TUNISIAN SPICE:
When a holiday turns into a horrible life changing trip in Tunisia...
The story has been
written by me, it is a real life story of an Arab-American girl of Tunisian
descent who struggles with a forced marriage and how she finally escapes.. Only
Part 1 and Part 2 are published.
Words: me
All Rights Reserved: Arabian Oud
{R}
*Please
note names have been changed to protect the true identity of individuals.
I
never imagined my life would turn upside down in a moment. My friends have been
the coolest girls ever and the most hip guys in Arizona. I know Arizona is not
like the hub like that of New York or Washington, but it is still a cool part
of the U.S. I am glad I belong to this part of the States. I was part of the
‘cool gang’ and that really made me happy. Yes, here it’s all about club culture
for the youth and for having the coolest people to hang out with. That’s what
builds your confidence the most out in this part of the world.
Life
was so colorful and there was not a worry in my life till a few years later. So
how do I define myself, well, I am a simple yet party crazy animal. I love
doing wacky things. I am medium height woman, well, I think a woman is not
quite an appropriate word for me, but being 23 clearly indicates I am an adult
and not a girl anymore. I have an American accent so my Arabic isn’t good at
all. Yes, I am an Arab. But not a typical run of the mill Arab. I am an Arab
American.
I
belong to a very American yet ‘very’ Tunisian family. My father is a typical
Tunisian, who managed to retain all those Tunisian traditional values despite
us living in the U.S. for ages now. I was born in the US, I cannot visualize my
life away from the U.S., I finished school and college here. I have two
brothers and so the only sister there is myself to them. I wanted to study ahead,
but my life just didn’t let me, with all the drama going on, it became simply
impossible. To the world, I cannot reveal my true identity, for if I do, my
life is at true risk. My father might even kill me and therefore I have to use
an alias name in this story.
You can
call me Nibal, it is a typical North African name. Where I come from, my family
migrated to the US ages ago, as I opened my eyes into this world, my world has
been all about the US, the lifestyle, the culture, the food, the music I hear.
Everything in me is American and therefore nothing Tunisian. I feel angered at
people who tend to stereotype and think ‘Oh, she is born in the US, so what,
she is still Tunisian.’ Being born in a country has a very big impact to a
person’s character and thinking. I never knew my father’s family and so it so
happened that after I could not carry on studying due to the family drama, I
decided to work and make money. I was doing various jobs. I enjoyed working as
a sales assistant at a retail store, then I shifted on to work at the hotel, it
wasn’t just a riff raff hotel, it was a really posh hotel, a five star hotel in
the downtown. But things were not very simple for me. There was a constant
hustle of problems bursting into my daily life.
My
inner frustrations came out, the problems I faced at home busted out at work.
It became nasty. And then unbearable. My parents wanted me to get married. I
mean, I am still young, do people get married at 23? I got married way before
that, like over a year ago and I have been extremely miserable and I feel much
suffocated. It’s like I cannot find a way out and if I stay here too long, I
will probably not need my father to shoot me, I will do that myself.
My
life story is complicated, but it is an adventure for many. In the deserts of
Tunisia, where a lot of the tourist goes for holidays and enjoy the suntan and
enjoy the camel rides, my life was going to change forever, for the worst.
With
so much guilt in myself, I could not imagine hurting someone such as *Saif, my
husband, as lovely and gentle as him. He has the sweetest faces, so innocent
and a loving heart. I must confess he is an extremely patient person. I thought
I could confide in him, but I was wrong. If I did do so, I would have only
stirred trouble coming over and my father would make it a whole nasty scene in
front of his family that includes the entire of it.
Saif
is 28 years old and he was born and raised in Tunis all his life. Life for him
has been pretty much within that region of the world. He never travelled to the
US or to any Western country. He spoke broken English and he fluently spoke
Arabic and French. You know the Tunisian culture is a mix of French and Arabic
influence. I guess that makes it unique, just in the same way the Algerians,
the Moroccans and the Libyans share the same league. Yes, we are mixed breed Arabs,
but still we have our identity. I guess that’s what makes us unique than other
Arabs. But I respect all other Arabs equally.
