The AmeriCan't

As a kid, I wasn't allowed to do a lot of things based on the notion that I would become "Too American."

I wasn't allowed to attend sleepover parties.
I wasn't allowed to go swimming.
I wasn't allowed to eat a hot dog.
I wasn't allowed to wear shorts.
I wasn't allowed to eat marshmallows.
I wasn't allowed to have a boyfriend.

It was believed that if I were to do any of these things, I would lose my sense of culture, heritage, and religion. I quickly learned that these rules were imposed on me out of fear and a smidgen of ignorance, but mainly out of love and parental protectiveness. Except when it came to the hot dogs and marshmallows. That was because of religious food restrictions. But, my parents just wanted to keep me close, and away from the lure of glamorous American decadence. They were just trying to do right by me and our ancestors.

As an adult, I have now done all of these things and thoroughly enjoyed each and every one of them. Recently, I was told that I am not allowed to be happy. This is, by far, the most ridiculous thing anyone has ever told me not to do.

I'm engaged to be married to the most amazing person in the universe, and I want to be happy, damnit.

Actually, I AM happy. I'm happier than I have ever been before. My entire body has been smiling since the proposal. I hear birds chirping all the time now, and no matter how grumpy work makes me, or how frustrating job-hunting gets, or how many times I stub my toes, all I have to do is look at my left hand and see the physical representation of a joyful future, and I get giddy. Giggly, even.

So, when I am told that I have to keep this happiness a secret, I don't understand. We're HERE because of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Somebody forgot to read the fine print...

travel itinerary

Leaving Paris might have been a sadder event had it not been for the way I left. On a train. A BULLET train. Specifically, the bullet train that goes from Paris to London. In TWO hours.

We spent our last day in Paris (for now) tromping through the gardens and visiting St. Sulpice. You may remember St. Sulpice as the church that Dan Brown (hack, hack -- what? I have a cough. HACK.) made famous in "The DaVinci Code."

I have a shy, slightly strained relationship with religion. It's a subject that requires more attention than I can give to a simple posting, but put plainly, I don't know how to relate to it. Yet, walking into this church, which by the way, was the first church that looked... authentic, threw me off. It was massive, of course, but it was also being utilized in the manner for which it was meant. People were PRAYING. For real.

There was a woman who was taking water from a particular saint's altar, most likely asking for help with her garden, because that was what the saint (I wish I could remember who it was) seemed to exist for. I kept thinking, "Why is she here instead of, well, TENDING to her garden? Wouldn't that make more sense?"

Europe is full of churches. I knew that when I signed up for this adventure. What I didn't know was how it would affect me. It scares me, but also reassures me that people have a guide, whether it be Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Buddhism, VooDoo, or what-have-you.

After consulting all the guides I've gotten for traveling, it doesn't seem as strange now to see other people consulting their spiritual guides. After all, it's the best way to get where we want to get to.

The Religious Experience

I want to be religious. I think I have always wanted to be religious, the way that some people want to be doctors, or racecar drivers, or moms, or rodeo cowboys. It's always existed, as a seedling in my head, but that's the problem with religion. It has to exist in your heart (if you don't forgive the cliche, I'm sure Jesus will). I grew up as a Muslim, but not a practicing one. Islam was always just on the periphery of my childhood, it was never hammered and drilled into my life. Sometimes, I'm thankful that I was never restricted to Mosque-related activities, but sometimes, I wish I had spent more time with other Muslims.

Many of my close friends are religious, in their own right, and seem to be extraordinarily happy with their particular communities. They aren't narrow-minded or self-righteous. They're not judgmental or hypocritical. They're my friends, and they're content. I want that too, damnit.

I saw "The Ten Commandments" again, last night. Man, what a great movie. I just feel so weird about the whole thing because I'm not Jewish. I wonder if the movie would have been more meaningful if I was coming from a particular faith or if I would appreciate it any more or less.

I know, I know. If I want to be religious, then why don't I just go to Mosque, pray and adhere to Islamic beliefs? Possibly because I'm scared of committing to something that I don't fully understand, nor SHOULD understand, but simply have FAITH in. The power of religion, as an institution, sincerely frightens me. I enjoy learning about different religions and even arguing to a certain point, but I don't ever want to turn into a person who refuses to accept another's perspective because it is contradictory to my faith.