United Nations has great presence with a multitude of its
agencies in countries like Pakistan, Guatemala, Colombia among others. I learn
during the conference that UNICEF Pakistan has sponsored the conference
significantly. I will also discover that
my lecture on multidisciplinary/ interagency response to child abuse and neglect
is aligned with a major project that UNICEF is carrying out in five states, all
of which are building their own child protection system. I
am delighted to see that there may be an opportunity for collaboration in
Pakistan for systems development in the child protection arena, which is my expertise.
Apparently the launch of national campaign against child abuse in Pakistan started in 2005...
Roji from Nepal, Shanti from India, and Resmiye from Turkey/USA in the court of Shah Bruj Mosque
A Burmese Buddhist Monk demonstrating against Rohangya muslims: Where did he lose "love all sentient beings" teaching of his?
Street markets look like this around Lahore
Highway between Lahore and the Indian border
Indian Pakistani border closes at 3:30 pm for the day, for your information
This is the sun mid-afternoon in Lahore, behind the air pollution-fog
Shah Burj Mosque is indeed an architectural world heritage product of Pakistani history
Local young girls and women ask us to pose with them for a picture, dusk allows my hair glow!
One of the towers of the Shah Burj Mosque courtyard is beautiful at dusk with first lights going on
I feel very tired, this chaotic and overburdened traffic, the rushing crowd all around me even at this touristic site has become too much of turmoil even for me. In fact as the years go by, this city girl, who lived the first 38 years of her life in a modern city with some 5 million population is getting dizzied, even in Izmir nowadays. Lahore is said to have somewhere between 16 to 20 million population. Who knows how many cars, how many rickshaws, how many motorcycles. Even at 3 am in the morning on my last day as we will glide toward the airport, I will observe the roads not being that dormant. Nowhere near the heavy traffic of the peak hours, but the horn conversation, which is typical in all developing countries is necessary from time to time even at 3 am: Short blow – “Get out of my way”, Slight touch of the horn – “Beware, I am passing you”, Long blow – “You idiot, don’t you see I am on this lane” and many more…
The shuttle driver of my last hours in Lahore was almost like this man in his way of treating me
By the time I entered the airport, I had forgotten the not so well-mannered shuttle driver
Thank you in Urdu
A glimpse to an Independence Day Festival in Pakistan
At least at this point, I can tell, I won’t avoid it anymore and Pakistan is still a very good place for me to attempt coming to peace with Islam with the help and support of its loving, hospitable people, much less oppression on women’s freedoms compared to some of the Arabian peninsula nations, and permissiveness toward international work. I will keep an open mind and heart, be compassionate toward myself first and fore most and reflect the same to all those I come in contact with as they are receptive to it… Those who are not, I will respect their space and let them be until the time comes they may move beyond their vulnerabilities to touch the goodness in themselves. Good bye Pakistan and Lahore, will see you soon.
Apparently the launch of national campaign against child abuse in Pakistan started in 2005...
One of the most impressive lectures during the conference is
on gender based discrimination in South Asia given by a lively and very modern Indian woman. The statistics and facts are
appalling: How ultrasound availability created a hidden genocide against female
fetuses; even when governments banned gender identification via ultrasound,
technicians found a way to it: If it is a male fetus, the family gets candy,
message received via unspoken communication!!! The oppressive nature of religious
practices as well as of cultures; local, regional and national.
This is what happens in South Asia, when ultrasound is abused by USG providers and consumers alike to selectively abort female infants
When I ask whether colonialism had any impact on gender discrimination, the can of worms explodes: Shanti, a phenomenal Indian-Australian pediatrician tells us that colonial rule did in fact exacerbate what was already there in the old traditions of India and other nations. Thus, the very severe discrimination against women in South Asia in fact is partly the product of active efforts of British colonialists, who encouraged if not worsened the then-present discrimination! I gasp although what is shared is exactly what I was expecting. How can one feel compassion toward colonialists when they did everything they could to divide and conquer at every level, man against women, brother against sister, rural against urban, haves and have nots in the society… One good thing I learn from her and others at the conference is that Planned Parenthood has nothing to do with selective abortion of female infants in South Asia as the conservative right markets in the USA to smear Planned Parenthood.
