Life Lessons in Travel Part 4: Learning in the Middle East
Lynne Fukuda
Instructor of Anthropology
Central Texas College
E-mail: lfukuda@hawaii.edu
You may be wondering when I will discuss my travels in America. I shall. I only want to leave the best for the last. My story here begins with my discovery of the Middle East in my late college years. This region of the world is in the news almost daily, and yet, the myths, misconceptions, prejudices, and the wrong types of interpretations of the people, culture, religion, and history and behavior all contribute to making matters worse than better. It is much to my sadness and to my mum’s sadness that many people in the United States have a preconceived notion of the people of the Middle East.
Some believe that all Middle Eastern peoples are dark, swarthy and sinister. They also believe that the women all wear veils and floor-length robes and lack basic education. Some say that Middle Eastern men are all religious fanatics and are polygamous. Others say that the Middle East consists of deserts and no water with nomads wondering about with camels. Even seeing photographs and video clips of actual dwellings, cities, and schools do not instill the idea that Middle Eastern people are very modern, highly educated in most places, can range from very light to dark like many Americans, live in different environments form European-like climates to the Sahara Desert, and speak a number of dialects of Arabic along with other languages.
When I first stepped off the plane in Istanbul after many decades of seeing only Europe, we were transported into another world. Although very modern, the great city of Istanbul was a little like Europe and yet, vastly different. One of the things that struck us was that it seemed to be a world dominated by men. Those who worked in the tourist counters, shops, and other businesses were all men, wearing various uniforms or suits. The language that they spoke also sounded very foreign and strange. The music reminded us of the music one imagined playing in the Arabian Nights.
“This is a Muslim country,” my mother informed me.
I nodded, pulling down my dress as best as I could, although it was well below the knee. I pulled on my cardigan for fear of offending some religious men and women with my lack of modesty. “Do I have to wear a scarf or veil?” I asked.
My mother shook her head. “The Ataturk, the great leader of Turkey, called the Father of Turkey decide a long ago that women would not wear the veil and they would be treated as equals. This is a very modern Muslim country.”
I nodded, seeing brilliant scarves covering some older women’s heads, and seeing an occasional veiled women (later identified as Saudi Arabians) and seeing women in colorful, but modest dresses that were well below the knee as in the days when I attended Catholic mass in the sixties in Rome.
The people of Turkey were curious to see foreigners who were not exactly the image of Americans. They peered at us unabashedly and began to ask where we were from. “Hawaii,” I said, wondering if we were even drawn on their map.
“Hawaii!!!!” a man began to dance about gleefully, “Hawaii!!! Hawaii !!! Yes, I know Hawaii. We watch a show of Hawaii.”
I frowned slightly. I knew they had television sets and were modern. There were movie theaters about and there were the ever-present videos but I knew nothing about foreign programs in countries other than in Europe. “Which one do you watch?”
This was the eighties and I was unprepared as to the program that was broadcast in this quaint city. I heard the man say, “Hawaii Five-O. Five zero!” He gestured with his hands, showing his five fingers and then, with his two hands making a circle.
I gasped, realizing that this man believed that Hawaii was still in the sixties and early seventies and had not progressed at all. The image of the good-old Hawaii I most loved and missed permeated my thoughts. I did not wish to destroy his image of the Hawaii he loved and longed for. I nodded politely. “Yes, Hawaii Five-O.”
“So is Hawaii as beautiful as it is on that show?” he asked, innocently.
I glanced at my mother and nodded. I left out any comments about bad traffic, rising crime, drugs, prostitution, violence, gangs, muggings, dirty beaches and polluted waters, and overcrowding and overdevelopment that had already destroyed the Hawaii I once loved. I smiled a little sadly. “Yes, it is still a special place. I do love Hawaii.”
My mother nodded with an overly enthusiastic smile. “It is very beautiful with the best beaches and best places. Good people.”
