So this post is
not in reaction to anything, but is just something I feel I need to say. I realize it’s not my most eloquent
writing, but I kind of took a stream of consciousness approach while writing
this.
Back
in the U.S., I lived in a wonderful and amazing state that I love. Despite Colorado’s incredible beer,
scenery, and people, it definitely lacks racial and religious diversity
compared to other places. There
was a reason we called my hometown “Vanilla Valley.” Granted, that is changing, but it’s still predominantly
white and fairly Christian. I was
raised Catholic and am quite possibly one of the whitest people you’ll ever
meet, as I literally glow in the dark, sunburn far too easily, and have no
dancing skills to speak of.
With
that bit of background, I’m sure it won’t come as much of a surprise that there
weren’t many Muslims in Fort Collins.
I know there were a few students who came through my elementary school
who were Muslim, but there weren’t many.
Then my family moved to Berlin, Germany.
Berlin
has a large Turkish population, the majority of whom are Muslim. Turks run many kebab places in the
city, so when we became regulars at a small place by the S-Bahn, we got to know
the employees decently well.
Especially during our first week in Berlin, we ate at the Dรถner kebab place probably 3 or 4 times (we
were clueless as to where to go for food, as we were nervous being in a foreign
country for the first time). All
the men who worked there were extremely friendly and often gave us free tea or
fries or other extras. They were
some of the most welcoming people when we were scared and unsure in
Germany. Once we moved into our
apartment, the man who ran a little newspaper stand by the bus stop came from
Iraq and was also Muslim. He
quickly befriended my father, and told his story of being a journalist who fled
Iraq because he’d printed things that the government didn’t approve of. He was a really nice guy and it was sad
to think that he couldn’t return home.
Up
to that point in my life, these were some of the biggest interactions I had with
people of a different religion. I
was only 13 and was just starting to discover a lot of the world. These people were kind and wonderful
and I wasn’t really aware of their differing religious views.
While
we were in Berlin, 11 September happened.
We all know that there was quite the panic about Islam and Arabs in the
U.S. The unknown was scary for
many people, and I feel that a lot of the American Muslim population was
treated poorly post 9/11. However,
Muslims were some of the kindest and most supportive people we interacted with;
from helping my family and me when we arrived in a new country so we could eat
good food, extending the hands of friendship, or helping us with directions,
the people’s religion didn’t affect the fact that they were simply wonderful
people (the directions thing was funny.
We were in a small French village after dark in the pouring rain and
couldn’t find our way to our hotel.
My mom went into a kebab shop run by Turks, tried her high school French
plus lots of miming, and eventually one of the workers took pity on us and
walked my mom through the pouring rain to the hotel). It was sad for us to hear about how so
many American Muslims and American Arabs suffered extreme prejudice as a result
of fear of the unknown.
*I realize that
the United States is not the only place where these kinds of issues are
common. However, as an American
citizen, I am speaking of my personal experiences, which are limited to the
U.S. and Europe*
When I returned
the U.S., I was very happy to be back home, but missed the delicious Turkish
kebabs that I’d come to love, and all of the wonderful people who’d become my
friends while in Germany. The next
few years I had few interactions with religions other than Christianity and
Judaism. However, during my
college study abroad, I took advantage of an opportunity to visit a former
teacher in Tunisia. Sandy had
taught at my German-American school in Berlin, and had continued hopping around
the globe to teach at various international schools (I’m hoping my life can end
up kind of like hers). When I
returned to Germany, she was living in Carthage in the northern African country
of Tunisia (as many people know, this would later be the spark of the Arab
Spring, as the result of a fruit seller setting himself on fire in protest of
the government’s oppression).
Visiting Tunisia was an amazing trip. I loved it. I got
to immerse myself in history, which was of course a delight (um, hello? Carthage ruins!! And the largest coliseum outside of
Rome, in which I walked where prisoners and beasts were held prior to their
fights! It was history dork
heaven!). While there, I also was
able to learn a great deal about Tunisian culture. Sandy had been living in Tunisia long enough to answer many
of my questions about the country.
The
president of Tunisia had been in power for decades. I actually saw his palace in Tunis, and some guards came
across the street and told us to continue moving, that we couldn’t stay
standing and looking at it. I hung
out with Sandy’s maid, who was a little woman who spoke no English, and only a
little bit of French. She and I
stumbled through communicating with each other, but ended up spending an entire
day together, during which we drank tea, went to the market and made
couscous. Though I had an amazing
trip in general, getting to go around the market with her was fantastic and was
one of the highlights of my trip.
I was the lone white girl, holding the shopping basket, staring happily
at the piles of fruits, vegetables and spices while the Tunisian woman laughed
with her vender friends. I guess
that was one of the first occasions in which I was the complete minority in
every way: racially, religiously, height wise...seriously, I towered over all
the women in the place. But it was
also fun. During the trip, Sandy
and some of her teacher friends and I went to a small village in the
countryside. While there, we
discovered that it was a holiday, the celebration of Muhammad’s birth. The call to prayer went off often, people
were dressed in their best, and families were happily spending together.
Jump
forward a few years, to when I joined Peace Corps. Tanzania has two main dominant religions, Christianity and
Islam. The interior of the country
is predominantly Christian, whereas the coasts and the islands of Zanzibar are
mostly Muslim. Both Christian and
Muslim holidays are recognized and celebrated throughout the country,
regardless of people’s personal religion.
