Finding something I didn't know I have....

Thursday night my husband said he wanted to eat fish on Friday. He talked about ordering it from this really good store. You go to the store and pick out the fish fresh, and they prepare it any way you want it. BBQ'd, deep fried or baked. It's really a great place, affordable....heck, they even deliver. In our entire married life, we never did things like that. He wanted to eat fish, I made fish. Sure things are a little different in Egypt....buying fish from this store is affordable, having them cook it is also affordable. Some egyptians never order things like this...preferring to do it themselves. It looks good when you say, my wife did this, rather than saying the store made it. I understand that difference, and used to always put great effort into making things at home. In just this last year, I have changed and started ordering things. I'm just so tired and not willing to put effort into places where I have options....u know that feeling? And it helps that my husband gives me money......sometimes I feel bad writing that.....but alhamdulillah, we weren't always this way. I remember not having milk in my house for 4 days because we couldn't afford it.

With lots of effort, and patience, we slowly started to improve ourselves....dunya wise....money wise....and I thank Allah for that. I never forget where our beginnings were, and I always remember to give back as well. Allah created those with wealth to help others.....sometimes I think that Allah only gave us money for that reason.....it's not for US.....it's for us to GIVE. Alhamdulillah. So where was I? Oh yeah...the fish. Hubby wants to eat fish...he wants to order it. But I decided to step in on that idea, and told him that considering Friday was Farmer's market day, that I'd be able to get nice fresh fish there, and I'd make the fish myself. I know that would please him.

Let me give you a little background here. The last time my hubby was in Egypt.....June.....our visit was horrible. He owed me 4 mos and got his ticket for a month. I was going crazy....literally. And I spoke my mind.....I got out all those icky feelings that I had lying deep inside me and fell into a deep depression. I never cooked, I lay in bed, and the world existed outside my bedroom door. My husband was going nuts at my lack of interest.....and I was going nuts with him. My dear sweet 11 yr old would come in the room and hold my hand and ask me..."Mama, don't you want to cook dinner?"....and she'd talk and talk and talk....rubbing my arms, my legs....as if her touch was magic and she could rub the life back into them. I suppose they were. At the same time, she was finding excuses to go for walks with her father and talk to him....she was really trying to fix some things...and I ache for her, knowing how much effort she put into us at that time. When he would talk to her, his major complaint was that I wasn't cooking anymore. Not even a month later, he was sending us to be with him in Canada. SubhanAllah!

So now that he's here in Egypt, she's concerned about me cooking. Concerned that if I don't cook, the problems will start again.....I want to allay her fears....so I'm cooking all sorts of things to make HER happy and feel secure. I made pickled turnip and lemons, rice pudding, stuffed cabbage, etc., etc.....all the things that a nice loving home include. And then came up the issue of fish. I could have just ordered from the store.....but I thought about my 11 yr old and said to myself....if I went to the farmer's market and got it, and made it at home....it'd make her happy. She'd see that I'm trying and feel at ease.

So I got up early on Friday morning and looked out the window. OH MY! It was sooo windy, and dark grey clouds and COLD! But I already commited to this, so I got on my way. I decided to get catfish and bolti. Now I like the medium size catfish and I went to one seller and told him...I want 3 KGS of medium catfish....so he started getting them and putting them in the bag, and then...he started throwing in small ones. Really small ones. So I said to him...I don't want those...I want medium size ones. He said....oh these are better, oh this is just so that the scale will read 3 KGs exactly.....lots of excuses. Normally, I would take my bag with a sigh, and pay the guy. But not today....somehow I was standing there, listening to his poor ass excuses, as he tried to fill my bag with little catfish and I said loudly...I DON'T WANT THOSE! He continued with his stories, so I just said to him...thanks but no thanks....and walked away.

It felt good. It felt righteous. No more being Mrs. Nice Buyer taking whatever gets shoved her way. It was liberating. I then proceeded to buy catfish from the seller directly across from him.....LOL! The guy sent a little kid to me who said that the guy wanted to talk to me......I answered him...."Why? I don't owe him anything"

So I got both my fish and went over to the fish cleaners....they sit there on benches, with their scissors and knives and pails of clean water....and clean fish for a ridiculously low price....subhanAllah! I felt bad for them that day...the weather was freezing, and they had their hands in cold, wet fish. I stood there, waiting for my fish to be done, and the wind was blowing things away, blowing things down....and finally, a huge rainstorm blew in. Freezing cold water pounded everyone....and still people were buying and selling.....even me, as I stood waiting for the fish for my husband. The fish that would make my 11 yr old daughter happy. Anything to keep the peace.

