A Day at the Beach

On our last day in Alexandria, we went to the beach. I was feeling rather risqué in my mid-calf length skirt and high-necked t-shirt, with a shawl draped loosely around my hair and shoulders. This is a pretty standard outfit of mine, and happens to be the second favorite out of my three. Though a bit wild for wandering the streets of Cairo, this naughty little number caused even more of a scene at the beach. But why?

Obviously some one had been here before. Expectations and assumptions had been created in regards to foreigners at the beach. All eyes were upon us and people tittered at our presence even more than usual. I could only imagine the conversations: “Hey! Look at those foreigners! Maybe they are going to strip off their clothing and run around like lunatics in bikinis and speedos!”

I felt no sadness in disappointing the locals: they didn’t get a show from us. Some very tame basking in the sun (fully clothed), and a brief toe dabble in the crisp sea.

A few couples played in the waves, the women wearing lycra three or four-piece suits that covered their entire bodies. Most wore head veils as well.

Several paces down the beach, a large older woman suddenly charged into the water, breasts swinging wildly under a floating pink floral muu-muu. She plunged into the sea, crashing headlong into the waves, laughing hysterically. Her joy could not be contained, and the infectious and boisterous laughter presented itself as a gift to those within earshot.

As we sat in the sun, watching the waves, I watched a young woman walking along the beach. Of the one hundred or so people at the beach, she was only one of twenty that actually braved the chilly Mediterranean water. She pranced along the edge of the sea, delightedly self-conscious, listening to the tinny music of a cell phone that she carried in her hand. Long, balloon pants clung tightly to her legs with the dampness of salt water, and the layering of three shirts covered fair skin from neck to wrists. Her hair and neck were free of scarf or veil, and she was visibly enjoying the feel of ocean breezes upon her scalp and neck. The young woman held her head high, flipping her braided pigtails about in the wind, and occasionally looking up to smile at the bright sun. She walked the beach, eager to be noticed, and relishing the freedom of a bare, wet head beneath hot sun and strong winds.

The veil or headscarf (hijab) of Muslim cultures is a heavily debated topic. Did you realize that its origins are cultural in nature, and not a result of Islamic teachings? Many Westerners consider hijabs to be an infringement on the rights of women, a form of oppression, and see it as an indication of female subordination. However, is this viewpoint shared by Islam, the “owner“ of this cultural practice? An Islamic text that I read while in Alexandria described the wearing of hijab by Muslim women to prevent harassment and to distinguish themselves from others, as a form of protection. The text relayed that it is important for believers to wear clothing that communicates modesty and reserve in the situations in which they find themselves.

I remember reading a passage in “A Thousand Setting Suns,” written by Khaled Hosseini. Set in Afghanistan, the principal character was discussing her feelings in regards to wearing a burka. She stated that she enjoyed the invisibility and anonymity afforded by her burka. She felt safe from the stares of men, the dirt of the city, and felt comfortable in her veiled camouflage. I certainly remember wishing for a similar camouflage in India, so I can understand the sentiments.

In Turkey, Tunisia, and Tajikistan, all Muslim-majority countries, the wearing of a head coverings has been banned in government buildings, schools, and universities. France has also banned the wearing of hijabs in all educational facilities. Does this seem fair? Who has the right to decide that wearing head scarves is discrimination, that it impedes the rights and freedom of women? It amazes me that people in the world fight this tradition and custom - the motive behind this custom has become so distorted.

Please feel free to share your own thoughts, ideas, or knowledge.