Through His Eyes

I stand impatiently by the counter as I watch one man after the next get service. It does not matter that I was first, or how long I have to stand waiting, I am a woman.

Walking by the shops and cafes I quickly avert my eyes and stop smiling. The slightest nod or eye contact can be taken the wrong way and attract unwanted attention. Nothing much matters beyond the fact that I am a woman.

If the tram is too full or a café is packed with men, I do not go in. If several men are walking down the sidewalk, I step into the street and out of their way. I am not an equal, I am a woman.

 

 

I love the generosity of these people…an older woman offering us crackers on a long bus ride or a shop owner giving us free apple tea while we try on scarves.

 

I love the deep devotion these people have for their country, their family, their religion…I have never seen so many Turkish flags in my life. They line every street and hang out the window of every building. Businesses are family owned, and everyone lives either with or very close to each other. The choice to wear a head scarf for women is determined by the family, and that decision is respected. The call to prayer happens everyday, five times a day. Can you imagine stopping in the middle of what you were doing five times a day to pray? These people are committed and devoted.

 

I love the colors of this country…Everywhere you look there are brightly colored buildings; shops filled with colorful tiles, scarves, and glass; women adorned in beautiful headscarves. Everything is so rich and passionate.