For the past several months, my son had been pestering me to throw a party to celebrate his birthday. As a student mom not very good at multitasking, I kept on giving him assurances that his wish would be granted. I told him that his birthday party would be celebrated at the venue of his choice and he would celebrate his birthday with his friends there.
His birthday came and went. He said with a sad face, ” Look mom, if you are going to organize a party for me then it has to be now please, or you can tell me we are not going to have one and that’s fine, I will be sad and disappointed but fine.
Needless to say, my heart bled and I felt like I was the worst person on the entire planet. That, however, served as a wake-up call. I went to a nice place and booked a party package for him. A package that required almost no efforts from me, as I just needed to provide them with a cake and they would make all the arrangements like provision of snacks etc. to the guests.
That sure was a huge relief. On the D-Day, I went there early to receive our guests who started arriving on time. The place had an area designated for our party and many parents decided to join in the celebrations. Being an Arab, my cultural norms don’t allow me to sit with the guests without offering them anything to eat. When they started gathering and sitting, I felt so ashamed as I had nothing to offer them. The snacks promised by the organizers would be served at the mealtime for children. My cheeks turned hot and I felt embarrassed. I rushed to the ordering desk and placed a quick order for hot beverages for everyone and I ran back to stay with my guests.
To my surprise, people just greeted me and exchanged some words with me and then they sat together — given the fact they previously knew each other — and to a certain extent they ignored me. After a few minutes food and drinks arrived and they sat casually enjoying their time. Well, I then realized, they were not waiting for any form of hospitality from my part, they did not even consider themselves guests and were not waiting for me to come and sit with them. OK, no problem. I just casually told them that they are the food and drinks are free. I swallowed my first shock and another feel of anger accumulated inside me, most of the children came with only a card, for God’s sake, they could have brought something cheap but it would have meant a lot to my son. I just remembered the tons of gifts children exchange (from poor parents’ pockets) in their parties. OK, never mind, at least they came and my son was having a great time. Then playtime was over and children gathered to eat. At that time the long awaited snacks for parents arrived and moms were there with their children so I told them they could help themselves. At the same time fathers were sitting on the tables and I wanted them to come to have snacks. At that time, the very traditional Saudi/Arab genes were mixed in my head. I got confused as to whether or not I invite them personally or ask their wives to call them up. Is it appropriate to go and tell them? What if their wives go mad at me because I talked to their husbands? My God, no way, I am thinking like that, its really funny that even after all of this time living here still I am not distinguishing between the cultures and things get mixed up in my head, luckily they came by themselves and thank God that stupid dilemmas in our heads are not heard by others. The party was over and children were so happy and my son was so happy as well, in the car my son was opening his cards and then we discovered that inside all the envelopes, children enclosed a nominal amount of money, I was so ashamed of my prior angers, most of the children decided to give him money so he could buy whatever he liked and that was actually what he did. I tried so hard to use my parental authority and confiscate the money but children these days are smarter, I was only left with sore legs after the party.
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Email: @HatoonKadi