If
only marriage was as easy as people thought. The younger generation, well, most
of us, if not all, including myself, are not somewhat ready for this
commitment. It is our elders who impose this idea on us, moreover making it
sound even worse when they say Islam says we should marry early. Yes, I agree
marriage is a wonderful concept, but I guess for me it was more about a white
wedding rather than a marriage itself. Being married and getting married are
two different things. I was not mentally prepared to be with anyone. I used to
like a guy by the name of *Hassan, he confused me at times, but I fell for him,
now it makes me extremely angry thinking why I ever made this mistake. He
popped up right at the moment after I got married. That really made me mad. The
problem with Hassan was that he turned out be an extremely selfish and a big
player. He would just use others for his own benefit, portraying as this weak
person in front of the other to get their sympathy and when he got what he
wanted, he would make an excuse to end everything. It was more like a
relationship of convenience.
I
don’t even know how I am related to Saif, all I know is that he’s from my
father’s family and they got me married off to him. If I said no, my father
would have killed me, he literally got a gun out, pointing at me and
threatened, either I get married to Saif or get shot dead. It was a tricky yet
scary situation, I would have never expected my father to turn out this way in
front of me. I never imagined he would treat me, the apple of his eye to be
shot dead. I never visualized this day would either come. It truly scared my
senses and the only sensible option I thought I could make use of was to get
married to Saif, only to leave him later on. This way, everyone would be
initially happy, but later, well, no one knows about that do them. My mother on
the other hand could not utter a word, she lived in fear, and she was a victim
already. However, I must say my father had a very nice side to him, but this
monstrous side was the first glimpse I ever witnessed as an adult.
From
my father’s side, no one liked her, I don’t know, maybe because my mother
wanted to live her life her way and did not want anyone to interfere. My mother
did everything for our family, she would cook, clean and was a good housewife.
What more could a man ask for? Are expectations risen to a point where it
becomes difficult to keep each other happy? Have we become perfectionists in
our own self and expect the same from others. I don’t know, but I could not see
any problem from my mother’s side, if at all, it was my father’s side. My
father is like Saddam Hussein, that’s how I see him resemble, the dictatorship
style and even the looks at times.
When
I introduced my friend *Aisha to my parents, she was extremely shocked, after
she saw my father. This happened after I came back from Tunis, after getting
married and had a stopover in London. I showed her my wedding photos, no I did
not even look happy, and it seemed like a forced wedding. I was decorated like
a doll, but nowhere did I have the glow of a bride who is excited to get
married. After all, there was a heaven and earth difference between our match.
I did not find him interesting as a person, we had nothing in common. Our
lifestyles were so different, I was so outgoing and very independent, whereas
Saif a more Tunisian short guy, who ran his own business somewhere in the city.
I did not even speak Arabic and he did not speak good English. There was a
language barrier between us and my father thought it was not a big deal and
that Saif would soon take an English course to fill this gap. I did not see it
this way, if I have to be married to this man and in a way, baby sit him by
teaching him English, it will certainly not run a long while.
I
remember the day we got married, it was a blazing summer and I was told with
great excitement by the female relatives that this day shall be the most
special and unforgettable day of my life.
It is
the best day a woman can ever have in her life, it is like a dream come true.
Saif’s aunt Maryam, a middle aged woman smiled at me, applied the apricot scrub
on my face, while his cousin Saba oiled my hair. I remember, I was sitting on
this traditional Tunisian styled chair, the women around sang traditional
wedding songs of Tunisian origins. They were like tribal songs, music was
played, those musical instruments, the drum, the voices hooting, women
clapping. It was like a carnival. Everyone was happy but me. When his cousin
Namoora applied henna on my hands, I could smell its strong fragrance. I loved
that, it was so impressive the way she designed my palms with amazing designs.
I totally adored henna tattoos. It was simply considered ‘cool’ back in the
States. But this day was going to be written in the darkest ink, leaving a deep
impact in my later life. The house was decorated in the most artistic manner, I
loved the taste, but I was very nervous, what would happen next. I wanted to
run away, but how, I had no way out.
After
we got married, we did have sex a couple of times, but it was more about Saif wants
it to do it with me and not my intentions in the first place. How could I have
sex with a man who I could not connect with emotionally? It’s not just about
the face value, it’s a 50 50 thing, it should be half of emotions and half of
physical attraction. So why did I let him have sex with me? Well, because I did
not want to start off with problems and even though I did not accept this
marriage, but he did and not that it was something I wanted, getting married
and having sex with him, it was more about trying to have a safe beginning so I
could get it my way later.
