Everything is beautiful.

If you choose to see it that way.

I was out walking my dog Tory (aka Tartoury) in the garden/courtyard area behind my apartment. It was a Friday, and about 60 degrees Fahrenheit, so there were several kids around, playing outside. Egyptian-style parenting is quite free-range, so I was not surprised when a group of boys, ages six to 10, began to approach me without an adult in sight.

One of the boys asked me something in Arabic. Assuming he asked if they could pet the dog, I nodded my head “yes”, at which point they all jumped back. Obviously, I had gotten it wrong. They must have asked if my dog would bite, so I immediately said, “No, no, no, he is nice, you can pet” and knelt to hold Tory still.

Hearing me speak English, one of the boys asked in English, “It is okay to pet? He doesn’t bite?” I assured them he would not bite. Lick - probably, slobber – definitely, make noises like a monkey – most likely, but definitely not bite. They were curious, I was cautious, and Tory was oblivious to the potential significance of the encounter.

It was possible, that for any one of them, this was their first up close and personal experience with a dog.

From what I’ve been told, Muslims traditionally don’t care for dogs. In simple terms, as it was explained to me, dogs are thought to be dirty, and anything dirty is ungodly. So dogs should be avoided.

Fortunately, the community where I live is very Westernized, and dogs are welcome. There are so many pet dogs here, barking has become white noise. But even with all the dogs, there’s only about seven of us who actually walk our dogs on a leash. The rest of the dogs are behind fences.

So I was pleased that the boys were interested in Tory, and Tory was happy to get the attention. They were excitedly talking to each other in Arabic, when the boy who originally spoke, looked at me and stated “Beautiful.” After a couple more sentences in Arabic, he repeated it several times, “Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.”

I wasn’t sure what he thought was beautiful. Was it the dog, or the day, or me, or the moment? I was amused - because if you’ve ever taken a tour of Egypt, you know that from Alexandria to the Aswan dam, you can count on being called beautiful by an Egyptian male at least once…a day. “They’re either starting them really young,” I thought, “or this means something else.” I decided to find out.

I have a support system here that explains to me all things Egyptian, and basically keeps me out of trouble. I asked, “No offense, but is ‘beautiful’ a word that Egyptian boys learn at a very young age, or what’s the deal?”

Here’s the explanation I got:

“Beautiful” depends on the context. It doesn’t necessarily mean that something is very appealing or attractive. Anything can be beautiful. The cheap, plastic clock that hangs on the wall is beautiful because it works accurately, and you want to know what time it is. That guy’s dust-covered truck with the missing bumper is beautiful because it helps him make a living. This community is beautiful because it’s safe, well-maintained, and everything is within walking distance.

The beauty is in the perceived value.

This very much reminded me of something I started doing about 18 months ago. That is — practicing gratitude. Google it. Do it. It’s a life-changer.

I’m still unsure what the boy meant that day, but I’m grateful that I learned more about our cultural differences, and even more appreciative that it happened with the help of a dog.

Now that’s beautiful.