On a breezy afternoon this summer, I found myself roaming around Copenhagen. Strolling from a bookshop to a café to a vintage clothing store, I suddenly saw an interesting sign: Church of Scientology Open House. I hesitated a bit. Scientology does not exactly have a positive connotation, often described as a mafia-like cult. But what harm would it do to take a look inside the building and talk a bit to the staff? I decided to enter, with a somewhat open mind.

I came into a futuristic reception with interactive information screens on strangely shaped and colored walls. Soon enough, a scientologist minister approached me. With puffed up hair, a creepy, shapeless black suit and what I interpreted to be a fake smile, she was an almost cartoonish confirmation of my stereotype. She poked me on the shoulder and asked if I needed anything. She introduced herself and quickly moved on to, “We have a personality test you can take if you want.”

Hesitating again, I thought my situation over. The test would take an hour and a half, but I had another four hours to spend. Again, I decided: Why not?

I was led from the spaceship-like reception to a dull, gray cubicle in an office backroom where a stack of papers was laid on the table in front of me. I was instructed to put my name and contact information on the top of the page. I reluctantly asked if I could leave out email, afraid of remaining on the Scientology mailing list for all eternity.

The test, interestingly named the Oxford Capacity Analysis — I emailed the Church of Scientology afterwards asking about the name’s origin and shockingly never received an answer — started out with an I.Q. test and afterwards continued into a personality test. Members of the church take this exact test repeatedly, including the I.Q. test, to track progress in their personal development. I thought, is this not just a prolonged Are You A Genius Facebook test? You know, the ones with 10 questions that you share after your third attempt when you finally achieve the top score.

The personality test asked questions ranging from, “Is your life a constant struggle for survival?” to, “Are you a slow eater?” to which the possible answers were yes, no and maybe.

Feeling slightly weirded out by the diversity in the questions, I finished the test and was given the final one, which would measure if I were fit to become a member of the church.

The final test featured questions with drawings of four seemingly random shapes followed by the question, Which shape do you like the most? and I was confused again. As I would find out in the end, however, the test revealed that I was a great fit for the Church of Scientology. I wonder how often people pick the wrong shape.

As I had finished all the tests, I was asked to stay in the cubicle and wait for the black suit to analyze my results. Two tourists had placed themselves in the cubicles next to me, giggling over the questions I had just endured.

After 20 minutes, I was led to the black suit’s office. A chart and a written description were on her desk, and she started to present the OCA analysis chart. According to the analysis, I was exceptionally withdrawn – it was my lowest score.

“Do you ever feel shy when you’re with other people?” she asked, to which I responded, “Yes, I do tend to feel shy in large gatherings of people — I don’t know.”

This type of shyness, which I’m sure everyone feels from time to time, constituted a serious problem that I would later be told that I should work on with a Scientology course. 15 hours of self-study required nothing but a computer and presence in the church as well as a fee of a few thousand dirhams, and would surely help me out.

To quote the standardized written analysis, “You are badly withdrawn. This could be as a result of the fact that you are either shy or you dislike people or both. Also the fact that you are so out of communication with people reveals there are certain things about yourself that you prefer others not to know and which you wish to hide.”

Similarly, “Insecurities about a partner may restrain [me] from expressing [my] feelings” today, according to my daily horoscope from www.horoscope.com. In fact, the analysis was filled with universalities like: you have difficulties handling your job from time to time, and your decisions are sometimes swayed by your emotions. I assume they fit a large majority of people, not just me. To me, the scary part of it all was the negativity, the preying upon those with insecurities and the organization cashing in as a result.

Better yet, “critical” was considered a negative personality trait. Having gone through several university admissions processes, critical thinking seemed very desirable. But not in the Church of Scientology.

The black suit offered me the 15-hour cure for shyness, but I had to admit to living abroad, thus being unable to visit the church regularly. She offered me a 300 AED book. “I’m sorry, I cannot afford this. I’m a student.”

I walked away from the Church of Scientology with a complimentary cup of coffee, my OCA test results and five free flyers.

A few weeks later, my mom came storming into my room, her eyes wide in an expression of agitation. She had found my test results. I had forgotten to tell her about my experience, and all she saw was a Scientology report claiming that every single aspect of her son’s personality needed improvement.

“Don’t worry, mom,” I told her, “I didn’t give them my email address.”