At the police station II.

Second time in a month or so that I am called to the police station to report a hate crime.

The first time the officer taking my report tells me that basically Islamophobia is not that much of a big deal.

The second time (today), another officer is of the opinion that if I had not tweeted about 'controversial' topics such as extremism and racism, I would not have attracted the attention of the Islamophobic numbhead to consequently floods me with his racist filth (so in a nutshell, the crime is the victim's fault). When I ask him if his statement is not the same as asking a woman who was sexually harassed if she really had to wear that miniskirt, he gets upset and says, 'he is offended'.

Second time I am at the police station to report a racist / Islamophobic incident, second time I don't feel that those police officers are ... what they should be, professional, sensitised, on the side of the victim.

Second time in a month that I complain and that my complaint is dealt with in the most professional manner and that the duty inspector is as shocked about the comments made as I was when I realised what was being said to me.

Don't accept poor treatment. Don't give up. Keep on complaining, keep on protesting. You might think it's not a big deal or that it's not going to change anything anyway, but if we continue to swallow whatever we are being served, nothing is ever going to change. Ever.

Islamic wisdom

"Prefer to be one who is overcome while being just, rather than one who triumphs while being unjust." (Imam Ali, as)

At the police station.

Or: Explaining hate crime to those 

who are here to combat it.

When you call on the phone to report racist stickers that you have seen in the city centre, everyone is very friendly. "I will forward this to my colleagues, Ma'am, can you come to the station to give a statement, Ma'am, thank you very much for calling, Ma'am."

When you arrive at the police station at 9 o'clock, a woman takes your statement. Blond hair, fair skin, middle-aged. It's you and her, in a stuffy room with no windows.

Police officer, blond, middle-aged: "So you felt that the stickers were offensive?"

(Relatively) young white hijabi: "I didn't just find them offensive, I found them highly offensive, and to be honest, I also got a bit scared when I saw them, for myself and my family. [insert bit about particular family background and ways in which this relates to the stickers] I have always felt safe in [this city here], but it changed (a bit) when I saw these stickers."

Police officer, blond, middle-aged: "But crime and violence, this something that happens everywhere, isn't it, it's a global problem?"

(Relatively) young white hijabi: "Well, yes, but these stickers are used by right-wing extremists to mark their territory and to spread fear. This is part of their strategy, it's part of their campaign. They send a message to people like me, to Muslims, to refugees, migrants, brown people."

Police officer, blond, middle-aged: "But this could happen to anyone..."

(Relatively) young white hijabi: "Erm, no. This is a hate crime. They specifically target one group of people. And sorry, but you, as a blonde, white, British woman won't be targeted by them. I wouldn't if it weren't for my headscarf. But me, the way I look, with this [points to her scarf], I am one of their targets."

Police officer, blond, middle-aged: "But if that was true, they could just put a bomb in a mosque - they don't do that."

(Relatively) young white hijabi: "Erm, yes, of course they do. [insert short excursus about recent attacks on mosques in the UK in general and [the region we live in] in particular, with particular mention of the Muslim grandfather who has just gotten assassinated - for being Muslim - a few days ago] ... "I can't really believe I need to tell you this. They are targeting Muslims, refugees, brown people, and everyone who, to them, looks like that."

Police officer, blond, middle-aged: "But you have that everywhere ... in Paris they just attacked people who were in the street"

(Relatively) young white hijabi: [insert a sentence about how that was a case of Islamist extremism ... which is different from right-wing extremism ... which is what I am talking about at the moment] "No. No, sorry, this is not right. I'm not going to continue like this. I am not going to speak to you any more. I want to speak to someone else. And I want to complain about this. Now."

When you go to the police station to report racist stickers you have seen in the city centre, you might come across a police officer who seems to have less knowledge about hate crime, Islamophobia and violent extremism than you do. Who shows a complete lack of sensitivity while dealing with a victim of a hate crime. Who is playing down an issue she is clearly not facing herself.

But you can complain. And (relatively) young white hijabi did. To the duty inspector and, after that, to the two female police officers assigned to take her statement. Two officers it was this time, both (relatively) young, one blond + white, the other brown + Muslim. Who agreed that this was outrageous, took the statement, chatted about this and that, were friendly, laughed, made little jokes, explained what was going to happen now.

When you go to the police station to report racist stickers you have seen in the city centre, this is the sort of police officers you should have welcome you. Not people you need to explain to that the crime that you are here to report is actually a problem.

