The age old question.....Is common courtesy only a Southern thing?

I have traveled to many countries and experienced many different cultures, but nothing compares to Arabic culture.  I'm not going to say that EVERYONE here in Bahrain (or in all Arabic countries) is rude, but dang!  I feel like many people are lacking what I like to call the "common courtesy gene." When I visited France, everyone said "Oh...the French hate Americans." No....most people were extremely nice and helpful.  When I went to Spain, they said the Spanish were stuck up. No..they were some of the happiest and friendliest people I have met (that might be because of the massive amounts of tinto verano they drink). I've traveled all over Central America and I would actually love to call any of those countries home one day.  But Bahrain....I cannot adapt to the culture.
It's the little things that you don't have to think about in the States that seem to stare you so blatantly in the face here.  I guess coming from the South has tainted my view of a lot of cultures.  I'm not saying that Southerners are the most friendliest (we do have some racist rednecks in our mix), but we are known for our "charm."  I tend to smile at people as I pass them in the street, saying "hi" many times.  I don't cut in line or jump in front of people at restaurants....I was brought up to believe that that was rude.  It appears that here anything goes.  Should I cut you off in traffic without using my blinker going 90 mph? Sure. Should I cut in front of the line of 30 people at the DMV because my business is much more important? Of course. Did I block the aisle and then roll my eyes when you asked to get by? Heck yeah!  I find it interesting that people seem to lack common courtesies and everyone acts like it's okay....how did this happen?  Here's a prime example:  A few days ago I had a minor emergency at my house. I was supposed to go pick up my Captain America because his car wasn't starting, but, of course, my car wouldn't start either.  I didn't have my cell phone, so I tried to call CA on my Skype account.  No internet. (This was also the same day that we had no water for over 24 hours, but I digress.) What to do? Well, in the States I would just pop over to the neighbor's house and ask to borrow their phone.  So that's what I did.  Because I live in a local neighborhood with not many other ex-pats, I made sure I was covered up (jeans and a sweater in sweltering heat) and walked next door.  As I rang the doorbell, I had a feeling that this wouldn't go well.  A man about my age came to the gate and let me in to the courtyard.  I explained the situation and he told me to wait while he got a phone.  So I waited until The Situation happened.  No, not the chiseled abs, fist pumping Situation, but the Big Mama situation happened. Through the open door, I heard a woman yelling angrily in Arabic (Arabic always sounds angry to me anyway).  Around the corner comes this very, VERY large woman with very bad teeth in a mu-mu.  When I saw her, I knew it had gone down hill so I started backing towards the gate.  As she walked towards me yelling God (or Allah) knows what, I realized that I was not going to be asking to borrow a cup of sugar, more or less a cell phone.  I got the heck out of there rather quickly, slamming the gate to my house as I went.  All I could think was that I hope that I never have a real emergency because I definitely can't count on my neighbor to help me out in a time of need.
Many people would get angry and just say "When in Rome...," but I don't want to lose my common courtesies.  It is frustrating, and I doubt I'll understand it, but it is what it is here.  So I just keep smiling on and not let anyone get under my skin.....but I do make sure to give my neighbor a stink eye every time I pull out of my garage.

This just in.....American girl up the creek without a Volvo.

One of my worst nightmares came true this week. Well, sort of.  How scary is it to be stranded some where with no one able to help you? Well...I can now relate.  A couple of days ago I took a nice little trip to one of the fabulous malls here in Manama before I went to a much dreaded orthodontist appointment.  Upon completion of my little shopping excursion, I hopped into my car, turned the key, and *silence*.....nothing happened.  Of course I could have panicked, but I did what any normal girl in America would do...I called my boyfriend.  After Captain America calmed me down, I decided to hightail it to my ortho appointment...in high heels....down the highway....in 100 degree heat.  I know....not the brightest idea in the world, but for the past month I've had a broken wire hanging out in my mouth and wanted that sucker removed!  I made it to my appointment on time and an hour and a half later....after much drilling and a new permanent retainer installed.  I decided to wait for my knight in shining Civic to come pick me up.  Please remember that it gets dark early here...as in 530pm.  As I waited for him to show up, I stood waiting on the corner of the block...in the dark (not another bright idea).  Shortly there after, I noticed an SUV flashing it's lights at me.  The SUV slowly approached...with my heart beginning to race....and a man rolled down his window.  Before he could ask "How much?" I was saved by the Captain.  It was then that I realized that the lovely Russian women that I had noticed walking around the building probably weren't residents...and most likely were "ladies of the night"......and that man thought I was too!

So what to do about my abandoned car?  Get it towed, of course! But, no, that would be too easy....in America at least.  After several phone calls the next day I was able to get a tow truck out to my car.  Here's how it went:
Me: Hi! Thank you for coming out here. Okay, I need you to tow my car to Volvo Motor City. Can you do that? Can you drive slow so that I can follow you because I don't know how to get there.
Driver 1: *confused look to Driver 2* No speak English.
Me: Seriously, then. WTF?!?!?!?!?
Yes, eventually my car made it to Volvo....after standing out in the hot sun trying to converse with the drivers in my limited Arabic and their non-existent English for about an hour.  So what happened once I got to Volvo? My car cranked and all the men at the dealership gave me THE look. You girls know that look....the stupid-girl-doesn't-know-anything look.  This one was almost exactly the same, but throw in some stupid-American-girl and you get the idea.  After pleading with them to at least check the car out, I left feeling dejected.  The next day I received a call from the service manager saying absolutely nothing was wrong with my car and he would come pick me up from my house to get my car. Uh....back in the states I don't climb in a car with just any man, so why would I even think of doing that in the Middle East?!?!? When he arrived to the house it was already dark outside so there was no way I was going on an adventure with the possible perv! So, I ran outside with my weapon of choice in my pocket (a potato peeler....don't knock it! they're sharp!) and grabbed my car keys from him and ran back in, slamming doors in the process.  The end, right? No.  My car still died on me again last night. What'd we do to get it running again?  Jump started it off of Captain America's car.....which promptly killed his car.

We just can't win, can we?!