To cut a long story short. - 1

In the past few months – every time something of interest happened – I’d think to myself this is one story I have to share. But as time went by – I think I have forgotten a great many of them. Here's one that I do remember.

Veil Wail.

The morning after we landed – we wanted to go to the lobby for breakfast. Hubby and I got into an argument – if the abaya ‘had’ to be worn in the hotel. Hubby insisted that the hotel was one from an international chain and it would be preposterous for them to ask their customers to wear an abaya. A quick call to the reception confirmed my fears – international or not – an abaya was a must. So down we went – me tripping in my gown – and sonny trying to tug at the scarf that I managed to wrap around my head.

Turns out families must be seated in a ‘family section’ only. We went in to see a couple of other families eating. One table caught my attention. 2 women sat and ate by themselves. Not wanting to stare I threw surreptitious glances in their direction. The woman’s head was of course covered by a black head scarf. Not just that she had an additional piece of cloth that extended from one ear to another, over her nose. Effectively you cud just see her eyes. And seeing hubby – she managed to produce another cloth that she dropped over her head – so now – look ma – no eyes to be seen as well. How is she going to eat, I thought. She demonstrated. She pierced a piece of fruit in her fork, brought the fork down, took it under the cloth covering her face, which she lifted ever so slightly and managed to put it in her mouth. Every single bite went through this elaborate procedure. Man, I thought, I would give up eating, if I had to do this.

I looked at her hands - whatever little were visible. Well taken care of, manicured, with a bright red nail polish to boot. Pretty rings adorned her fingers and she ate with great care.

And I wondered - what kind of a woman would would take so much care of herself - and then cover it all up? The feminist in me was befuddled - of course you dress for yourself - and not for outsider appreciation - so then is she the ultimate feminist? But what kind of feminist would put herself through this rigmarole at every meal? Is int feminism about liberation?

I dont know - but the more I see of these women, the more I wonder.