Uncovered

As a woman deeply fascinated by what comes to be deemed as both feminine and beautiful around this crazy world of ours, there’s no way I could resist a visit to Morocco without a small discussion of the veil.

As a general rule, bodies are covered in Morocco.

Many women cover their heads. Some cover their faces (with the exception of the eyes). Others (the minority) choose not to veil at all. Some women dress in all black. Others dawn brightly colored ensembles, with elegantly embroidered headscarves. The range is fascinating.

The idea of covering something has two main connotations for me. The first is to protect, safeguard or perhaps treasure and cherish (the way you tuck away dear letters from the past). The other is for reasons of shame and disgust and embarrassment (like a stain on the mattress or a messy room of the house).

The veil, in all its diversity, easily becomes a token symbol of the oppression and subordinate role of women in this region of the world (of course, there are many who would refute that statement). Indeed, it provoked many a comment from our own booty-short/spaghetti strap wearing clan on ship. Before porting, we were instructed to wear long sleeves and pants, and a great majority of our girls were scrambling to find something that would be appropriate for both weather and custom here in Morocco.

But as I was walking through the marketplace, observing the women in their extraordinary beauty, I kept thinking about the culture to which I was born, the one I call my own.

I chuckled a bit about how in many ways I felt more comfortable with the dress in this country as opposed to my own.

And I wondered.

I wondered if before a judgment can be passed on this culture, we might need a look at our own.

I wondered about the shame and inadequacy I so often battle when it comes to my body (and I know I’m not alone on that one).

I wondered if these carefully clothed women really felt protected and cherished in regards to their bodies? And I wondered how many of our own “liberated” women are free from disgust and embarrassment about their own?

I wonder that for all the ways the veil is seen as something foreign, concerning, and repressive, if our Victoria’s Secret display windows and 100 calorie packs (while not evil in and of themselves) are not another type of bondage, just as dangerous in it’s power to rob us of the ability to live as whole people; women comfortable in our own skin.

Perhaps for every woman on one side of the globe starving to see her culture changed or to let down her hair in the street, there’s a starving woman on the other side, belonging to a culture with attitudes towards women and their bodies that could use some unveiling of their own.

And then there was irony.

Love. Anna