Wednesday, May 17, 2006

women in Iran

Yay! Back in Tehran and back on the internet. So much has happened between my last post now. Coming back to Tehran has felt, in spite of the polluted air, like a fresh breath or like coming home.

I've written 82 pages in my notebook since we left Tehran and my head is really stewing with all the perceptions, sites, questions and gaps I'm taking in. There are a lot of similiarities between Americans and Iranians. Both in terms of what individuals want and how they think about the world. And there also seem to be some very big cultural differences - things I see somewhat but, because I don't speak the language and this is a short trip, I can't develop much understanding about.In the past couple of days, a lot of my thoughts and questions have been swirling around the roles of women: what it means to be a woman here, how do respect and power between the sexes play out, what comes from Islam and what are much older, more ingrained cultural patterns, how do these play out now, what is the role of women in the U.S., etc. The role of women seems to be one of the trigger issues that get highlighted in Western media and encourage the depersonalization and 'foreigness' people often feel about folks in many middle eastern countries. I think this contributes a lot to tensions between Iran and the U.S.We visited Persepolis, the ruins of a royal city from the time of the Persian Empire, 500 bc, when 23 separate nations pledged allegiance to the Persian, Zoroastrian King. Persepolis is awe inspiring and breathtaking. Two things about women stuck in my head. First, in all the beautiful and detailed bass reliefs and carvings, there are no images of women anywhere. Second, the Queen's palace, close to the center of the compound, was built below ground.Family space was private and separate from daily affairs. Even 2500 years ago the cultural roots were deep and strong.

Everywhere we've gone, there have been few images of women. Again and again we have heard and seen and felt how important relationships between men and women are, how they are equal in the eyes of God (unlike Adam and unfortunate Eve), how important family is, how respecting your mother is the first, second, third and fourth thing you can do, and how strong, educated and powerful the women are here.

We were in Qom (a very holy, religious and conservative city) yesterday and, entering a famous mosque, we women had to put on the chador (which means tent in Farsi). The chador is basically a slightly shaped large piece of cloth that gets draped around the outside of the body. Kind of like wrapping yourself up in a sheet. It goes over your head and you hold in closed with your hand in front of your chest. It was awkward and unwieldy (and didn't smell so great since it was a loaner) but my extremely strong reaction to wearing it had nothing to do with the difficulties in movement. I felt claustrophic. I felt irritated. I felt like crying. We were ushered into a room that was set up for men on one side and women on another. In this environment, wrapped in this sheet I was struck at how there was no way I could understand what women's dress means to Iranian women because my very Western, post-feminist reactions are so strong. I felt like I needed to push for some kind of direct engagement- some kind of proof I was seen. And, though I think some women here may have similar reactions, most of them seem to have a very different relationship to the whole thing.

I've spoken to many women about this experience since then - other delegation members, Iranians and a Menonite American woman who has lived in Qom with her husband the past two and a half years (they are both going to religious school). And it seems clear that I don't understand it - I think that is common to most of us in the U.S. It also seems clear that wearing the chador is an actual choice by many women. Not a choice of the type that, if they don't, there will be supreme reprecussions, but an actual choice. It represents different socio-political statements, it allows for more freedom of movement and I'm sure a million other things. Of the people I've spoken to, many said they would eagerly ditch their headscarves, and many said they like covering and covering fully.

In these discussions we have also talked about domestic violence, rape, education, and family planning since these often have a large impact on womens' lives and may get lumped into the discussion on covering. It is my sense, after two brief weeks, that women in Iran have many challenges - legally, and culturally, especially those in very rural areas. However, that's not the whole situation: I've heard the quality of healthcare is good, family planning services are offered widely and aren't stigmatized, there are more women in university than men, women occupy many positions in most fields of business, and women in Iran have more freedom of movement than most middle eastern countries. I spoke to one man about a famous Iranian woman race car driver. He said that there are many women race car drivers (and engineers, doctors, professors, etc.) and that the only time he came in second place (he was a race car driver) in a race was to a woman. He also said women can and should do anything they want, as long as their heads were covered.

The main thing I get from these converations is that the issues are complicated. And, as someone who does not understand it and live with it, all I can do is keep the question open and continue to recognize my gap in understanding. Also, if peace between Iranian people and American people is the intention (and it is very much my intention), it is much more productive to look at and work to understand our commonalities, to work on understanding how we define different ideas, what our shared values are, than to first, second and only, relate to and get upset about the things we don't really understand. This doesn't mean there needs to be agreement but there needs to be the space for dialogue about the commonalities, and the not knowing.

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