Minkgirl Muses

BURKAS

One of my big plans this winter was that I would use the blog as my primary form of creative self-expression during the “transition phase” from San Francisco to London. I set it up with my friend Britt in October and eagerly waited until the mountain of moving tasks was completed so I could get back to it. Unfortunately, I can’t seem to get reliable internet at my flat (more later on the British Telecom saga and how my 4-week struggle with them may actually be bringing me closer to enlightenment.) Nonetheless, I feel an urge today to “spress myself” as my friend’s 4 year-old niece would say. And so I have come to an internet cafe to kick-start this blogging business for myself and to share some tidbits with anyone who'sinterested in hearing how things are going here in London for me and my crew.

Sometime last week, I recognized a rather subtle shift in my outlook. I now feel like I live here. I rode the bus through the streets of Chiswick this morning – from Gabriel’s preschool to the internet café where I am now – and the route, the landscape, the shops all look familiar now instead of new or foreign. And that is how it happens, quite mysteriously one day you wake up and this is where you are, and you are no longer longing for where you were, or imagining that things might be different. You are content or at least aware of being present in the moment at hand. Previously, I have been obsessed with marking time – we’ve been here 4 weeks, 6 weeks, 8 weeks – and analyzing how we’re adjusting and if we’re on target (whatever that is) - if we are acing our transition. Will I ever shake this get-a-A-on-the-test mentality? But I lost track of time last week – literally. There were a few days when I didn’t know what day it was or I was at least fuzzy on the date.

Yet, at the same time that I’ve been letting go a bit of the bigger picture, I’ve been focusing a lot of energy on creating routines and rituals in our home. I have NEVER liked routines. I find waking and sleeping and eating at the same time everyday deathly dull and boring. Despite all the sage advice offered by older and wiser friends and every parenting manual in existence that this is exactly the kind of structure young children need, David and I have continued to fudge it, hoping that if we were more spontaneous in our domestic life, we might wind up raising a spontaneous child. This has not been the case. Gabriel, as it turns out, is not flexible at all. My friend Kara has two children who seem ready to roll with the punches through global travel and other adventures. But not our schmubba. He is at his best and most beautiful when we keep things the same. And finally, because I have no good reason not to, I am surrendering to this – to the fact that our family life is smoother, more pleasant and more satisfying when it is bounded by a sense of routine and regularity (spiced of course with occasional surprises.)

It turns out that what this routine yields me is a surprising amount of mental freedom. I no longer have to spend a lot of brain time on figuring out what we will eat (Monday is soup or stew, Wednesday is a roast, Friday is fish for Shabbat, Sunday is Pizza Night and the other days we eat leftovers – no kidding, I’ve got it that organized,) or how we will spend our time (preschool dictates our daily schedule during the week). And so, quite surprisingly, I’ve started actually having the space in my head to think about other things – like why women wear burqs and whether or not my grandfather like the work he did and why Americans as happy with their lives as Europeans seem to be.

This morning on the bus, I saw a woman who was wearing a full burqa – head to toe enveloping black cloth with a very narrow slit for the eyes. She was even wearing black silk gloves, so not even an inch of her skin was visible. This is something I have never seen in San Francisco – even though it is a cosmopolitan city – the Muslim community is either more liberal or the ultra conservative folks don’t choose to live in the city. But here in London, there are huge pockets of immigrants from nearly every country where Islam is the core religion. This woman happened to be carrying a backpack and her shape was large enough to suggest bulk under the burqa – either fat or pregnancy or … I confess, I had a moment of panic where I wondered if she was carrying a bomb. She seemed so incongruous on a commuter bus full of people in modern business dress, and the backpack… a curious choice of bag for her. I briefly wondered if I should get off the bus. But then, I realized that I mostly found her figure threatening because she was so masked – it was impossible to tell anything about her – her age, what she looked like, whether she was smiling or frowning, anything. She was a cryptic black figure – indecipherable and indistinguishable. And after a moment of contemplating this, I got really angry. I believe in freedom of expression. I appreciate that a woman’s choice to wear a headscarf or shave her head for her religion can be a meaningful act of faith – a giving of her beauty to God. But this complete entombment, this erasure of all a woman’s distinctive traits – how can this be perceived as anything except a kind of death? An expression of the absolute power of her male relatives over her very existence. I found myself wanting to connect with this woman somehow. I considered talking to her, but realized that she might not want to talk to me or might find the attempt threatening. Furthermore, there was a strong chance she didn’t speak English. So, I did nothing. At the next stop she got off, a swirl of black, and was gone. What is to be done? Does she agree with this? Do her sisters and her mother and her daughters? Is there any way to know?

Here is what wikipedia has to say about the definition of “burqa”:

A burqa (also burkha, burka or burqua) is an all-enveloping outer garment worn by most Muslim women in Afghanistan, and many in India and Pakistan. It is worn over the usual daily clothing (often a long dress or a salwar kameez) and removed when the woman returns to the sanctuary of the household.

Before the Taliban took power in Afghanistan, it was little worn in cities. During the Taliban's reign, women were required to wear a burqa whenever they appeared in public. Officially it is not required under the present Afghan regime, but local warlords still usually enforce it everywhere outside Kabul.^{[citation needed]} In current unsettled conditions, women who might not otherwise wear the burqa must do so as matter of personal safety.

The full or Afghan burqa covers the wearer's entire face except for a small region about the eyes, which is covered by a concealing net or grille. Pakistani and Indian burkas may expose the face or eyes. It is usually sewn from light materials, and requires many yards/meters of material. Blue is a favourite colour for burqas. The cap from which the material hangs may be decorated with embroidery.

Many Muslims believe that the Islamic scripture, the Qur'an, and the collected traditions, or hadith, require a woman to dress and behave modestly in public. However, this requirement, called hijab, has been interpreted in many different ways by Islamic scholars (ulema) and Muslim communities (see Women in Muslim societies).

The burqa is a prominent symbol of the presence of Islam in Europe, although very few women wear it. It has become a controversial political issue, and some intellectuals and political groups advocate prohibition, for various reasons.

The government of the Netherlands is the first to plan a legal ban on face-covering Islamic clothing, popularly described as the 'burqa ban', although it does not only apply to the Afghan-type burqa. Immigration and Integration minister Rita Verdonk announced the legislation in November 2006. ^[1] In the November 2006 general election, the Party for Freedom won 9 seats: it advocates prohibition of the burqa. In response, a group of Muslim women organised a unique (for Europe) pro-burqa demonstration at the newly elected Dutch parliament in The Hague. ^[2]

Islamic dress for women that covers the face has also been controversial in Britain. A British Cabinet minister, MP Jack Straw, asked Muslim women from his constituency to remove any veils covering their faces during face-to-face meetings with him. He explained to the media that this was a request, not a demand, and that he made sure that a woman staffer remained in the room during the meeting. A media furor followed. Some Muslim groups said that they understood his concerns, and others rejected them as prejudicial to Muslims. [3] It is not clear that any of the affected Muslim constituents were wearing burqas. The Arabian face veil, or niqab, is more common among British Muslims.

That’s all the musing for today. Thanks for reading.

Be well.

Labels: Community Muses