For example schools are closed for Christmas, Idd-el-Haji, Easter,
Idd-el-Fitr, even if the area is predominantly one religion. During our initial
pre-service training, we had an interview where we discussed our preferences
for our site placements. I said that
I wanted to be in a Muslim community.
I selfishly wanted to learn more about Islam. But I can’t even tell you how happy I am to be in my
community. I’ve learned a lot and
enjoy getting to be in a different religious culture.
First
of all, I know this comes across very lovely and idealistic and silly, but it’s
been reaffirmed many times for me that people are people. It doesn’t matter what country they are
from or what their beliefs are, people care about their families, their
friends, and want the best for everyone.
There
are people who jump to conclusions when they find out I live in a mostly Muslim
village. I’ve had people ask if
there are any extremists in my area, if I cover my head, or if I’m treated as
less because I’m a woman. Let me
break these stereotypes down for you a wee bit:
-
extremists: I believe the individual who asked me
that question meant if there are people who are very radical in their beliefs
to the point of committing acts of terrorism. The fact of the matter is that I’m in one of the most
peaceful countries in Africa.
Tanzanians of all faiths take pride in how peaceful their country is
compared to places like Kenya, the DRC, and Uganda. My parents were extremely relieved to find out I would be
living in someplace like Tanzania, where they would still worry about me, but
less than if it were a different country.
Also, though people have very strong faith in their religion, it
obviously does not mean that they agree with groups like Al Qaida. Islam is not terrorism. I have never had a person in their
country have an issue with me based on my country of origin. I feel safe, and enjoy winning people
over with a smile and greeting in their language.
-
Tanzania
is not an extremely conservative country.
Ok, that’s not completely true.
It IS conservative in some ways, such as women generally wearing skirts,
and not showing bare knees or shoulders.
However, there are many Muslim women who do not cover their hair,
and there are Christian women who do cover their hair. In my area, most of the women cover
their hair in some way. I am also
in a village, however, which most certainly is more conservative than more
urban areas. Whether it’s wearing
a headscarf or something like a bandana, mamas and older girls will not show
their hair generally. However, if
a man sees a woman’s hair, it is not really a big deal. For example, many female students will
adjust their scarves in class, and so they take it off for a little while, in
the presence of male students and even male teachers. My friend Jasmine is a Muslim (who
happens to work in a liquor store owned by her family, so I find it kinda
funny), but always has her hair visible and done in beautiful braids. Within the village, the Christian girls
don’t cover their heads, but shave their heads the way that female and male
students need to all over the country. Around the village, there have even been
a few occasions in which women will be getting their hair braided outside where
lots of people (including men) pass by and can see their hair completely. No one in my village has ever asked me
to cover my hair. Sometimes
they’ll jokingly take my scarf and drape it over my hair, but I’ve never felt
like I need to do so in order to respect their religion. But I think if I covered my hair,
they’d be really happy and declare that I’m even more a member of the
tribe. Maybe for Idd, beloved
village, but not every day.
-
The
last point about being treated less because of my gender…it’s a complicated
one. The fact of the matter is
that I am treated differently than a lot of people, and differently than I
would be in the U.S. I honestly
don’t think it’s because of Islam, however. I am a white woman living in a developing African country. Tanzanian women and men have very
different roles here, which many of them stick to. It’s a male dominated society. The vast majority of women that I’ve gotten to know do
almost all the work around the home, as well as working at shops or on the
family farm. It’s extraordinary
how much they work. Most of the
men in my village sit around. Many
of them work some, but it’s far more likely I’ll see them sprawled on the grass
talking or drinking chai at the shop.
I’m a teacher so many people respect me. I’m a foreigner who chose to live in their community, and
they want to make me feel welcomed and at home. That means I get lots of people inviting me to their homes
and wanting to help me. But I’ve
had comments made, like “Let me do that, because I am the man.” Or “Women don’t drive.” Snide comments which aren’t true, and
which are incredibly annoying for a feminist like me. I’m happy to prove them wrong on many occasions, such as the
fact that I do drive (though I’ve never driven on the left side of the road,
nor shifted with my left hand, so that’d be a bit hard for me), I’ve felled and
chainsawed just like the men getting firewood for the community, and I can in
fact carry my own stuff. These are
things that I’ve discussed with both Christians and Muslims. I’ll emphasize it again, I don’t
believe that religion is the reason women are treated as less, but it’s the
male-dominated culture within Tanzania.
Within Peace Corps, we have a lot of trainings about how to encourage
and support gender equality within our communities. I encourage my students of both sexes a great deal, but
emphasize to the girls that they’re smart and can do whatever they want. Apparently the female students cheered
when they found out I would be coming to the school. Finally a female teacher! I’d like to think that a college-educated woman can give
them an example of what they can do, but I’m not positive about that. I just know they like me, but my
lasting influence has yet to be seen.
I realize that
there are many rants within this post.
Pretty much the point I’m trying to make is that fear of the unknown is
human nature. Education and
getting to know people can help curb that fear. However, believing the hype and that some crazy terrorists
represent the religion of millions of individuals is simply ridiculous. Religion is important, but letting
stereotypes of a religion cloud your perception of an individual is among the
worst things we can do as humans.
