Fish and Chips

No, don't worry, I'm not going to tell you about how tasty this variety of fast food is (although it is) nor how you're not considered to be British if you don't like/love it (although you're not) nor that it is advisable to eat F&C at least once a week according to the owner of the restaurant I recently discovered (although I highly doubt this one to be true!!). No what I want to tell you about is a series of happy coincidences that led me the other day to enjoy an authentic/Syrian F&C in the heart of the England’s garden!

For those of you who don't know what F&C is, just imagine a KFC and change the chicken with a nice piece of cod fish (boneless) and it is usually accompanied by a medium sized portion of larch chunky chips that you're suppose to have them with a pinch of salt and some vinegar (non of that continental mayo and ketchup!)

As you can imagine it is the warmest thing (besides a curry) you can have on a cold night and that is exactly why I just followed the secant of chips one evening coming home late from work and really not in the mood to cook (actually heat something in the microwave) or order a delivery that will arrive way too late for my bedtime. So back to a calling smell that I have been noticing just outside the remote train station that I return to every night and law and behold, a new F&C place just across the street! Nice outlay, clean and most importantly a very friendly face behind the counter, after a short thinking pause (do I really need the extra inch around my waist) I walked confidently into the store and order a slandered portion of England’s best! it took some time for the fish to be cooked (yes it is only fried after you order it!) and I started chatting with the owner, nice middle age English lady that told me that they have only just opened up for business and that you should eat F&C at least once a week.

During the conversation, the man working the frying pan said nothing, at first look I guessed Greek, and there was a definite Mediterranean look to him. Once my Cod fish was done and I was eagerly waiting for it to be rapped, the lady exchanged a quick look with her husband and then asked me where I’m from. Replying that I was from the Middle east (to avoid the embarecment of explaining where Syria is!) she went to ask me from which part, slightly surprised I answered Syria (a well informed F&C owner I have to say) to be even more astonished by the question that followed, which part of Syria?!! Ok, my newly acquainted F&C owner has travelled/heard about Syria before, so when I replied by saying Damascus, I was completely taken off guard with the guy turning to his wife and telling her, I told you so!, then turning on to me and asking me in an unmistakable Shami accent, which part of Damascus (only a Shami will ask that question) I was speechless and the guy realised that and went into introducing himself, ****** from Salhieh, I returned the introduction for him to tell me, in the usual authentic shami style, "yes of course I’ve heard of the *** family, very well known!"

My newly acquainted friends were a Syrian guy who has came to this country and married this very nice British lady 15 years ago! off course the conversation could have gone on for a lot longer but they had customers walking in and I was about to miss my last bus home so I quickly said my good byes and walked back to the bus stop.

It was a really nice F&C, anyone visiting me will get the chance to try it, but what was more striking is the commercial sense behind opening such a place just outside a train station to catch all the weary travellers like me, the adventure that my new acquaintances have followed to end up in this quite corner of the English country side, it amazes me how far people will go or what they will do to follow whichever dream they have.
I don't know why Patricia & Imad have ended up opening a Fish and Chips restaurant in Kent but whatever greater power at work that led my steps there one cold winter night, I know that now I will try at least one F&C a month, not for the healthy side of it but for the much more important side of having a nice late night chat with a fellow Salhani and his lovely wife...

Come and enjoy an authentic Syrian F&C at Pine Lake's!

My "racist" views, An Arabic woman whinge...

I’ve been working in this country for the past two and a half years and before that I worked in Syria for roughly the same period so is it strange that now I have a preference to working with British co-workers or have I been completely brain washed during my stay here?

The whole question came when an Arab colleague wondered by my desk on Friday and decided to check out my blackberry! So without too much introduction he picks it up and starts flipping through the various menu options until he gets to my inbox! Now he must have realised by my slightly stressed tone that I was a bit annoyed but did that stop him at any point? No! And he handed me back my phone with a sly note that he hasn’t seen anything!

