FOGO

Hungry. That’s what I was as Pan and I drove to Fogo De Chao, a restaurant we were trying for the very first time. Pan wanted me to have as much of an appetite as possible considering the place offered unlimited variations of meat and an open salad bar.

“I don’t want you nibbling,” he said. He always complained about how I ate. Arabs are used to seeing other Arabs eat like horses, but I’ve always been a woman who nibbles throughout the day and because of that, my appetite appears small. I rarely eat huge meals, and when I do, I eat very slow. Pan, like my father, didn’t like that, so I had made sure not to eat anything the whole day to chow down with him.

“Should we valet?” He asked as we pulled up to the restaurant.

“No, let’s just park in the parking lot,” I said.

“Okay,” he said as he pulled into an available parking spot.

The moment Pan put his car in park, he got a call. He looked over at me and motioned with his finger for me to wait a moment, obviously so he could take the call. I nodded my head and sat quietly as he took answered.

“Hey,” he said to the caller. “What’s up? What’s going on?” He asked in a concerned tone that caught my attention. I couldn’t hear the caller because Pan had lowered the volume, but I could see a variation of concern, frustration, and anger sweep across his face.

“What do you mean? Is he really telling people that, or are you just thinking he’s saying it to people because your guilt? Well… did you? Be honest with me, did you? How far did you get? Ahlif? (swear to God). So, what do you want me to do? Okay… text me his number. Bye.”

“Is everything okay?” I asked just as Pan ended the call.

“That was my ex,” he said.

“Your ex?”

“Don’t start right now,” he said. “It’s not what you think.”

“Why is she still calling you?”

“Because she’s in trouble.”

“So! Why is she calling you?”

“Listen, I have to make this call right now. I’ll explain when I’m done,” he said as he dialed the number and exited the car to make the call.

I wasn’t sure why he had stepped out of the car to make the call because I could still hear him as clearly as I could if he were in the car. But there are so many things I will never truly understand about Pan.

“Hello,” he said to the caller who he introduced himself to. “Listen I just heard from her and she told me what’s going on. It’s haram to do what you’re doing. She’s a good girl regardless of what happened with us, she’s a good girl and doesn’t deserve that. She has all these problems at home with her family and she’s struggling in school, she doesn’t need this…”

I couldn’t help but feel incredibly betrayed by the conversation I was hearing, especially now that I knew who he was talking about. There was the man I had now convinced myself I was going to marry, speaking highly about the girl of his past, with the woman of his future right there. The very girl he told me had betrayed him with his best friend, no less. But even if it wasn’t that she cheated on him with his best friend, she had cheated on him, which had been the reason the relationship ended. So why then, I thought, was he there speaking so highly of her? Why did he defend her honor more than he had ever defended mine? All the anger I had squashed from the past hurt between Pan and I, had begun to surface once again as I sat in that car watching him pace back and forth before lighting a cigarette.

“You know how this shit can affect her in the community, or if her family finds out. I understand that, and I believe you, wallah, but khalas man, drop it, who cares. I don’t think you’re lying, I’m sure you guys did, but that’s not the point, you shouldn’t be talking about it. Khalas, be done with it! I don’t wanna hear about it anymore or we’re gonna have a problem and you know who I am. That’s not a problem you want! Okay… good… bye.”

As Pan ended the call, I expected him to come back into the car, but instead, he made another call, I assumed to his ex.

“Hey, I just talked to him.” He said validating my assumption. “It’s over. You’re fine. Don’t do anything stupid,” he said. “You good?” He asked her. “Okay… take care of yourself. Bye.”

Pan ended the call, put out his cigarette and opened the car door.

“Let’s go,” he said to me before removing his keys from the ignition and closing the door. A part of me didn’t want to get out of the car. I don’t know why I did. Love will make you act in foolish degrading ways. Or at least the wrong kind of love will make you act that way.

I walked over to him and took his extended hand.

“You good?” He asked studying my face. My head lowered trying not to cry from the betrayal I felt deep in my soul.

“I’m fine,” I said as we made our way into the restaurant.

When we were seated, Pan sat as confidentially as the President, no care or worry in the world, and clearly not recognizing how the event that just unfolded could have hurt me. I don’t think it was that he wasn’t aware; I just don’t believe he cared to know and that’s what made it even worse.
I wanted nothing more to stay by Pan’s side, but sometimes I wondered who’s side he would rather be at. I wanted to say something. I had to say something. I just couldn’t keep it inside. It ate away at me.

“Listen…” I began.

“I’m gonna get something from the salad bar, I’ll get you something, be right back,” he interrupted.
Pan stood and made his way to the salad bar leaving me with words on the tip of my tongue and a heart heavier than ever. I took his absence to mentally prepare myself to confront him.

A few minutes later he was back at the table with two plates of fresh salad with ranch dressing.