Yes,
everything seemed okay for a while, we would sit in our house and talk and
watch television. We would have coffee together, whenever the time be, morning
he would get up early to check on his business. He was a punctual guy, he would
make sure his alarm would tick right at 6:30 am and so I had to get up too,
because I was supposedly his wife and even though we had a maid, it was my duty
as I was told - as a wife, I should be awake early and make sure my husband
gets his breakfast on time. Also, making sure, his clothes were ironed the
night before for his work.
Even
though Saif did not seem to complain because I woke up late for the first day
or two, he told me it was fine and I should take my time to adjust to the
routine. I guess he was being very patient and kind with me. I could see it in
his eyes, he loved me so much. But me, I never felt love only sympathy for him.
I guess that came out of a humanistic angle. How are you supposed to feel for
someone when they love you, but you do not and you're put in this tricky
situation, where you cannot open up and speak your mind to this person, because
he would be so dumb enough to pass it on to your family? Thus, creating a
bigger problem. What do you do?
We
shifted from the village where we got married to the city- life here seemed
different. Everything seemed stable, I was trying to adjust, but life was too
boring. I was not able to work, or maybe Saif thought there was no financial
need for me to do so. He ran his own business and I working was pointless. I was
not very familiar with the life in Tunis. For my family it was more about
visiting my father’s family and enjoying the summer. Yes, it was good for a tan
and it was good to be away from the US for a while, but I did not imagine
moving away forever. And moreover, when you do not know the language and do not
the traditions, what are you supposed to do?
Things
did not seem to flow well and I could not see myself living here too long, as
impossible as it may sound, I told my parents and my father that we needed to
sort out Saif’s visa for the US. I could not say to him blatantly that I do not
accept this man to be my husband, therefore the summer is over and I am off
back home to the US. I did not give my father the chance to apply for the visa,
this was another trick I kept in mind, and so after he pointed the gun at me
and left me so scared of him, I cooked a plan. So after one week, I headed back
to the U.S. I wanted to go home, yes I was not prepared to settle down with
anyone. I was only 21 years old and do you expect someone as outgoing as me to
just settle down for a traditional Tunisian life. I guess not.
Everyone
in Saif’s family were shocked, in fact, I shocked my father’s family, but of
course the reason they gave them was totally different to what the actual
reason. Saif looked at me and kept insisting I not leave him and go to the US
and the real place was here with him, our home. As much as I wanted to run away
the more he wanted to be with me. He was clingy, but then again, what do you
expect from a man who has just got married and on the seventh day his wife
tells him ‘Honey, I am leaving to the US.’ Not a very pleasant surprise for the
husband, truly difficult, he kept pleading and I felt so guilty because I knew
I was going so far away from him that a return seemed so impossible sooner.
Saif’s
mother even came up to me and told me to stay back and going to the US was a
decision, which was not only wrong but also made in haste. I knew time was of
the essence and I had to think about my future, whereas it should have been
about ‘our future’. Sadly, there was no ‘us’, there was only me.
My
mother even advised me not to take this step, it was wrong, but I could not
think of any wrong or right, I just wanted to get out of the country. I
wouldn’t say the country is a bad place to live in. I guess the most important
thing was the atmosphere around me and how I needed my space and needed to do
things. I mean, I know I sound like a moaning cow here, but even though we had
our privacy and no one else was living with us, I did not feel we were doing
anything productive. Maybe my expectations were too high from Saif. I knew him
for a very long time, I know he liked me and even fell in love with me every
summer I went to Tunis. But I knowing him was not enough, there were days when
we didn’t talk before we got married. And now that I am leaving Tunis, he is
pleading me that he will feel alone without me. I felt weak, but deep inside my
heart wanted to leave and just vanish. I know my approach is wrong, but what
else I could do, I felt this would take ages before anything would construct. For
instance, he learning how to speak English fluently and we just lazed around.
That is not my perception of a married life. Yes, I love cooking and cleaning
and being organized, but I also love going out, shopping and grooming my home.
I guess everything happened so quickly that mentally I did not accept the
concept of marriage. I was only forced to accept him as my husband.
The
moment I stepped into the airport, I felt a sigh of relief, but there was a
sense of insecurity what if something went wrong, what if Saif tried to make
problems by framing something at the airport. But thank God, everything went
smoothly, my father assured him I would be back and that once his visa is
sorted in the US, I will be back and come and take him back with me to the US.
