Four months after my first visit to Pakistan, I am again on my way to it through Arab Emirates, Abu Dhabi, this time my destination is Islamabad.
My friends are besides themselves again, in panic for my safety: I am looking forward to it. For one, my first trip to Lahore, Pakistan generated very positive experiences and memories. Pakistani people proved to be very diverse in every way
imaginable, very friendly, welcoming, and hospitable. They also made me feel very
much at home and safe during my 48 hours in Lahore in November 2017.
Generational attire diversity in the same family
Secondly, Islamabad, with its 1.5-2 million population, apparently is a much more manageable city. Compared to Lahore’s 15-20 million population, it should be less daunting. Lastly, this time, I will be working with the government of Pakistan and UNICEF, I should be even safer. I am hoping these two visits will in the end convince me that what is reported by the US State Department is pretty
exaggerated in terms of safety issues: The moment, my trip to Pakistan was
entered into the university time-off approval portal, I received an automatic
e-mail message from the State Department. Skimming through it I could see the
frenzy about how I should think twice before going to Pakistan.
Two village men in an authentic village nearby Islamabad
They clearly stated, "consider postponing your trip due to terrorist activities". That is how we all perceive Pakistan, even Turkey, in the US regarding safety issues. I smile at them and say “I trust the trustworthy people of Pakistan to protect me”, which is true. During my first visit, I was escorted at all times wherever I went, and I trust it will be no different this time. And if a terrorist's body explodes next to the car I am in, bad luck... Yet, I can't say I don't have any anxiety about going to an Islamic country, but it is of a different variety: I am usually worried about how things will go, especially from cultural competency perspective. I wonder if I will be able to keep my free-spirit under control so that I can come across as respectful of others' cultural and religious practices, which is most important in a culture governed by Islam. I trust I will never have a problem with simply traditional life styles but how my heart will feel upon encounters with radical Islamists is another story.
Generational attire diversity in the same family
Secondly, Islamabad, with its 1.5-2 million population, apparently is a much more manageable city. Compared to Lahore’s 15-20 million population, it should be less daunting. Lastly, this time, I will be working with the government of Pakistan and UNICEF, I should be even safer. I am hoping t
They clearly stated, "consider postponing your trip due to terrorist activities". That is how we all perceive Pakistan, even Turkey, in the US regarding safety issues. I smile at them and say “I trust the trustworthy people of Pakistan to protect me”, which is true. During my first visit, I was escorted at all times wherever I went, and I trust it will be no different this time. And if a terrorist's body explodes next to the car I am in, bad luck... Yet, I can't say I don't have any anxiety about going to an Islamic country, but it is of a different variety: I am usually worried about how things will go, especially from cultural competency perspective. I wonder if I will be able to keep my free-spirit under control so that I can come across as respectful of others' cultural and religious practices, which is most important in a culture governed by Islam. I trust I will never have a problem with simply traditional life styles but how my heart will feel upon encounters with radical Islamists is another story.
Pakistani and Indian passengers dancing during festivities at Abu Dhabi Airport: might be an outlier...
Abu Dhabi is a brief test, yet, again. As I walk from one gate to another, I see a man in traditional Arabic white dress with a tense expression on his face. I don’t even know if he saw me or not before I see him, let alone having eye contact. He is followed with two women in identical attire, all black covering their entire body except for their hands and a slit across their faces barely allowing them to see where they step, perhaps. My blood boils, not only because of the contrast of the attire, but also with the possibility that both of these women may be his wives! I feel it, thanks to mindfulness practice, as soon as the boiling starts I focus on my breathing. This helps my "blood pressure" come down to at least a reasonably simmering level.
Abu Dhabi is a brief test, yet, again. As I walk from one gate to another, I see a man in traditional Arabic white dress with a tense expression on his face. I don’t even know if he saw me or not before I see him, let alone having eye contact. He is followed with two women in identical attire, all black covering their entire body except for their hands and a slit across their faces barely allowing them to see where they step, perhaps. My blood boils, not only because of the contrast of the attire, but also with the possibility that both of these women may be his wives! I feel it, thanks to mindfulness practice, as soon as the boiling starts I focus on my breathing. This helps my "blood pressure" come down to at least a reasonably simmering level.
