Restrictive Conversations

Donn: (showing F online proof of the reason for his traffic ticket) See, here it shows that you didn’t stop at all for the red light. You just turned right without stopping.

F: But no cars were coming.

Donn: That’s not the point. You always have to stop for a red light.

F: (thinking) But this is my first ticket.

Donn: Well not all intersections have cameras.

F: So I just have to learn which intersections have cameras.

Donn: NO! You have to stop for a red light.

F: Which intersections have cameras?

Donn: Besides, if a cop sees you, he’ll pull you over and give you a ticket, whether or not there’s a camera.

F: So I have to be really careful and look.

Donn: NO! You have to stop for all red lights!

F: But if I’m really careful…

Donn: Just stop for red lights.

********

Me: (helping a young woman transfer from one community college to another. She has missed the deadline. I have ordered her transcript, applied online, created passwords and recorded her SSN, etc.) So, tomorrow we just need to call this number and see if they have room in the classes. They’re willing to let you in if the teachers agree.

L: Will you come with me?

Me: Well we just need to call. I can call but they might want to talk to you to get an idea of your English level. So we should be together. We need to call between 8 and 4. I can come over and we can call. What time is good?

L: Noon?

Me: Ok. Maybe a little earlier would be better. But I know you’re not up in the morning. (Aside: we have learned that, when visiting this family, it’s best not to show up before 2 p.m.)

L: You can come at 8, or 9, and I will get up and let you in.

Me: Ok. Why don’t we just do 11. You can still sleep in, but we’ll catch her before she goes to lunch.

Next Morning. I am late, because (long story) Donn is taking F to traffic court and we are sharing a car because my brother is in town (YAAY!) and has borrowed mine for the day. I knock on L’s family’s door at 11:15. No answer. All is still. I knock again. The third time produce’s L’s mother, in her nightgown, hastily adjusting her headscarf as she opens the door. “L?” I say. “Come in,” she says, waves me to a couch, and goes to L’s room.

I sit. She comes back, makes me tea, does her ablutions, prays towards Mecca. She brings her breakfast (bread dipped in date paste and cream) over to me on a tray and we both sit on the floor while she eats, since I’m not hungry. I sit some more.

L appears at noon.

I call, but the woman is at lunch. I leave a long message. “She may call us back at 12:30,” I say, so the 3 of us sit, the only ones awake in the house (there are 3 more asleep), in the drafty, spotless living room. We sit there till just after one, watching an Arabic cooking show on youtube, chatting occasionally about their neighbours (they recently moved), the school, the classes I’m going to give L if she doesn’t manage to get into summer term at the community college. No one calls us. Eventually I leave.

The woman never does call us back. I left her both our phone numbers, so she could choose who she wanted to talk to. Nothing. Which means she’s all set for fall, right?

*****

M: I had something happen the other day. Some Jews came by with a Torah in a box to talk to me about their religion.

Me: Are you sure? Jews don’t usually go door-to-door.

M: I think so. They had a Torah in a box. They were from Syria and they spoke Arabic and they knew our names. They said, “Are you M?”

Me: Hmmmm. (It is niggling in my mind; I should be able to figure this out. It didn’t sound like Mormons. Have you already figured it out?)

M: They came in and I gave them tea.

Me: You don’t have to let them in. I know that is rude in your culture, but here, if someone you don’t know comes to your door, wanting you to buy something or wanting to convince you of something, you can just be polite and say “no thank you” and close the door. It is not rude.

M: Really?

Me: Yes.

M: They had papers for me. They wanted to talk about their religion.

Me: I’m really sure they were not Jewish.

M: They had a Torah.

Me: Oh I know–Jehovah’s Witnesses! That’s who they were!

(Did you figure it out?)