Girl in the Tangerine Scarf

Girl in the Tangerine Scarf

Composed by Mohja Kahf, the Girl in the Tangerine Scarf informs the tale of Khadra Shamy, a Syrian-American young woman going back to her home town of Indianapolis for the first time in a number of years. Many of the book recalls to her youth and very early adult years throughout the 1970s and 1980s, as she works out concerns of religious beliefs, identification, racial discrimination, and belonging. Sprinkled with this, is her return to the neighborhood at the age of 28 as a publication photographer doing a tale on minority spiritual areas in America.

Covering a long period of time and a range of geographical places, the story follows Khadra's spiritual courses, from being the little girl employed at a Dawah Center, with a "rise of spiritual austerity" in her very early teenagers, a "neoclassical stage" of typical knowing as she grows older, a sense of disillusionment and unpredictability as she pertains to question the monolithic picture of Islam she matured with, and eventually reaching a settlement or middle ground as she pertains to feel even more secure in her own spiritual course while valuing the neighborhood where she was raised.

The book likewise incorporates an excellent variety of political concerns, mirrored in local communal relations (Sunni-Shi'a stress within the Muslim neighborhood, and KKK physical violence and various other racial discrimination directed at the Muslim area from some others in the city) in addition to worldwide concerns (the Iranian transformation, the line of work of Palestine, the dictatorship in Syria, and so on).

Personal Reflections

I adored reading this book. There's something specifically beautiful about reading a story with numerous resonating experiences. Numerous of likely structured novels, being particular to the experience of being a young Muslim woman in America, are seldom any good in current literature. There were a number of occasion that actually got me or made me laugh aloud, not a lot due to the fact that of their humor (although there was a lot of that too), however simply due to the proximity the incidents had with real life and how they made me feel connected with the book. Quotes at the start of each chapter-- from sources as varied as clinical writing on pests, historic discussing Indiana, Qur'anic citations, and mystic poetry-- include additional thought-provoking memories form the read.

I discovered Kahf's composing to be appealing, genuine and truthful, and typically really comical. I commonly felt the young Khadra's confusion over the inflections of being a Muslim and having an American identification as she comes across individuals who challenge her fertilizations of both, and an older Khadra's depression as she fights Muslims who omit her or demean her due to the fact that she's a female, in spite of her earnest and repetitive accounts of spiritual concepts developing the exhaustive females' rights in Islam.

Reading through the book, I could not help but relate, positively and negatively, to many of the values and cultural structures that were discussed in the book. A good example of this can be the overall demeaning attitude of people based on Khadra's gender. Even though, Islam - I reiterate - as a religion gives the most extensive rights to women - and, in my opinion if the foundational framework for all constitutions of women's rights anywhere in the world (I even believe many of the feminist viewpoints were derived originally from rights given to women in Islam) - there still seems to be a regular battle for Muslim women anywhere in the world and even within Islamic communities. I personally believe men and women need to be balanced in nature - not necessarily always equal - but that women are always stronger in certain aspects and men are always stronger in other aspects, but there is still a vast void in many minds with regards to women's role in a Muslim society. One of the biggest things that bother me is the word 'hijabi' that is used to describe many Muslim women who choose to follow a certain dress code that covers their entire body with a loosely stitched cloth. I personally don't wear hijab but the word seems demeaning as it doesn't look beyond the appearance but merely judges.

Khadra's experience of hajj is wonderfully and poignantly explained; the Kaaba, a Lady, is their Hostess-- it was without a doubt my most favored component of the story and provided me a rejuvenating brand-new viewpoint on the yearly spiritual custom. She composes her experience as such:

… Every little thing was nonstop movement around the Lady of the Night, and the Lady was definitely still. She was Sakina, the calmness within the whirl. Envision, Khadra thought, looking at the large tides of pilgrims around the Kaba, these circles grow larger, as individuals all over Mecca face similarly to hope, then all over the world, even as far as America, wave after wave of individuals, in concentric circles going all around the earth, and I am at the center of all that. Khadra was a little surprised, then she was swirling too, and her mom was pleading, "Hold onto Jihad [Khadra's younger brother] Hold him tight!"and her dad was calling, "Stay with me! Stay with me!" And they were off, a small component of the sea, the ocean ...

The bliss of this minute, nevertheless, is followed by Khadra's shame at being apprehended by Saudi authorities for heading out alone to offer her fajr prayers at a neighboring mosque ("Women right here do not visit the mosque," she is informed), and later on by a sexual invitation by a boy who presumes that, as an "American," she has to be open and willing to having sexual relations. This turned into one of the numerous occasions mentioned in the book that challenged Khadra's concepts of the people that the Muslims currently are or can be, and the person that she herself is. The total mention of these 2 occasions particularly supported my previous expectations of the weak-minded members of any society in addition to the uninformed. It likewise makes me understand that belonging to a particular neighborhood or state is not a representation of one's character or moral standings-- not constantly and not certainly.

As the story advances, these concepts are significantly called into concern-- on an individual note for me too, and Khadra pertains to withstand the safe rigidity where she was raised. Her choice to have an abortion-- within a period that she comprehends as Islamically acceptable-- not just separates her marital relationship however brings about a distancing from her household and neighborhood. She takes a trip to Syria, where she picks up from her great-aunt about her household's history, and from a poet about the requirement for self-questioning. From an aunt and uncle who stay in Syria, Khadra discovers a kind of recognition for her parents and for their choice to relocate to America, a nation she just tentatively comprehends as part of her personal heritage. I for one have not experienced the stringent structure that Khadra mentions in the book, or anything close to it, but I do now have a better understanding of many youngsters and peers around me who do feel suppressed. It gives me a sense of the overall care structure that can help each community, Muslim or otherwise. I understand that the care facilities cannot merely provide physical relief and facilities for improvement - psychological and social agreement and acceptability is just as important.