Under the Burqa: Part 2

Hairstyling, Self-Immolation

         I am excited as I walk down the dusty alley, and I don't know what to expect.   It feels the same as when I've been on my way to hidden guerrilla camps in North Iraq, or to meet with armed gang members in Port-au-Prince, Haiti.   I always feel very lucky to see something that most people aren't allowed to see or something that is in some way forbidden.

         The alley is in Kabul, Afghanistan, but I'm not about to meet with the Taliban, Al Qaeda operatives, or drug-smuggling warlords.   I'm on my way to a beauty salon.

         Accompanying me are Mrs. Aziz, a matronly teacher draped head to toe in white, a young male translator, and a Connecticut native named Kimberly Mikenis who has coordinated today's visit for the organization.   We arrive at a metal door and knock.

           It swings open, and we are welcomed with a broad smile by Mrs. Gulwateh, who runs the beauty salon.   She has offered her time to teach young disabled women a trade.   It seems an odd trade to have in a country where women rarely show their faces in public, but there is a market for it.

         Before long, I am snapping away at two students sitting in front of a big mirror, being worked on by Mrs. Gulwateh and her assistant.   Other students quietly observe.   One girl's whole face is being made up a stark pale color, with her mouth, eyes and brows contrasting boldly.   The other is having her hair done, and it is the first uncovered head of an Afghani female that I've seen.   

         She hesitates before taking her scarf off in front of me, and I feel intrusive.   It's a big deal in a place where, not so long ago, it was illegal for a woman to be outside without a burqa and a male family member(this has not changed in many rural areas, a fact that should be known by those under the impression that women of Afghanistan have been somehow liberated).   The girl is prepared as a bride would be, with intricate patterns woven and teased into her hair.   Little flowers and fine lines of bright glittery green are added.

         For me to witness such a thing is a rarity, and I feel honored.   I am told that these photos cannot be distributed to Afghans in the area, for fear of repercussions by those who might violently oppose what is happening in this little salon.

         The sheepish girl eventually smiles, and it is one of the high points of my trip.   Now I'll write about a low point.

         In the Western province of Herat, I see two types of patients at a hospital's burn ward for females, and both categories speak to the progress of women's rights.  

         First, there are young women who were injured when a school for girls was bombed.   Second, there are women of various ages who have taken part in the cultural phenomenon of self-immolation, which has left hundreds killed or disfigured in the past few years.   Growing numbers of women in Afghanistan are pouring gasoline on their bodies and setting themselves on fire.

         There is an intense isolation that befalls many Afghani women.   Often a girl (whose only real contact has been with her family) is married, and immediately cut off from everyone but the family of her new husband.   Domestic abuse is rampant in Afghanistan, as is poverty, lack of education, and the many other problems females can face all over the world.  

         Twenty-five years of multiple conflicts has added to the problems.   There is a huge population of war widows, for whom there aren't many prospects of making a living(in Kabul alone has 50, 000).   Thousands of Afghanis have lived as refugees for several years in Iran, where life for women is less restrictive.   The effect on a women returning to Afghanistan can be traumatic.

         Women feel they have no escape from their depression and no outlet for any feelings at all, so they burn themselves.   For many, self-immolation is seen as the only way to end the pain, and it's the only form of protest available.

         There are six such women in the burn ward, but I am told that most who do this never make it to a hospital, and the incident may not even be reported.   They either live in rural areas too distant to be transported, cannot not pay for medical treatment, or their families keep them at home to cover up what they've done.   As is the case with female victims of almost any sort, a violent act is followed by shame and the social stigma of being associated with the violent act.

         I see females from ages 12 to their mid thirties, lying down with bandages covering most of their bodies.   A doctor tells me that because of the high rate of infection in burn cases, most of them really have no chance of survival.   The ones who live will be horribly scarred, may have lost fingers or limbs, or will perhaps be blind.  

         After a slow, painful process, and with a burqa covering them, they'll probably appear normal at some point.   When removed, though, no amount of makeup or hair styling will allow them to ever forget burning themselves, or the isolation that caused it, and is shared by so many women of Afghanistan.