7/26/2019
by Stephanie Abboud and Mahmoud Eldronky
A short preface; the following are two articles meant to be read in tandem as one. Two former SUSI students wanted to share the story of their experience from each of their perspectives. Specifically Stephanie and Mahmoud wanted to write about their interactions with each other over this time and what they came to understand of one another.
Stephanie Abboud
On the eve of our departure back home, all of us gathered into a circle and were asked to share what we’re really taking back home with us from the program. When my turn came, with tears in my eyes, I talked about how Mahmoud and I each came from one of the two opposite ends of a spectrum, but somehow managed to meet in the middle by the end of the program. Everyone in the room knew about the clashes that happened (a lot and very often) between Mahmoud and I. So when I spoke, they all laughed. I didn’t have to try too hard to explain, almost everyone witnessed our stand-offs, and they all witnessed our eventual friendship. I think most of them were intrigued by the special bond we shared. As I look back at it now, I’m certain it must have been a beautiful process to watch.
Mahmoud is a year older than me, and while that doesn’t make for a difference between us, there were many other things that did. We came from different genders, different countries, different religions, and different societies. A difference in one of these characteristics would not do much –but the combination of differences in all these characteristics set us straight out on a collision path. Don’t get me wrong, Mahmoud is amazing with a heart of gold, but getting to know him was tough.
During our first days in the US, I had the impression Mahmoud was a cool and fun guy (and he is). A few days later, we had our first disagreement, and apparently, it wasn’t going to be cool between us. Mahmoud told me he did not believe in friendships between men and women. I, not only did, but most of my friendships were with men. That meant my friendships were something he frowned upon, and I did not want him to judge me. So after failing at convincing him (and at making myself look moral), I promised to show him that not only are inter-gender friendships possible, but beautiful too. Little did I know back then that this was not going to be the last of it.
Two days later, I found the audacity to ask something that surprised him “Am I an infidel to you?” This was our first dialogue about religion –the first of more to come. I did not want him to sugarcoat it to be polite, so I kept arguing and pushing him to admit that he did, but he would not say it.
The following day, Mahmoud compared my outfit (a tank top and shorts) with our friend’s (long-sleeves and jeans). He told me with so much sass “She is cold. She is cold and you’re not.” I knew then that my outfits were going to become another thing Mahmoud frowned upon. From that day on, I would wake up every day and think “Is Mahmoud going to judge me if I wear this?” I wanted him to see me for who I actually am, not for what I wore. The day after, we were going to a mosque. I asked Zeynab, one of our friends, to put the hijab on for me the way she does it herself. Mahmoud scans me, smirks, and says “Did Zeynab put the hijab on for you? Well that’s not the proper way to wear the hijab. If you want to wear it like that, might as well not wear it all” and turned around. I stood disappointed –Here I was excited to be introduced to their religion and making an effort to dress appropriately, and he was criticizing me for wearing the hijab the same way a Muslim woman wears it herself. Later that morning, he commented on my ankles still being visible and on how that made my pants not suitable for the visit and walked away. I began wondering if our cultural and religious differences make him hate me.
The day before going to church, I made sure to get back at him and tell him to wear decent shoes out of respect to the place we’re going to. I thought he took me seriously. But the next day, he went in flip-flops. He was also talking and joking all service long. I was annoyed. Why could I show appreciation for his religion and he couldn’t respect mine?
A few days later, Mahmoud sat on the bench cross-legged in a basilica! I had enough of him. He wanted me to abide by his religion’s rules, when he couldn’t show basic courtesy towards mine.