"No space for women"

What do you do if in a mosque there is "no space" for women? Faraz Rabbani advised the following. Says a lot about us as a community that we have gotten so much used to nonsense ("sorry, no women allowed; there's just no space, what can we do"), that we're close to be shocked when we hear such a simple, common sense answer (by a highly qualified, highly regarded sheikh, after all).

When life hands you lemons...

Or: How I was chosen for a "random" security check, and ended up giving an impromptu live hijab tutorial

Sunday morning, at the airport. I forget to take off my watch, the metal detector goes off.

I think, 'they'll quickly check with the portable metal detector'. No, they want to search me in a separate room.

Ok, whatever. It's me and two female security officers who close the curtain behind them.

I think, 'they'll quickly pat me down and I can go'. No. Not that easy, not that quickly.

It's them, and me.

Female security officer (FSO) 1: 'Can you please take your scarf off, madam?'

Me [with a strong expression of WTH on my face, raised eyebrows and all]: 'Take MY SCARF OFF?'

FSO 1: 'Yes.'

FSO 2 [smiles, looking slightly embarrassed]

Me: 'Okkkk...'

I take off my scarf. FSO 1 pats me down from head to toe, doesn't forget to check my socks (because THAT'S where we Muslimist terrorist extremists hide our bombs, you know), a few minutes later she says I can put back my scarf on.

I reach for it. There is silence. And I think, 'You know what...'

Me: 'Well, at least you'll get to see now how I wear my scarf...'

FSO 1 and FSO 2 both look at me.

I force a smile.

Me: 'Yes, because there is different ways of tying it. I usually do it likes this...'

FSO 2 [looks at me pointing on my scarf, nods hesitantly]

Me: 'So first I put the scarf here. On top of this [I point on the undercap]. I always wear one of these underneath. Otherwise it can be really annoying when the scarf doesn't stay in place but keeps moving around. You know, that's just REALLY annoying. One time around and then a pin here...'

FSO 1 and 2 both follow my movements and nod in agreement.

FSO 1: ' And do you wear it in the summer, too?'

Me: [little excursus about light fabric, long sleeves, and breezy maxi dresses]

Both nod again and touch the fabric of my shirt when I hold it towards them.

FSO 1: 'Do you have scarves in many different colours?'

Me [laugh]: 'Oh yes, I do. But my favourite is pink!'

FSO 1: 'Pink is great!'

Me: 'Pink is the best!!'

We all laugh.

FSO 1: And makeup is not allowed?

Me: [short explanation about my personal preference (no makeup), scholarly opinions (divided), and individual choices (it depends)] ... 'and then there is those who believe it is not allowed but they do it anyway. But that, you have it in all religions, don't you, you have Christians, too, who do that...?'

They both nod enthusiastically and murmur in agreement.

FSO 2: 'And now this pin?'

Me: 'No, that one comes all the way in the end. Look, here. I'll use this one first, here, and then that one. See, now it is all in place.'

I look at myself in the mirror and see both of them turning towards my reflection in the glass.

Me: 'I just need to pull at little here, and there, and then ... that's it, done!'

Smiles all around, and I leave, pick up my baggage and look for my gate.

Beirut is...

After four days...

Beirut is hot. Beirut is humid. Beirut is big and busy.

It is old houses and modern buildings, broad highways and narrow streets.

Beirut is Hamra and it is all those people who are extra friendly to the German hijabi. Are they Sunni? Or just generally friendly?

Beirut is bushes of pink majnounieh, those flowers I know from Palestine. 

It is people advising me not to tell others that I have worked in Palestine or that my husband is Syrian because politics ... and me talking about it anyway because what the heck.

Beirut is full of Syrians, young people, families, poor rich, big cars with Syrian number plate parked outside of the 5 star hotel, and Ahmad who is going to the camps in the North, where thousands of Syrians are living surviving.

Beirut is Sanayeh with all its greenery. An urban jungle. Trees, bushes, palm trees, flowers. Green against the yellow and grey of the houses. Beirut is beautiful.

Beirut is the current waste management crisis, communication between the municipality and its waste collection company going wrong. 

Beirut is secretly guessing which sectarian group he / she / they belong to ... as if it mattered. It is seeing a cross, a picture of the Dome of Rock, a painting of Nasrallah, a hijab worn a certain way and  thinking 'aaaaaaah!'.

