The air scented with cardamum, cinnamon, and coffee, a haunting melody sung in Arabic, lush, red fabrics draped over beautifully carved wooden furniture, a sponge in my hand and a pile of dirty dishes before me: I have the best college job one could possibly want (and possibly I am the only one who would love it, but I do). I get to wash dishes and tidy up a kitchen, polish furntiure, vaccuum, organize and sweep. Not only is this quite fun--and a luxurious break from homework--it's for a really kind woman from Egypt.
The first night I worked there, I forgot what continent I was on. The scent of foreign spices in the air, the constant sound of spoken and sung Arabic coming from either the television or conversations between my employer and her mother, and the gorgeous decoration of their home transported me far, far away from lowly Hillsdale, MI.
The first night I worked there, she explained to me in her pleasing accent what I was to do, and I set to work. She offered me dinner, but I had already eaten. I finished what I was to do a few minutes early, but that didn't phase her a bit. She went to her purse, paid me in cash and I was on my way. I hadn't made it to the door before she darted to her cupboard, peered around and grabbed a bag of almonds, "Do you like these?" My goodness! I love almonds and have been slowly enjoying the gift ever since. Another day it was a box of fresh strawberries--what a treat!
I am learning a lot about hospitality from her. Apparently, in Egypt it is considered rude to ask someone if they would care to eat: you just put food down in front of them. The reason for this being that in the past, one would have to travel a long distance to arrive anywhere and therefore would certainly be hungry. Asking someone if they'd like to eat signals an unwillingness on the part of the host. Needless to say, I have had a few delicious meals over the last couple of weeks.
In these waning college days, and the hopes (though not my own) of a "ring by spring," I should probably make my friends aware of a requirement: perfect coffee making. In Egypt, when a man is to marry, he visits the homes of a few elegible girls with his mother, and perhaps other family members. They arrive at the girl's house and she must serve the mother, and likely the son, the perfect cup of Turkish coffee. I now know how to make that! So useful, I know. It is delicious, with the finely ground coffee settling to the bottom of the cup with the rich, dark froth on top.
Now if you pass the coffee test and get married, beware if you burn the food you prepare for him! He may just send you back to your family and if you learn to cook and he forgives you, he may just take you back.
What a perspective on the duties of women! "The Nature and History of Manhood" class that I'm taking examines the duties of men and women in American society: this burning food concept is pretty foreign.
This is a direct answer to prayer and I couldn't have imagined a better job. I'm thankful.
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