Today, I got see a few of my Saudi students without their veils. The women had a private party–no men allowed. Windows were covered, doors blocked off, signs of no admittance posted. They wore pretty dresses, make-up, jewelry, and they prepared special food and they danced. I missed the dancing, but I got to see their hair.
They were stunning. It is quite an effect–to see someone covered and veiled for months, and then to see their figures, bits of leg, and hair. A few of them I did not recognize. And I did not try to be cool. My hand went to my heart. “Wow. You are beautiful.”
They smiled–real smiles–and said thank you. They were gracious and polite, though what did they think of my American reaction and my very taken-for-granted hair.
While I would not want to live covered as they do, how must it feel to be able to stun someone with your hair. How do their husbands feel to see this hair tumble from its hiding place. It is quite an electric effect.
Think of when the wall-flower mousey girl gets a makeover and turns shocked heads when she walks into the room. It is like that, but more than that.
One day a few years back, I went to a wedding with a coworker. We got lost and arrived too late to see the ceremony. We stood in the church lobby, and we peered through the crack between the doors. Then we got lost on the way to the reception, and we I missed the exit we needed, I banged my hands in the steering a cussed something of a blue streak–me in my lovely dress, hair done, lipstick and everything, in a fury. My coworker was stunned. He had no idea I was capable of such language–and he was impressed.
But I think it is good to act out of character once in a while–to reveal a side we show only a very few.
Afterwards I admit I’m a mixture of embarrassed and pleased.And you thought you had me figured out…ha! but Oh, I probably shouldn’t’ve done that.
What have you done that is out of character?