The man continued his interrogation, ignoring his duty of being a waiter. Another man arrived, also a waiter wishing to join in on the conversation. Soon, there were other listeners nearby, curiously eavesdropping on our conversation. I felt the need to be an ambassador of Hawaii, to let them know that Hawaii was indeed such a beautiful place and could be still. I left out the overcrowding and overdevelopment. “It is a little more modern now. The film was shot a while back,” I added, not wishing to fib.
The waiters left, shaking their hips in a mock-hula, their eyes aglow with their own glamorous images of a land with jewel-like island, white-sand beaches, beautiful women who were lightly clad, and the music of Hawaii. I suppose in their restricted land where women dressed very modestly and would never don a bikini or dance exotically with the exception of belly dancers, and stretched out in sandy beaches and sparkling oceans that it would be paradise.
I felt good relating to my new acquaintances of my land, the Hawaii I loved and already missed. I also felt happy that the images of Hawaii for the people of Turkey were still untouched and beautiful. I am certain that seeing Turkey that was the first step into my journeys into the Middle Eastern or Muslim countries too was also shrouded by wonder and beauty. Just as I learned in Asia how much America was admired, I learned in the Middle East how much Hawaii was loved. I did not know then that Turkey too, boasts one of the most beautiful beaches and resorts, the prettiest, jewel-like places on their coast that rival the islands of Greece. Yet, the lore of Hawaii, the legend of the paradise in the Pacific enchanted the people of Turkey, many who did not have the means to travel beyond their equally beautiful shores.
A lesson I learned in Turkey as we shopped in the bazaar, or the shopping arcades of old, was of Turkish business practices and the importance of loyalty and trust. Perhaps, this is why the Turkish were known to be world-class traders for hundreds of years during the Byzantine Empire and beyond. Rich from natural resources, good trade routes, excellent business practices, and endowed with the blinding array of jewels, gold, metals, textiles, and other goods, Turkey was indeed a place of wonder. I was all at once transported into the world of the Arabian Nights, where flying carpets awaiting and mysterious merchants haunted the streets.
Instead of merchants clad in robes, I saw young boys dressed formally in white shirts and dark pants with polished leather shoes. They were in their early teens, or even younger and I learned, were apprentices to merchants. Many merchants trained young apprentices from their early years for their vocations. The young boys were often made to stand outside of the shops and bring in customers. It was part of their training as they learned to advertise their wares. Once the customers arrived instead, they were sent away to fetch hot tea from the teashops.
“Please, come in and look around. Do take your time, and have some tea and chat with us,” was the usual greeting a merchant in Turkey, and in other Middle Eastern countries said to their customers.
The Middle Eastern hospitality, combined with the need to let the customers feel like valued guest who could relax was the norm. There were comfortable chairs, sometimes with plush cushions. Looking about at the wares, our eyes were dazzled by the array of jewelry. Gold, silver, gems, and many works of art were displayed. There was an old fashioned weight that reminded me of the one the statue of justice carried while blindfolded. No matter how much work went into the pieces of jewelry, it was ultimately the weight that decided the price. Middle Eastern merchants were honest to the bone and did not charge more but often less for their items. No matter how fancy the item, it was also set by weight.
Before the business transaction, there was the tea and chat. The tea was served in clear, glass cups that were hot to the touch. Most were served with pieces of mint or pre-flavored with mint or apples. The glass cups were set on elaborately carved plates of copper or brass or sometimes silver. Sometimes there was a sweet flavored with honey.
I loved taking tea, having a tradition of having English High Tea, Japanese green tea and snacks, American tea with cakes, and European (French and Italian) coffee with sweets. It was a pure delight to enter a shop and be offered some tea, sometime at three different places, although at times we needed to refuse after being waterlogged by too many offers, to sit down and rest our tired feet and to take a sip of tea.
The conversations that ensued were also pleasant. Although personal, the merchants did not enquire into private things. They often asked about Hawaii, curious and happy to meet someone from that paradise-like place. They also gave us good travel advice and also advice on how to buy goods that also included things that were not jewelry.
