Adventures of a Newlywed Hijabi

My father-in-law recently told me a story that was very poignant and really made me think about how we structure our reality and what constitutes as normal in our lives.

The story is about a man who buries people for a living. He is a poor man, like so many of those around him, and his only sustenance comes when someone loses their parent/spouse/friend. It is a tough life with limited joys for him and his family. It is difficult for them to know when their next meal will be and what they will eat. His children, however, only know that whenever their father goes to bury someone during the day, they have sweet rice in the evening.

Days turn into months and the cycle continues. The family struggles until someone in their community dies and that day, the grave-digger’s family has sweet rice for dinner.

One day, the children see their father preparing to go bury someone but without any of his usual vigour. They worry but their minds are focused on the treat they will have that night. Night falls, and their father returns but there’s no fire in the hearth and no treat on the stove. The children, disappointed, go to their father to ask what has happened and he starts weeping. He starts weeping because it is none other than their mother whom he has buried that day.

This story came after a conversation we were having about tow-trucks that park at locations on the highway where there’s a high volume of accidents. This is so that they are the first ones on the scene and thus get the job. Initially, that was an extremely selfish practice in my mind… to wait for someone to hurt themselves so that one may fill their pocket wtih dollars. But after hearing this story, I realized that my norms have been defined by my experiences. Alhumdullilah, I have never had to worry about where my next meal will come from or where I’ll sleep at night. I have always been able to find well-paying jobs and when I haven’t, I’ve always had my parents to rely on. And so, I cannot possibly imagine the lifestyle of someone whose sustenance depends on the whims of nature and luck.

Without the grave-digger, how would we bury our dead? Without the tow-truck, our highways would become lined with smashed up vehicles. While we may abhorr the premise of their profession, its function is essential for our reality. We are willing to accept and enjoy the results of their works but unable, and generally unwilling to acknowledge their motivations. After all, all professions are selfishly motivated- whether it is a banker who sits atop piles of money or the grave-digger who buries him- their ultimate goal is survival. Their definitions of surivival may be defined by their circumstances and experiences, but they just want to live in relative comfort.

We don’t always know what motivates others around us and often treat their decisions with disdain and cynicism because they transcend our defintion of normal. Waiting for someone to die so that one may have sweet rice may not be our definition of normal, but that does not, and should not mean that it is any less normal than our everyday actions and expectations.

As you can see, we’re taking a little break from my adventures and talking about a real-life problem.  

I’m taking a very interesting course this semseter called Religion and the Moral Imagination. The premise of the course is to differentiate between the act of looking and that of seeing. The fundamental difference between the two, as described by our prof, is that looking does not impact our soul. It does not reach out and makes us relate to those around us. Most importantly, it does not touch us. Seeing, on the other hand, requires us to open ourselves to feel the pain/joy of others around us. It requires us to feel what the other is feeling, even if it means losing something of ourselves in that pain.

 While I disagree with a lot of ideas that our prof has presented in this course, I see the merit of this distinction. After all, if we “saw” that others around us were in trouble, that they needed help or even if they had to share some joyous news- it would take our time and more importantly, our energy, of which we have very little to spare.

For me the realization of this distinction is the first step towards becoming a more discerning individual. To be able to see someone, to see their pain and their happiness, is to share and celebrate the commonalities we share. We, all of us, have our joys and our sorrows- both of which are often hard to contain within the confines of our psyches. Perhaps if we “see” someone through their moments of need, we shall have the support of their discernment when our time comes around.

Actually, we’re going back in time…

Our destination, previous to Venice, was Rome and that is another amazing city you definately want to see in the future. The interesting thing about Rome is that it is a city made for daylight. During the day, it could be one of the most majestic and grand cities you’ll see… however, as soon as night falls, it becomes reminiscent of ghetto neighborhoods found throughout the world.

Another amazing thing about the city is that the subway stations are pretty dingy…but time and again, you’ll step out of them and see something that will take your breath away. Of all the cities we visited, we ended up walking the most in Rome since the subway system isn’t as extensive as either London or Paris and the city is at least 5x the size of Venice and every corner, every street had some sight that would wow us.

For me, the BEST sight of the whole trip was the Collesseum in Rome. The history embedded in those walls grabs you by the throat as soon as you walk in. The Vatican with its grandeur was another amazing site you’ll definately want to see. Besides the big attractions, you have the fountain Trevi, various churches, the Pantheon, and the Obelisks found through the city are also worth seeing.

