Tinderella
Her chronicles on transition, roommates, and men
Hold the coffee. Meeting Nancy was over steak and sauteed vegetables. As we prepared lunch, two Martinis, an intriguing discussion, and air-conditioning, we were isolated from the 42 degrees in Doha.
She was ready to go anywhere, joining the other talents who had to leave Lebanon seeking other opportunities. This one English teacher turned down an offer from Congo. The offer from Sri Lanka was a close call. Or so she thought. After receiving the documentation, her two-day short-lived dream of working reasonable hours, enjoying a massage every so often, and tucking money away burst as she recalculated the package again. A Sri Lankan rupee is not the same as an Indian one! The package was way off!
For the past nine months, Doha has been where she has settled.
But the hair!
She was given 48 hours to pack and report to her new mission. Leaving home, her country, and her workplace for the past 12 years was a tough pill to swallow. All her apprehensions, stress, packing, goodbyes, and uncertainty got in her hair.
“How can I fix my hair by Sunday?”
She laughed. It didn't matter that she would still be quarantined for 14 days—the hair. With a 20 kg suitcase, she joined many of her friends who had already left to other corners of the world. She boarded that plane bound for Doha.
You never know when you need to be very strong again.
The first few months were about newness: a new city, new friends, bigger malls, and new roommates. Even at 33, when you think you have things in order, life throws stuff at you and manages to throw all of you out of balance. Transitions tend to test the weakest points in us. To deal with her own anxiety, she recalled the conversations with her therapist. She confronted all the questions whirling in her head.
"Why did I leave home? What am I doing here? A grown-up woman in an apartment in a foreign city with two other roommates? I don't even have my own transportation. Where am I? What am I? Was it a good decision to leave?"
She doesn't feel that she belongs yet. To call Doha home is a big word. Maybe a house. Not a hotel. Time is working its magic. Today, she connected and feels lucky to enjoy the company of a dozen friends. Good people with good energy. Transparent and nice. Weekends and breaks are more enjoyable with them.
Sweet surrender
She believes that things happen for a reason. The universe is always at work. It has put her in Doha for a purpose.
"I don't understand it right now, but eventually, I will know why. Career-related, as part of my growing up.
As I sizzled the steaks, she asked me whether I needed help. And then she continued.
Now, it feels easier. She feels proud to show the city to friends who are visiting. As she surrendered to her new routine, at least for now, she reflected on the lessons she learned.
Lessons and reflections
She was living in a bubble in Lebanon. Everyone around her had the same background as her. She didn't know what the 'others' were like. It took living with someone who is very conservative and from another religion to understand. To understand how lucky she is to have had her parents growing up. To have been raised empowered, be free to take action, be independent, and bear the consequences of her actions. It helps when you have the right tools to survive the world, jump over obstacles, mature, and stand on your two feet.
Today, she reflects more on women's issues. She's interested in how religion, belief systems, culture, and traditions affect their empowerment or lack thereof. Imagine getting a divorce through a husband's relative with no justification, clarification, or closure. Nancy cannot understand women who decide to be helpless.
As we set the table, she said, "Please let me do something." "Sure you will," I said with a grin on my face "there's always the dishes." She laughed, right on topic. As the steak rested, we crunched on two small bags of chips.
She's had freedom of choice since she turned 18 and has been enjoying it responsibly. Some people are given this opportunity and decide to forfeit it. They're shackled to their traditions and imprisoned by their cultural surroundings.
"If you feel like doing something different, just grab the opportunity and do it."
I could tell she was speaking of some first-hand experience.
She learned how to set limits and how to balance her work life and her private life. She learned how to pick her friends better. It only took 33 years to get to this clarity.
Swipe right
One thing you get to have in Doha is the ex-pat experience. Nancy enjoys meeting people from different cultures and nationalities and has Tinder to thank for that.
Match 1: The German strikes first
Around 10 years ago, she matched with a German guy where she lived through one ex-pat experience in Lebanon. He got so drunk on whiskey that she had to drop him off at home. Laughingly: "Was I that horrible you had to get so drunk?"