Although we did not buy many pieces, the courtesy was always the same. The welcome, the kindness, the offer of tea and the chance to chat. There was no hint of irritation at our slowness to choose, in fact, it seemed that the merchants were disappointed if we finished our business transactions too soon. “Stay a bit more, have another glass of tea,” they would say, brimming with hospitality. Perhaps, this cultural practice harked back to a time when travelers, buyers, and merchants traveled long distances to buy or trade their goods. A chat and tea, with a comfortable to seat to rest ones legs was a great comfort and great business practice. It was the same for us, traveling thousands of miles to shop in the bazaar, we were the travelers from lands far off, bringing in exotic information of our lands, that were valuable to the merchants of old.
I learned too that they trusted their customers and one another. “If you do not have enough money to buy it now, you can take the piece and mail me the money,” more than one merchant said to us.
“But what if your customer disappears with the jewelry and does not pay the rest?” I asked.
The merchant nodded sadly. “Yes, that has happened quite a few times, but we try to trust our customers. We believe in them and hope for the best.”
I nodded, frowning and angry that bad customers would take advantage of such trusting merchants. “What about credit cards?”
The merchants nodded. “We do take them but if the customer insists on paying us later, we allow them.”
It was in the same way that groups of merchants defended one another and trusted one another. “They will not cheat you, they are good people,” the merchants all seem to say when my mother questioned the integrity of the goods people sold. It was an unspoken pact that merchants would defend the honor of another. Everyone knew everyone and I suspected all gold merchants, all jewelers and all rug merchants knew that business habits of one another and placed their trust.
It was not only among merchants, but the tightly knit religious community of Muslims that I discovered this solid trust. Unbroken even by betrayal, Muslim people of many countries, especially in the Middle East live on trust and are loyal to one another. Betrayed, distrustful, and losing faith in my own people after hearing of conmen, identity theft, shoplifters, druggies, and other criminal types, I had lost the belief in trusting another person blindly. Perhaps, it is the Muslim faith that allows many to place such strong trust and to have such unshakable loyalty to one another. Yet, I knew that it was also a part of their culture.
What are we without trust? If we live in a world where we must be constantly on guard and wonder if our neighbors will rob us or betray us, if even our own family members cannot be worthy of our trust, where will we be? With a strong sense of trust and loyalty, we can build communities where we feel safe and protected. If we are trusted so much, even if we may not have been worthy of such trust, we might be tempted or persuaded to be worthy of such as blessing.
I wonder now, in this unhappy world where terrorists lurk that the strong bond of trust has become tattered. Have people become divided, wondering if someone amongst them has joined a dangerous fundamentalist group or has been working to do something that goes against the teachings of Allah. I only know that I trust and feel safe among the people of the Middle East for many people are good and kind and live an honest life. The hospitality has not changed, and although there may be a general mistrust of Americans because of their policies in the Middle East, we will be trusted with respect and kindness in spite of it all.
Another lesson I learned in the Middle East was modesty. Growing up in the years following Vatican II, where there were major changes in the Catholic Church, I was still influenced by the old order and the strict teachings and behaviors of my beloved Roman Catholic Church. As a child in Europe, women were still modest, especially in Italy where women covered their heads in church and regularly wore ankle-length dresses. No women dared to wear pant for they were thought immodest and even young girls wore dresses that were below the knee, similar in fashion to the girls in Latin American countries. Even with the advent of the mini-skirt, it was greatly frowned upon to appear in such dresses and the church was off-limits to such clothing.
My mum once wore a red mini-dress, the most stylish of dresses at the height of fashion to Rome and unfortunately into the Vatican. Covering her hair with her scarf modestly and wearing a cardigan, she was still rejected by the nuns at the entrance. A few admiring priests or brother let my mother in at the second attempt, and finally after being thrown out the church twice, a kindly guide placed my mother in the middle of her guided tour group and hid my mother to give her the chance to see the inside of the Vatican.