Then at the gate another semi-blood boiling moment, although
not nearly at the same level as the first one. We are in line waiting for
passport verification by an Arab beauty at the desk. She has put head cover on
her hair, which must have wrapped her hair like a sock. Then she twisted her
hair and the “hair sock” into a bun over her head. This gives her beautifully
made-up face an even more exotic look. She is mild, respectful, playful,
confident, and inevitably measured. All is going well until it is this tall, sturdy young man’s
turn. She asks about his carry-on as she has done with everybody. Instead of
showing her his carry-on, he states “he hasn’t checked in any luggage”. She comes
around and checks its weight by lifting it, decides it is OK to take aboard.
She then adds, “had it been too heavy to take aboard, you would have had to
check this in”, it is indeed a large carry on. The man impresses me as a
fidgety, tense mass of muscles, almost looking for a fight.
Pakistan is full of artistic and mild men, too.
Was he tense for concerns that he might have had to check in his carryon? Was he tense because this Arab beauty’s femininity radiating through all her modesty aroused "the devil" in him as his clerics would claim and he is angry at her because of that? Was he tense because he had fought with his wife he left behind before taking off for this trip? Who knows… I was observing him for a while sensing the negative energy he had been exuding. I can’t help but think “Oh beauty, I wish you had refrained from saying this” knowing what a trigger it might have become for this mass of tension, but she didn’t, perhaps she had felt the negative energy he had been exuding and reacted to it, who knows. He was apparently waiting for this type of an even minor confrontation. He picks up the fight and towers over her with his huge body and almost explodes “I haven’t checked any luggage, I travel with a carry-on, why would I have to check this in?”
One of Pakistan's colors, which may turn into a wall of art
Was he tense for concerns that he might have had to check in his carryon? Was he tense because this Arab beauty’s femininity radiating through all her modesty aroused "the devil" in him as his clerics would claim and he is angry at her because of that? Was he tense because he had fought with his wife he left behind before taking off for this trip? Who knows… I was observing him for a while sensing the negative energy he had been exuding. I can’t help but think “Oh beauty, I wish you had refrained from saying this” knowing what a trigger it might have become for this mass of tension, but she didn’t, perhaps she had felt the negative energy he had been exuding and reacted to it, who knows. He was apparently waiting for this type of an even minor confrontation. He picks up the fight and towers over her with his huge body and almost explodes “I haven’t checked any luggage, I travel with a carry-on, why would I have to check this in?”
One of Pakistan's colors, which may turn into a wall of art
His demeanor is almost “try me, I’ll show you if you can
make me check this in.” I am not sure if I am biased against this very familiar
machismo from Turkey and even the US, for that matter… I feel for the woman,
while I feel disdain toward his machismo. I can’t help but wonder if he would
have acted the way he does with this woman had the person at the desk been his
size of a man… Luckily, the woman is professional enough, or perhaps socialized
all too well to retreat when men become confrontational. She distances herself
from him both physically and behaviorally and states “You are fine, your
carryon is not too heavy” and dissipates the tension. Pheeewww...
When it is my turn with her, I feel the urgency to mention
the scene to her and express my camaraderie. I tell her how wisely she handled
an unnecessary angry male outburst, she smiles with content on her face for
having been understood. I wonder what he would have told me, if anything, had I
been able to approach him with trauma sensitive communication methods that I am
trying to master. One of the most impressive Buddhist practitioners Cheryl Maples, a late police officer from Chicago had
used loving kindness techniques with perpetrators of domestic
violence, which is essentially trauma informed, trauma sensitive communication!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sopO5k5yqvI
I wish all legal system is transformed into one using Cheryl's practice. It would allow us all to see the hearts bleeding profusely underneath the thick crust violent men and women had to build brick by brick over their good, soft and kind core, with which they lost contact...