When I ask whether colonialism had any impact on gender discrimination, the can of worms explodes: Shanti, a phenomenal Indian-Australian pediatrician tells us that colonial rule did in fact exacerbate what was already there in the old traditions of India and other nations. Thus, the very severe discrimination against women in South Asia in fact is partly the product of active efforts of British colonialists, who encouraged if not worsened the then-present discrimination! I gasp although what is shared is exactly what I was expecting. How can one feel compassion toward colonialists when they did everything they could to divide and conquer at every level, man against women, brother against sister, rural against urban, haves and have nots in the society… One good thing I learn from her and others at the conference is that Planned Parenthood has nothing to do with selective abortion of female infants in South Asia as the conservative right markets in the USA to smear Planned Parenthood.
Another lovely person I meet at the conference is Roji, a
doctor of child rights, from Nepal. When will the US feel the shame of being
one of only two countries that haven’t ratified the UN convention on the rights
of child. Even Nepal has doctors of child rights and working toward realizing
the convention on the rights of child in their country when the richest country on earth is unable to provide
universal health care coverage to its children! Roji is working with multiple
NGOs to make sure child rights are practiced in every respect, in his country. I
try to learn a bit from him about Buddhism and how it is practiced in Nepal.
The most elegant Indian woman I ever met, Shanti, against Shah Bruj mosque before we walk into it
However, he is a secular citizen and doesn’t know much about Buddhism! Or does he not want to tell me much about it, since I have a sense, Buddhism is taught in the West more as a philosophy with its psychological and spiritual tools. In Asia, on the other hand, it is quite possible that the four noble truths may not be practiced as the founders of the religion might have foreseen. How in the world there would be such animosity between Muslims and Buddhists or Buddhists and Hindus all over Asia, otherwise. How can those militant Buddhist monks claim they helped Thervada Buddhism survive for 2300 years, when they do not practice one of the truths that Buddha taught: You will not kill! Stay away from organized religion is still my motto...
However, he is a secular citizen and doesn’t know much about Buddhism! Or does he not want to tell me much about it, since I have a sense, Buddhism is taught in the West more as a philosophy with its psychological and spiritual tools. In Asia, on the other hand, it is quite possible that the four noble truths may not be practiced as the founders of the religion might have foreseen. How in the world there would be such animosity between Muslims and Buddhists or Buddhists and Hindus all over Asia, otherwise. How can those militant Buddhist monks claim they helped Thervada Buddhism survive for 2300 years, when they do not practice one of the truths that Buddha taught: You will not kill! Stay away from organized religion is still my motto...
Later on Shanti, who is a Hindu herself will help me
understand these concepts a bit better as we travel from Lahore to the Indian
border to drop off Roji on his way to Katmandu. I never knew that Hinduism was
a religion in its own right as early as 3rd or 4th
century BC! Due to chaos in the society Buddha developed Buddhism much later on
and focused more on the humanistic side of the religion. She practices her own religion Hinduism and sees Buddhism
more as a philosophy to enlighten human beings
rather than a religion. Unfortunately, we do not have enough time to discuss my
burning question about how these religions functioned in the context of cast
system and class based organization of Asian societies. Next time perhaps…
Roji, Shanti and I come together over an afternoon in the
car of a pharmaceutical representative, whose company is one of the sponsors of
the conference. Moaz, another humanitarian Pakistani worker, very closely
associated with UNICEF insists that Shanti and I must have an afternoon around
Lahore and see its beauty overcast by the crowd and new developments in the
city. We are interested and both grasp the invitation. Roji, on the other hand
needs a ride to the border to catch a bus or train to go to Delhi from where he
will catch his flight to Katmandu tomorrow. Our organizers pack us into the same car and
we start heading toward the border, Roji, in the front with the driver, Shanti and I in the back seat, we are delighted to catch up on everything we are curious about each other's culture and beings.
