My Arab Mom

Today, I made chocolate mousse, courtesy of a package from my mom that included not only the chocolate mousse mix, but also a mixing bowl, a spatula, a set of electric mixers, and four serving dishes! See the results to the right, waiting to reach optimum consumption temperature in the refrigerator at work.

My American coworkers look at me like I am a little bit crazy, whipping the chocolate delight at high speed on top of the visa files at work (I have to make it at work, because it is the only place I have access to a voltage converter). But my Iraqi colleagues think it is wonderful. They asked what nationality my mother was. “She is just like an Arab mother”, they said. Apparently other American mothers of people posted in Iraq have not been as attentive and thoughtful as my own. Here, Arab women learn empathy from their mothers. They cry when others cry, and offer gifts and kind wishes without fear.

I read a Dave Barry article at lunch today about how hard the holidays are on men, because gift giving is just too much darn pressure for them. Dave Barry is a funny guy, but missed the mark for me on that piece. The image of men as inconsiderate and thoughtless has been done to death. There is no reason why both men and women cannot express their appreciation for others, their humanity, without expecting something in return. Kudos to my "Arab" mom, who has taught me how to do this, if not quite as gracefully as she does!