My husband and I arrived in Rome around 9:00 PM. EVERYONE had warned us that Rome wasn’t a safe city and that we should practice caution there and so we were a little nervous. However, we thought we were well-prepared with the exact directions to which bus/subway to take, where to get off and where to go from there… little did we know that we were visiting Rome. From the airport which was far outside the city, we look a bus to the subway station where upon arriving, we found out that the subways had stopped running and the last bus going to the cities were leaving any minutes. We had NO idea which bus to take since we’d expected to take the subway. Worse yet, none of the bus drivers speak English there. Scarily enough, this random stranger heard us asking and told us to get on a certain bus. Afraid that we’d miss the bus and be stranded at the increasingly erie subway station, we did so although netiher of us had any idea what to do next. The bus kept driving and driving… and then, the same stranger told us that our stop was next, got off the bus with us and melted into the shadows leaving us in a completely deserted area that looked like an alley in Karachi (I haven’t really ever seen one but its how imagine it’d look like). So we started walking cause we looked like stationary targets with bulls-eyes painted on our foreheads with our suitcases and confused demeanor. We walked up the street until we found a hotel where the conceirge spoke English. Luckily, he knew the location of our hotel and gave us directions and after walking for another 20 minutes, we were able to find our hotel. Now the Ambra Palace (our hotel) was AMAZING! Our room was huge with a gorgeous bathroom outfitted with a rainhead shower, a bidet and double sinks. Too exhausted to do anything but order dinner, we had cold pasta and crashed till Fajr time.

In the morning, we were out the door by 7:30. Breakfast was included in our stay and it was a sumptuous banquet with all breakfast foods imaginable. Having eaten our fill, we stepped out of the hotel and recieved the shock of our lives. The same area that had felt so sinister and menacing at night had transformed into a bustling busy commercial street.

Our first stop was the Colloseum and that was phenomenal. The walls of the structure seem to echo the passage of time and the voices of the past. The ancient walls of the Collosseum are testimony to the passage of time and the havoc it can wreak and you are hit by the utter majesty of the stadium as soon as you step out of the subway station.

So we stepped out of the subway, walked out into the sunlight and there was the Colloseum in front of us. It was a fabulous sight. It had taken us some time to get to the Colloseum so we were ready for a snack by then. We stopped and got a biscottti (cookie) at a corner stall when these men dressed like gladiators waylaid us and wanted to know if we wanted to get our picture taken. Us being the innocent tourists, we agreed. Having taken the picture, they then demanded that we give them ten euros…. we were in shock at this con. They made 3 euros off of us and left us a lot wiser in the ways of Rome.

We got lucky and decided to take a tour which allowed us to by-pass a 4 hour lineup and we were through in minutes. The inside of the Colloseum is amazing. The whole stadium is in ruins but when you walk through and see the seats, you can almost hear a crowd cheering, lions roaring and the clang of swords. Our tour-guide was amazing. He painted such a vivid picture of the era when the Colloseum was alive- a picture rife with hope and despair, courage, valor  and cowardice and most importnatly, of a people for whom a battle for life and death could be reduced to mere entertainment.

After the Colloseum, which was a rather intense experience, we decided to just meander around. Our first stop was the Trevi fountain, potentially one of the most beautiful fountains I have ever seen. The detail in the carvings are beyond description, you have to see them for yourself. We also saw the Pantheon and the Egyptian obelisk that stands outside it and climbed the Spanish steps to the top.

To be continued…

I realize I have been unfaithful to this blog… and for that, I hang my head in shame.

In truth, the adventures that I experience as a newlywed hijabi leave very little room for the narration of my exploits but alas, friendship and a keen sense of responsibility (as well as a nagging voice in my conscience and on my voicemail) leave me no choice but to make time.

I won’t start with the wedding because that was not an adventure, it was a marathon. I must say that I do have a lingering regret for the fact that I remember none of the fesitivities but alhumdullilah, I am married to this amazing guy who is the light of my life and that is more than enough for me.

After the wedding, thus, the next big adventure was the honeymoon. Alhumdullialh, we were blessed in being able to go to Europe for about 2 1/2 weeks and like every star-struck newlywed, I’ll say that they were the best 2 1/2 weeks of my life up till that point. Seeing the history of London, the grandeur of Rome, the beauty of Venice and the romance of Paris with someone who had the same appreciation for the sights and sounds was an unforgettable experience.

