Deep down in my gutts, I am totally opposed to burqas and other religious paraphnelia. Being born in Brussels in the 70's I have never known anything else but immigration and living with different cultures. 99% of the time everything was fine (Spanish, Italians, Japaneses, Thais, Coreans, Greeks, Portugueses, Congoleses, etc) but the whole 'cover your women' shit disturbed and scared me from an early age. Especially once I turned 12/13 and girls from my class would start wearing that smelliy thing befor being sent to Marocco to marry a cousin. Also, from that age, boys on the steet started saying things like 'suck me dry Christian bitch' or 'you're a bitch, gett off the street, the street's mine'. From the time I am 13 I have learned, on the Continent, to wear dark, shapeless clothes and stare at my feet. Fanatics roam the metro stations to purify heretic women - non muslim women. 5 years ago, I was already living in Ireland. I phoned a friend who had been out of touch for a while. She merely said that on a Thursday evening, after work, at rush hour, when the station was packed, she was running dow the corridor to catch her metro. She was cornered by a goup of fanatics. They told he she had two choices: rape or permanent smile. She still has the insulting scares of the smile on her face. And none of the passers-by stopped to help her or called the police.
Two years ago, around Christmas, I had coffee in a nice old inn of the Grand Place with a frind of mine. There was a Christmas market and the square was packed. We were supposed to take the same bus together. A group or young religious fanatics - they were aged 12, 13 - barged in and we were separated. They cornered my friend and myself separately. I was so angry that I pulled, bit, scratched and destroyed everything I could. I ran back to where I guessed my friend was. They had lifted her skits, two were fingering her and a third was tring to get inside saying 'That's what you want Gaul' (Gaul is a racist term (slang) to describe white Christian people). I was so much out of my head with anger that I dragged my friend back to a safer place and scratched, bit and kicked all the little fuckers I could lay my hand on.
So now, living in Irland where people are nice and more respectful I do not have the reflexe of keeping my gaze on my feet anymore. I can walk srtaight, I can look at people in the face. In Ireland I enjoy the freedom of dressing like a woman, wearing make up and high heels, looking good for myself and my friends and looking at men in their eyes.
Ok, rant over, you can go back to a normal life now
M.A. xxx
That said, if burquas were initially designed for men, what kind of initial reactions would would we betacklig with?
Waow! Deep thoughts! Now! Easter really is coming and I wish you all a chocolate orgy. Spoil youserlf/the wife/the woman who loves you/the kids/the family that love you/etc. This is the weekend to share chocolate bunnies, enjoy family time and love as it comes. Even an expact loner like should get it out of it. Something like a duck roasting in the over with chicory.
Originally Posted by Mademoiselle Avenante
Deep down in my gutts, I am totally opposed to burqas and other religious paraphnelia. Being born in Brussels in the 70's I have never known anything else but immigration and living with different cultures. 99% of the time everything was fine (Spanish, Italians, Japaneses, Thais, Coreans, Greeks, Portugueses, Congoleses, etc) but the whole 'cover your women' shit disturbed and scared me from an early age. Especially once I turned 12/13 and girls from my class would start wearing that smelliy thing befor being sent to Marocco to marry a cousin. Also, from that age, boys on the steet started saying things like 'suck me dry Christian bitch' or 'you're a bitch, gett off the street, the street's mine'. From the time I am 13 I have learned, on the Continent, to wear dark, shapeless clothes and stare at my feet. Fanatics roam the metro stations to purify heretic women - non muslim women. 5 years ago, I was already living in Ireland. I phoned a friend who had been out of touch for a while. She merely said that on a Thursday evening, after work, at rush hour, when the station was packed, she was running dow the corridor to catch her metro. She was cornered by a goup of fanatics. They told he she had two choices: rape or permanent smile. She still has the insulting scares of the smile on her face. And none of the passers-by stopped to help her or called the police.
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You really expect her to answer all of those? They're not even easy questions with yes/no, even asking one of those questions is asking something of her. 