It turns out to be a very interesting afternoon for me, with
delightful conversations with Shanti, learning all about the history between
Pakistan and India, how British again divided India one more time at the last
breath of its colonial powers, understanding Hinduism and Buddhism a bit
better, getting closer to her admiring her intelligence, her warm heart, and
strength as a woman, although she is as much the product of a patriarchal society as I am.
A woman taking care of her cattle along the highway to the border
I had always thought my family was an exception with their devotion to my education first and foremost, when overwhelming majority of female children in Turkey had to suffice with crumbles of resources left over after their brothers used what they needed. But Shanti and many other strong women I have had the privilege of meeting through my international work are testament that there are many more families than we realize that recognize the importance of investing on their daughters at least as much as their sons if not more. I am grateful to all such wise families all around the world.
I had always thought my family was an exception with their devotion to my education first and foremost, when overwhelming majority of female children in Turkey had to suffice with crumbles of resources left over after their brothers used what they needed. But Shanti and many other strong women I have had the privilege of meeting through my international work are testament that there are many more families than we realize that recognize the importance of investing on their daughters at least as much as their sons if not more. I am grateful to all such wise families all around the world.
Unfortunately, the 20 kilomenters to the border from Lahore
takes us much longer than expected and poor Roji cannot make it through the
border finding the door shut against his face; border crossing as allowed for
only those who arrive at the border by 3:30 pm. The major bonus for me is to
observe how animal and human life is intertwined in an impermeable manner in
rural Pakistan: Buffalo, cows, and oxen are strolling on the roads, chickens
and dogs are free range all over the place dancing among the cars just like
pedestrians and bikers are…
When we get back in the car, we learn that Roji’s flight
from Delhi departs at 10:30 am the next day. My gut feeling tells me we need to
get back to the hotel immediately so that he can make arrangements. It seems
like for a while, I am more anxious than Roji and others in the car. However,
for some reason, the decision is made to go to the old Royal Fort and the Shah Burj
or Badshahi Mosque located in the middle of Lahore, first. The royal fort apparently was built around 1566 by the Mughal emperor Akbar the Great, the mosque on the other hand in 1632.
Greater Iqbal park that leads to the Royal Fort walls
The Royal Fort is rectangular with the main gates located alongside the centre of the western and eastern walls. Every succeeding Mughal Emperor, Sikhs, and the British all, added a pavilion, palace or wall to the Fort. The Famous Sheesh Mahal or Palace of Mirrors is in the north-east corner of the Fort, which we couldn't see due time constraint. This is reportedly the most beautiful palace in the Fort and is decorated with small mirrors of different colors.
Our tour of the Royal Fort and its additions begins.
We walk along the walls, enter through the main gate and are finally at the steps of the gate to the Shah Bruj Mosque's court. Just before passing through the gate to the courtyard, a young girl stops me and murmurs something I can’t quite decode. After several attempts, I figure out that she wants me to cover my legs! I am wearing a dress down to my knees, but my calves and shins are covered only by my transparent stockings. No wonder as we were strolling through the fort, some of the men were looking at my legs. Shanti and I had chuckled over my sinful legs: First time in my life my legs turn into representation of evil…
Note the flock of birds on top of this massive not well-kept gate
My top is covered with a large shawl, closest apparel I had in my luggage that makes me resemble Pakistani women, just a bit. This young lady tells me I need to cover my legs. I do? With what? She has the answer: she reaches into her bag and pulls out a semi-transparent shawl, which becomes my waist-down sari on the spot! Everybody is happy now, origin of sin has been covered, no mention now I look like a clown from a different planet… We quickly tour the museum sections of the mosque, where all kinds of textile paraphernalia that is claimed to have belonged to Prophet Mohammed is on display. For sure there is some hair on display, too. Why am I not surprised, every major mosque or Islamic architecture I have visited all over the world had a “hair display” of this sort.
