Not in California anymore...

[Probably not a post to read to grandmothers]

This Thursday, the apartments in my building were inspected by representatives of the Sharia Court. For those who don't know, the Sharia Court is the Islamic law compliance arm of the government here in the UAE. Civil law governs most areas of life, but family law (marriage, inheritance, etc.) is faith based. The Sharia Court in Abu Dhabi is known for its mellowness, especially compared to simliar courts in the region (ie: Saudi Arabia, Iran, Kuwait). It's rare that they even bother with non-Muslim foreigners. But they decided to bother with our building, tipped off (so rumor has it) by a disgruntled former colleague who claimed unmarried straight couples were living together in school apartments. Shacking up before marriage is an on-the-books no-no that is often ignored, don't ask-don't-tell style...until someone tells. Then the inspections start. Turns out, the couples in question are actually married--and were never living in the building to begin with. In fact, no one is shacking up in my building. Even the guy on the fourth floor with the Bulgarian flautist girlfriend usually goes to her place--and then only on the weekends.

There's nothing like having your privacy invaded to really get the red-white-and-blue juices flowing. Those freedoms we take for granted really come in handy sometimes--and you never really miss them until someone decides to inspect your apartment without your knowledge or permission on the basis of a crank tip from a moron with an axe to grind. Not that I'm bitter. Interestingly, the inspectors seemed to spend most of the their time in the bathroom. I guess that's the place to go for evidence of cohabitation. They left the fan on in K's bathroom, and noticeably moved both of our shower curtains. In the apartment of another colleague, all the lights were left on. She didn't know what had happened, so she thought her cats had suddenly found a way to work the switches. Luckily, the superintendent of the school emailed both K and me (and several others) so we knew we weren't going crazy (especially since we don't have cats to blame).

It was creepy to know someone else was going through my stuff. It was creepy knowing that they can do so at any time, though the likelihood of this happening again is extremely unlikely. I was a little chagrinned that I hadn't made the bed. I was relieved that I'd put away my bras (which until that morning were drying on the bathroom door knob). But why should I feel one way or the other? No one should have been in my apartment to begin with! I hate the idea of someone looking through my books (as they did at K's--and probably at mine, too, but my bookshelves aren't as neat as hers). And, at the same time, I might have earned a few Sharia points, thanks to my little sis, who lent me all the course material for her Vocabularies of Islam class. There were articles and books on Islam scattered all over the coffee table. And not just for show--I've actually been reading them. Ironically, the book on top of the stack was titled "The Place of Tolerance in Islam."

And that's why I also, to be honest, hate the idea of telling you all this. I don't want to confirm any preconceived ideas that I live in a theocratic police state. Because I don't...at least not most of the time. (I live on the same peninsula as one--and across the Persian Gulf from another. But here is nothing like that.) Nor do I blame all Muslims for condoning this kind of thing or point to something inherent within Islam that has inspired an institution like the Sharia Court. Christianity doesn't exactly have a pristine track record in this department either. (No one expects the Spanish Inquisition!)

I'm tempted at this point to keep on blogging about how perfectly reasonable, ancient faith-based movements for social reform and radical equality (as both Christianity and Islam were during the time of their respective prophets) could morph into rigid institutions in need of even more reform. But I'll spare you the religious history. Though, if I can stay ecumenical for one more minute and borrow from the Hindus, I hope karma really bites that damn ex-colleague in the butt.