“Doesn’t that look good,” he said placing the plate in front of me.

My appetite was completely lost. I was now filled with words that had to be spoken.

“Pan…”

“Yeah,” he said stuffing a fork full of greens into his mouth.

“Why is your ex still calling you?”

“This was just a onetime thing, it won’t happen again.”

“That’s not what I asked you.”

“You wanna ruin a great romantic dinner, really?”

“There’s nothing romantic about this dinner anymore,” I said frustrated.

Our conversation was interrupted by the waiter who came over to take our drinks and explain the way the endless meat serving worked in the restaurant. Pan seemed happy for the distraction.
After Pan’s almost dozen questions to the waiter, I continued the conversation, despite Pan clearly not being interested.

“Why is she still calling you?” I asked again.

“Listen she had sex, or she claims she didn’t have sex, but I know she did, she had sex with this guy and he’s going around telling everyone. She needed me to confront him because she doesn’t have anyone else to do that for her. I only got involved because she said she was gonna kill herself if he didn’t stop. So, what do you want me to do? Say no and let her kill herself? Why would you want me to live with that? Or why wouldn’t you be able to understand that as a woman yourself?”

Immediately I felt like shit. I knew very well of this practice done by “men” in the community who attack a woman’s reputation after she decides to leave the relationship. They attack her reputation and expose their private moments in the hopes that it’ll ruin her reputation enough that nobody will ever want to marry her, or worse, she’ll take her own life.

“She doesn’t have anyone else to turn to. I was just trying to talk her off the edge. That’s all.”

My jealousy and anger turned to admiration and guilt.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know that’s what was happening,” I said.

“Yeah, I mean come on… she was gonna kill herself,” he said.

“Maybe you can give her the suicide hotline next time,” I said.

“I’m not gonna do that. She’s not gonna feel comfortable talking to strangers who aren’t gonna understand our culture and how these fucken guys can be.”

“Well, is everything cleared up now?” I asked.

“Yeah, she’ll be fine. He knows he needs to keep his mouth shut. I’m not someone these guys wanna fuck with, they know that. That’s why she turned to me.”

“Does she know you’re in a relationship?”

“Yeah babe, she knows.”

“As long as she respects that, then I’m okay with you talking her off the edge when she gets to that point,” I said.

Pan looked into my eyes before extending his hand across the table.

“You’re such a good person,” he said before kissing my hand.

I wasn’t sure if he truly believed that or if he just figured he was lucky to have found such an understanding and compassionate sucker. I just didn’t want any woman to be the victim to that type of abuse, and so I truly felt that if she had no one else to talk to besides him, then I was okay with that. As long as she respected the boundaries of what Pan and I had.

“No other woman would say that,” Pan said making me realize the level of understanding and trust I was giving him. A level I hoped he himself was truly aware of. “But she’s not gonna call again, I made sure of that. I already cleared this up and she’ll more careful who she fucks moving forward.”

“Babe…” I said looking around to make sure that nobody could hear him.

“It’s the truth. See, this is why I’m so happy to have you. I don’t have to worry about who else has been with you or anything,” he said proudly.

“Well, how do you know I don’t have some scandalous past?” I asked jokingly.

“Because when we started dating I asked the guys in the community about you.”

“What?” I asked perplexed.

“Yeah, I dropped your name just to see if anyone knew who you were. I didn’t say we were dating, I only asked if anyone knew your name on the streets and nobody even knew who you were. That’s when I knew you were a good girl.”

Pan looked at me as if I should have been proud that I was considered a “good girl,” but a part of me couldn’t help but feel insulted. The fact that he would look to the community to find out who I am rather than allow me to show him.

“Don’t be mad. You should be happy to know that’s how clean your reputation is. Wallah I’m so proud of that. You’re a good girl. Your dad would be really proud Allah yerhamo.”

“Allah yerhamo,” I replied feeling even more proud. I knew my father would not have been happy with my dating Pan, but he would have been proud of my stainless moral reputation.

I knew the community had assumptions about who I was because of my writing, but they never had any concrete evidence that I was doing anything they could gossip about, because well… I wasn’t doing anything I shouldn’t. I was much too afraid because for me, my reputation was worth more than anything. Writing didn’t make me fear my reputation, because even if I pushed the boundaries a bit, I was still much too afraid to ever cross certain lines. So, they didn’t approve of my dream, but they couldn’t judge too harshly because I wasn’t rocking the boat too much.
My reputation was everything to me as it is to every MusRab girl. We’re made to believe that without it, we have and amount to nothing. So, preserving mine, not only for myself, but my family, and my deceased father, was everything to me.

Pan knew and understood this all too well. Seeing him defend his ex’s honor, made me proud to know that I was with someone who would protect mine just as fearlessly as he did hers. This was something I now believed without any questions because I trusted him.