Under the veil: The burqa experiment

FilmFilm

According to surveys, Swiss citizens would prefer to ban full Islamic veils. But why? The burqa has its advantages, as a personal experiment shows. The hem of the headscarf cuts into my forehead. The veil tightens around my mouth, smelling of a spicy perfume – of a world I do not know. As I speak, the fabric in front of my mouth becomes damp. Air is scarce. On my body, I wear a floor-length, loose black dress; it feels like silk and barely covers the tips of my black boots. Only two dark eyes look back from the mirror, amid a black-covered face. When I laugh, nothing can be seen, except a twitch around the eyes. I am standing in «Dar El Manar», a Zurich shop for Islamic clothing. A Somali friend of the manager helps me into the wraps; the boss herself is not allowed to be filmed – her faith forbids it. The Somali woman laughs when I finally manage, rather poorly, to pull the black triangular cloth over my nose and tie it behind my head. ‘Like a moped rider, to cover the nose,’ she says, ‘not even your mother would recognise you now.’ I look in the mirror again and am briefly startled. ‘Yes, now you look like a very devout Muslim woman,’ the manager agrees, ‘but you know: here in Switzerland, hardly any women walk around as heavily veiled as you are now.’ How to blow your nose? I walk towards Paradeplatz, trying to stroll slowly around a bank building. I feel eyes lingering on me, sense the scrutiny from the corner of my eye, don't dare to look around. Why, I don't know. At the Paradeplatz tram stop, a passer-by mutters an ‘Oh, Jesus God!’ into the air beside me, while a second woman shakes her head. Many people glance at me only briefly and look away immediately. I study the tram timetables – and then it comes out of nowhere: ‘Fucking Muslims!’, an elderly gentleman hisses, ‘bloody Al-Qaeda!’ Then the man is gone, vanished into the crowd. My burqa flutters in the wind; I have to concentrate on not stepping on the hem. I sit on a bench in the middle of Paradeplatz, next to a young woman smoking a cigarette. I stare at the tips of my shoes, barely visible beneath the shimmering dress; the heavy fabric keeps me warm. Only my nose is running because of the wind hitting my covered face. I wonder how I could blow my nose – then realise I don't have a handkerchief anyway. The loss of female charm On the way to Münsterbrücke, I see myself in a shop window: my eyes in the narrow slit and the billowing gown. I am a different woman and, above all – by Western definitions – much less of a woman. No body shape, no recognisable face, no hair. A man I get into a conversation with at the end of my experiment says on the subject: ‘It’s a pity I can’t see more of you. You’re surely a young, pretty woman.’ Perhaps the aversion some men have to this non-body-hugging clothing stems from being deprived of the female charms they have long grown accustomed to in today's fashion. For a woman, covering up certainly has its advantages. However, when I finish my burqa test after two hours, I am happy to have the freedom to decide whether I want to do it. Or not. (Created: 21.10.2009, 7:23 pm) http://www.tagesanzeiger.ch/schweiz/standard/Unterm-Schleier-Der-BurkaTest/story/19680123