“Why on Earth would you move to the Middle East?” was the reaction from my uncle when I told him about my plans for college and my acceptance to NYU Abu Dhabi. He then proceeded to blurt out a well-rehearsed stream of stereotypes and generalizations we’ve all heard about: how retrograde and sexist Islam is, telling me how the only possible outcome of me moving to Arabia was ending up as one of the many abused wives of some wealthy oil dealer.

I’ve been living in the Middle East for about two months now and  — silly stereotypes aside — I have had quite an interesting experience. The UAE in general, and particularly Abu Dhabi, are notably different from other societies with more pronounced conventions, not to mention extreme cases where gender equality is a long way down the road. Mexico itself is a traditionally patriarchal society that still struggles to abandon tradition for equality, and thus I found it appropriate to compare some of the aspects of my past life to my life here in Abu Dhabi.

The very first thing that I noticed even before I came to the UAE was the clothing. I read and re-read the guidelines in the Student Portal hoping to understand exactly what was expected of me. I was unsure about how short my shorts could be or even if tank tops were appropriate. Whenever I asked upperclassmen, I would get unhelpfully ambiguous answers such as “Oh … well … you know, you have to mix and match, you know? Like, don’t overdo things. You’ll figure it out.” Well, I did. And my wardrobe has remained pretty much the same, with the exception of a few items that are too revealing even for my school back home.

Even though I wear the same things here as I did back home, I have to be more selective in terms of the things I wear to school or around Sama, and the things I wear to go out into the streets. Even when fully covered in jeans and long sleeves (yes, I have done it; the heat is unbearable), being out in the street alone garners stares from practically everyone. I have learned to avoid adding shorts or sleeveless tops to that experience. I wish I could say that the attention doesn’t bother me, but it’s not desirable at all. In truth, it makes me feel pretty uncomfortable and self-conscious. In Mexico, I would get the occasional stare from a stranger when out in the streets, but staring back would immediately make him drop his stare. Here, it doesn’t work that way. People aren’t ashamed to just stare, and it is not precisely pleasant.

On that point, I try to always be with at least one of my male friends when I go out and, frankly, it makes me feel much safer. I believe it shouldn’t have to be that way. Then again, back in Mexico, or anywhere, really, it is probably better not to go out unaccompanied, and it should not have to be that way anywhere. Nonetheless, in any other country I’ve visited, I would denounce the women’s only section in the bus unnecessary, but here I am eternally grateful for it. I am still deciding whether that is good or bad.

In summary, Abu Dhabi is nowhere near the horrible place my uncle imagines. It’s a fantastic place. However, I have discovered that living here has made me feel more self-conscious of the fact that I am a woman when I do normal activities such as dressing or going out. Every country and culture is different, and they all need some work in the equality section. While that happens on a large scale, I think the most important thing is to make sure that at least our individual conceptions of the other gender are what they need to be: respectful.