Matches 2 and 3: The serious French and the Lebanese friend
She recently downloaded it in Doha during quarantine. "Let's have some fun," she said. For every 100 left swipes, one right one. No. No. Left. Left. Left. Okay. Left. Left. Ah! Right. With a few matches in hand, she started texting. Texting she did and leads she got.
"I was able to make 2 friends," she told me and paused, trying to label them appropriately.
There was this French guy who was too serious and wanted to get married. She went: "Dude. It's the first date." He took her walking on the corniche. It wasn't even dinner. She wanted an experience to awaken the wild child in her. Monsieur was not for the job.
And then the Lebanese. She suggested a sunset date; he said, "Why not sunrise?" They did it at four in the morning in the middle of the desert. She did ask him first if he was a psycho. He said no. She trusted his no. The child adventurer in her was exploring. [abrupt fast forward] She's still friends with him.
I sensed the fast-forward in her story. So, I called her on it. She laughed, brushed me off, and continued explaining that they go for coffee, watch movies, and take Spanish classes together. That's what they decided on.
And then she dwelled further on the topic and “There’s more.”
Match 4: The Swiss missed call
And there's the man who was going through a divorce. They talked for a while. The Swiss had a lot of what Nancy believes is the right person. Was it the wrong timing? Or was the situation messed up where you can't find a place for yourself in the equation? A fantastic man divorcing an old life met this woman in a state of transitioning from her previous world to a new one. A lot was in flux. He was full of surprises and very much a gentleman. Language of affection? Incremental, thoughtful, small actions.
He loves the desert. She collects "The Little Prince" by Saint-Exupéry in all languages. She suggested that he reads it and promised to get him a copy in English. Preferring German, he ordered his own. She told him she would take his copy to add it to her collection once he was done. On their next date, teasingly, he kept throwing quotes from the book. Not wanting the date to end, they drove out. Having to refill the gas tank, they stopped. It was dark. He asked her to get him something from the glove compartment. Oblivious, she couldn't see anything. He insisted. It got awkward. She reached in and found a copy of the book in German. He had already ordered her copy.
They decided to connect with no expectations. It didn't work out, given her emotional roller coaster. She fell for him. Cupid did not sit idle.
"I think there was somewhere I played it wrong, or I started expecting something."
They ended up deciding to be there for each other. She knows if she needs anything, he will be a call away.
Again, Tinder has to pay. She hates it. And she's going to delete it.
Match 5-…:
There's this other French guy. He left 2 days after they met. They still talk on a touch-and-go basis. Nothing serious.
Why are you on Tinder?
When people ask her on Tinder: "Why are you here?" She replies, "I'm here because I'm bored. I'm lonely. I'm alone."
We continued eating without a word own until I broke the silence: “It takes guts to put yourself out there.”
"See? These are things I could never do back home. Now, you can start from scratch when you're in a different place. A blank page."
Tindering with a Lebanese is different than with a non-Lebanese. In some ways, it's better, and in others, not so much. The Lebanese male ego, on average, is healthy, especially when paying the bill. With an ex-pat, what you see is what you get. Straight forward. With a Lebanese, the conversation is easier. The inside jokes are seamless. They know what you're talking about. You don't have to give the whole history and background to even start on a story.
She's been lucky to have dated many on Tinder. Most of them were nice: Two French, one South African, an American Dominican, a Lebanese, and the Swiss guy. Even if it didn't go further, she still enjoyed her time with them.
Her type?
It's about the person. It's not how they look, what they drive, or their nationality. She didn't figure out that secret mix for her perfect person. However, the experience taught her to look for the red flags you sometimes intentionally disregard. You learn to sense when things happen without effort—the real deal. If you're lucky to be smart at that moment, seize it.
Today
Nancy was so much fun talking to and sharing a meal with me. She was so transparent (okay, translucent sometimes), audacious, and daring. She continues to explore other religions and cooking with her friends. We hear that her tabouleh is out of this world. Mom's recipe. Of course, awesome.
Tinderella continues to enable/disable her profile. A few falls don't make a woman a failure. She's far from being a quitter. Her adventurous soul will find tranquility. Until then, swiping is the name of the game.