Beirut is sitting in a restaurant near the sea and realising that, even sitting so close to the water, does not really bring any relief from the heat.

It is sitting in a café with a former combattant, speaking about his past and the reconciliation work he is involved in now, before he buys Lieschen a fresh orange juice.

Beirut is full of foreigners. It is meeting an American-Lebanese family who used to live in Germany on the playground, it is Syrians, Syrians, everywhere, it is Italian tourists in Gemmayzeh, French volunteers in Dawrah, and all those Africans, Filipinos, Sri Lankans, Indians and Thais who came here for work.

Beirut is haggling with the servis drivers and making use of all those tricks you learned in Palestine. 

It is answering again and again, 'where are you from?', 'are you Muslim?', 'are you married to a Muslim?'.

Beirut is seeing, from your roof-top balcony, a mosque and a church ... and the sea.

Beirut is airconditioned rooms smelling of cigarette smoke.

Beirut is barely coping with the humidity and wondering how on earth they manage back in the days, without fan, no AC, God, what on earth did the French want here?! 

Beirut is hearing Arabic in the streets, English and French, marhaba, ahleen, kifak, ca va, yallah bye.

Beirut.

Currently doing fieldwork in Beirut. More pictures and texts to come inshaallah.

Wenn Muslime Christen in Pakistan schützen

"Habt Acht! Wer grausam und harsch gegenüber einer nicht-muslimischen Minderheit ist, ihre Rechte beschneidet, ihnen zu viel aufbürdet oder von ihnen stiehlt - ich [Muhammad] werde mich über diese Person [bei Gott] am Tage des Gerichts beschweren." [Hadith nach Abu Dawud]

Wir hören meistens nur die negativen Beispiele. Von Diskriminierung, Unterdrückung und Gewalt. Aber es gibt, immer, auch die andere Seite. Ganz unspektakulär das Zusammenleben im Alltag oder Aktionen, die aus dem Gleichgleich des Jedentags herausstechen. Christen in Pakistan sind vor allem eins - Pakistanis. Ihre Religion mögen sie nicht mit dem Großteil der Pakistanis, die Muslime sind, teilen, aber kulturell sind sie nichts anderes. Pakistanis. Umso schöner eine solche Geste, die (auch wenn von 2013, also nicht mehr ganz aktuell) genau das unterstreicht: Unsere Gemeinsamkeiten sind so viel größer als das, was uns trennt. Auch wenn ihr anders seid, stehen wir an eurer Seite und verteidigen auch eure Rechte. Davon bitte mehr, nicht nur in Pakistan! Hier geht's zum Link.

Love and light

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Baraka Blue: Love and light

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Convert Conversations I

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Culturally German, religiously a Muslim. 

Or: Too much biryani.

Bismillah

In the beginning it was exciting

If I am being perfectly honest, in the beginning it was exciting. This new religion came not only with a testimony of faith, principles of belief, acts of worship and the building of a relation with God, but with a whole new, and at times exotic, culture. Cultures, I mean. There was Eritrean hospitality, Moroccon tea, Algerian music, Pakistani food, Turkish fashion, Bosnian sweets, Central Asian architecture. Learning how to be a Muslim, I also learned loads about the many cultures that Islam left its footprint on in one way or another, cultures that are hard to think of without the enormous influence the religion of Islam had on them. 

Turkish lentil soup, Arabic hiphop, South Asian tea

Now, more than ten, almost fifteen years later, I can make a mean Turkish lentil soup; know how to do small talk in Bosnian, Turkish and Arabic; could give a 30 minutes presentation about Arabic hiphop and a 60 minutes presentation about the role of the diaspora in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. I can tell a Moroccon hijabi from a Saudi, Pakistani, British-Pakistani, Turkish, Syrian or Malaysian one - from a 100 metres! (when I wear my glasses) - and I would happily explain to you the difference between aloo paneer, palak paneer and aloo keema ... if you asked. I can say the traditional Islamic greeting salam alaikum (may Peace be with you) the way it is pronounced in Turkey, Arabic countries and the Sub-continent. I prefer Fairouz over Umm Kulthum and Moroccon green tea with mint over South Asian red tea with milk; haggle like a pro (I am known to have made a taxi driver in Jericho complain, "she's worse than the locals!"); and it does not seem odd to me (any more) to keep on asking "how are you?", even after the person in question has already replied (twice).