In the Middle East, it seemed like Rome in the years before Vatican II, not radically conservative, but just modest. In Turkey, Egypt, and Tunisia, the more modern of the Middle Eastern countries, women wore colorful silk scarves on their heads but no black veil and wore old-fashioned, long-sleeved dresses that were ankle-length with covered shoes. I saw no heavy veils that resembled curtains or robes that spread out like the curtains on confession booths.
It was not only dress, but also their attitudes that reflected modesty. Women did not openly display their appearances or flirt with men. Instead, they walked among them and interacted with one another quietly. Sometimes, a young girl with her sweetheart would smile shyly. I felt at ease. America had progressed too rapidly and glamorized sex and immoral behaviors with its influence of the media. Europe too, had become much too modern and lacking in modesty.
I learned that in modesty, there was a shyness and a quiet beauty. This trait brought out more respect from others than with boldness and flirtation. I admired the shy young women and the quiet older women and knew that life in the Middle East although perhaps not as free as for women in the Western world, gave women a place where they could seek a safe haven. Many walked with other women and were seldom alone. Men respected women and kept their distance. In our world, women are prey to sexual predators, rapists, harassment, and other forms of sex abuse. It is perhaps, a price of the freedom we have, living alone, having careers, being away from our families, and not having a women’s only place to give us safe havens from men.
I also learned that I was not so strange, desiring to be modest and quiet as I have always been from childhood. Raised in the dark times of Catholicism, influenced by the elders of Europe, and brought up strictly in our family traditions, I was not such a misfit. Modesty was admired and respected. I also learned that being this was a way to respect Allah. Just as good Catholics live with strict morals as a way to revere God, the Muslims too, lived their daily lives worshipping Allah and trying their best to live good, moral lives.
What many foreigners see the veils as shackles and the suppression of women may not always be what they believe. The invisible veils such as modest dress, colorful scarves worn on heads so that they resemble Catholic women instead of Muslim women of old, are the veils of modesty and faith. When the men see this, they respect it and the women are protected, living out their roles as women of their faith.
Another lesson I learned in the Middle East was the appreciation of works of art. Although the Muslim religion forbids the creation of idols and human-like figures, the art form has created geometric designs and works of art in architecture, and many other art forms in a rich array of pleasures to the senses. This love of art was evident everywhere. With the least amount of freedom to express art forms and artwork, the artists themselves honed their senses and sharpened their imagination in order to create things of beauty.
Muslim architecture is revered throughout the world because there is the clever marriage of form and function, of beauty and practicality. Showing more without showing all was the way devout Muslims expressed themselves. Like beautiful women fully covered by veils heavy robes, the art forms too were things of beauty shrouded by centuries-old rigid rules that dictated what could be expressed and what could not be expressed, and yet, less was more. Using their senses to the utmost, the artists, building courtyards, painting tiles, creating mosaics, sculpting fountains and creating religious objects and mosques brought out the best of what they had. It is certain that after the Turkish people of Istanbul decided to uncover the wondrous treasures, the painting beneath the Muslim symbols in the famous Blue Mosque in order to reveal what was once painted over by zealous conquerors wishing to wipe out the religious influence of another era found much more beauty in what lay below, I know that the art forms inspired by the Muslims too merited much notice.
Like the modestly dressed women of the Middle East, the creations themselves were more precious, more beautiful because they were so mysterious and revealed much more. Less was indeed, much more. It is similar to the Eastern views of having less and living a more simple live to achieve Nirvana or the heights of Heaven. Even in many religious Christian orders, less is often more. Distancing oneself from worldly concerns, discarding worldly desires and material goods gives one more personal wealth.
I love the stark simplicity of the Middle East; its people, its environment, its religion, and its culture. I marvel that we have become so modern, so materialistic, and so obsessed by too many things that we have forgotten to keep in touch with our past, with our ancestors, with our simple origins. I still see that simplicity, perhaps due to lack of modernization or due to the stubborn clinging to old ways. In the countryside of Egypt and Turkey, in Morocco and Tunisia, the country folk still live out their lives in the traditional manner. Herding sheep or goat, tending to the fields, and fishing with their simple equipment, images of the agricultural past flood my senses as my train or boat passes by.
