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April 2007 
 
DATING GAMES
Fundamentals In
The East vs. The West
By Zain Deane

My friends stared across the dinner table at me, stupefied, and it occurred to me just how long a minute of dead silence can stretch. Then one of them finally spluttered, “What do you mean, you’re getting married?” I smiled, repeated the pronouncement and asked one of them to pass the salmon.

My girlfriend and I had been dating for less than six months before we got engaged, but even that was something of a misnomer because most of that time was spent apart, her in England, me in Florida. (She got the better end of that arrangement.) So it naturally came as a shock—even to me—when we decided to get married. To my friends, it was like the announcement of a third hand.

See, while I was born in Karachi, Pakistan, I grew up in the West. Mostly Europe, with a smattering of South America, and the last fifteen years in the U.S. I had limited contact with Pakistan, and the traditional Muslim culture here was foreign to me. I’d never even dated a girl from my background. I’d been in relationships spanning months, years, without reaching the proverbial “next level.” So … what happened? What went wrong? What went right?

It all boils down to the fundamentals of dating in the East vs. the West. Too many people associate a Muslim society with arranged marriages at the age of 13. Sadly, this isn’t a complete myth; in the more remote, tribal societies, such practices do occur, but it’s also become a gross generalization. In Karachi, which a big, bustling, modern city, there is a vibrant dating culture. It’s just a different kind of game. And we can carry the game theme one step further, as a means of comparison. Let me explain.

In the West, dating is like chess; it’s full of strategy. It forces you to think several steps ahead of your partner (or opponent, if you like). You know, the whole, “don’t hate the player, hate the game,” thing. I could even say that in chess, as in dating, the king is the ultimate objective, but it’s the queen who has the real power. But the most essential point here is that chess is a one-on-one game.
 
For South Asians, dating is a group activity. Almost like a game show; think Family Feud. A host (the matchmaker) calls two contestants into the forefront, and the families cheer them on. From the very beginning, the whole family is involved. From the first shy smile, everybody from your uncle to your third cousin twice removed is chasing the big prize, clapping and dancing all the way.

See, we get set up, just like our Western brothers and sisters. You know the deal: “I have someone I’d like you to meet,” says the eager parent/friend/relative; setups are a global affair. But in the West, two people are set up and promptly left to their own devices. Here, the meeting takes place under the auspices of at least one—usually both—families. It’s a very public get-together. There has to be a general approval, or at the very least tolerance, for things to progress beyond that first, entirely non-physical meeting. Actually, this is usually a moot point; chances are, your mom and dad know all about the young girl/boy and her family before she walks through the door.

Then there’s the actual courtship. In the West, this remains a private matter. The thought of “meeting the folks” is a huge step forward, indication of a very advanced stage in the relationship. And it can take years before this threshold is crossed. In the meantime, things can be as serious or as casual as the two lovers like, without anyone getting in the way or asking too many questions.

For us, things are a bit different. Dating remains part of the public sphere, in full knowledge of both families, many times in the presence of one or more family members. And talk of marriage surrounds the couple almost from the onset. If there is physical intimacy, it’s almost always a clandestine thing, carefully arranged moments stolen between the couple when no one’s looking.

Of course, there’s casual dating, just like there’s casual sex. But there’s also stuff like “family honor,” eternally chained to the unmarried girl’s chastity. In the West, a girl’s parents take it as a given that their daughter is going to have a sexual relationship with the man or men she dates. In our part of the world, a girl’s parents take it as a given that something unpleasant will happen to a boy who messes with their girl in that way. Look, in a land where there’s really no such thing as an “R”-rated movie in the local cinema, you can’t expect the freedoms we enjoy in the West.

Regardless of what you get away with, courtship is an accelerated process. The concept of dating a girl for months, years, without serious discussion of marriage is anathema. As early as the second date, things start to get serious. So what happens when you’re ready to make the great leap into marriage? In the West, this is the most romantic moment in a relationship. The guy plans it all out, buys the ring, gets on one knee, pops the question. The girl laughs, cries, kisses, accepts (presumably).

Here? It’s all in the family. The boy and girl aren’t even the main players, merely lookers-on. The guy’s parents visit the girl’s family, and the arrangements are made. Only after the engagement has been happily (presumably) agreed upon by all sides can the couple acknowledge it. I managed to surprise my fiancée when I gave her the ring, not because we weren’t engaged yet (we were), but because she wasn’t expecting it at the time. And it was more of a ring-showing than a ring-giving. The actual placing of the ring was, again, a very public celebration, attended by about a hundred people.

Naturally, my observations are generalizations. There are levels of tolerance on both sides of the ocean, progressive and traditional families. But, for a person raised abroad, the customs and, well, speed of the dating process came as a surprise. Not unwelcome, but certainly unexpected. And for all the chess I played, I always liked Family Feud.