Alaa Al Aswany - Chicago

“All I know is that it’s a tool that enables a woman to achieve orgasm without a man.”

“And how does a vibrator work?”

“It tickles the vagina in a certain way that takes a woman to orgasm.”

The expert smiled and said cheerfully, “That’s a good beginning. But actually, a vibrator is much more than a tool for masturbation. The vibrator represents the culmination of scientific progress and society’s changing view of women.”

Chris looked at her in silence. The expert went on, “Throughout human history, information about women’s sexuality was sparse and insufficient. This was due to old societies’ view of woman as Satan’s means of seducing man. This taboo led to our almost total ignorance of how a woman achieves orgasm. The idea that gained currency and which prevailed for many centuries was that a woman achieved orgasm by stimulation of the clitoris. This belief persisted until 1950, when a great German scientist named Ernst Grafenburg was able to discover the G-spot. Then the discovery was confirmed by the research of the two scientists, Perry and Whipple, in 1978. We’ve come to know that every woman has a G-spot, which is a very sensitive area on the front wall of the vagina whose arousal brings about a strong orgasm, different from that of the clitoris. This begins with a feeling like the desire to urinate then turns into strong successive waves of pleasure leading, in the case of some women, to the discharge of a thick liquid without a smell, similar to milk. Have you experienced that before?”

“No. Actually, I don’t know. Until recently I enjoyed a satisfactory sex life.”

The expert laughed and said, “Of course you don’t know. Most likely you’ve only experienced clitoral orgasm. That’s our fate as women: our ignorance of our own bodies leads to our not enjoying them. Take this brochure; you’ll find everything about the G-spot and there are also some useful exercises that will teach you how to discover it for yourself.”

Chris took the brochure and put it in her bag. The expert went on, “The discovery of the G-spot, women’s equality with men, and their emancipation from their control forever have led to thinking about a way that enables a woman to enjoy her body on her own. A woman is no longer a tool for man’s pleasure or his physical subordinate; she is now his equal and has the same rights, most important of which is sexual fulfillment. A woman’s satisfaction is no longer dependent upon a man’s desire or the strength of his performance. And this is where the vibrator comes in. It is not just a gadget for masturbation but in reality is a scientific apparatus that guarantees a woman her sexual fulfillment regardless of the efficacy of her sexual partner or even his being there. Many of my clients use the vibrator with their husbands to achieve additional pleasure. There are husbands who buy vibrators for their wives to use with them or while they are away or for those nights when the husband has had too much to drink and cannot achieve an erection. Vibrators have so changed sexual behavior that now there is what we can call a vibrator culture. Please feel free to ask me any questions you may have.”

Chris hesitated a little, then, encouraged by the expert’s presentation, she asked, “What’s the difference between a clitoral orgasm and that of the G-spot?”

The expert smiled and said, “An orgasm achieved by the G-spot is much stronger and takes place over long, successive waves. Most women who try it regret that they hadn’t known about it earlier.”

Silence fell again; she asked if Chris had any other questions and Chris said she didn’t, so the expert sighed and said as she got up, “Great. Come and choose your new friend.”

The expert, followed by Chris, went through a small door to a side room and stood in front of a glass display case filled with different models of vibrators. The expert put her hand on Chris’s shoulder and asked in a friendly tone of voice, “May I ask how much you’re willing to spend on a vibrator? We have models ranging from ten dollars to two hundred dollars.”

“I can pay. It should be a good model though.”

“This makes my job easier.”

The expert bent and took out a gadget in the shape of a long, large penis with a bent part that looked like a tree branch jutting out on the side. On the bottom was a white round part that, Chris figured out, was the housing for the battery. Pointing to it proudly, the expert said, “This model is called the new and improved Impulse Jackrabbit; in my opinion, it is the best in the world. You’ll see how it takes you to heaven. It will cost you a hundred and fifty dollars plus twenty dollars for a box of cleaner. Is the price okay?”

Chris nodded. The expert explained the component parts of the vibrator and the way to use it, and then she took out a DVD and said, “Before using it, I advise that you watch this DVD. Is it going to be cash or charge?”

The expert swiped Chris’s card then gave her the receipt to sign. Then she wrapped the vibrator, the box, and the DVD carefully and put them in an elegant bag bearing the store’s logo. She handed it to her and said, “I wish you happiness with the Impulse Jackrabbit. You can call me any time if you have any questions. Consultation is free for a month. I’ll think I’ve done a successful job not only when you use the device, but also when you’ve got rid of the slightest embarrassment when you do it. Always remember that you’re exercising your right to sexual fulfillment. Please consider the vibrator like a shaver or hair dryer, just a device that makes our life easier and more beautiful.”

BUT CHRIS DIDN’T GET OVER her embarrassment easily. It wasn’t exactly embarrassment, but a sort of strange feeling. She took the train with the Impulse Jackrabbit resting in its elegant bag. At the beginning, she felt that the hand holding the bag was somehow separate from her body. Then she fell prey to the fear that the bag would fall to the floor or tear suddenly, revealing the vibrator, and all the passengers on the train would discover that the dignified lady in the dark green suit and dark glasses had bought a gizmo so that she could have fun with her vagina. Chris resisted the worries, assuring herself that the bag was sturdy and impossible to tear. She recalled what the expert had said and told herself: I am not doing anything shameful. My body belongs to me and I have a right to enjoy it in the manner that pleases me. It’s not fair that I should suffer deprivation just because Salah is unhappy with his life. I am not going to deny my desires or bury myself because after thirty years, he discovered that he did the wrong thing by immigrating to America. I have a right to enjoy sex as much as I want.

The logic of her thoughts was convincing but it did not reflect the whole truth. There was something missing that she knew but ignored. Her sexual problem was only the scab on her wound. There were profound sorrows burdening her heart. Salah was asking for a divorce? After all the years they’d lived together, he wanted to leave her? Just like that? Shake her hand and go? He wanted to turn into a person from the past, from memory, a picture in an album that she’d look at sometimes and return to the drawer? Why had he stopped loving her? Had he fallen in love with another woman? Had he lost interest in her because she was getting older? Had she, without knowing it, turned into a boring, talkative old woman? Had she neglected her appearance? Did Arab men always need younger women and was that why they had more than one wife? Had Salah kept an Oriental man’s mentality in spite of the years he’d spent in America? Or was the truth that he had never loved her? Had he deceived her all those years? Had he married her to get an American passport? To enhance his social status? To be the successful immigrant university professor married to an American woman? If that was true, why had he stayed with her all those years? Had he left her after getting his American citizenship, it would have been easier. She would’ve been able to forget, even forgive him. She was young then and could’ve started all over again. But now it was as if he had used her all those years then decided to throw her in the garbage. How could he bring himself to hurt her so much? Even if he didn’t love her. They had lived together a whole lifetime and he couldn’t undo that in just one moment. He had no right to do that. Those thoughts kept boring into her like bouts of chronic pain; her feelings of misery doubled her need for pleasure. She was instinctively driven to confine her consciousness to her body to escape the heavy burden of her sorrow.