Al-Ahram Weekly 14 - 20 September 2000 Issue No. 499
Published in Cairo by AL-AHRAM established in 1875

	Egypt Region Interview International Economy Opinion Culture Travel Living Sports Profile People Time Out Chronicles Cartoons Letters

Traditions revisited

By Fayza Hassan

I grew up in a thoroughly Westernised family, where manners closely followed the dictates of continental savoir-vivre. We children knew better than to raise our elbows as we cut our meat, or keep an idle right hand on our lap while eating with the left; girls curtsied politely when addressed by grown-ups and boys practiced respectfully kissing ladies' hands. Everyone we knew behaved in the same way and we never questioned the rules. Complications set in, however, when our foreign nannies were replaced in time with Egyptian ones who attempted to educate us to their own good manners.

On one occasion, having been called into the living room to be introduced to one of my parents' friends, instead of the expected curtsy, I decided to try out our current nanny's etiquette. Extending my hand towards the visitor, I lightly touched his fingers, then placed my own hand briefly on my chest, as I had seen Nanny do when greeting her counterparts at the club. My father's stern glance and his friend's ironic smile warned me that I had goofed. I never repeated the performance. A few days later, however, I had a chance to observe my father receiving a delegation of peasants from his native village. As they came forward one by one, bending over his extended hand, he would withdraw it in a hurry and touch his chest with his palm in the region of the heart. Our nanny, I thought, could have taken lessons from him.

Another problem involved my mother's refusal to be addressed as "tante," as was the custom among my Egyptian schoolmates. "I am not their aunt," she would protest indignantly. The right way was to call a friend's mother Mrs So-and-so. By following her advice I only managed to attract the scorn of my Egyptian companions, who derided my "French" mimicry; on the other hand, I was often warmly complimented on my impeccable manners by the parents of my foreign schoolmates.

These incidents were never open to discussion in our family; nor were allowances made for other people's idiosyncrasies. "We" knew how to behave, and those who differed simply didn't. I therefore continued pinching my skirt with three fingers while quickly dipping before my teachers, my parents and their friends, invariably provoking irrepressible hilarity among the other children whose customs were different. Then one day, as I was going through the motions as usual, my mother hissed: "Stop acting like a child, stand up straight and shake hands." I gathered that curtsying time was over at last.

Now I had to concentrate on the more complicated art of salutations, which implied summoning instant knowledge of when to stand, step forward, remain seated, extend a hand or wait for the opposite side to do so. This had to be decided according to the sex, age and social position of the other party. Any error of judgment was considered an unpardonable social gaffe.

Understandably, I am always startled when I see women in public places stand up to greet male acquaintances or when young men, in no way physically challenged, continue to slouch in their chairs while conversing with women standing before them. This always reminds me of my mother who, one day, needed to ask a favour of an important official. When she was introduced into his office, the gentleman did not acknowledge her presence immediately, but instead busied himself with papers on his desk. My mother stopped and waited. Eventually he raised his head, surprised. She still did not come forward but slowly raised her hands several times as if lifting an object. Eliciting no satisfactory response, she then said: "I am sorry to see that you are unwell. Is it your back or your legs?" Finally comprehending what was expected of him, the man rose slowly to his feet. My mother, secure in the belief that there was only one code of good manners -- hers -- felt great satisfaction at the thought of having taught the boor a lesson.

In the same spirit, I was instructed never to accept another date with a boy who had not opened doors, helped me with my coat or moved my chair correctly whenever I stood up or sat down -- as well as paid the bill discreetly, of course. Many failed to pass the test but, regardless of their other qualities, I was never instructed to lower "our" standards.

Only much later did I come to understand that women of my generation and background had grown up in a hybrid world that borrowed from East and West and created their own codes of behaviour as they went along. I had to laugh, however, when I heard my daughter, born in Egypt, raised in Australia and living in the United States, advise her own 15-year-old daughter as to what to expect on her first date using the exact same words as my mother did in Egypt almost half a century ago.

	weeklyweb@ahram.org.eg