Yet, I come across another man in identical attire on the
bridge to the plane. He, in contrast with his fellow citizen, perhaps, turns
sideways and catches my eye as he smiles “Good morning” to me. My heart warms
up with this welcome: I can’t believe what this friendly “good morning” stirs
in me: I recall a friend, who had told me, after some time of having no physical contact with anybody, how the hair dresser
touching his head had stirred in his touch-starved heart an awareness of the importance of touch. I, on the other hand, compare this minute two diametrically opposing ways of interaction, one full of negative energy causing miles of distance in emotional panorama, the other connecting with the bond of being human.
My hotel is adorned with beautiful pieces of art as if it is a museum
What I would like to attain when I travel to Islamic countries is to is an anthropologist attitude so that I can observe and accept anything and everything I come across without judging. I can't say I am anywhere near that goal although I have come across quite some ways... What happens to me instead is: I receive constant male hostility, be it subtle, from all directions. Is it just because my hair is not covered and I do not submit when Arab males look at me, instead I lock their gaze with a smile and kindness, knowing this is not culturally competent. Do I at this age stir up the devil in them, just as they claim an “Immodest” woman does in “poor, God’s male subjects, who cannot control their genitalia".
This young man plays the most beautiful classical music for me seeing that I am all ears for his feast
I must say, I do appreciate all the good Muslim males generously share with me in the form of kindness sprinkled here and there. But, then, there is the female response aspect of my response/reaction to what I observe in an Islamic society. I observe female submissiveness all around in different shades. Not being allowed to look at a man, period, specifically not in the eye when they are stripping you naked and devouring you behind who knows what kind of fantasies, is one. When a man becomes confrontational as described above, a woman being responsible to deescalate the situation by backing off or resorting to silence, basically by shutting their mouths, is another. Being locked into their burkas and/or homes, accepting domestic violence as fate, on and on and on...
What I would like to attain when I travel to Islamic countries is to is an anthropologist attitude so that I can observe and accept anything and everything I come across without judging. I can't say I am anywhere near that goal although I have come across quite some ways... What happens to me instead is: I receive constant male hostility, be it subtle, from all directions. Is it just because my hair is not covered and I do not submit when Arab males look at me, instead I lock their gaze with a smile and kindness, knowing this is not culturally competent. Do I at this age stir up the devil in them, just as they claim an “Immodest” woman does in “poor, God’s male subjects, who cannot control their genitalia".
I must say, I do appreciate all the good Muslim males generously share with me in the form of kindness sprinkled here and there. But, then, there is the female response aspect of my response/reaction to what I observe in an Islamic society. I observe female submissiveness all around in different shades. Not being allowed to look at a man, period, specifically not in the eye when they are stripping you naked and devouring you behind who knows what kind of fantasies, is one. When a man becomes confrontational as described above, a woman being responsible to deescalate the situation by backing off or resorting to silence, basically by shutting their mouths, is another. Being locked into their burkas and/or homes, accepting domestic violence as fate, on and on and on...
The mountains surrounding Islamabad
As we walk onto the plain, I don’t know, yet, that even a better encounter is in the waiting: I happen to sit next to two young people, The man, Ammar is 25 and the woman, Haida is 23, both college educated professionals. They are very talkative and we become friends over a half hour conversation. The woman must be a “revolutionary” in her own right, a woman after my own heart. First of all she chose a totally male dominated field for her college education and she was the only female in her graduating class. She had worked in a facility, where only 5-6 of the 2500 workers were females! She can never see herself as a woman, who will stop working after getting married, which is the tradition and expectation from every woman in Pakistan.
