The Eyes!

I was walking around lower Manhattan when I could no longer contain my happiness. "Look!" I said to my friend. "No one is looking at me! No one!" I did a little dance on the sidewalk. No one even acknowledged this.

It was true everywhere in America. I walked into grocery stores, bars, parties, subway cars, streets, apartment complexes, and university cafeterias, and was ignored. It was awesome.

A day after arrival back in Syria, changing servees in Baramke, I really missed the anonymity. Dudes, from those shoulder-high on me to those whose own daughters could be my mother, were staring. Not even attempting to be subtle, some dudes had eyes zeroed in on my chest from a distance of 10 meters to when they walked by.

I don't think this is merely a reflection of my being foreign. Since my coloring could be that of a Syrian, my foreign-ness is usually betrayed by my lack of style. Even on days where I could be, and am, mistaken for a Syrian before opening my mouth, there is the staring. And my Syrian girlfriends all draw looks as well. I might be just extra-sensitive to it, though in the grand scheme some staring is a small annoyance.

But to be without it! So freeing! In Syria, my attempts to sidewalk dance are always blocked by my well-meaning friends exclaiming "Eib!"

In America there is no eib. There is, however, weirdness. My friends in America did give me weird looks every time I would stop and say "Look what I can do!" while breaking it down on the sidewalk. "Isn't this cool?"

Their eyes said no, but all their mouths said was "Come on. We're going to be late."