I was incongruous at the madrasa but was beginning to enjoy it. I like being the odd one out, having learned long ago the profoundly relaxing properties of being spectacularly out of place. Whether you’re the new kid in the fifth grade, or the only woman to have delivered a speech at Jamdahan’s madrasa, little is expected of you, and most lapses are forgiven. Like my father before me, I feel most at home when I’m away from it, freed from the expectations of my own culture. My father knew the principle of outsiderdom well. Indeed, a lifetime of being the odd man out helped draw him to the
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