Swimming in a Sea of Blue

Walk down any street in M-ville and you are likely to see a billow of blue fabric in front of you.  We have quickly become accustomed to it, but at first, it makes one take a second glance.  M-ville is much more conservative than Lal (our previous location) and every local woman here wears the full blue burka when out in public.  So the bazaars (especially on a Friday afternoon – Lady’s Shopping Day) are a mass of blue fabric moving down the street from one shop to another.  It depends on the time of day, whether there are men in the street, etc, but occasionally you will see these women resting the front of the covering on the top of their heads so that their faces show.  Other times, they have it pulled down and the only way they see is through the small screen (about the size of a playing card) that is cut out of the front.

A few days ago I found myself at the back of a fabric shop slipping a burka over my head.  I remember as the fabric fell over my face thinking, “I can’t believe I am really doing this.”  But it seems like that has become the story of my life, so I continued on with the shopping experience – asking A (with my back turned to him and the street and the shopkeeper) if he thought it fit well. It was so awkward that I wasn’t quite ready to turn around and have my husband see me in such a state.  Let’s be honest, neither of us had any idea how they fit, but we tried to sound like we knew what we were talking about. . Outside the shop, quite a crowd of young men had gathered and stood around to watch the foreigner pretend like she knew what she was doing. In the end, we both sort of chickened out and decided that we would consult other foreign women we work with before buying one.  So we left the shop without the blue tent.

I know, I know what you are thinking…and just a few days ago, I was in the same boat, “why stoop so low as to wear that thing, especially if you are working for rights and peace and stability for the women of this country…isn’t donning the burka yourself counter-productive to that work???”

As with most issues in this crazy country, this one becomes more complex the longer your wrestle with it.  It is easy for we as outsiders to quickly judge what we think the solution to things like this are.  From the outside, it looks like every woman in a burka is oppressed and has no say in the matter. It may look like she is trapped in that very small blue prison. For some women, this is certainly the case – they feel trapped inside this gigantic piece of cloth. Usually they are mired down by a lot more in life and the burka just happens to be the icing on the cake. 

Like many things in this crazy country, you have to find the silver lining amongst a very large sky of dark clouds. While it seems obvious to assume that the burka is confining and restricting, to some, very possibly to many, the burka means freedom.  It is their outlet, their saving grace in a stifling world run by men and ruled by shame and gossip.  I haven’t been here long enough to say with 100% certainty, but it seems like a women who has reached puberty, or has gotten married (sadly those are usually similar ages in this place) doesn’t dare be caught out in public without the burka.  Where is the silver lining you ask?  In the fact that the streets (especially on Friday afternoon) are full of women. That they are able to go out and shop, visit friends and relatives, set foot outside the confines of their mud houses and small dusty yards.  For the women who work for us, it means they are able to come to work and earn a living. Refusing to wear the covering would leave them stranded at home, quite possibly by the order of their husband. If he didn’t care enough to not let them out without their burka, the shame that would come upon their family and the gossip that would spread like wildfire, is certainly enough to cause these educated, well trained and highly intelligent women to wear it.  It also gives them the ability to travel to villages and do their work.  There is no way it would be safe for them to travel without it, and even if they did, they would have no credibility in the village if they showed up without it.  See, it is all about outward appearances here, my friend.  If a man saw a woman without it on…or even heard about it, she is automatically deemed a ‘loose’ woman with no shame, no values, etc.  So, to have any effect in their work, the female staff must wear it. Basically if a woman wants to survive in this society at all, she wears it. 

So again back to the question; “why be stuck in that thing?” In this culture and society at this stage of history, survival is of utmost importance. For some it means being able to leave the house to gain a living for their family. For others, it means being able to study. Like I said earlier, women are able to go visit family and friends, shop, go out in public, etc. Our bra-burning, entitled and emancipated society feels like something must be one about this on a grand scale and to some extent it would be nice if it could happen that way.  But it won’t. Baby steps are vital in this situation. A bunch of women deciding overnight to burn their burkas would only lead to mass chaos and not in a good way.  Hearts and minds must change before attitudes and actions.  So for now, we deal with the reality of life here.  Women wear burkas…and are able to go shopping, visiting and to work because of it.

I am thankful in some ways that I am an oddity in this culture.  It is not required of me at this time to wear the burka. I can get away with wearing the long black cloak that is seen in much of the arab world and I cover my head with a scarf. So why did I look at burkas last week? And why did I return to purchase on a few days ago?  Because I too want freedom in this place.  I can go shopping, but it always comes with stares, comments and usually more pressure than I would like.  If I am with Andy it is fine, we get stared at, but I am with a man, so it isn’t as intense.  If I am only with another woman or a group of women, we tend to draw a crowd wherever we go.  So, with the burka (and without my red haired, blue eyed child) I would fit in a lot more. More importantly, I got it for security. If security would happen to deteriorate (which we are hoping doesn’t happen, obviously, and don’t think it will in the near future) and we had to quickly ‘get out of Dodge’ it would be much safer to travel with the burka on than without.  So, basically I got it to have, just in case.

I returned with a friend a few days later to pick out my blue tent…or rather have it be picked out for me.  We went to a shop with a room in the back where you try them on.  Ironically the blue light in the room made it extremely hard for your eyes to adjust as it bounced off four walls of blue burkas.  Thankfully, a young guy (about 17) who works in the shop has the gift of knowing exactly which burka will fit his customer. He pulled a few down as suggestions and I found the one that was the most comfortable for me. The (very fashionably dressed) shopkeeper boy gave me a lesson on how to put on and take off the burka – by demonstrating himself. After thanking him and paying, we were out of there.

So, here I sit, drinking coffee in my toasty little living room wearing sweats and a sweatshirt writing about burkas and thinking about the future.  Do I have a dream that one day all of the women from this land will be able to throw it off and run with their wind in their hair through these dusty streets?  Yes and no.  Yes, because I think from my perspective and cultural background that that is the ultimate sign freedom. But no, because it will take a million years and a million miracles for that to be seen as a positive thing for the women of this land, even by those women themselves. It’s about baby steps, remember? Here, freedom is about being able to read and write, about having a say in when and whom you marry, about being trusted with money and responsibility within your family.  Freedom is reflected in women who aren’t enslaved to having a child every year because they learn to know their bodies. Freedom comes with learning how to break the cycle of maternal and infant death through hygiene and safe birthing practices.  Freedom is seen in a healthy family and the absence of domestic violence.  Freedom brings hope and healing to hearts and minds through the Father’s saving grace. It has nothing to do with wearing a piece of cloth or burning it in defiance. Because truly “man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.”