Love from a to Z

ZAYNEB
TUESDAY, MARCH 12
ODDITY:
FAILS
E
XHIBIT
A: M
E IN MY
first yoga class.
My resolution to become calmer didn’t make it through even one yoga
class.
Yoga was a lot of breathing carefully—“down to your toes,” according to
the instructor—while doing things my body had never done before, so I left
to find more pleasurable things to do. Like go to the bathroom. (Before I
escaped, Auntie Nandy gave me a look of triumph as she rocked on her butt
with her legs almost wound around her head, in sync with the other women
near her. At that moment, I’d been lying spread-eagle and defeated on the
mat, so I acknowledged her prowess by whispering, “I hail your yoga
mastery, Auntie Nandy, but this disco queen is going to the bathroom.”)
As I turned the corner of the gym complex, the pool greeted me through a
long, windowed wall, with its cheerful kidney shape and reflected-blue
water. There was one middle-aged man bobbing up and down, facing a
curved corner in the shallow end, as well as a woman doing laps in a black
swimsuit and white cap.
I watched her for a bit and nodded. This was more like it. This was real
exercise.
I went back to the changing room near the entrance of the fitness center
and fixed my hijab, already wrapped turban style for yoga, so that it sat
even tighter on my head. I was wearing leggings and a big long-sleeve tee
that went almost to my knees, so it would do for swimming. Though I
might have to tie a knot in my shirt once I got in the pool to keep it from
riding up.
I got this.

---

I was going to be so zen floating in the water. Maybe even do some
breathing to my toes.
Yes. The bobbing guy wasn’t in the pool anymore, so it would be just me
and the lap-swimming woman. Somehow the situation felt immensely more
relaxing.
I wouldn’t be fighting with my shirt the entire time.
If only the windowed wall weren’t there, making it possible for guys to
walk by and glance in, it would be utterly perfect.
I nodded at the woman in the pool as she took a rest to adjust her
goggles, and she smiled and nodded back at me. Then she went back to her
laps.
I put a toe in. The water temperature was perfect, so I dropped my entire
self in and flipped onto my back.
Ah. Immediately my shoulders relaxed and my arms went limp as I
stared at the diffused lights on the ceiling.
This, I thought, as I breathed down to my floating toes, I could do each
and every day.
Every single day.
It was literally like worries were melting, disappearing into the water
through those body pores of mine immersed in the pool. Before high
school, I used to swim every weekday, and then it became only on
vacations. And each vacation I’d make a resolution to bring the daily pool
back into my life—until reality hit again via school and extracurricular life.
This was perfect.
I floated around and around, my eyes closed, water muffling my ears,
feeling my way to zen, when someone nudged me. I opened my eyes to the
white-capped woman by my side saying something.
After righting myself to tread water—where was I in the pool now,
anyway?—I pulled on each of my ears to clear them and then turned to face
her.
“Someone wants to talk to you!” she said loudly, indicating the
windowed wall behind me.
Oh. It must be Auntie Nandy.
I looked, ready to smile and wave, but was greeted with a weird frozen
tableau on the other side of the window. With a towel around his torso, the
bobbing middle-aged man was staring at me, standing with his legs apart

---

beside the fitness center attendant, the one who’d signed Auntie Nandy and
me into the facility, who now had his arms crossed, a frown on his face.
He pointed at me and then tucked his index finger in so he was holding a
thumb up, which he then pulled back in a swift motion.
“He’s telling you to get out of the pool?” The woman beside me looked
as perplexed as I felt. “It seems like he’s saying You. Out. Now.”
I pointed at myself and tilted my head at the two men. Me?
Both the attendant and the bobbing man nodded, their frowns deepening.
“I thought it was strange when he just got out of the hot tub and marched
out of here,” the woman said, so low that it seemed to be almost to herself.
“Who?” I swam to the edge, worry prickling my previously relaxed
limbs.
“Him. He’d been in the pool with me before you came and then moved
on to the hot tub.” She swam alongside me and watched as I hoisted myself
up, being careful to secure my turban. “Then, when you arrived, he waited a
bit and then stalked off. I wonder what that’s about.”
I stood up, dripping, wringing all the water I could from my shirt. “You
mean he was in here the whole time?”