“Harem´s renaissance… at the swimming pool”

Cairo, the 4th June, 2009

“Harem´s renaissance… at the swimming pool”

*** I have pronounced myself a serious, fierce adept of segregated places in Egypt, haven´t I ? I do know it sounds backwards, ignorant and anti-diplomatic for me to assume that I love the existence of segregated areas in several contexts in this country and I feel astounded myself to hear it coming from my mouth but, for the sake of honesty, I must say exactly how I feel and think (I am praised anddoomed for this quality).

*** When you live in free, modern society where you can go out in the streets and not be harassed by 95% of passing by men, segregation seems like something distant, absurd and third world created. It makes no sense and it´s a clear attack to freedom and free, healthy interaction and association between sexes, nationalities, races,religions. As an European, the image of a segregated country or a“harem” was exotic and medieval, proper for old movies of OrientalFantasies where women are oppressed and kept in closure, living boring empty lives where there´s not much going on besides staying pretty andwell fed to please a supposed master/husband/sultan.

*** That´s how I think when I am out of Egypt, still (thanks God!)…But, as soon as I land in Cairo, my “egyptian mode” button gets activated and I start to marvel at the wonders of segregated areas where I can be at ease without being disturbed, sexually harassed and constantly disrespected by strange men whom I don´t know and have no inclination to do so.

*** I happily found out that there is a swimming pool segregated areain my gym, besides the girl´s locker room and the training room which also is separated into mix and only female areas.I already train in the female section of the gym and now I am an“habitué” of the swimming pool where not only I can join into an intensively feminine atmosphere but I can also observe what must have been the traditional “harems” where women of all ages and nationalities gathered and lived in seclusion, sharing everything(even their own bodies), gossiping and exchanging beauty tips.

*** I am a “man´s lady”, I am. I always got along with men much better than with women and you will not find me discussing lipstick and hairdos or gossiping about another women any time soon. These typically feminine subjects are boring and empty to me so I am used to be keptout of these circles. I have always been the girl who got along and stood in the side of the boys, the stranger, the one who observes butc annot “get the point”. Strangely enough, I am perceived as very feminine by others…(“Me, feminine?! I don´t feel feminine at all…”).

*** I grab my book – one of the three books I brought to read – and take a sip of my “latté” while watching a group of girls in the swimming pool speaking about someone else´s tragic life (the absent character´s name is Mona, poor Mona…).The area is not big so we´re all very close to each other. I see some women eating by the plastic tables, others braless and exposing henna tattoos in the strangest places, others smoking and talking about respective husbands or lovers and several others by the swimming pool laughing and raiding each other´s hair.I feel shocked with the insensitive way these women seem to treat and feel their own bodies as if sensibility had been taken from their skinin order to support and survive upcoming pains. Their body is clearly a strange mass of meat which they have to control and feed in order tofit what´s expected from them. Do they know their body has a soul inside it, all around it, above and under it?!

*** As I watch this exquisite, progesterone over charged atmosphere, I cannot stop thinking about how much this resembles what I imagine a“harem” must be. The same maternal vibe and that omnipresent mixed sense of solidarity/envy between women who share a space where theyare unique, not willing to please any man or be what society expects of them. Just being themselves and not caring much for their physical or moral flaws…

*** Faithful to tradition, I am kept as an outsider/observer. I cannot discuss a pedicure ritual for half an hour nor even occupy my mind with other people´s lives. I just can´t although, for some strange reason I couldn´t understand,I felt comfortable at this warm womb built by these women´s full moon bodies and their wandering souls searching for company and mutual understanding/bonding besides getting sweet comments about my body andthe “khulkhal” I always wear around my right ankle. Receiving compliments from women has a totally different taste from the ones you get from men and they are something I am not so used to.They feel nice and sincere.

*** I have surrendered to the “harem´s” delights.