LMAO (Laughing My A** Off)

              In the Casciani household there is a demonic pair of hair clippers.  My father an ongoing joke about the haircuts I get from him. When my hair grows long and I am in dire need a trim I go to him to ask him if he would cut my hair.  I emphasize the word trim because every time I ask my dad for a haircut it begins intended to be just that; but my hair somehow becomes shorter and shorter as he messes up here and there.  Typically 30 minutes later I find myself looking in the mirror, with a buzz, asking myself why I did not just got to the barbershop. On November 27 the day after I got home, for thanksgiving break from TCU; I made a request for one of these haircuts.

Approaching my dad who was on the computer at his desk, I asked.

 “Hey dad would you be able to cut my hair?”

“No, I’m not a barber. Remember what happened last time I messed up your hair.” 

But I persisted with a grin on my face “I don’t mind, really. Please? I just need a trim”

Eventually he submits to my nagging requests, laughing.

I set up the clippers in the bathroom and my dad begun to work his “magic”.

This time it wasn’t even two minutes when I heard an “oops, crap!”

 I did not even need to turn around to look in the mirror to know he had already messed up, some how, as we both begun to laugh uncontrollably. When I did finally turn to look in the mirror I came to find a chunk of my hair missing in the back.  My dad had put on the wrong guard size, so my hair was just a tad shorter then one would consider a trim. From that point on there was no going back. My hairs fate was doomed to be subjected to the typical buzz. Needless to say, this week you will be able to find my fathers exceptional work on my head as I strut around campus.

You can be certain that my dad is not and hopefully never will be a barber. His haircuts may not provide the best results, but nonetheless they have become a cherished comical tradition in my household.

Mad Relationships

            At 7am on Sunday, November 24^th, I arose feeling rather restless.  Not having anything to do and with my roommates still asleep, I decided to do my laundry. While reading and waiting for my clothes to dry, I received a text from Mad, inquiring as to what I was doing at the time.  Although we had planned on meeting some time that day I didn’t expect him to be up so early.  Wanting to get outside and move around, I asked Mad if he would like to grab coffee and go for a walk, to which he gladly obliged.   Thirty minutes later we met at Einstein’s Bagels, got our coffee and began our stroll towards the athletic fields.

Our conversation started with what we had each done in the past week and a half.  Personally I had been busy with a number of exams and papers.  Similarly, Mad had had four midterms and his ILIT test, which after taking for a third time, he was happy to say he passed.  Mad asked me how my studies as a business student at TCU worked.  So I explained to him that each semester I take four to six classes.   My freshman and sophomore years are focused around core classes that every student needs to take.  Then my junior and senior years are spent in specialized classes for my major.   Mad found this interesting because as a student in the intensive English program, his studies at TCU differed in a number of ways.  He only has two years of schooling and he takes four classes all with the same students; and he only has two tests a year, midterms and finals.

            With Thanksgiving break coming up I asked him what his plans were.  I never thought about it before but Thanksgiving is an American holiday.   Sadly, with its lack of significance to Mad and not having any family in the United States, he simply had no plans.  I invited him to come home and stay with me in Los Angeles but he just chuckled and said “Thank you man, but that’s too expensive for me”. 

            Following a few minutes of silence, I recalled an interesting topic from one of my peers’ blog posts.    In my classmate’s blog he spoke to his conversation partner about relationships in Saudi Arabia.  With this inspiration, I began to ask Mad about his personal experiences with women in his country.   It turns out that his interaction with women has been relatively limited because, with the exception of kindergarten, all education in Saudi Arabia is segregated by gender.  The only opportunity for young males to interact with females is in a family setting.  This makes it very difficult for both men and women to find partners.  The majority of times relationships are arranged by family members, but in the end it is up to the couple to decide if the relationship is working or not.  With women being such rare commodities, the men in Saudi Arabia are typically very respectful when it comes to female interaction.    Should a relationship become serious enough for a wedding to occur, a whole other slue of challenges for men arise.   Getting married is a serious matter.   The costs add up to such a great sum that it takes a communal effort by the male’s whole immediate and extended family to gather such an amount of money.    A typical wedding costs at least $50,000.    The cost, all of which falls on the shoulders of the males family, includes a minimum of 500 guests, a dowry fee, gifts, a ring, and literally a Castle for the celebration.   Laughingly,  Mad exclaimed “Its crazy - with the amount of money we spend on one night my wife and I could travel the world”

With our coffees drained and after walking for nearly an hour, Mad and I decided to go our separate ways in order to attend to the chores that needed completing with what remained of our Sunday.  As I walked back to my dorm room my mind kept thinking of how different life for a Saudi Arabian is.   Despite having attended what I considered a highly regulated all boys’ high school, I still find it hard to imagine a life in such a highly structured culture.    I have become immensely appreciative of the social liberties and customs I often take for granted.   This has been an deeply eye opening experience and one that reminds me of the many blessings I have this Thanksgiving.

Some Mad Laws Of The Road

            On Monday afternoon, November 11^th Mad and I met once again.  This time we decided to meet over lunch at Market Square.   The first thing that struck me when I saw him was that he was quite bundled up, despite it being a fair 62 degrees. Mad’s attire consisted of jeans, a beanie, a long sleeve t-shirt, and a jacket.   Naturally, due to his rather unusual outfit our conversation began with the weather.  He complained about how it gets so cold here in Texas.    Back in Saudi Arabia it was hot year round so prior to moving to the United States he had never lived in an area where temperatures drop below 65.  Now coming from LA myself, I may be seen as a wimp about the cold, but I am nowhere nearly as effected by it as Mad.    His face was priceless when I told him that Tuesday was forecasted to be about 25 degrees colder then it was that day – and it was also going to be windy and wet.  He said he was going to stay in his house the whole day and I just had to laugh.  To this he responded (with the shadow of a grin), “You think I am joking, but I am not!”

           

While I took in Mad’s attire, I noticed he had an ace wrap around his left shoulder.  Naturally, I inquired about it.  Mad had been in five serious car wrecks in his life.  Two were serious enough that he had to have surgery.  But all of them left their own unique lingering injuries, one of which was his shoulder that tended to ache whenever the temperature dropped.    All five of his accidents took place in Saudi Arabia.    Mad said that unlike here in the United States there are no rules of the road.    In his country you make your own rules, roads become optional, insurance is useless, horns are just a way of getting through crowds and car wrecks are things to be expected.  Ironically, despite this chaos, citizens are faced with driving exams that are a lot more difficult then they are here in the United States. 

This past summer, when Mad was looking to purchase a car, two things shocked him.  First, he was amazed by the price Americans were asking and willing to pay for cars, especially new ones.  Limited to a budget, Mad began looking at used cars, where he found another astonishing fact:  almost none of these previously owned cars had been in wrecks before!   Delighted, Mad finally settled on a “never crashed” 2003 Nissan.  In the course of his search he found it ironic that despite being in America, there were less American cars here then there seems to be in Saudi Arabia.  Apparently, American cars are very popular there.   In fact, American car companies have even more car models there then they do here. 

Long after having finished our meal and as Market Square began to become full with a noisy crowd, we finally decided to leave.  Not having any class at the time,  I decided to walk Mad to his car so he would not have to face the cold alone and also so we could have a few more minutes to talk.   On our way to the parking lot a question popped into his mind.  He asked me how was it that the government could take away people’s cars and houses.   I briefly explained to him how debt and loans work here in the United States.  To him it did not seem right or fair.   As we arrived at his 2003 “never crashed” Nissan, Mad exclaimed, “Things shouldn’t cost so much here” and to this I agree.