An American writer’s trip to Kuala Lumpur and her first hand experience with wearing a veil.
The formidable Margaret Thatcher once said that if you want something done, you should give it to a woman. I would argue that if you want something done in extreme heat, give it to a particular group of women who, each and every day, provide a tremendous testament to the adaptability and resilience of females.
Walking through Masjid Jamek, the oldest mosque in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia (a country that is approximately 60 percent Muslim), I had a tiny taste of what females of the Islamic faith do on a daily basis. It was a scorching 95 degrees and, in my borrowed navy blue polyester robe and orange headscarf, I wasn’t nearly as clothed as most women I see walking through the streets. However, I could hardly think of anything other than the relief of taking it off.
There are many ethical and feminist arguments surrounding the wearing of the veil in the Islamic faith. Feminist author Ayaan Hirsi Ali, a Somali refugee who has publicly denounced her former Muslim faith through her writings, views the veil as a “visible symptom of [Muslim females’] more comprehensive subjection.” She believes that Western feminists must take up the cause of the veil as a human right, and not allow the practice to continue under a guise of religious freedom.
Others, such as Columbia University professor Lila Abu Lughold thinks that the Western world’s fixation on the veil as a symbol of oppression is misplaced. In her widely cited article The Muslim Woman, she says westerners must “resist the reductive interpretation of veiling as the quintessential sign of women’s un-freedom.”
During my experience at the mosque, I decided to put all those ethical and feminist judgments about wearing the veil aside, at least temporarily. Once I did that, I realized that regardless of one’s viewpoint, these women make being shrouded in five yards of fabric from head to toe in triple digit heat look easy, even chic. No sweat, no wilting, no sitting in shade avoiding work. One could argue that they don’t have a choice, that they’ve never known anything different, and therefore have grown used to this by necessity. This may be true, but it doesn’t make it any less impressive.
Lest you think being shrouded in fabric is an excuse to look dowdy, think again. The markets of Kuala Lumpur, or “KL” as the locals call it, are filled with colorful and decorative dress options as well as stylish Muslim women going about their daily work – selling goods, cooking, shopping, sweeping, and child rearing.
The customs and requirements of the Islamic faith are often, and in many cases justly criticized for their subjugation of women and suppression of female expression. To be sure, countries such as Saudi Arabia and Iran would certainly not allow the variety of dress styles that are worn by women in more liberal Muslim nations; doing so would be against the law and likely result in severe punishment. However in Kuala Lumpur, it’s hard not to notice the many women who seem to embrace the dress customs of their faith and make it their own with intricate makeup, adornments on their clothes, and ornate jewelry, all of which were openly for sale on the streets of KL.
I’ve often wondered what a Muslim woman might think of someone like me, walking down the street in denim cutoffs and a sleeve-less top on a hot and steamy day. I’ve wondered if they feel resentful of my ostensible freedom, ambivalent because I’m simply not one of them, or perhaps sorry for me for blithely exposing so much of myself to the world. I only know the feeling that I have in return, which after my polyester experience, is one of heightened respect.
While many people try to do so, it would be foolish to generalize about how Muslim women feel about the clothing requirements of their faith. While it’s possible that many females view it as a daily struggle, it’s likely that many others do not. But for someone like me, who dreads taking the underground when it’s hot enough to break even a minor sweat, it’s a good reminder that struggle is relative. And that humans, especially women, are incredibly adaptable to the circumstances they’re given.
Images: United Nations and Brett Jefferson Stott