Now how do I know that no English colleague would ever do this in a million years? Well maybe because one of my closest friends at work, who admired my previous XDA-Exec and was planning to buy one has actually asked me out for dinner in order that I show his the ins and outs of the device at my leisure and during the whole time never went from one feature to the other without asking for my permission first? Maybe because my boss once noticed my phone flashing with a new e-mail has turned it face down so not to allow anyone including himself to even glance at it!

During my time working in this country I have come across a mix of Arab and non Arab workers. The pattern that I noticed every time, with all the people that I have worked with is the respect that I get from all except my “Arabic speaking group”! With me being one of the few Arabic woman working in this environment, it was staggering, to outsiders as well as to me, to see the patronising behaviour towards me and towards any Arabic female arround. the reaction was the same whether it was the one who was raised in this country since he was a child or the one who is here for a short time. Nationality differences among that group accounted for one exception; Algerians were the most civilized by miles while the rest were unbelievably … what’s the word! Arab!

I was talking to another friend and when I told him, I prefer to work with British and he was astonished with my note. I realised after saying that that I was more “racist” than the majority of the people I work with but maybe my judgment is clouded by my personal experience.

Maybe this is a horrible view that I’m adopting, maybe it is not the same for other places and with other people, maybe I irritate them with my freedom and they consider me as someone who has sold out her origins to merge into the British society. And to be honest, the majority of my friends here are British; I enjoy the fact that I can chose how close or how far I want to be with people without a long winded explanation of why I want that. I enjoy the freedom of expressing my thoughts and ideas without judgment of other or society. I don’t have to conform to be part of the group, I go out with my colleagues after work for a quick drink down the pub but they all know that I get high on my tomato juice and after the first time they offered out of courtesy they don’t need to ask or insist anymore. I can talk to my Brazilian friend for hours about everything and anything and so can she without worrying about how she’ll look at me the following days.

A lot of people think that to live in a foreign country and keep your identity you have to keep your society within you! I read a post some time ago objecting to the racism of the locals in that country, well why do all Arabs, and sorry to generalise and please jump in and tell me not all are like that, think that the whole world has to accept them as they are? Why do we not tolerate other people’s view and expect them to tolerate ours?

British people are considered one of the least accepting among other nations yet London is the most diverse! Why? Because their britishness include allowing for individuality, that is the sacred pack that they all share. Be what you want to be because you want to, respect other’s freedom and they will respect yours. Prove your worth in what you do, and they will respect you even if they hate your guts! It is strange that I feel more liberated to display my Arabic, Islamic me in London than in Damascus! Here, I’m not written out as a hardliner extremist who should tend to her religious education and seek the happiness and obedience of marital bless just because I ware a scarf! Compared to the reaction that I had in Syria when I took that step with people suddenly talking to me about marriage and commitment rather than career and education!

And maybe that is why my Arabic “friends” feel the urge to prove their role as guardians of the weaker less capable female countrywoman. They still carry their society within them; they still see that I disgrace them when I go with the guys for a drink or travel on my own to another city to attend an English league football match! They probably shake their heads and think with a sorry expression how my parents are allowing me so much freedom or maybe they worry that I’m too much of a rebel and can undermine their traditional protective role that they’re so used to.

The funny part in all of this is that I never used to feel that while I was working back home! It’s as if you somehow get used to the notion that you will be treated differently because you’re from the gentler sex, and the shook only kicks in when you’re here being expected to put as much as anyone else, and using the “I’m to gentle to do this” is the worst career move you can ever do! I sometimes worry how to readjust when I return to Syria, if and when I return, to this lucid reality of gender differentiation. To be back at a work place where all are like my “Arab colleagues” and non are like my British ones! Where respect is related to calling all as Mr x or Mrs y and nothing more, where you have to wait outside the door for a paper to be signed by the manager rather than jock with them about last night’s TV! What a scary notion that is!

Tell me, have I lost my identity because I feel like this? Have I sold out to this new country that I’m living in now? I don’t know and I’m not sure that there is one right answer for this. Whether there is a right answer to begin with or is it something each one us wonderers who live in two world, love two world and belong to two world has to figure out on our own!