The gate to the Shah Burj Mosque courtyard
I can’t help wondering whether every Muslim community had had somebody who had access to the Prophet’s face to pluck couple of strands of hair for royal palaces… I silently chuckle at my cynicism; will it ever go away around issues that seem to be strategized to manipulate people’s minds and belief systems? I don’t know…
Beautiful ornamentation of the gateway to the courtyard of Shah Burj Mosque
In fact there are two things that nulls a man’s praying: A dog or a woman walking across his praying mat! Never heard a woman’s prayer becoming null if a man walks across her mat. Why don’t Muslim women ever ask “Why didn’t prophet teach the men keep their hearts and minds pure rather than confining women into all kinds of symbolic prisons so that men could remain pure” Why is this responsibility on women’s shoulders to keep both themselves pure as well as all the men in the society?
Looking toward the palaces of the royal fort from one of the museum sections of the Mosque
Why do those men have the right looking at my legs in disdain and I feel guilty instead of having the courage to ask them "Why are you looking at my legs?" Not quite culturally competent thoughts, but that's what happens to a woman when she grows up in a culture where religion controls a lot in a woman's life... I let go these thoughts a bit spiced up with frustration if not anger. Now I feel more at peace...
Greater Iqbal park that leads to the Royal Fort walls
The Royal Fort is rectangular with the main gates located alongside the centre of the western and eastern walls. Every succeeding Mughal Emperor, Sikhs, and the British all, added a pavilion, palace or wall to the Fort. The Famous Sheesh Mahal or Palace of Mirrors is in the north-east corner of the Fort, which we couldn't see due time constraint. This is reportedly the most beautiful palace in the Fort and is decorated with small mirrors of different colors.
We walk along the walls, enter through the main gate and are finally at the steps of the gate to the Shah Bruj Mosque's court. Just before passing through the gate to the courtyard, a young girl stops me and murmurs something I can’t quite decode. After several attempts, I figure out that she wants me to cover my legs! I am wearing a dress down to my knees, but my calves and shins are covered only by my transparent stockings. No wonder as we were strolling through the fort, some of the men were looking at my legs. Shanti and I had chuckled over my sinful legs: First time in my life my legs turn into representation of evil…
Note the flock of birds on top of this massive not well-kept gate
My top is covered with a large shawl, closest apparel I had in my luggage that makes me resemble Pakistani women, just a bit. This young lady tells me I need to cover my legs. I do? With what? She has the answer: she reaches into her bag and pulls out a semi-transparent shawl, which becomes my waist-down sari on the spot! Everybody is happy now, origin of sin has been covered, no mention now I look like a clown from a different planet… We quickly tour the museum sections of the mosque, where all kinds of textile paraphernalia that is claimed to have belonged to Prophet Mohammed is on display. For sure there is some hair on display, too. Why am I not surprised, every major mosque or Islamic architecture I have visited all over the world had a “hair display” of this sort.
I can’t help wondering whether every Muslim community had had somebody who had access to the Prophet’s face to pluck couple of strands of hair for royal palaces… I silently chuckle at my cynicism; will it ever go away around issues that seem to be strategized to manipulate people’s minds and belief systems? I don’t know…
Beautiful ornamentation of the gateway to the courtyard of Shah Burj Mosque
In fact there are two things that nulls a man’s praying: A dog or a woman walking across his praying mat! Never heard a woman’s prayer becoming null if a man walks across her mat. Why don’t Muslim women ever ask “Why didn’t prophet teach the men keep their hearts and minds pure rather than confining women into all kinds of symbolic prisons so that men could remain pure” Why is this responsibility on women’s shoulders to keep both themselves pure as well as all the men in the society?
Why do those men have the right looking at my legs in disdain and I feel guilty instead of having the courage to ask them "Why are you looking at my legs?" Not quite culturally competent thoughts, but that's what happens to a woman when she grows up in a culture where religion controls a lot in a woman's life... I let go these thoughts a bit spiced up with frustration if not anger. Now I feel more at peace...
Shanti gives me some good news: She states there are some
feisty feminist Muslim women in UK, Canada, and even in the US that are working
on reforming Islam from certain perspectives, the first and foremost being the
elimination of this gender based segregation. Had I still been a Muslim, I bet I would have joined them... Kudos to them: Only when majority
of Muslims, Jews, and Christians all become culturally Muslim, Jew or Christian
and keep their religious beliefs away from politics, will it become possible
for peoples to prevent religion from being used as a political tool by multiple
interest groups.