Of course however, just like every story, ours could not have happened without a turn of events. Mahmoud and I were seated next to each other in a Jewish synagogue and talked together, but I was judging him inside, having had enough of him and his strict conservatism for the past two weeks. On our way out, Mahmoud suffered from a hypotension crisis. I was so scared for him and of losing him. The tears we all cried broke down the wall I had built against him. It was then that I realized that, no matter how much Mahmoud criticized my behavior, I had profound love for him. I think he realized that too then but he couldn’t understand why. And maybe that was the lesson we both needed to learn: Love for difference. We both can pinpoint that this incident broke the ice between us, but we’ll both still admit, to this day, that this wasn’t the end of it. And while it wasn’t the end, it was definitely the beginning of a friendship (he still won’t admit it’s a friendship, so he can call it what he likes). We began talking often, having friendly conversations and small talk, and enjoying each other’s company. Dialogue. But most of all, it was religion we discussed. Does God exist? Which religion has the real truth? Are Christians going to hell? The Holy Trinity, Jesus, Mohammad, the Qoran. Everything. But of course, we would face trouble again.
One night, when my advice on relationships to one of his friends back home included “A girl is free to do whatever she wants”, Mahmoud explained “She’s a Lebanese girl, so don’t really listen to what she says.” I stormed out of the room and didn’t even bother hearing his explanation. Am I too liberal for him and his friends to the point where my opinion should be disregarded? I was genuinely tired of our antics, and was giving up on getting anywhere with him.
On our way back from an Islamic Center, Mahmoud scolds us for not asking the Imam questions. He said that he was asking questions he already knew the answers to out of respect only. I looked at him and snapped: “Don’t talk about respect when you walk into church, sit cross-legged and flaunt your flip-flops when I had specifically asked you to wear sneakers for “respect””. He was surprised of my reaction and didn’t expect it. As he was answering, I, once again, walked away. That same afternoon, I wore loose pants and a bra-top for a pool party, as I thought I was dressed accordingly. Mahmoud yelled at me for hanging around the pool when the men were swimming. He could have explained that they believe it’s haram for me to look at their nude torsos, but he yelled instead. I was starting to get used to that, but what came next was, to me, the straw that broke the camel’s back. When I was casually talking to him, he handed me the nearest jacket he found, and told me “The next time you want to talk to me, dress accordingly.”
All trip-long, I had never been as outraged of Mahmoud, as I was when I heard those words, that I just walked away and sat on my own in the nearest room. I was furious. This was him blatantly imposing his culture on me. He had reached a whole new level: He wanted to change the person I am, my behavior, and the way I dress. He was saying that if I wanted to talk to him, I had to behave the way he sees fit. I was fuming. Some of our friends tried to mediate, tried to calm me down, and talked to him. But I wasn’t going to let it slide and Mahmoud wasn’t going to take it back. As fed up as I was, I decided to give him the silent treatment. The only times I would break my silence were to snap back at anything he would say with a clever comeback. I wasn’t going to let him hear the end of it. It was cute; we both wanted to be in the other’s presence, but ignored each other instead because of course we had a stance to hold.
The next morning, Mahmoud did not wear flip-flops to church. He wore sneakers. During the service, while he laughed a little, he would stand when everyone would, and sit down when everyone did. I loved watching him blend in. But I was still infuriated, so I wasn’t going to say anything or give him credit for any effort. Our friends kept trying to mediate for the next three days. Every time, I would list the things Mahmoud told me so far and explain how this was the worst of it and how fed up I am. But deep-down, it was him I wanted to be the one talking to. I wasn’t going to make the first-move so I kept snapping at him until he would react and try talking to me. And he did.
For the first time in 3 weeks, Mahmoud and I sat down together to talk. Two of our friends acted as facilitators as Mahmoud and I took turns to speak. I explained how angry I was, and gave evidence that I had reason to be. It was the first time I actually told him how I felt instead of ignoring him or walking away. Mahmoud really listened. He gave me the space to empty everything I wanted to say. He then explained to me his point of view and even apologized. I was happy to hear one but I just wanted him to understand how I felt. And for once, he did.
While Mahmoud and I had always discussed our religions and societies, this was the first time we sat down together and actually opened up about how our differences were affecting us. And by far, this was our most fruitful conversation of all. Moving forward, he still wouldn't admit any of us girls were his friends, or that I'm an infidel, but I stopped pushing him to. He stopped criticizing my outfits, and, together, we began having civil debates about our cultures and lifestyles. None of us had changed, but we had finally learned to accept each other the way each of us was.