My father realized I was not the sort who would gel into a very different
culture, even though this was ‘supposed to be my culture’ but I did not
consider it as my own. It is not unusual. I do not hate the Tunisian culture,
don’t get me wrong here. I was born into a country, which is a world in itself.
Most of the ethnic minorities born in the US or for that fact anywhere in
Western countries gel into two identities. It depends on how you balance that
or grasp that identity.
People
born in an Arab country probably think in a certain systematic way, but I see
more Arabs so liberal minded now. I see them more intellectual and more
outgoing. Yes it impresses me big time. I liked the Arab culture but I did not
want to leave my home town Arizona to shift to Tunis.
Being
an American Arab has its own challenges. We have our own world and we are more
inclined towards a Western ideology but we try to have this fusion of two
cultures. Arab culture is growing big in the States. We started getting into
the belly dancing scene and then getting into the ‘shisha’ mode. I love doing
‘shisha’ and belly dancing, well I tried that once but I felt quite embarrassed
doing it in public.
I
once started writing a journal about my life as an Arab American and how it
feels to be part of this country. I feel proud, since I am born I am privileged
with an American passport but not once did I show off about it. Unlike some of
my cousins in Tunis who always thought because I live in the West means I earn
a lot of cash. Riches and poor exist everywhere, but it’s the way we look at
the situation. I do not like it when people think ‘Oh she lives in the US, so
she’s earning thousands of dollars.’ I do not agree. Sorry, but I am not all
that. I do have curly Afro hairstyle, it’s so frizzy but I love this part of my
heritage. I know it sounds so confusing right, but like I said, I do not hate
my Tunisian culture.
It’s
just the way I am.
I
still remember as we made our way through departure and immigration, my time in
Tunis was memorable yet painful as I felt suffocated every minute, I felt I was
cheating someone, I was torn apart from within. Was this fair on me, forced to
marry someone then told to baby sit his future. I was desperate to go back to
my old life in the US, I knew I would settle back, it wasn’t long before I
would get reminders of my new life back in Tunisia. Once we were back in
Arizona, my father did not take long before he applied for Saif’s visa,
in fact that happened to be the first thing on his mind. I knew these things
would take long and the visa won’t be processed overnight, it would be a matter
of few months and then all those formalities he would have to go through.
The
journey had just began but I felt it was already a long mile away, I had come
this far back home but then I decided to move out and live on my own. I
considered this as the best step to be independent, nobody would ask me when I
am going home or leaving. I would get to live as a single woman, I know my
parents were under a misconception that I was a bride eagerly waiting for my
husband, but that was not the truth. My mother knew I never accepted this from
my heart, my brothers did not have much say either. I had to focus ahead and
think of what I was supposed to do when Saif would come back, so I decided to
look for a new job again. After a lot of applications I finally got work at a
reputable prestigious hotel in downtown. I even bought myself a car, I got
things unfolded one by one but it was not easy.
My
father offered to purchase me a property but I clearly refused. I wanted to be
an independent and not keep depending on my father for financial aid.
Life
seemed a drag, work was not my first concern right now, it was my health, and I
soon felt a lot of pain around my abdominal region. I consulted my doctor, I
found out I had cysts over my ovary. It was a horror, I was going insane with
emotional issues, causing me stress and as months passed by I felt the actual
burden of living alone. Six month on the row, I was feeling extreme unbearable
pain and I felt this was not what I wanted, I mean I wanted to live alone and
forget that I was even married but it was not so. I would get to talk to Saif
rarely, every time I spoke to my parents they told me of Saif’s well-being and
how much he missed me and couldn’t wait to be with me. My father kept
enquiring if I would often call Saif or not and I would say yes. I did call him
up and he would call me up but I would try to make it very concise and to the
point, I so couldn’t fake myself and say the ‘love’ word to him. He would say
it so often that he missed me and how he wanted to hug me and missed my face.
He even went on to say that he and his family wished she would return back. But
I was never intending to go back.
I was
falling sick and I was facing so much pressure at work that I nearly collapsed
and had a nervous breakdown. What ever happened to my life in those moments
makes me cry. Hassan decided to make an appearance and bother me... that was
another problem I faced, for he did not know that I was now a married woman. I
myself was not prepared to tell my friends! I wanted that as a deep secret.
But I
knew it won't last for too long...
Continued...
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