Aboard on the Etihad Airlines plane on my way to Pakistan via Abu Dhabi, a middle aged woman, small built is sitting next to me. I
attempt talking to her, apparently she doesn’t speak English. We just smile at each other. She occasionally
hollers something in a language I don’t recognize to somebody two rows ahead. I
decipher over time that her daughter with her two grandsons are the people
sitting by the family row. She is extremely anxious and half of her body is
leaning toward my seat so that she can see some of what is going on in the
front row with the rest of her family. Occasionally, the daughter brings the
baby to her mother to go to the bathroom. The after-dinner hot drink service
makes my heart leap since the baby is so close to her table. I clear my table
and open space for the grandmother to put her tea on a surface away from the
baby.
After lunch, I check the situation as I pretend walking in
the aisle to see if something can be done to bring the family together. The
daughter has two seats, one for herself and one for her toddler, and she has
the basinet for the baby. I am willing to move to the front row so she can be
with her mother. But she is right, one extra seat is not going to give them what
they need. All I can do is to ask her
whether she would like to ask the other two passengers in my row to consider
moving to the front. She is apprehensive, but after about 2 hours of either the
mother or the daughter going back and forth between my row and hers, she does
ask them whether they could do her this favor. And they do accept it, Valla! We are
all happy now.
Close-up view of the entrance of Badshahi Mosque in Lahore
My neighbors for the rest of the trip are this
three-generational family, I learn later, from Nepal-Katmandu. They live in Chicago and the
young woman works at Target. Most likely, her mother is taking care of her
children. I don’t dare asking about the father of the children. She volunteers
that they are going to Katmandu for a 2.5 month-long visit. Her eyes grow big when I
tell her I am going to Lahore over five days to stay there only for two full
days. With her “wooow”, I recall my good friend from the university, who
travels between East Asia and the US all the time over 4-5 day trips. I hope the
next time, I will have more time to visit Pakistan a bit better, this time
during thanksgiving season, this is all I could do.
I must say my fellow travelers turn out to be a very sweet
family; the kids are well behaved and very relaxed. After the lights are turned
off, they will sleep through the flight. Certainly, there will be lots of trips
to the bathroom or to their carry-on to get diapers or snacks. Nobody cries, no
temper tantrums, I will greatly appreciate. I will also enjoy observing with
the corner of my eye the loving care both the grandmother and the mother
provide to both kids throughout the flight… The ability to love and show love
is classless, what we all need from birth to death is at least one supportive, nurturing,
caring relationship; the more the better certainly. As one of my colleagues specializing on trauma would say
“It is all about relationships…”
Longest non-stop flight I have ever had, 13 hours from
Chicago to Abu Dhabi. With a departure at noon, it is a long sleepless flight.
I am flying Etihad, which turns out to be an Emirate airline not Pakistani.
Considering only 30% of the population in Emirates is Arabs and the rest
expatriates, I am not surprised with all the food that is served on the plane
being mixed with curry. Although I like to try different curry foods occasionally,
three meals of curry in a span of 13 hours; I am already curried out by the
time we land! And I have four more days ahead of me. However, I know that
Pakistani cuisine is not only about curry. I am sure I will find plenty good
food to eat. In fact, I will learn over my two days in Lahore, none of their
food is curry heavy if at all. They use totally different spices, some hot,
some not, all the same everything will be delicious.
When we arrive in Abu Dhabi, it is already noon. As we walk
along the hallway leading to transit gates, the walls are covered with the emir’s
photographs on a variety of tasks in his traditional Arab attire. Signs that
have started hitting me on the plane are getting more intense. When did I start feeling this aversion toward
Arabic cultures and specifically Islam? Very early on, I knew there was a
difference between devout Muslims and my secular family in Turkey. At the time,
it was a matter of education, most devout Muslims came from countryside and low
socioeconomic status. We believed with better education, they would modernize
their belief system and appreciate secularism.
Unfortunately, the opposite occurred. Post world war II
powers eliminated the “Village Institutes” project, which for several decades
enlightened the countryside and improved their economy. Once that project was
decimated, the rural Turkey returned into its own devices and in 1980s
parochial Islamic schools started mushrooming in the country with state
support. The rest is history, Turkey and its peoples unfortunately have been
exponentially Islamized since the end of the last century. Those were my coming
of age years. I observed the rapid transformation of the society before my
eyes. I witnessed the division of the society as good Muslims and infidel seculars.
Signs took over, they looked at us as if we secular modern
women were prostitutes: A man at the Abu Dhabi airport with a long beard, no
mustache looking at me as I am walking toward the gate just the way some
fundamentalists did all those years in Turkey triggers the same discomfort. His
piercing eyes convey an element of disdain, it can’t be “desire”, which they
claim women trigger in them: I have the least attractive attire consisting of
long baggy comfortable hiking pants, two layers of long sleeve shirt/turtle
neck top; nothing but my face and hands exposed in addition to my white hair!
Why does he look at me from head to toe as if he hates me? Does he? Or is there something different ,I don’t know what,
in those eyes? Is my judgment not-knowing based ? Why did those in Turkey hate
me and my friends all those years? All based on external signs…
Were we innocent? No, we hated them back. Unfortunately, the women in black burkas were so off-putting for us, we called them “ants”, not aunts, truly “ants”. Could we have done better and communicated with them? How could we do that when their men hovered over them at all times and they were not allowed to have a voice of their own? It wasn’t until the “headscarf” as the burka is known in Turkey became a political symbol that women covering their head joined the life outside their homes. How could I have overlooked how Islam pushed women to secondary citizen level? Even as a modern woman raised and educated with the best means in the country, did I not suffer the difficulties of how Islam shaped Turkish culture as a patriarchal one in which women always had to fight for their rights?
Thich Nhat Hanh teaches that we must embrace signlessness
referring to not getting stuck in others’ behaviors, attire, status, actions,
choices, etc. Recognizing the goodness in every individual and connecting with
that core…It is much easier to do when one has a smile on their face, or even a
neutral expression, or even sadness, not so much when you see sparkling hatred,
othering or disdain… But that’s what the teaching is, especially with those
with the worst expressions and actions, one needs to try to see their inner
beauty. How is that going to happen in this totally patriarchal society, when
men and women are not allowed to have eye contact in public space, when I have
a modern outlook as a woman… We’ll see, I will keep an open eye and mind…
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March 8, 2017 press release condemning United Arab Emirates for their terrible violations of human and women's rights including incarceration of women for months with no contact with their family members or attorney... |
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