War of the Worlds (why can’t we just all get along?)

Little girls in Morocco, Saudi Arabia, Syria or Egypt don’t play with Barbie dolls anymore – writes “New York Times”. They used to, but somebody, somewhere decided that Barbie dolls are too “western” with their clothes a la Hilton sisters, covering less than 5 percent of their rubber bodies and Christian values written all over their tiny plastic faces. Little Muslim girls wanted to play with Barbie dolls – but their religious parents wouldn’t let them. So one day somebody thought of a Muslim-Barbie doll. Of course, she’s got dark brown eyes and black hair. She looks just like her Western sister, only shares “Muslim values” with little girls’ parents. All Barbie dolls disappeared from the shelves of toy stores in the Middle East – instead, they are filled with brown-eyed Fullas. Fulla’s got the same size, shape and proportions, but wears a modest outdoor black abaya with matching hijab, or a white scarf and long coat. Of course she’s got beautiful, shiny wardrobe (sold separately), but for the public’s curious eyes, she’s coated and scarfed. The company that sells her also sells accessories – Fulla’s got her own praying rug, and a special cotton scarf, all in a trademark “fulla pink”.

So – dare I say it – could it be that after all, all little girls, Muslim, Christian, Hindu or Tutu, are the same all over the world? That we live in a global village, which is homogenized, pop-cultured and all the same in the core, but nobody seems to admit it? What’s the difference between me, wanting to play with a Barbie doll in the eighties, wanting to go to America and fulfilling my big American dream, and those little girls, who pray at the sunrise along with their Fulla dolls wearing the same exact pink as her older sister, Barbie, and dreaming of going to America someday, and being a teacher or a doctor?
Could it be a metaphor of the whole holy war that is going on between West and East? Is it possible that we are so similar we can’s stand it anymore, so we need to tell ourselves we are different? Who, when, and why told us that? Why Barbie doll and Fulla can’t just get along, have tea together and do some old-fashioned gossiping? They wear the same pink – they could exchange wardrobe and flirt with the same Ken (or Ahmed, for that matter). They could say their separate prayers and then meet somewhere and talk about whatever little and big girls usually talk about.
Or maybe I’m just being naïve.