Hijabs, bikinis and my flannel PJ’s

When I was in primary school I had a reoccurring dream in which I found myself in the schoolyard wearing only my flannel PJ’s. All of the other kids in the dream were fully dressed, decked out in their regular school gear. It was only me who was dying of shame, with absolutely nowhere to hide. At the time, I put it down to a loathing for all things flannel, which you can hardly disagree with. Little did I know, however, that there were other issues lurking deeper within than a mere distaste for flannel! After moving to Malawi my flannel PJ dream resurfaced, but this time it had evolved into the “shorts and no T-shirt dream”. This dream would invariably place me on the main street of the African town of Namwera, on market day, wearing only my shorts. I am actually breaking into a cold sweat just thinking about it. Again, there was only embarrassment and nowhere to hide.

Since coming to Jordan my PJ dream has not yet surfaced, but I imagine, if we stayed here long enough that it would. I know now, however, that when it does appear it will have metamorphosed into something, which would articulate the idealised norms of Jordanian society.

While I have been here, I have begun to think that perhaps I am not alone with my PJ dream. In fact, I think that many Jordanian women have my flannel PJ dream. Not of me wearing my flannel PJ’s, but their version of it. In their dream, instead of flannel PJ’s, they are standing on the main street without their heads covered or they are sitting at the Dead Sea wearing a pair of bikinis, like many of the Western tourists here. Such dreams usually occur for them after having watched Bay Watch on cable TV and after eating tahini dip which is a couple of days too old. There really should be a warning label on tahini for this reason!

There has been a lot of press in many countries, Western and non-Western, about whether women should be allowed to cover their heads at school, university, work and so forth. It is easy for us non-hijab wearing people to argue against head covering, because we feel absolutely no emotion about our heads being uncovered. Perhaps we should all be forced to spend a day in the schoolyard wearing only flannel PJ’s, as this would give us a sense of what it would feel like for many women to go out without their heads covered.

Since being in Jordan, Wendy and I have tried to adjust our attire as best we can to be culturally appropriate, although this is hard for us. This is not because we don’t want to or because we don’t like the clothing, but because we have no real emotional sense of what is required. Our sense of shame and appropriateness is different, and is coloured by our own culture. Because of our emotional handicap, (dare I say it, culturally challenged) we are doing our best to observe what the majority are wearing and follow suit. This is easier for me, as from my little observation and what I have read it is very similar to how people dress in Malawi where we have lived for so long. The Lonely Planet Guide, sums it up beautifully by saying that for a man in Jordan wearing shorts is like walking down the street in your underpants. Well then, I guess Jordan is not a place where you will encounter Superman, but I think that I can at least fit in.

Wendy, on the other hand has gone beyond her normal emotional and cultural levels of shame and embraced wearing the loose clothing, which covers her legs and arms, and which is typically worn by many Arab women here. She doesn’t yet wear a hijab, except when we are out in the open sun, because it is cooler. I imagine, however, that if we stayed here long enough she might begin to have her own flannel PJ dream in which she finds herself out and about without any head-covering.

In the end it appears to me the hijab is not just about meeting religious ideals, and even less about male domination or prudishness. It is worn from an internal sense of emotional and cultural appropriateness and who am I to judge what this is for another.