Today I had my first conversation with a woman wearing the headscarf. I had interviewed covered women in Utrecht, but it wasn’t a heartfelt talk, just rather flat exchanges of information.
Feyza works for the Ministry of Religious Affairs of Turkey. She has the sweetest voice ever: I’m sure it would soothe any angry child. She is here in Konya for a conference of the Women’s Platform, about whose activities I will find out about this weekend.
We spoke briefly, but I felt totally at ease.
Of course, my attitude might seem strange. But the headscarf is not part of the culture I grew up in, or in my close “interactive” culture. I never had any covered classmates or friends. It’s just something that seemed “different”, something I couldn’t comprehend. Something I felt shy to ask about.
Besides, in Turkey, it is such a potent social political symbol at the root of much debate and discussion… Not only in Turkey actually. One way or another, my conversation with Feyza has opened a new door for me, a door of comfort and openness. I am not shy to ask anymore.
And this weekend in Konya, in central Turkey (the home of the famous Sufi mystic Rumi and of the twirling Dervishes) I will have the opportunity to speak to women who wear the scarf and who will be open to answering my questions.
…
Turks often add the suffix cim (jim) when speaking to you- eg. Kiniacim. It means Kinia dear. Also, relationships between people, even in academia are less formal than elsewhere. Not less polite, but warmer, more engaged, not as distant as I have experienced in Canada. The women I have interviewed (heads of NGOs, department chairs) have quickly adopted the second-person approach with me. And I feel like they make my project their cause.
I’ve been feeling this sense of euphoria this week (although I’m tired from enjoying the Istanbul nightlife!) regarding my relations with people.
They are just SO KIND. Everyone goes out of their way to help me. I have lost count of the people who have walked me to a bus, to a destination, escorted me. Doesn’t matter if sometimes it took them 30 minutes, they took the time for me. OK- taxi drivers have tried to charge me the night rate during the day every time, but I have been fed for free (even in cafés) or have been charged lower prices for food on many, many occasions.
When I flew into Konya, the airports electrician took me all the way to my hotel (about 45 minutes). He got people from the car rental agency to drive me closer to the center, then he took a dolmus (public taxi) to the Rixos with me. Not sure if that would happen in Canada.
Sure, I may sound a bit naïve and too optimistic, but really, the social culture in Turkey and Konya has been very welcoming.
I am charmed. Turkey has stolen my heart.
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