the_taliban_shuffle_-_kim_barker

I
CHAPTER 3
AMERICAN IDIOT
soon learned that I rarely had the right clothes, and I rarely knew the
right things to say or do. After Farouq nished his wedding duties—no
honeymoon, just a lot of traditional family obligations—we ate lunch
at the Marco Polo restaurant, a gloomy, y-spattered hole-in-the-wall
with decent meat but no running water in the bathrooms. I launched
into a serious conversation, prompted by a book about Islam I had just
read and my annoyance with the segregation of the sexes here. Over
kebabs, bread, beans, and rice, I lectured Farouq about women in Islam.
“It’s all Umar’s fault,” I said, blaming Islam’s second caliph, who
lived in the seventh century, for installing certain restrictions on Muslim
women.
“No, Kim. He was a good, strong man, and he defended Islam. I am
named after Umar, and I can’t accept that,” Farouq said. Umar had
been given the honorary title of “the Farooq,” which in Arabic means
“the one who distinguishes between right and wrong.” Farouq took this
stuff seriously. “That’s not true,” he went on. “Take it back.”
But I insisted on my knowledge of Umar and Islam. Farouq narrowed
his eyes. Nasir understood very little English, but he looked back and
forth between us, hearing in our voices that we were upset. Nasir
chewed a piece of mutton carefully, as if any sudden move would fuel
our anger. Farouq, his voice loud but dismissive, went in for the kill.
“Well, I guess it’s understandable you would think that. A study just
came out by scientists saying that women’s brains are smaller than
men’s. American scientists. So you can’t help it.”
“Oh my God,” I said. “You believe that?”
“Believe me. Yes. Women aren’t as smart. There’s scientific proof.”
“I don’t know if I can work with someone who thinks that.”
“Fine. I don’t need to work for the Chicago Tribune. I don’t know if I