Mahmoud and I spent the next two weeks on great terms. We enjoyed having each other around. He hung out with us more often, went out with us, talked more, and made some inside jokes. We took pictures together. I remember our friends’ looks of pride when they saw us talking, or insisting on waiting for the other to tag along. Proud of the place we reached. Before we went back home, he told me he was going to miss having someone praise him all day long. That night, he even addressed a group conversation to me. We were talking about salvation, and I still remember him looking at me with every word he said. Mahmoud also encouraged me to speak up when I was right and make myself heard. I did so when he pushed me to. We got each other goodbye gifts; I got him a book about Christianity he was looking for along with another book: “Seeking Allah, Finding Jesus”. I thought it embodied our experience together perfectly.
The last day, goodbye came. When it was time for me to leave, I had to find a way to properly bid Mahmoud farewell. He was busy with his back turned to me, so I ran from behind and hugged him with all the strength I had. With all the affection I’ve ever had for him –all the affection I could never show him because he absolutely is against all kinds of inter-gender physical contact. And that was exactly why he was taken by surprise and screamed “NOOOOO” right in the middle of the hotel lobby. You see, even when we had managed to put our differences aside and meet in the middle, we still clashed. Rebecca laughed; it was one last Mahmoud-Stephanie episode to end the journey.
Mahmoud and I learned the hard way that no matter how different two people are, there is always somewhere to meet in. The less different two people are, the easier a middle is to find. In our case, meeting each other halfway meant that each of us had to cross over a long, very long, path. But we did. We argued, fought, clashed, and even hurt each other. But we also talked, listened, made an effort, and found a middle ground. Dialogue really does bring people together, and bridge between cultures. I was a 21-year old Lebanese Christian girl, too liberal for him. He was a 22-year old Egyptian Muslim guy, too conservative for me. But we were both young, Arabs, and we both believed in God and shared some common morals and values. It took us a long while to learn to put our differences aside and focus on what’s beyond. Today, a year in, I couldn’t be any happier that we did. Mahmoud taught me (and he still does) so much. I still turn to him for questions about Islam. But beyond that, he made me more understanding than I thought I was, more tolerant, more accepting. The Stephanie that travelled to the US for SUSI in July 2018 was not the same Stephanie that came back to Lebanon in August 2018 –and I owe a huge part of that to Mahmoud and the journey we experienced together.
Mahmoud Eldronky
Before rewriting this article, I immersed myself in the folder of SUSI in which I keep all the dearest memories to me. Rereading what my friends wrote and Seeing the photos we took and videos we made was like getting back physically one year ago. Before this tremendous experience, very often did I find myself inclined to those who were like me. This journey was a major transformation for me in so many levels. At first I found myself more comfortable with the Egyptian group, until they blended with other groups. I ended up being in company with Omaima and Zeynab, and both are Muslims by the way. I told you so. From then, they were the closest to me all along this wonderful road trip. The major clash of civilization was with STEPHANIE…
I am a Muslim from Egypt and Stephanie is a Lebanese who comes from a catholic background; thus, both of us were meant to differ. I come from a society that is absolutely the opposite of Stephanie`s. In Lebanon –I guess- the society is more diverse than Egypt. You cannot tell the difference in many cases between Muslim and Christian girls. The culture is almost the same, which is why you can see many denominations are -somehow- getting close to each other. This convergence is in matters that relate to culture not religion! Another reason is the western identity that Lebanon had fully and successfully adopted. Lebanon has borrowed nearly everything from the lifestyle of Europeans –not bad but not good either-. The society is more liberal and, in some way, decadent. On the other hand, Stephanie saw in my society one that is controlled by extremely conservative, righteously indignant, women oppressors, self-centered, etc. The situation in Egypt is different. Egypt is a majority Sunni Muslim country, while the Coptic Christians is a minority. The ethics and values are almost the same for both mainstreams. Egyptian Muslims cling very much to their Islamic heritage, as we - Egyptians – are religious by nature. Islam is deeply rooted in the mindsets of Egyptians, and with religious institutions like Al-Azhar, this love and appreciation grows even bigger. Components like religion and heritage shape the Egyptian society.