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I guess that feeling of righteous anger spilled over into later evening. After dinner, my husband told the girls to come sit in the livingroom, he wanted to have a talk. I could barely conceal my nervousness at this....at the way he approached it and what exactly he would bring up. It wasn't what I expected. He went on a little rant about cleaning and organizing. Jeez! Talked about how things are messed up and he can't stand it. (the house was good until his BIL came with his 5 daughters and stayed for 2 days, they didn't bring clothes with them, so our closets were turned upside down) Hubby said how can a house with 3 capable women be in this state of disarray? He said many things and talked about his own family and how a house full of 6 brothers and 2 sisters, (and a mother who was too sick to do anything) used to be spotless. How is youngest sister used to do everything. And then he talked about the flitting brother and how he used to help her. He made dua for that brother while he was talking. Then he turned to the girls and asked them...do you like the way the house looks? No one answered. He asked again. No answer. So he says...so you like the house like this?

The 14 yr old stepped up......"the house isn't always like this, Baba....it's usually cleaner....everything was perfect when you came, but you brought a lot of stuff with you...the next day was Eid and the slaughtering....so things didn't get done....then the family came and that added to it. They used our clothes and their kids made a mess, we need a chance to get things together." Well said, my dear. But then he answered....so u like it, then? I stepped in..."She didn't say she liked it...she's explaining to you what she sees, no one likes the house messed up...but we need a chance to get things done....and the weather hasn't helped with the laundry, no sun and raining....we hang clothes outside....there are reasons why we are at a standstill" He sat quietly. Thinking.

Then he says...."what are you guys going to do when Mama has the baby?" I cut in fast..."but you said you are going to be here...!" And he said....insha Allah. So I says, well you can help then. He levelled me with these eyes and said in a controlled anger tone..."I don't clean!" I looked at him and said, "why not?" "I DON"T CLEAN!"....losing some of that control. So I says..."the prophet, saw, used to help his wives....what's the problem?" Now he yelled...I DON"T CLEAN!

I lost it....I yelled back..."WE ARE JUST TALKING....BE NICE WHEN YOU TALK TO ME!" and then stood up and took off my slipper and held it in my hand...."THAT'S FINE, JUST LEAVE ME TO RAISE 5 DAMN KIDS ALONE!" and threw my slipper at the wall....stormed to my room and SLAMMED my bedroom door.

I have no idea how that happened. I don't know where it came from. Partly it had to do with him making dua for his brother helping his sister, and then saying that he wouldn't do that.....what sort of message is that? And then when I told him the prophet, saw, used to help....his same refusal and my brain processing the fact that he could marry other wives and call it sunnah, but not help his wife under the same reasoning. So it was frustrating righteous anger that was gripping my insides until I finally exploded. He ordered the girls into their rooms, and sat in the livingroom for a good 1 1/2 hours. The 11 yr old was the only one brave enough to sneak out of her room to me....followed shortly after by the 14 yr old. They weren't upset. They weren't crying. They told me that he deserved it. I told them that I lost my temper. The 11 yr old then made her way back to her father to try and calm him down and see how he's doing.

He eventually went to the small livingroom and sat watching the islamic channel.....until at least 2 am. He slept on the couch. I stayed in my room all night, leaving only once to go to the bathroom. This morning when he woke up, I asked him if he wanted something to drink....not now he said. Okay. The 11 yr old made him breakfast.....I sat on my bed, and he came out of the shower and I asked him if he wanted to wear jeans or dressy clothes. He said he would wear what he had hanging behind the door. Okay. He put an outfit together, and finally I couldn't stand it....and told him that it didn't look good. He said it wouldn't hurt. and then I said, no it doesn't hurt. but it doesn't look good either. He started to look for something else to change in to and then just changed his mind. SubhanAllah. Like HA, as much as I'm disappointed in him or hurt or angry....I want him to take care of himself. He left with what he chose....ahh well.

So where am I going with all this? Well somewhere deep inside me, I found that inner bitch. The essence of her. I think that to keep my sanity, I need to be able to yell sometimes. Oh, I know the humble muslim wife and all....but I've been doing that for 16 yrs, with all my faith and belief....and right now....I find myself somewhere where I am being served unjustice, and unfairness.....so I need to be able to speak out. Don't forget that Hafsa used to argue with the prophet, saw. Did you read that before? I read once that one of the wives put her hands on his chest and pushed him. It may have been Hafsa, I'm not sure. I'm not saying to anyone to become husband beaters....I'm saying......that even the wives of the prophet spoke their minds. Me doing so doesn't make me less of a muslimah, not even a bad muslimah.

I will always give him his rights, unless I am phsically incapable of doing so. Even if I am hurting, angry or any other feeling that makes you not feel like doing anything. I will give him his rights and I will even try to please him. Yes, even if it means standing out in freezing rain buying fish to keep the family peace. I'll do it. But time to time, I WILL SPEAK MY MIND. I really have no choice anymore.......keeping that voice inside me is drowning me. Literally......

Out with the old Safa, in with the new. It's scary though. It really is.