I have come to the conclusion that what Arab men term as “honor” is a polite word for the Arabically-explicit word vagina. I will explain.

When an 18-year-old murders his sister because he believes she has brought shame to the family’s name, he does so because he either knows or suspects that she has engaged in socially unacceptable behavior with a man (who is not her husband, if she is married). That behavior on the woman’s part ranges from talking to this man to fornicating with him.

Since one part of the equation is a man, let us examine that part. When a man talks to, or fornicates with, or takes any other action towards a woman he is more often than not spared any social consequences that result from his actions. This means that the “man” part of the deal does not fall within the scope of this argument.

Now let us look at the other part of the equation for the purpose of this argument. The other part is a woman, an anatomically different human being who is almost always the honor-defaming culprit in any scandal. The woman’s private parts play a vital role in condemning her because they are, in the traditional male chauvinist view, the forbidden yet deeply desired apple.

To illustrate this, think of the worst possible curse words out there in Arabic and in English. About 99% of them involve someone’s mother, someone’s sister, and their genitalia. They might also include explicit references to sexual acts done to these private parts. In Arabic, these curse words are intended to verbally harm the opposite person’s “honor,” a sacred concept referring simply to a woman’s vagina.

Within this context, when someone commits an “honor killing” to wash away the family’s shame, all they are doing is killing the target woman’s vagina who may or may not have engaged in sexual acts deemed socially taboo. By the same token, when a man swears by his “sister’s honor,” he is swearing by her vagina. Fascinating, isn’t it?

The final point I want to make is this: men do not really have honor to swear by or to protect. Anatomically speaking, it is the women that live with these men that do have honor and sometimes pay a dear price for having it. So the next time a man swears by his mother’s honor and thinks he’s macho cursing another man’s sister’s honor, ask him if he likes it shaved, waxed, or a la natural.

Indian accountant at work, thank you!

This is fantastic! If I had known that blogging about my late salary will have it posted the next morning, I would have done it several days ago. Now on to paying my debts. I always knew I had mental powers, I can will people to do things for me; such as buying me things or bowing when I enter the room or hailing me as royalty. Really, I can do all that just by focusing my mental energy on said targets.

Enough rambling. Good morning Amman.

Indian accountant at work, have mercy!

Today is December 2nd and I still have not received my November salary. I am not simpatico with the whole “end of financial year” syndrome which is the probable cause behind the tardiness in cash flow and I am not happy that I am already in debt for the sum of my November salary because said salary is late. This is a vicious cycle that I am stuck in!

Suppose I had to pay rent or had other urgent financial obligations and that I was impatiently waiting for the salary to grace my account, what would I do then? How do people manage when there is no money in the bank and they have to magically produce it at the demand of bills or persistent landlords? What do they do if they have children who need to be fed, and they can’t afford it because they are waiting on their paychecks?

I take pride in the fact that I am pretty much a self-sufficient microcosm, in that I largely depend on myself to get what I want and to do what I want, and in that I have an almost biological loathing of relying on anyone else but myself. But times have been trying, and I found out that I would rather remain broke than ask my parents for pocket money. I felt so little and incompetent every time they offered to give me money this month and, although I often accepted under pressure, I always promised to pay them back.

I find this particularly interesting because I live in a society that sees women as dependent on men to provide for them, and since most bread-winners are men, the rule is so general that even most working women expect to be provided for one way or the other. This puts working women at both an advantage and a disadvantage. It’s an advantage because they can always get effortless cash from their husbands or fathers, and they can demand it too as society and religion dictate. But it is also a disadvantage because of the “laid back” attitude some of these women will definitely have towards their jobs since they know that they will get money anyway even if they did not work. In addition to that, they will always be seen as “dependants” on men by the very same men who fund them, thus their jobs or careers will always be seen as marginal or for recreational purposes only. Again, this is a vicious cycle that prevents women from achieving their worth.

So, dear salary, where art thou?

Rejoice, O world! Amino is back in the public eye!

My dear friend Amino, who has an enviable library in her head and a to-die-for attitude, has decided to grace the pages of the Mighty Internet with her words and opinions once again. She had dropped the pen, or the keyboard, for some time and left us all in utter darkness.

But the darkness is no more. She has finally decided to blog again (which is flattering since it means my mediocre begging worked) and she calls her new blog The Bohemian Jar.

When I first met Amino, which was by pure chance (or was it a spin of fate?), she was reading. I interrupted her, of course, and despite the fact that she had told me hours earlier that she does not appreciate shaking hands with people (germs and nasty things), I not only shook hands with her, but also kissed her on the cheeks in true Jordanian ’suddenly-intimate’ fashion.

She didn’t voice any objections but, minutes later, I realized what I had done. I believe that the joining of germs, mine and Amino’s, made us good friends. Read her blog, she’s fantastic.