled by its meaning. I read it literally at first, until someone explained to me that it means something like “manage your time wisely, or else your time will be filled with negativity.” How was I feeling during the time I was waiting? Angry and upset. I could have done many things to fill that time. I had no control over my friend’s tardiness but I did have control over my thoughts and actions.

I hope to spend time embracing the  “يمكن”, the “maybe” or the “perhaps.” Even if we are all still wondering شنو الغداء؟ or “What’s lunch?”