Veiled does not Equal Gagged

This event happened a little over a month ago, but it is something I've been thinking about since then. For the first time ever, I went to a mosque. As most of you know, I spent my summer taking intensive Arabic, and my professor, who is a practicing Muslim, invited us to go to a Friday service with him and his wife. It was during Ramadan, which is the Muslim holy month (usually corresponds to August, time-wise) and a large part of Ramadan is that you fast during daylight hours. I have never fasted for religious reasons (and there is a very good chance that I never will), but one point of fasting during Ramadan is to instill humility in the participant, so they think about people in the world who do not have food and who do not eat (or eat enough) on a daily basis. This is something that we, especially Americans, should really, really be more aware of, and I like that aspect of it.

During Ramadan, fast is broken at sundown with a dinner called iftar (which, if I remember correctly, means "breaking of the fast"). Many mosques will have community dinners, followed by the usual recitations of the Qur'an and prayer. Instead of going to the mosque in town, we went to the Islamic Society of North America's mosque/headquarters, which, for reasons that continue to baffle us all, is actually located in Plainfield, Indiana, about an hours drive from here. ISNA has a well-deserved reputation for being more open to non-Muslim visitors, which is a reputation that the mosque here does not have--also, the mosque in town is run by some old-school guys who still insist that women pray in a separate room (located in the basement). I would not have gone to a mosque with such a set-up, which is also the reason why my professor and many other people this community don't go there either. ISNA is much more egalitarian.

So we drove up and met up with some other people from my class and my professor and his wife (who are both so cool), and broke fast. I had pseudo-fasted that day, which (for me) meant not eating since breakfast, and as sunset is pretty late here in the summer (9 pm or so), it was nice to eat! The food was amazing, prepared by people who go to the mosque. There were many different rice dishes, some delicious curried eggs, salads, moussaka, kebabs, and dates and figs. Afterwards we had cups of chai tea and went upstairs to begin the prayers. I took two pictures when a classmate and I were poking around looking for a bathroom, so I was able to see the prayer hall without anyone in it, and it's a beautiful space. I study Catholic art and am aesthetically drawn to honkin' huge amounts of stained glass and gold and paintings, but those trappings do not feel overly spiritual to me. The relative simplicity of mosque art and architecture is a lot more soothing, and a lot more conducive to actually thinking about religion and reflecting on yourself.This doesn't really do it justice, because there was a lovely portal and series of windows that you can't see, but this is the general view of the prayer space. The carpet is stripped so you know how to line up in rows (much like pews). As is common practice, men are up closer to the front and women are to the back. I totally understand that for women this might be a modesty concern (and frankly, I wouldn't want to have to bend and kneel in front of rows of men), so this arrangement does make sense to me.This is the entrance area to the prayer hall, which is also clad in neutral colors and is a calming space--I think there was water in the center well, surrounded by plants. As you can sort of see, there are two carpet runners, one on the right and on the left. As you face the prayer hall, women enter on the left and men on the right. You line your shoes up against the wall, and then walk on your respective carpet in, stepping with your right foot first over the threshold. There were probably only 100 people at the service and the mosque can hold much more, so there was a lot of space in the middle, as the women stayed further back and to the left. There were 6 of us students (3 men and 3 women), so we split up and then sat against the back wall to observe. They start off with prayers, with a man (I'm not sure if imam is the right term, but it's usually an older, male member of the church) reciting. Since I didn't know the meaning of most of the words (especially when spoken so FAST), I could focus instead on the cadence of speech and the movement of people's bodies, which was very cool to see.

After the prayers, recitation of the Qur'an began. Our professor got us Qur'ans from one of the bookshelves and got us onto the right page. And I was actually able to follow along! Well, for the most part. At certain points you jump back to the first page and then pick up back where you left off, so once I figured out that rhythm, it went pretty well. We were there for about an hour (recitations would go on for another hour or so) and then we left. It's culturally very different in that you can congregate at the back of the prayer hall and talk, even while prayers are happening (as long as you're not right behind people praying) and the kids ran in and around the prayer hall and no one told them to knock it off (let me tell you, as someone who spent a lot of time in Lutheran churches as a child, that there is no running during services--least of all because the pews get in the way!)

All of this brings me to the title of this post: all of the women at the mosque were veiled, including me.
If you had asked me a few months ago what I thought about hijab or burqa I would have said something like, that it was a personal choice and that countries shouldn't regulate or force women to either not cover their heads (like France), or to cover their heads. I still stand by this assessment. One thing that is even more clear to me now is that judging people based on their religion alone is dangerous and stupid, and that judging a woman based on whether she decides to cover her hair (or not) is even more dangerous and stupid. There are plenty of reasons to veil, and plenty of reasons not to, and I do not think either decision makes a woman any less of a feminist. Case in point: my professor's wife, B., who follows hijab. She is also totally stylish, cool, young, smart, and hip. She's my age, and only recently decided to follow more strict guidelines about dress, not because anyone told her to--her parents are Syrian and pretty traditional, but didn't force veiling on their daughters, which is important. Yes, hijab is sometimes dictated by men (and that is where I start having problems with it), but a lot of times it has nothing to do with men at all. This is a concept that I think sometimes my friends/professors (ie liberal, secular, academics) have trouble reconciling, and I am certainly conflicted about it, too.

I took a really excellent class on women and religion in my senior year of college (taught by this blogger, actually) and we read a great book called Living Islam Out Loud: American Muslim Women Speak, edited by Saleemah Abdul-Ghafur. One of my favorite parts, and one which has stuck with me throughout the years, was a long poem by Su'ad Abdul-Khabeer, titled "A Day in the Life". In it, she discusses the pressure for Muslim women to conform, both from traditionalist Muslims, and Westerners who want to "liberate" them. I'm going to quote from it now.

some of my sisters
are in combat
with ideas newly born
and words older than the world;
yet, to cover or not cover
Is not my battleground.
...
See, clothes do not hide the woman
They announce her.
...
When they only offer scarves
studded with restriction,
the rear masjid entrance,
and a stay-home free card.
Then,
I don't feel beautiful
and I am.
...
If you had asked me
I would have told you
I don't have any brothers,
My father rarely prays
and when he does
It is for my happiness
and my scarf
did not come with detachable weapons
nor dyed with subversive messages.
No.
My scarf
is about
Claiming space.
but you didn't ask.
...
There is a lot more, and I would encourage you all to check it out. And think about it. I have been.