As we stroll around, every now and then young people men and
women approach me and ask to have a selfie taken with me. This is a first in
all of my travels! Shanti explains, it is very clear that I am a foreigner and
they would like to be able to tell back home that they met a foreigner… Once I
understand that, I pose with everybody that approaches me. Shanti and I chuckle
on the side that I became a selfie celebrity on the spot. With this easiness, I
ask a group of young women in all colors and shapes of attire and head scarves
if it is OK for me to take a picture of them. A man, clearly accompanying them
hollers from behind the group a firm “No!” and I don’t. As I walk away, the
girls holler “Thanks for asking though”, how sweet. The man might have
controlled their action but not their heart and soul. I look back, smile and
send them a “Shukriyah”…
I feel very tired, this chaotic and overburdened traffic, the rushing crowd all around me even at this touristic site has become too much of turmoil even for me. In fact as the years go by, this city girl, who lived the first 38 years of her life in a modern city with some 5 million population is getting dizzied, even in Izmir nowadays. Lahore is said to have somewhere between 16 to 20 million population. Who knows how many cars, how many rickshaws, how many motorcycles. Even at 3 am in the morning on my last day as we will glide toward the airport, I will observe the roads not being that dormant. Nowhere near the heavy traffic of the peak hours, but the horn conversation, which is typical in all developing countries is necessary from time to time even at 3 am: Short blow – “Get out of my way”, Slight touch of the horn – “Beware, I am passing you”, Long blow – “You idiot, don’t you see I am on this lane” and many more…
The revelations in the book that I had read just before
traveling to Pakistan titled “Positive energy…” by Judith Orloff, who identifies herself
as an intuitive and a psychiatrist come very handy in interpreting what these
48 hours mean for me. The gut feeling we may feel when we encounter a person,
who gives us a negative vibe, how we should listen to it… The exhaustion we
feel in crowded places such as airports because of all the rush and anxiety
that may be associated with security lines, being late and on and on, she
attributes to our intuitive core receiving all the negative energy surrounding
us. She states, those who emanate negative energy deplete our positive energy
as well. The recommendation is, when you feel that exhaustion that energy
depletion, excuse yourself and retrieve to your positive energy source,
replenish your core. I am right about there, thanks to Shanti and her wise “Do
you think, it’s about time to go back to the hotel?”, “Yes, Shanti, yes, I am
ready…”. It will be great to be with me, myself, and I for a few hours while I
pack before going to bed to sleep for a few hours until 2:30 am.
Entrance to the hotel yard is from this shanty town side and it has metal solid fences a story high protected by security guards
The ride to the airport is interesting: The driver seems to be in his 40s. I volunteer to sit in the back to be culturally competent, since I know that the other passenger is a man and he deserves to sit by the driver!!! The driver is the last to get in the car and to my great surprise he greets only the man in the front with a “Good morning Sir”. Before the sentence even registers in my mind I have already said “Good morning” assuming he would have greeted both of us. He repeats “Good morning Sir”. Is it that I “became” a man all of a sudden, or is it him ignoring me by addressing the man again? I am flabbergasted, still giving him the benefit of doubt, I ask him about the gunmen opening and closing the gate to the hotel premises. He almost cuts me off moving both his hands from one side to the other with a sharp “Relax, it’s security”.
Entrance to the hotel yard is from this shanty town side and it has metal solid fences a story high protected by security guards
The ride to the airport is interesting: The driver seems to be in his 40s. I volunteer to sit in the back to be culturally competent, since I know that the other passenger is a man and he deserves to sit by the driver!!! The driver is the last to get in the car and to my great surprise he greets only the man in the front with a “Good morning Sir”. Before the sentence even registers in my mind I have already said “Good morning” assuming he would have greeted both of us. He repeats “Good morning Sir”. Is it that I “became” a man all of a sudden, or is it him ignoring me by addressing the man again? I am flabbergasted, still giving him the benefit of doubt, I ask him about the gunmen opening and closing the gate to the hotel premises. He almost cuts me off moving both his hands from one side to the other with a sharp “Relax, it’s security”.
