lip lit: Abu Dhabi Days Dubai Nights
As a teenager, I visited a waterslide park. Amid splashes and screams, a family sat eating lunch underneath the beating sun. The dad and two sons wore dripping board shorts, while the mother was wearing an abaya – a full length cloak with long sleeves and veil – her eyes were all I could see of her face. I remember marvelling at how hot it must be underneath all that black, and how unfair it all is.
The Western world has appropriated the image of women in abayas to represent oppressed daughters of Islam. To me, societies of compliant ladies and arrogant men who refuse to question the system has always seemed unreal; as far removed as Sheherazade and her 1001 stories.
Jillian Schedneck gets to know the invisible women hidden beneath flowing black material whilst living in the United Arab Emirates (UAE) for two years. In Abu Dhabi Days Dubai Nights, she recounts her experiences travelling to the country from the US, teaching women and men English at a university. She encounters all types of women: those who wear jeans and shirts, colourful veils thrown over their hair, or full abayas. Her contact with students gives access to stories of young people living in varying obedience to religious and cultural expectations. Woven between tales of romantic relationships and cosmopolitan friends, this travel memoir serves as an anecdotal study of individuals living within what is to us an alien culture.
The UAE is a curious place. After being rapidly industrialised, the nation is incredibly rich due to a construction and manufacturing boom and a huge resource of oil. Abu Dhabi and Dubai offer air-conditioned malls dedicated to grand historical figures, the most expensive hotel in the world and stunning beaches. The cities are also governed by sharia law and create a cultural climate which compels some women to don the veil.
Schedneck is in awe of the sparkling cities, despite several of her acquaintances describing the UAE as a soulless commercial venture, bereft of arts or culture. A visit to a religious family in the name of ‘cultural exchange’ illustrates the basic tenets of Islam, which is a curiosity that the author explores throughout the book, especially during Ramadan. She also describes the decadence of Dubai in famous nightclubs and Hummer limousines, ushering in the confused jumble of religion and hedonism that is the UAE.
While the West believes the veil to be oppressive, Schedneck seeks enlightenment on personal motivation for covering up. Aysha, a fellow teacher who divorced after kicking out her husband, explains the cultural reasons for wearing the abaya: it can communicate that the wearer is a pious woman, it can stop men being distracted by the face and hair of a beautiful woman, and it encases the wearer, ensuring that her purity makes her precious.
Aysha goes on: ‘“You want to feel unique and special,” she said. “But we already feel that way inside our abayas and sheylas. Western women think we want “empowerment”, to be equal with men, but we do not see the sexes as equals nor wish them to be. We are different in nature; we complement, but neither is superior. We look at the west and we see women without religion, with low self-worth, who don’t understand us. We don’t need the kind of “freedom” that allows us to wear skimpy clothes or go out to hotel bars. Educating yourself, the opportunity to work and express opinions – that is freedom, and we have that.’”
Female education is undeniably a burgeoning theme in the Arab world. However, despite these advancements and liberties, we get the feeling that the public sphere belongs to men, while the private is a female domain. Men populate bars at night and eat out with groups of friends, while many women are comfortable behind closed doors.
This is demonstrated by a conversation with a student, El Yazia. ‘I’m not let out except for class. If I want to go out, my mother will say, “Oh, the maid can bring that for you,” or, “Why do you want to go there? It’s boring!” They don’t want me to leave, so I stay. People gossip too much anyway, so it’s better to stay in. I just sleep a lot.’
Perhaps El Yazia’s mother restricts her because a woman alone seems to invite propositions from men. Schedneck and her friends encounter touchy taxi drivers, over-friendly vendors, and men shouting their phone numbers in the mall. Fighting down feminist urges, our narrator accepts a ring from her boyfriend and begins the fantasy that she is engaged in an effort to make rebuffing men easier.
Towards the end of her time in the UAE, Schedneck comes across a shelter providing refuge for women with nowhere else to go. They have fallen victim to the systematic exploitation of immigrant blue-collar workers, or ran from abusive husbands. Marriage is a private domain and therefore outside intervention is not permissible – leaving no safety net for victims of abuse.
Through her work with the charity, our narrator discovers her passion for highlighting the plight of women in this uncaring country, and her motivation in writing this book is clear. She seeks to unveil the attitudes that UAE society holds towards a woman, which can stop her studying when she marries, restrict her movements outside her home, and leave her destitute when her husband becomes violent. Every real life that Schedneck uncovers points to a greater picture: the culture.
For anyone fascinated by the international debate surrounding the veil, this is an insightful book. Abayas are presented as much more complicated than an outpouring of gendered oppression. The skill in Abu Dhabi Days Dubai Nights lies in the tasteful way that Schedneck couples her personal narrative with the rich history and background of the UAE. While her search for romance becomes repetitive, she couples this with her students’ obsession with marriage, and reveals that many of our hopes and dreams mirror those of Emirati women. We are not strangers. We are sisters.
Abu Dhabi Days Dubai Nights is published by Macmillan.
