Reblogged from MarySmith’sPlace:
Harvest time
Islamic rules, and the traditions of the country, dictate that hospitality is shown to guests. People, therefore, felt obliged to invite the foreigner round for dinner. Some would have felt easier fulfilling their obligations had I been a man, unsure as they were of the etiquette in dealing, on a social footing, with a foreign woman. Hussain, and usually, at least one of the others from the clinic would accompany me to the dinner party – mehmani.
Some men would greet me with a handshake, although often this was the merest brushing of palms – as though the touch of a woman may necessitate some kind of decontamination procedure to be carried out later. I soon made a policy decision not to offer my hand unless the man offered his first after several embarrassing situations in which I would extend my hand, realise that the man did not want to shake it and withdraw it, just as good manners forced him to extend his. We looked as though we were attempting a badly synchronised performance of Pat a Cake.
Continue reading at MarySmith’sPlace
Sue Vincent's Daily Echo 
Thanks, Sue. By the way, did you get the poem I sent you? I suddenly remembered my emails tend to go straight into your spam box.
LikeLike
No! I haven’t seen it Mary… but then, the way my internet is at present, can’t even get into one of my email accounts….
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh, dear. It was after your post about the healing qualitities of the sea. It made me think of the poem I’d written.
LikeLike
I wish I’d seen it…and would love you to send it again. I can still get to my gmail account (suecvincent@gmail.com)
LikeLiked by 1 person
Have re-sent x
LikeLike
Got it this time, Mary x
LikeLiked by 1 person