An Egyptian living in Europe but her heart stayed back home. Having some random thoughts about the before and after pictures. Ghawayesh means bracelets. In my context it symbolizes the cuffs of my culture. I don't know if I like them or hate them. Thanks for passing by.

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I started this blog in 2006 as a joke. Now that I look back, I have decided to take it seriously!

05 November 2006

I Want to be Famous


If you want to know the plot of this post, you will have to read every word of it.

You know there are sometimes things that you hear or see and you just never forget. Things that immediately make it into your permanent memory and pop out as flying-by thoughts every now and then. They don't have to be major events. Just small clips of events you lived to witness.

Since I was a child, I have noticed there was a major difference between the East and the West in the way women are viewed, and therefore a difference in the way women in the two directions express themselves. The very small details always caught my attention and stayed in my memory. The way they dress, the way they wear make-up, the way the walk, the way they talk (this one needs a separate article), and the way they view the world and themselves.

I have those short memory-clips of some Egyptian women walking like an Egyptian-- If you know what I mean -- and talking like one: as a weasel in a porn, and using those cliche words like: "Ma3sha Alloooooo, you look like a mooooon.. M3erci3 A3wi, R3abben Ykhal333eeeeky, h3e h3e" (with a weasel tone, get the picture?).

On the other hand, needless to say that Western women always seemed more free and self-assured to me. They could do whatever they wanted, in a good or a bad way, since men often saw them as equals.

Sometimes I really wondered how far those Western women would go..

One evening I was among a group of people, I can't recall where or who or how, all I can remember is that a Dutch guy (with a stress on *Dutch*, coming from a place where you can be as rude as you want and get away with it) suddenly said: "I would forgive everything, but if I find out that my girlfriend poops, I will immediately break up with her".

I have absolutely no idea why this sentence is engraved in my memory.

A-HA! So there ARE differences like the ones we have.

But I once had a roommate who insisted on having red wine every evening for dinner.. And to my bad luck we had a morning schedule for using the toilet and the shower, in which I used the toilet after her.

MAN! What can a glass of red wine in the evening do to the odor of your morning-after poop!

I was just sitting there *crying* while turning blue every morning.

A memory clip of me entering the toilet and being overwhelmed with this "HABW" of smell is still saved in my hemispheres.

On the other hand, I have a sister who didn't do a number two for three months after her wedding out of fear of her husband hearing her fart or find any post-Kaka odeur.

I recalled all this this morning.. As I was sitting on my "throne", something occurred to me: How do cultures differ considering women and pooping?


As an Egyptian and as a woman, do I poop like others? I wonder.. Has there ever been any research on trans-cultural pooping styles and smells?

There are many options.. You can sit with your knees close together when you squeeze, or have the legs wide open, sit up straight, lean back, or lean forward. Rest the head on your fists during those long poops, or on the tip of your toes as opposed to having your feet flat on the ground; you can sit long enough to have sleepy legs, or to have toilet seat marks on the back of your thighs and two elbow-imprints just above your knees..


Do you read on the throne?

Do you take your time? Or are you always in a hurry?

Is the mission often impossible?

Do you try to be quiet in public toilets? Do you feel any sense of obligation towards other people's feelings? Do you get the guts to go uninhibited if and only if your neighbor broke the taboo and started an orchestra?

Do you go nuts when a drop of water jumps back to hit you in the butt like a stray bullet?

How would you feel/react if you found out there's no toilet paper left?

And as an Egyptian, when you go abroad, how disgusted do you feel if there's no shattafah in da hood?


And afterwards,

Do you ever say goodbye to your poop? Do you ever look back and check on it, taking into consideration that your poop tells books about your health? Dutch toilets have this great feature of a poop scoop, where there's a platform that receives the stools and keeps them on display until you decide to flush farewell.

Do you try to hide the smell like a maniac?

How would you feel if you found out that the toilet won't flush?


