Whenever I have planted sunflowers, given my penchant for extremes, of course I've planted Giant Hybrids, the kind that purport to grow to 6/8/10 feet tall. I mean, if you're going to tiptoe through the tulips, that's one thing; if you want to get utterly befuddled in the flowers, you need the Giant Hybrids.
Today I spoke with a young American woman living in Cairo who has fallen quite in love with a very fine Egyptian man. Yes, this is a cause for happiness. Love is always well-added to the world; much like oh just one small extra pinch of sugar or salt to the pot on the stove, you cannot go seriously wrong. Unfortunately, you can break a heart or two, though.
The young man in question here has lived in Cairo his entire life. He is a Sunni Muslim, not so devout that he prays publically, not so fundamental that he does not drink or associate with Westerners, certainly not so conservative that he demand anything from his Western girlfriend in terms of how she dresses or what she thinks or says. But he has not introduced her to his family.
Let's be clear. When I say "young man," it is only because I am old. The "young man" in question is nearly 30 years old. He lives with his parents in the house where he has always lived, with his younger siblings. He works in a business his parents bought for him when he finished his college studies, along with an apartment in the city that will be nice once he's done fixing it up. This is not unusual for those who are well-employed in Egypt or blessed with family money. Indeed, it's not truly unusual in any part of the world, though in the West we try to make it seem like it's something more than a gift when the wealthy pass on their privileges.
But I digress. What I want to talk about is sunflowers. What I want to say is that we need to become our biggest, brightest selves. I think it's fairly clear to anyone capable of thought or even hearing that our entire world from Tibet to Sudan to Colombia to Japan to Kazakhstan to Greece and of course the USA: civilization is at a rather low point. Or, shall we say, there are an awful lot of pots on the stove, all boiling. (This would perhaps work nicely with the idea of sugar broached earlier. Feel free to toss in an extra pinch of lovin'.)
Anyway. This "young" man has so far declined to introduce the young, Western woman he professes to be in love with to his family. He is afraid of what controversy, what tumult, might ensue. It is fairly certain there would be some. They are, after all, Muslims. The young woman is not. Their entire family, for generations, has lived and died a thousand deaths in Cairo. She has lived there one year and is about to return to the States to get her PhD. Yes. Tumult is about as certain as tomorrow, which starts in 50 minutes here.
I don't want to get personal or belabor this. I don't want to play Dear Abby or be a matchmaker; I don't, for once, even want to talk about religion or the Middle East. I just want to say this:
Oh. And take a few minutes to click on the link to "Sunflowers, Illuminated." Worth your while music.
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