Muslim habits, norms and values

With Islam, I got to know a long list of different countries, cultures, mentalities, lifestyles. Cultures which differ in many ways but which have in common that Islam is one of their main cultural reference points (not the only one, of course, after all, we don't want to fall into essentialist narratives of how all Muslims are the same, do we?). I have gotten to know many aspects of these cultures, I have gotten to love some of them, and many have become a part of me. I have not just become a Muslim but I also adopted quite a few habits, norms and values that are often regarded as essentially linked to Islam while in reality they are rooted in one of the many cultures, societies or communities which happen to be majority Muslim.

Culture and religion

Culture and religion are closely intertwined. That is not just an Islamic phenomenon but something that can be observed in all cultures and religions worldwide. Sometimes this intertwinement is pretty obvious, at times it happens more subtly and you need to look closely to spot it. Sometimes it is problematic, sometimes absolutely fine, or perhaps even of advantage - for example, when it brings out the best in a community of believers. Intertwinement can mean similarity, overlapping, contradiction; it is not positive or negative per se. In practise, the intertwinement of religion and culture means that it is often hard to tell where culture starts and religion ends.

"If you want to be a true believer..."

At first, I did not mind that too much. At first, it was exciting. And at first, I also lacked the knowledge to tell the difference between cultural practises and religious principles. Wrapped in mashaallah, alhamdulillah, bismillah, many things that were not Islamic in their own right (but, for example, Arabic or Turkish) or even not Islamic at all (as they contradicted the very basics of this religion) looked like they were the way to go - if you wanted to be a true believer. "Oh, you don't like abayahs? But that's what proper hijab looks like!" - "What do you mean, you are not happy to sit in the back? But you are a woman! We can't allow free mixing in our Islamic classes!" - "No, no, no, don't ask the speaker your question directly, let one of the brothers pass your question on!" - "Male friends? Astaghfirullah!!??" - "Western music? Filth! I only listen to Nancy Ajram..." - "No, I don't think we should start yet; yes, we are already 45 minutes behind schedule, but what if anyone is still on the way? Isn't it our duty to wait for our brothers and sisters in Islam who came here with the intention of listening to an Islamic talk and not prevent them from gaining knowledge? Gaining knowledge is so important in Islam!" - Ok, sorry, I might have gotten a bit carried away. Where was I?

Ten, almost fifteen, years later...

Ten, almost fifteen years, later, the initial excitement has slowly worn off. Not completely, I still owe a lot to all the Muslims (and their respective cultures) that I have met on this journey in the last years, I love many things I have learned from them, things that have become part of me. But I have become a bit older, a bit (tiny bit!) more knowledgeable, a bit more confident and, sorry!, less accepting of nonsense. I have realised in the last years that people have been trying to sell me something as Islamic which is not. And I'm tired of it. I don't need to wear a Saudi abayah to be a Muslim; I don't need to have the same views on gender relations as many South Asian Muslims, for example, do; my Norah Jones is not less Islamic than your Nancy Ajram; and if you serve samosas and dates to non-Muslim visitors at an event organised by the local mosque that's not "typically Muslim food". Your culture is not representative of Islam. 

Losing out of sight how diverse our Muslim community is

Alhamdulillah for biryani, but do we really need to serve it at every event organised by our Islamic Student Societies? At every single event? If all members of said society are desi (see, how I have learned my cool cultural terms), that's, of course, absolutely fine. There is nothing wrong with biryani. This is not about biryani. This is about a majority acting as if the minority did not exist. This is about losing out of sight how diverse our Muslim community is. If all members of a mosque or student society or what-not are not Arabic but they keep on serving Arabic food, in my mind, there is something wrong. And I am not saying that this is being done on purpose, that the biryani fraction of my community have bad intentions or that they are to blame. If you are in the majority it is very easy to forget how those in the minority feel. I am not blaming you for that. But please, try to be a bit open-minded and don't start rolling your eyes and saying, "but it's Eid", when I suggest to order pizza instead of kebabs. 