I wonder. Do pooping rituals say something about us? Are there cultural styles in the way we poop? Does it have to do with our personality?


And one last thought: Old-fashioned French toilets are the BEST invention for the constipation nation. The lower the toilet, the better. Did you know that? If you are constipated, just 2arfas, or put a box under your feet so they would become as high as possible. Satisfaction is guaranteed.

So what exactly is the plot of this post?

All my life I wanted to be famous. For something.. Anything..

And now that the memory of this post, and hence me, will pop out in front of you every time you use the toilet, then it is making me famous enough.

Mission accomplished.

11 comments:

Raouf said...

I could not guess that this will turn to be a scatological post.
(do you have poop fetish)
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Toilet_humour

@QueenAlyaa

"And as an Egyptian, when you go abroad, how disgusted do you feel if there's no shattafah in da hood?"

That is the first thing an Egyptian is shocked by when he travels abroad.
(In Japan you are more likely to find a shattafah in the bathroom).
It is also the first "project" that I did myself after we bought a house.

When I discussed this topic with a number of US dwellers, they told me that they try to do "their duty" in the morning and to take their morning shower right after.
In Europe this would not work since people do not take daily showers.

As for the smell, just carry a box of matches and light one after flushing, it will oxidate all this H2S and completely get rid of the smell. (In our household we have inside jokes about two-match episodes).

Raouf said...

Since when do you have Atom feeds?
I am now subscribed to this feed and get the post through my reader, instead of visiting you blog.

Raouf said...

For those with real fascination about poop such as why is it brown and what does it consists of, here is the scoop

http://www.livescience.com/mysteries/061101_feces_brown.html


By the way why not explore the early part of this post before it gets into the poop?
You had some good stuff about Egyptian women vs Western women.

QueenAlyaa said...

Raouf, thanks for your posts. I just can't believe it that I never thought of this post-poop-match-lighting idea before! Brilliant!

Yes I will explore the differences between women here and there in other posts.

And thank you for the links as well.


And what on earth are atom feeds?

Raouf said...

Since you treat your poop so ceremoniously think of the lighting of matches as the celebration of the sending away of the poop.
I have a dog and when he was toilet trained we made a big deal when he did his poop, many years later he still comes in all happy after he has done his duty outside.

Google "Rss feeds" and "Atom feeds" to see what it means. I can send you a picture on how it looks on my desktop if you wish.

The Usual Suspect said...

Hmm- never really thought about it... and, to be honest, never ever thought I'd be blogging about poop- but it is intriguing nevertheless.
Because I like having a whinge I will use this opportunity to complain about the toilets down the hall from my office at the University where I'm doing my studies- they are not only for staff but also for students- and they ALWYAYS SMELL. I'm not just talking about a slight smell- noooooo- I am talking about a stench soooo bad it burns the hair in your nose. The worst thing is that the stench is that of poop mixed with perfume- Queen I know you know what I mean and I know you know it's not good- Poop and perfume just do not mix well.
Anyway- I end up walking all the way to the other end of the corridor, down the stairs and the down another corridor just to get to the staff toilets.
Now on the subject of culturally diverse poops. My husband is Aussie and always makes fun of me because I tell him he should check his poo to make sure that he is healthy. He thinks it is disgusting that I would do that but seems to think nothing of peeing and pooing into a specimen jar for a complete stranger to analyse!

The Usual Suspect said...

Queen
I'm posting but it's not working- what am I doing wrong.

The Usual Suspect said...

hmmmm- still trying to post. Still now working

QueenAlyaa said...

Hey U.S.! Sorry I did something to my profile to make the comments get moderated before publishing. Sorry about that!

I am amazed how similar our lives are. You will be very surprised to know more about me.

Glad to see you back!

The Usual Suspect said...

Queen
Email me if you like- would love to exchange stories and views.
my email is a.aly@ecu.edu.au

zabinzo said...

Nice post. Like most blogs, it is full of shit, but this is interesting shit.

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