Gender Intelligence???

O.K., here is the deal: I do not speak the same language as men. Don’t laugh, I am deadly serious! It took me close to 38 years to find this out. Yeah, I know, pretty late. But hey, better late than never.
Here’s is how I gained my wisdom:
Recently, to be exact 3 weeks ago I found a long lost friend and we emailed back and forth about all the things, which had happened within this time. Yes, I was still in the US, and yes, he was still with the same company. Yes, he remembered my love for Armani and Prada…blablabla. He also remembered my LOVE for noisette (Nougat) pralines. Then yesterday it happened… after sending him an email and asking whether he was still in Germany (because I wanted him to send me a box of my favorite chocolate J)… well, you know what, I write the conversation. This way it’s better to imagine.
Me: So, are you still in Germany?
Him: Indeed, but not for much longer.
Me: So did you have any Nougat?
Him: I don’t know that it can mean Nougat? Do you want me to eat it?
Me: Are you serious? That’s my favorite! What is your favorite sort? (I know this is a cheesy question!)
Him: Now I don’t understand at all! You are really talking about chocolate!
Me: What did you think????
Well, after I hit the “send” button, my light bulb went on. I got what he thought. Not knowing whether to laugh and roll on the floor about his naïve yet dirty phantasy, or getting offended, I decided to play the whole email exchange in my head, over and over.
These kinds of conversations had happened to me before and hence, this was not the first, but it was the first time that I noticed a certain pattern. Why was it that men always liked to give me come-ons? Was I acting, talking or doing something provocativly? Yes, I have to admit, I used to be a Master in flirting. But, that was a long time ago. Even my own mother noticed that I got so serious and “mature”. So, that couldn’t be it. Then I noticed that usually after seeing me in person or a picture of me these types of conversations happened. Then, it was my looks? Anyone who knows me, can assure that I dress very modestly, as liberal as I am, I have sometimes very old fashioned ideas (yes, I admit it!), and am actually quiet knowledgeable. In society, people actually consider me intelligent and good-looking. J
I compared myself to other women I know, and I came to the following conclusion: when a woman is nice looking and has some brains, I think it gets too much for men to handle. As soon as they see the outside, they only have one objective. No, it’s probably not men’s fault, but in a way women’s. Yes, I know, it sounds funny. But men imagine that a woman who takes the time to care about her looks, does it only to attract men and wants sex. If a woman has the brain, she has to be a nerd. I guess no one ever thought that we women might dress up and take care of ourselves, just because WE want to.
To close the circle and get back with this result to the incident from yesterday: I guess my friend thought the same about me after seeing my picture again. Thinking that someone who is like me immediately is looking for a man. Before yesterday I used to think that I would not understand Persian men, because they have a bad temper and are somewhat machos. But now, I truly believe that it comes to all men, regardless of age, nationality etc. : there should be a 7th sort of intelligence: gender intelligence. Men and women do speak different languages! Well, but hey, I might be one step ahead of everyone: I learned my first vocabulary: Nougat means sex in the male language!

MAXX

A couple of days ago I saw the Persian movie MAXX. When I read about the story, I thought: Hhm, does not sound bad, but it’s a musical. And to be honest, I am not a big fan of those.
The first 15 minutes of the movie were so là là, but after that: I nearly fell of from my seat from laughing so much! I read in other reviews, and I have to agree with this, that the movie is more funny and understandable when you are somewhat familiar with the Iranian culture and when you speak Persian, since many details would get lost in translation.
The story is easy and straightforward: A musician is invited to Iran after 20 years. However, there is a misunderstanding in the name, and hence, instead of a classical musician, an Iranian pop-artist ends up in Tehran. The number of misunderstandings and awkward situations adds up through the movie while musical interjections enhance the awkwardness. However, the funniest things for me were the comments and the way the pop artist behaved in Iran. Persian, like any other language developed throughout the time. The same way no one speaks the Shakespearian English, no one speaks the same Farsi from Hafez anymore. Max (The main character) comes back to Iran with the Farsi he had 20 years ago plus Americanized vocabulary and at times he ends up translating certain expressions straight from English into Farsi or hears Iranian expressions, and uses them at the wrong places.
It reminded me of myself when I went to Iran the very first time at the age of 20. My mother had to ask a family member to watch over me, so that I would not bring myself into embarrassing situations. I remember the time I was invited at my mom’s cousins house, where a lot of Iranian poets, film makers, and other intellectuals were invited. My poor mother just left the room for 5 minutes, and heard the loud laughing from the room were I was. She knew… I was asked how I liked Germany and the life as an Iranian-German. I answered that my parents had- unfortunately- send me to a catholic girls school, which I was not too fond of. I said that as a child I liked much more playing with boys, and that now… I liked playing with men. (What I really meant was: dealing with men.!!!)

From then on, my mother asked me just to keep quiet and answer questions with Yes, No, or O.K. only. Well, I was told by an older relative: “Ghorbunet beram, inshallah, Nina djoon!”, which literally translates to: “May I sacrifice myself for you, my dearest Nina?”. Instead of saying very modestly, that I would rather sacrifice myself for her (Nah, ghorbeneh shoma!!!), I answered: O.K. (Baasheh!), which turned everyone around us laughing, and my mother giving me mad looks.
I have not been to Iran in a long time now. Somehow, my mother always finds excuses… I guess now I know why.