Ramadan 2019: Day 16-18

Day 16 Tuesday

In the morning, I blocked the person who was man-trolling my posts and also wrote posts celebrating Modi's electoral success on Faceb00k.

In the afternoon, Walid and I ventured to the MIT area because I was scheduled to meet a friend from college, as well as her parents. Walid and I parted at H-Mart. I felt nervous because I hadn't seen her since 2014 when she was interning in D.C. She looked good, with a new lipstick habit she picked up from Columbia University. She seemed to have enjoyed my company and her mother was very interested in my Ph.D.-student life. Her mother probably worried that her daughter might suffer if she went on the path of academia. I found out later in the meeting that she was working at a New York corporation. Her father spoke little and us three women enjoyed his non-intrusive presence. We parted ways, and I thought they went to their hotel in Allston.

When I tried to find Walid again in H-Mart, I saw his text that he was in the Cambridge mosque. I felt upset because I did not being in Cambridge on a busy afternoon by myself. I also felt that he ditched me. When I called him I was upset and informed him to meet me. Coincidentally, I also saw my friend and her parents buying sushi and food from the supermarket. My friend's father commented on my purchased good--a bag of frozen dumplings. They did not seem to be very free or talkative as before. When I finally found Walid at the door of H-Mart and we left for the red line, we ran into her parents again. I introduced them to Walid and he greeted them, graceful as always during such occasions. I was ill at ease and we later fought in the subway. I was ready to forgive him when we arrived at my home station. He helped me return my frozen dumplings to my fridge while I hurried to meet Manho at Malden Center. Manho was early as usual. The Vietnamese restaurant we intended to eat was closed on Tuesdays. So we walked around, saw the older-than-America First Baptist church and went to Ming's (See my post on Day 1 of Ramadan). Manho was very pleased by the cleanliness of Malden, in comparison to Boston's Chinatown.

We ordered seafood and veggies. We ate and chatted, even though Manho felt that it was rude to eat before Walid. At around 8pm, Walid broke fast with my friend, Manho, and I. Manho was happy to leave Boston; we celebrated his birthday. By the end, the waiters almost forgot about us as well as the dessert they usually served to everyone. But Walid remembered, and we ate our share of a taro sweet soup.

Here are some other observations we had about tea and eating habits, which I wrote in Chinese: 看得出成长环境的不同 比如喝茶的习惯我到了17才有 而我对象和文豪都是从小喝茶。另，文豪如果早点来 是有机会认识一个四姨太的小孩 结果没撞上。我和对象翻译了这个故事 他没反应到点是什么 . 还有Nutella 我到了德国才吃到 吃过ferroro 但没想到还有如此平凡的酱版。文豪以前吃过 他来到美国惊奇于人对花生酱的热衷 觉得pb&j是一种懒人的食物。对象说他某一天并不知该三明治的做法 但自己却“发明”出来了 所以也很难说到底是美国人造就了pb&j 还是环境使然

In the evening, I was too full to fall asleep. I delved deeper into my insecurities in regards to Walid's visit to the holy place of the mosque. The membership system seems very strict, even though it does not appear as such at the surface. The same issue occurred with a Sikh temple in Germany--diasporas guard such spaces with more scrutiny as well. Walid understood my concerns about his sudden departure today. We made up a scenario about if all humans became 5-year-old children, there would probably still be hierarchies among us. We fell asleep at 3am.



Day 17 Wednesday


I went to Zumba in the afternoon and Walid broke his fast at his work. Ahmad messaged me the day before, "My mobile has been dead for the last few days and I could not have it fixed yet." I found our friendship as resilient as ever, despite the presumed difficulties.


I chatted with Amina about a new e-magazine founded by Chinese youngsters that tried to carry on our legacy from our e-magazine (South Asian Hutong). She was bored by their electoral analysis, whereas I was a bit happier: at least some Chinese-speakers continued to study and write about South Asia, albeit from a more practical lens. We also chatted about the new social media industry of youtubers and gamers. She decided to attend a talk on Afghanistan.


Day 18 Thursday

Riyadh

I went to a therapy session, which I am increasingly suspicious of the efficacy, but Walid finds that it might be helpful for me. He is more patient than me in many matters. On the way there, I read about the Greek architect Constantinos Apostolou Doxiadis' contribution to Riyadh's current city layout. I was surprised the extent to which modernist aesthetics and urban standards affected parts of the world I was connected to. One could argue that Zaha Hadid was as much a child of "Iraqi" (premodern) art as she was of modernist architecture. What I found troubling about Chinese history is that so much of Communism is mixed up with modernist aspirations, such as Doxiadis-style architecture. Yet many of Doxiadis' architectural works were designed for repressing social revolts. Arguably, modernist architecture was not very effective in preventing uprisings on either side of the Cold War. I thought (in an abstract way), that modern architecture largely failed to live up to its expectations of engineering modern human societies.  After digesting this information, I experienced a breakthrough in my research presentation for the MESA 2019 conference. 

Riyadh Development plan

Al-Shaab Stadium, by Francisco Keil do Amaral and Carlos M. Ramos (and the Calouste Gulbenkian Foundation), Baghdad, c1966

ملعب الشعب، تصميم فرانسيسكو كيل دو امارال و كارلوس م راموس (و مؤسسة كالوست كلبنكيان)، بغداد، ١٩٦٦

After therapy, I saw a short exhibition for the Asian American Heritage month at the Brookline library and also took a short tour of the Brookline townhall.

I ate at a Pakistani restaurant called Nachlo. I expected a more vibrant eating environment but perhaps due to fasting, I was one of the two customers inside. I wondered when did Pakistani cuisine emerge in America as a distinct genre and how it must have fought hard in the face of competition from the more popular (North) "Indian" cuisine. The owner was a person who looked like he worked in Saudi Arabia and saved enough money to open his own store in America. The main person handling business was a young man Walid's age. I felt that his job was quite difficult. Another more reticent man who looked like me was not speaking. I felt judged for eating at a place where people were fasting. Another Bangladeshi man bought some food and asked enthusiastically about the store's offerings, such as sweets. I found it amazing that he, as a Bangladeshi person, had let certain bygones be bygones and found comfort in desi Muslim brotherhood.

I paid, left and went home. At 1am, Walid told me that he volunteered for free. I was quite upset about it, and I said that we are not in the position to offer that kind of help to workplaces, even if we find it ethically sound. I also read about Betty Shabazz and her fights with Malcolm about similar issues later, and I found my situation very similar to hers.