Is he the prototype of a testosterone bomb looking down on
any female whatever their “cast” may be? Is he just shy since his English is
very poor and finds safety in not talking to me? Is he just keeping his
cultural distance with the opposite sex by ignoring me as his best tool? Is
there anything else that could explain this near-hostility? Is it possible that
all these signs are inaccurate and in the paradise of “signlessness” there is a
very innocent and humane explanation to this? I resolve that there may or may
not be. But what does it matter? Here is a man of a land that I know very
little about, who is working hard during third shift and he simply does small
talk with the man in the car but not with the woman. As long as I know I am a
good person and haven’t done anything to offend him, I can rest in my inner
peace and wish him to have the same under any circumstance.
Airport is a totally different story. As I hand out my
Turkish passport to the ground hostess, a young friendly man, he greets me in
Turkish “Hos geldiniz” that is welcome. I am all smile at four o’clock in the
morning. He tells me he knows two Turkish words and the second one is “Gule
gule”, which is good bye. I smile and tell him that I also know two Urdu words
“Shukriyah” for thanks and “Gee” for Yes. When he hears the end of it “Words
that would keep me out of trouble”, he chuckles, his face now all bright with a
wide smile. I will figure out that he has given me the best seats for all my
flights and will send him a "Shukriyah" as I board each one of my flights on my way back home...
Security becomes cherry on top of the cake as I have the
last professional contact with a Pakistani on this trip. As I get out of the
security check point the young man handing me my stuff looks at my face almost
mischievously as one of his colleagues is watching on. With his quizzical
smile, he asks me if I know Einstein. As I respond and continue looking at his
face to figure out where this is going, his smile gets wider.
A picture of me with my wild white hair: Nowhere near Einstein look, but the joke the security guard made about my hair and Einstein will stay with me as a sweet memory...
I see my face surrounded with white, curly, wild hair and look at him with a big laughter “You won’t tell me I look like Einstein, will you?” All three of us are laughing now, and from the heart at that. The instigator tells me “I hope this doesn’t offend you” gracefully and apologetically. Of course it doesn’t. As I depart, the driver of the morning is already lost in the smog of Lahore, and these two bright, open-minded, sweet, respectful, and kind young men add to all the positive human flavors of my interactions with the people of Pakistan.
A glimpse to Muscat, Oman, the first Muslim country I had visited outside of Turkey in 2016
On the way to my gate I make a mental note that
Pakistan is the second Muslim country I have ever visited outside of Turkey.
The first was Oman, in which I had spent only 24 hours. Pakistan is the second
with a 48 hours dose of Islamic culture two years apart. Am I giving myself
desensitization treatment of Islam so that I don’t have an allergic reaction to
big doses of it? Or am I immunizing myself against it? Will I ever arrive at
peace with Islam and what it does to women if nothing else? Time will tell. 
I see my face surrounded with white, curly, wild hair and look at him with a big laughter “You won’t tell me I look like Einstein, will you?” All three of us are laughing now, and from the heart at that. The instigator tells me “I hope this doesn’t offend you” gracefully and apologetically. Of course it doesn’t. As I depart, the driver of the morning is already lost in the smog of Lahore, and these two bright, open-minded, sweet, respectful, and kind young men add to all the positive human flavors of my interactions with the people of Pakistan.
At least at this point, I can tell, I won’t avoid it anymore and Pakistan is still a very good place for me to attempt coming to peace with Islam with the help and support of its loving, hospitable people, much less oppression on women’s freedoms compared to some of the Arabian peninsula nations, and permissiveness toward international work. I will keep an open mind and heart, be compassionate toward myself first and fore most and reflect the same to all those I come in contact with as they are receptive to it… Those who are not, I will respect their space and let them be until the time comes they may move beyond their vulnerabilities to touch the goodness in themselves. Good bye Pakistan and Lahore, will see you soon.
 |
| Please keep those kids safe... |
