Tuesday, January 11, 2011

"It's ironic, but the burqa protects me. I can not see below"

Rangin Hamidi, 33, is smart and stubborn. It also has a habit of going against. When I studied Religion and Gender at the University of Virginia (USA) began to wear the Muslim veil that had not previously felt the need to look - "was my way of fighting the prejudices of my fellow" -. And in October 2001, while everyone who could afford desperately fleeing from Afghanistan, she returned to the country he had to leave after four years.

A Hamidi does not like meat and we met a vegetarian. Round and smiling, the director of Kandahar Treasure's, a company woven hand embroidery that employs 300 women in the province of Kandahar, has a good serve and enjoy heartily the stew and lasagna home while telling her life, reflecting the history Afghanistan recently.

In the late seventies, his father, who speaks with devotion, he worked in the Ministry of Finance, but after the Soviet invasion the family fled to Pakistan, where they suffered religious fanaticism. When the daughter of a friend of her father's face disfigured with acid by attending class, that of Hamidi was forced to remove their own school.

His life was spent behind closed doors when in 1987 the family obtained a visa to go into exile in the U.S.. And there started from scratch. She could return to the classroom and gave the studies aware of the "privilege", but it has not dropped in the epic. In college, confirmed what had long felt: the prejudice against Muslim women.

"People always talk about them as cover, controlled, subject ... And do not deny that the case of the majority, but there are exceptions, and may be the role model." The first time you did put the veil "respect", to attend lectures on Islam. "On the third day, a friend asked me if I would leave it with me.

I thought about it and since then I have not removed. It's part of my identity," said Hamidi, which bothered obliging women to wear the veil so as to be treated with suspicion for it, and do not mind getting caught up in a discussion on the subject while the lasagna is finished, which leaves no trace.

In 2001 he returned home, where he worked for an NGO. I recently decided to establish a private company. "I got tired of the bureaucracy involved live help," he explains as freaks with yogurt and honey, a wonderful combination that I had never tried. "I used to be more aware of the needs of those who financed me than those of women who have given economic independence." In Kandahar, met her husband Hamidi, an Afghan who has a baby.

"I am privileged. My family has given me opportunities and I feel I have to do something for women of my country." States will remain there at least until her daughter is old enough to go to school, and refuses to accept the withdrawal of allied troops: "It is likely that a civil war. And if it happens, the fault of the West," he says.

His father followed in his footsteps and has returned to Afghanistan. Today is the mayor of Kandahar and threatened with death by warlords. She is targeted by the fundamentalists, but it has an ironic ally: "The burqa protect me, and nobody knows who goes under."

No comments:

Post a Comment