Intro and... On Bookstores in the Middle East

So.

Paki girl, born and brought up in that country, so on and so forth…  fed on dreams of being a high-flying lawyer, academic, whatever-you-want-to-call-it. Went to the US, brimming with ambition. Did a BA in Political Science. Applied for a PhD. Directly after, got married, moved to the Middle East, and became a housewife. FYI for all the shocked feminists around the world: I like it. Big time.

         

I wash and dry clothes. I iron them. Fold them, hang them up. Wash dishes, dry them, put them away. Clean a bit. And I cook – chicken, rice, bread… All that home-comfort sort of stuff. And I enjoy that.

For those of you out there who thought this blog was going to be about a Pakistani girl, giving a fresh perspective on life in the Arab world, and are disappointed now because they find instead that it’s about a random housewife… You’re both right and wrong. I will talk about being in the Arab world, and life here (in Bahrain for the most part, mind you) bit by bit. But this blog is about MY life in Bahrain. Me, a Pakistani girl… In the Arab World. So you will get a bit of what my life is about as well. And currently, I’m a housewife. See?

The intro note was just for you to know the basics. Additionally, I told you quite frankly that I like being a homemaker for now, to fend off all the shocked statements from people who CLEARLY expected ‘more’ from me. So there.

But anyhoo… I’m sure you’ll hear about my unique feminist viewpoint if you keep coming back to this blog over a period of time. Lucky you, right? But in the meantime…

In this past month, I traveled to Dubai in the UAE, and then moved to Bahrain. Reading being a passion of sorts for me, in both these countries, I went to bookstores. One in Dubai – Borders for that matter, an international chain that has bookstores around the world. In Bahrain – Virgin. A renowned American brand, I believe. One similarity in both these bookstores struck me… Neither bookstore seems to have a staff that can really read and write English.

I meet the staff. I do a double take. I take a quick look at the shelves around me, just to make sure once more… Yes, it seems that the books stocked here are, for the most part, in the colonial language that overcame half the world. Then why have salespeople who have no command over it? The irony of it all is more than I can immediately grasp.

Conversation 1 (Borders, Dubai):

Me: Excuse me, do you have the book “the elegance of the hedgehog”?

(Pause. The Indian salesperson (SP) looks at his computer screen. I have time to admire his red tikka, and the myriads of gold (or gold-plated) jewelry dripping from his neck and his wrists in chain and coils.)

SP: (brazen, no apology or embarrassment in tone) How do you spell ‘Elegance’?

Me: (dumbfounded, then recollecting myself) Uhh… E – L – E – G – A – N – C – E.

SP: (still unmoved) G – E?

Me: G – A… N – C – E

(Pause again. SP typing something, then staring at the screen)

SP: How do you spell Hedgehog?

Here we go again…

Conversation 2 (Virgin, Bahrain):

Me: Excuse me, do you have the book “the elegance of the hedgehog”?

SP: How do you spell ‘Elegance’?

This old song again. I’m used to it by now. I suck it up and say it.

Me: E-L-E-G-A-N-C-E

SP: Is Hedgehog together or separate?

I take his statement to mean that he wants to know whether ‘Hedgehog’ is one word or two. He’s nearly as linguistically disabled in the English department as the guy in Dubai, but I have to give him credit… At least he’s faster.

Me: It’s together. One word.

Of course, you will not be surprised to know that neither bookstore stocked the book. I’m ordering it off the Internet now.

But really, folks… What’s the deal with these salespersons? If they’re so interested in working for a bookstore (which I highly doubt, by the way) then why not work for one where they actually have a chance at deciphering one of the book covers? A hindi bookstore perhaps… Marathi. Gujrati. Malayalam. Even Urdu or Arabic, please… But a bookstore where these people will be of use. NOT ENGLISH.

When I was in the US, the local Barnes & Nobles had a ‘staff picks’ section – a section of books that were handpicked by individual staff members as their favorites. A book would be displayed, and underneath it, it would have the name of the staff member who picked it out, followed by his or her comment: “this book is great – it talks about such-and-such thing in a really charming, quirky way. I wish there were more of it!” And so on… At least I got a sense that people in this bookstore know the language, and know the books. But in these bookstores here in the Middle East… So far… No Cigar.

Ironically enough, I noted that the Borders bookstore had a stall ‘Borders recommends’. Initially, I wondered if these were staff picks as well, or picks sent ‘from up above,’ as there was no personal note as in the case of the Barnes & Nobles in the US. But one meeting with the staff, and I know the answer… It’s a wonder that they were able to put the books picked out under the correct signs. Well, that’s a bit harsh… After all, I believe they can follow it out by matching letter to letter. So yeah…

From now on, I do my book shopping here silently, without question. I dread asking for another book. In the meantime… Let’s hope for salespeople more suited to their jobs in bookstores in the Middle East. Please.