The story I’ll tell today is about Venice, simply because that was my favorite city. If you’ve never been to Venice, I have one piece of advice for you, GO! But… go with your husband/wife because subhanAllah, it really is THE most romantic city in the world. If you’re not familiar with the history of the city, it is basically built on limestone caves and surrounded by water. The main road is the Grand Canal and the little roads are little canals that transect the city. The most common mode of transportation is the gondola, a long boat or boats in general. All important services such as police, ambulance even funerary transportation are on boats.

Within the city, you’ll find places such as the St. Marc’s Square where you can sit and sip some coffee and listen to the musicians while you watch the sun set behind St. Marc’s cathedral. It really is a beautiful city, full of little streets with stores selling handblown glass made on the nearby island of Murano, artisans selling their crafts and painters selling gorgeous works of art on canvas. If you want and have time, you can go and visit the tiny island of Murano where world famous hand-made blown glass artists have shops up and down the canal or Burano, where famous Italian lace is made. You can also take a ride on the gondola where the gondolier will sing you a song in Italian that you probably won’t understand but enjoy nonetheless. The best time for a ride is near twilight just as the sun is setting and the water is shimmering with the bleeding colors of the sunset and the evening sky.

Food in the city is plentiful and diverse, although expensive. You can opt for a casual meal at one of the pizzaerias that abound in all Italian cities or you can go formal and have dinner at one of the waterside restaurants where you can have a table beside the water with a candle sitting in a squat little bowl with a boat rocking beside you. The best pasta I have ever had in my life was in Italy. The taste is just so amazingly different than anythinng we’d ever have in North America. Seafood is another good choice and if you combine pasta and seafood, you have one fabulous meal.

We arrived in Venice late afternoon. We had to take a bus from the airport and being confused tourists, we didn’t know where to get off. Unfortunately, in the shuffle of getting off, we lost our camera case with our spare batterey and SD card but it wasn’t a huge deal. We had the bigger memory card in the camera. Although exhausted, we couldnt’ wait to the see the city so we left our luggage in our hotel room and went off to explore. My first glimpse of Venice was as the room rose over the Santa Maria della Salute and it was a sight I’m not likely to ever forget. The Grand Canal runs through the whole of the city with bridges every 20 feet or so to make crossing easier. My husband and I stood at the bridge and just absorbed the feel of the city. Its amazing how easy it is to get used to the sound of oars rather than the roar of engines and how quiet the night sounds without the slamming of car doors.

After walking around for a bit, we decided to have dinner at a waterside restaurant. It was amazing- great food, awesome company and a superb atmosphere. Even the weather cooperated with us giving us a clear sky with a full moon and lots of stars. After dinner, we walked around the city some more, had some gelatto, Italian ice-cream, for dessert and decided to call it a night.

Our second day in Venice was our last full day in the city since we hadn’t been able to get too much time there due to flight issues. We decided to make the most of it. Waking up at 6:00 AM (if you knew me, you’d understand what a feat that is) we were out of the hotel by 7:00. Our first stop was St. Marc’s cathederal, just to see it in the light of day. It is a stunning example of Italian architecture.

The square itself is stunning, with its enclosing walls, the super expensive shops and tons and tons of pigeons. After St. Marc’s, we made our way to Murano, where we did some shopping for our families which took up the rest of the day. On our way back, we stopped off at St. Marc’s again to see the area at twilight and have supper. On our last night in Venice, we just strolled up and down the Grand Canal, peeking into stores, stopping here and there for snacks and trying to cross every bridge we saw. It was awesome.

We had a funny but scary moment near the end of the day when we were both exhausted. We decided to sit by the water to wait for our bus, which was of course, a boat. The way the canal works is that there are steps leading down intot the water, with the first 4 steps above water level. We were sitting on the first step when out of sheer tiredness, we both fell asleep. If falling asleep in a strange city, by the water, as a tourist is not bad enough…. neither of us knows how to swim. So you can imagine our relief upon waking up and realizing that neither of us had fallen over and drowned.

We left Venice on our third day with lots of glass , a painting and a journal full of amazing memories. Although it wasn’t the first city we visited, I had to start with it because it had the biggest impact on me. I hope, one day, inshAllah you too will visit the city and see for yourself the city that words couldn’t possible do justice.