The fact that they have been dating for almost 18 months now, is known to only their parents. They tell me, in Pakistan, as soon as you pronounce dating, you must also start talking about marriage. They are not ready to get married, they’d like to enjoy life just like they did for a week in Thailand, from where they are returning. They remind me of the serenity prayer of Reinhold Nie “God give me the strength to change the things I can, the serenity to accept the things I can’t and the wisdom to know the difference between the two”. Yet, they have added another piece to the prayer “give me the agility to find ways around unreasonable barriers to enjoy life as it is handed to me with all its beauties”. This is resilience and scores of young people have found this path to not give in to despair in oppressive shame cultures… Kudos to these young people.
The female member of the two leads the conversation and her boyfriend doesn’t mind it at all, what a refreshing experience to meet a Pakistani male, who is so open, supportive, and proud of his girlfriend with the way she is, a free-spirit! The woman floods me with questions first to understand who I am. She tells me she saw me typing on my lap top and inferred that I must like to write, indeed I do, and in fact I was typing up my impressions from the airport! Once she learns that I am originally from Turkey, but I have been living and working in the US for 20 years, she is all the more interested in conversing. She asks and I answer, she learns all about how and why I left Turkey, ended up in the US, and if not physically, professionally, how I returned to Turkey via a multitude of means to continue educating both professionals and the society on child abuse and neglect prevention and management.
I have a feeling, she thinks she has found a mentor of some sort in me. What kind of books do I like to read? What do I read now? She takes notes on the books I mention. She tells me she is reading Arundhati Roy's last book "The Ministry of Utmost Happiness". We find yet another connection there. Arundhati is one of my most favorite authors. We exchange notes about our impressions of “The God of Small Things”, which I had read some 18-19 years ago. One of the most intriguing books I have read about class, discrimination, sexual abuse, shame... We love it mutually as we find more and more connections although there are three generations of space in time between us.
I learn a lot about Pakistan throughout the flight. In large cities, people tend to go to college at higher rates compared to rural Pakistan, no different than in Turkey. However, most women, even in the cities do get their college degree only to stop working once they are married. This is quite different from what I experienced in Turkey. In fact, in Turkey, women of the top 1% chose not to work after getting married since they thought work was only to bring income to the household, sort of a necessity when money was scarce. I, on the other hand, always thought to work was a right to enhance one's horizon's and use all our brains. It is good to see that Haida is with me in this line of thinking.
I hope Haida joins the ranks of this courageous woman
She also grew up with a mother, who had her college degree but chose to stay home to raise her children, following the traditional expectations. Otherwise people would have thought, her father was not able to take care of his family, financially. However, the daughter now grown into a beautiful woman doesn’t think, she can let go of her aspirations as a professional. She is determined to continue conquering the men's world and deepening her footprint in Pakistani society even if she is one of only 5-6 women among over 2000 men in her work place. When I tell her, "You must be a revolutionary", she smiles a big, contagious, beautiful smile. Woman after my own heart, we share a delighted high five together… I know my daughter, who is another revolutionary on this earth would have loved to meet Haida...
Take a child to school volunteers in Pakistan
What is even more beautiful is that the man is proud of his girlfriend’s thoughts about “I have to be in the society all my life” as well as of her being the only female in her graduating college class. They understand how Islam in poorly educated sections of the society complicates everything: Women working in public being looked down on as their husband not being able to take care of the family. They dislike the fact that women are not allowed to get as much if any, education as their male peers do. They visit a girl’s school and spend time with young girls, who love going to school although they know there is no chance for them to go on beyond 10th grade before they get married.
All this deep sharing inevitably leads to exchange of contact information, share titles of books we are currently reading before we depart, and multiple pictures being taken, all with her initiative. As I leave them, I share my heart with them telling them people like them will change Pakistan, one person at a time like they do at the girl’s school. I ask them to share with their parents “Kudos for having raised such brilliant children”. She promises, she will and again she is all, but a big smile. We take pictures, a first for me with passengers on a plane. When I deplane, on the way to my hotel, my heart is full of warmth and hope for Pakistan…
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| In a country like Pakistan, beauty is everywhere, but mostly hidden in the dark. I wish more light could be shed on this society so that more of its beauty can be exposed to be seen by all seeing hearts |
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