The marketplaces too, hark back to the past, devoid of many modern conveniences, except for the harsh lighting in the gold shops that show off their wares with their metals glowing from afar. The rug merchant still sits patiently in his shop, awaiting a customer. The copper merchant still stands about eagerly, showing off his wares by polishing them one by one. The women in pairs stop to examine the goods and nod. Some bargaining for a better price. It is what people of Europe did in the Middle Ages and it is still done today in the marketplaces of the Middle East.
When I spot some women in full veils or burkas and dressed in dark robes, I am transported back to the time of the Bible when Christ was still a child. It is this devotion, this patient, silent, and strong type of women that populate the Muslim world. It is the strong faith that surrounds the people of the Middle East as much as Judaism and Christianity held the people in the time of the Bible. There is nothing strange, only that the passage of time has been slower here than in most. And yet, highly educated women, with more degrees than in Western countries thrive in many parts of the Middle East. Doctors, scientists, businesswomen, and world-class career types abound here too. It is the stark contrast of the traditional country folk, with the ultra-modern city folk that confuses many visitors and observers. But it is not strange to me, having traveled throughout the world and having observed such contrasts everywhere. Old-fashioned womenfolk in dark dresses and black scarves, Catholic widows of the Mediterranean still lived when I was a child. Simple farmers and shepherds dotted the countryside of Europe while I was growing up. Women in traditional kimonos, thousands of years old in style still thrived in the Japan I knew.
In our modern, 21st century world, especially in America, progress is much admired and modernization almost forced on others. And yet, who had yet to say how good this would be? Is it not the respect of the past, the wish to preserve time-honored traditions, and to bring the morals and values of old intact that will ensure a better tomorrow?
I still recall the words I read in the novel of Rebecca by Daphne DuMarier where Rebecca, the dead, almost sainted wife, who was in fact an immoral, cruel, vain woman who nearly destroyed Mr. DeWinter, the heroine’s mysterious husband. The best friend of Mr. DeWinter remarked when the young Mrs.DeWinter lamented that she was not elegant, high-classed or well brought up like the late Mrs.DeWinter who was a socialite. The best friend replied to this effect, “A man admirers a woman who has honesty and modesty more than anything else, more than physical beauty or charm.”
These words describe my feelings for the people and the culture of the Middle East. Although there are fanatical individual, fundamentalists who verge on insanity, and terrorists who hover about, wanting to go back to the old ways when religion dictated every bit of everyone’s lives, many of the people of the Middle East are kind, simple people who are devoted to Allah, trust one another, give alms and do good to others, are loyal, and appreciate purity and modesty in their everyday lives and in one another.
Praying five times and cleansing themselves just as many times, the Middle Eastern people have also not forgotten to make times to pray and give thanks. Businesses literally shut down, and guides, servants, and many other people disappear for those times to devote themselves to a higher being. I am certain that Christian and Jews of old were just as devoted in the past. Even Hindus and Buddhists still show that same devotion. The Muslims taught me that it is not wrong to take time out of one’s busy life to pray. Without prayer, perhaps, we will never have respite from the craziness and the terrible unhappiness of this mixed up world.
I learned in my travels in the Middle East, that my shyness, my modesty, my old-fashioned sense, and my traditional Catholic upbringing were nothing to be ashamed of. It mattered little that I was not modern and lacked the polish of young women who were brought up in a brighter, more optimistic time. The love of simplicity, the desire to strive to live an honest life, and the wish to continue to believe in others has always been the purpose of my daily life. This is the life I had almost forgotten when I fell away from the church while growing up in Hawaii. In my early life, I was engulfed by churches in Europe and worshipped freely with devout folk in every country.
Now, with a simple prayer of thanks to God, I kneel, always mindful that life is a blessing. When sad things occur, such as the conflict between the Western world and the Middle East, I think of my religion to carry me through the darkness in search of light. It was my journeys across the Middle East that taught me to believe more in my own God. It mattered not that gods were different in other lands, the God in ones heart may always be the same.
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