During the program, we discussed many issues and topics. Among them all, Stephanie chose to argue with me specifically about friendship between a man and a woman. This was in Pendle Hill, Pennsylvania. Given my religious background, I believed –and still believe -that it is impossible to be friends with the other gender due to multiple reasons. I provided scientific researches and religious scriptures as well, but She was puzzled and asked herself '' how a man living in the 20th century could think like that? How dare you look at women like that? What is the status of women in your religion?'' She was agitated and since then she took it as her sole mission to convince me that it is OK to be friends with each other. Later on, she asked me to define the relationship between me and her. I said that we are colleagues, and apparently she was not satisfied with this answer. She wanted me to admit that we are friends- NO WAY-. In one occasion when we were visiting a Masjid and the girls were asked to put on a Hijab, Stephanie asked Zeynab to help her wearing it. For the record, I did not think Zeynab`s Hijab is the right way to put on a Hijab, so on seeing Stephanie`s Hijab, I was angry and said stuff I was not proud of. This was me imposing my religion on someone who is really trying to be open and tolerant with my religion and I was wrong. I really wanted her to experience the ritual as I saw it and I was very excited that they will have this experience, but things don't always go as they're planned.
When she realized at some point that –for her- I am a conservative, she just asked me if I believed that she is not decent, I was shocked for I was not acquainted with such blunt in my previous little experience with the other gender. I really do not remember my answer, but I can see her waiting for my answer and me stuttering looking for a right answer. Although my answer was diplomatic (as far as I can remember), but she did not like it and figured that I am trying to escape from such question. She believed that I now think of her the way she expected and unfortunately I did then. In the rest of the program, we were extremely opposite to each other in regard to ideas, beliefs and ideologies. We basically agreed that we are human beings, and disagreed with each other regarding everything else. We talked about God, whether he exists or not, also we talked about the prophet Muhammad and Jesus, judgment day, status of women, etc. In the early conversations we had, she used to yell at me. We both admitted that they were not civil conversations. We had similarities, but the scope of differences was much larger. It is hard for me to pinpoint the exact moment in which we decided that (Ok, let's agree not to disagree). One time I was talking to my friend in Egypt and he was seeking my advice concerning his future fiancée, I asked Stephanie if she has something to say and her answer did not match with my culture. I told him to ignore her cause she is a Lebanese (liberal, decadent and bad stuff), this word meant a lot and it came out spontaneously. She got mad agaaain and I was wrong as usual.
Another main event was when I had a seizure and was carried to the hospital. Actually, I cannot express how worried my friends were to the point that some of them cried. I still remember me lying on the ground, Othman lifting my legs, and Zeynab pushing against my chest in order to kill me or help me breathe (cannot tell). I did not see Stephanie, probably because she was weeping in the backstage. This incident showed me the amount of appreciation they hold for me. After that you can say she got soft on me, because I am sick and she was afraid that I would probably have another seizure during one of our conversations.
Stephanie was everything I hoped I am not in the beginning. She is so liberal; our culture is not the same, etc. At the end I hoped that this program would never end and that she will continue to teach me though. Her qualities especially her acceptance and tolerance with me were magnificent. I admit I had wronged her many times. I did not realize how cruel am I until she told me after we finished the program. One time I yelled at her because she was about to enter the swimming pool, while we -guys- are in it. She was upset but she can`t help but forgive me. I was a hard man to deal with, I know. I learned from her in these journey qualities like forgiveness, tolerance, caring, and many more. Through the journey, she never stops worrying about me or asking me to just go out with her -cool- group for once. Her sense of motherhood was her keynote character, Long story short, that is how two ends of spectrum had met.
