My father tells me, when I get married next (he's hanging on to the hope of grandchildren), I should marry someone with as much in common with me as possible. His image of that is a Nice well-to-do Southern man with a little more education than is good for him who likes to hunt, fish and play golf. Which, technically is more in common with my dad than with me...but who am I to argue? I'm a miserable golfer.
I point out that he and his wife have little in common. He's travelled, she hasn't. He loves tromping around in the woods, she'd rather stick pins in her eyes. He likes beer, motorcycles, guns, boats, the beach. She hates those things. So what's so comon between them? Their background, he tells me. They were raised in similar situations. Rural, not that wealthy. They climbed trees and got chigger bites picking blackberries as kids. They came from church-going southern protestant families. So this is the groundwork of commonality he means.
Okay so I need to find someone who was raised like me. Oh dear. Someone who saw more of the world before they could do long division than most people see their whole lives. Someone who was raised with absolutely no sense of racial division (Thanks Mom, Steve, Willie and Debra!). Need a man who's education is a mishmosh between the elite ivy league and the barely literate. Yeah...like that's going to happen.
So I'm apparently a hard fit if I try to match up background-wise. But my formative years were spent in non-American cultures. So I love other cultures. Not just to read about. But to eat like and dress like. I have a Kimono Collection. I know how to make at least four different dishes using Bacalhau. I like the Shisha (sometimes). I can say "Hello" "How are you?" "Please" and "Thank you" in seven different languages. If I ever had a dream job, it would be as a Travel writer.
So when it comes to a life partner, I think I need someone from another culture. I need someone who I can learn from, who challenges my brain and sensibilities. Someone who I can take care of in terms of protecting them from boorish insensitive Americans. Someone who likes to travel.
The Portuguese guy in Canada seemed a good fit. His family was basically mine, if we lived in Portugal. His parents were both remarried after an icky divorce. But he was, I think, more happy being sad than I could cope with. Portuguese people has a beautful sad nostalgia to them that makes great food, music and poetry. But being depressed all the time is bad for me.
So now we have the fella. He's Egyptian. But he's cheerful, pleasant and calm. Calm I need. I can be a ball of rumbling chaos sometimes. He's polite, which I LOVE. But where the Portuguese guy had at least been raised Catholic and his father was a C&E Catholic; the fella is Muslim. Strangely I find that a benefit. It gives me something new to learn about. And I am a rapid absorbing sponge when given something to latch onto and learn. He practices his faith. He prays and fasts and is kind and charitable. But he's not scary at all. By the way, I don't mean that Islam is scary, I mean that any religion that consumes the mind beyond intellect or reason is scary to me. Fundamental Christians scare the bejeezus out of me. He approaches his faith with a sense of practicality and logic I admire. "There is no compulsion in religion," he says, "And your religion should be simple. It's not a hardship. It's a part of your life, one of the best parts." he's told me. I like that thought. If all of Islam were like him, I would have converted in a heartbeat.
So here, I have to point out that I can't follow my dad's advised. Children are not raised like me. I can hear the "Army brats are raised like that!" and I can only say, yeah, but I haven't met one who clicks with me. Most I have met (And living near two AF Bases, I have met more than my share) resent the travelling and moving. If they have lived abroad, they resent coming back to America.
Besides, I need the exotic in my life. An Army Brat, god bless and love them and their families, only carries a shadow of that, and I like living my life in technicolor.