An Islamic community in Germany

Last year, I spent Ramadan in Germany. My mosque there is very multicultural. The majority of the visitors are German-Moroccons, but  the mosque is also attended by German Muslims with a German background (like me) and by those whose families once came from Turkey, Syria, Eritrea, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Bosnia, Tunisia, Algeria, Egypt, Southeast Asia, Poland, Slovakia, the US (many of whom have also become pretty German in the meantime). The only language we have in common is German so pretty much all activities are in German. In fact, a comparatively high number of young Muslims attend this mosque as they feel more at ease in a German-speaking (as opposed to Turkish- or Arabic-speaking etc.) environment. Here, they understand the language. And know how things are being done. 

German pasta salad for iftar

During Ramadan, free food is provided in the mosque every evening. Most of the time, it was Moroccon food. But that was fine. If 70% of your visitors are Moroccon, there is nothing wrong with serving Moroccon food 70% of the time. If, however, you serve Moroccon food only, I would say, there is a problem. At my mosque, they didn't do that. It was Moroccon food most of the time, with the odd Afghani or Pakistani meal inbetween. One day they made German pasta salad. German pasta salad. With mayonaise, cornichons, sweetcorn - exactly as we would do it at home. I was in food heaven, but I also realised this was the first time in over ten years of being a Muslim that I was eating European food in a European mosque.

It is easy to forget to look outside the box

As I explained above, in many cases, the majority of culturally (pretty) Turkish, Arabic or South Asian Muslims in Europe don't even realise how it can be for a German Muslim, for example, if Islam is made look, taste and feel foreign most of the time. They feel at ease, they know things to be that way, they expect things to be that way, so for most of them the thought that this might not be the same for those with a different cultural background does not even cross their minds. Again, I don't really want to blame them for it. I know myself how easy it is to see yourself only, to assume your preferences to be the norm, to forget to look outside of the box. I do it. You do it. We all do it. And as long as it happens unconsciously, unintendedly, I don't really want to blame anyone.

Muslims full of hared of "the West"

But there is something else, too. There are those who just don't question the predominance of Arabic / Turkish / South Asian / you name it! cultural practises in Islamic organisations and mosques in Europe - but who would, if you told them, agree that, yes, perhaps, one day we can have spaghetti napoli in the mosque for iftar and hmmm, why not get some potato salad, too?! And then there are those who are full of hatred of "the West" which they see as an antidote to "Islam". "Look at the West and how they treat their old people, sending them to care homes instead of looking after them, what a shame!" - "Look at how morally corrupted the West is!" - "You want to wear Western clothes?! Astaghfirullah, that would be imitating the kuffar!" 

I am not imitating "the kuffar" or "the West". I am of one them

I am sorry, I am not imitating "the kuffar" or "the West". I am of one them. Culturally, I am one of them; religiously, I am a Muslim. And before you start screaming now, "Oh my God, she declared herself an unbeliever" - I haven't. Not everything in Europe contradicts Islam. There are loads of cultural aspects that you can perfectly reconcile with Islam. In fact, some aspects of European cultures are even more Islamic than much that is found in many "Eastern" societies (talk about punctuality, bindingness of appointments or lower levels of corruption ... that is if you stay North of the Alps... :P ). 

Like the first Muslims back in the Prophet's time

By holding on to my German identity, I am really not doing anything different than the first Muslims back in the Prophet's time did. They were converts. And carried their (polytheistic) ancestors names, continued to eat their (type of) food and wearing their traditional clothes. They remained a part of society. What we consider essentially Islamic now (names such as Fatima, for example) used to be part of the culture of a polytheistic society. What did the Prophet (Peace be upon him) and his followers do? Did they start to scream, "don't imitate the unbelievers" and change their own ways completely? They didn't. They changed what needed changing and held on to what was acceptable to keep. Fatima stayed Fatima. She was not made change her name into a more "Islamically sounding" name when she converted. 

Islam is bigger than this, it is for everyone

And lastly, don't misunderstand me. I am not asking for big changes. I am not asking for German pasta salad everyday. Have your biryani. I'll share it with you. But don't pretend this was Islam. Don't make us, Muslims and non-Muslims, believe your Pakistani naans or Turkish pides were more appropriate to have in the mosque than my German rye bread. Islam is bigger than that. It is more than just biryani. Let's not belittle this grand religion, let's not veil the universal character it has. Islam is for everyone. Look outside your box, have some compassion and try to walk a bit in my shoes. Leave me some room and let me be who I am. That's all I'm asking for.

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Jung, weiblich, muslimisch, aktiv

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Toller Text in der taz über die Rolle von Frauen im neuen muslimischen zivilgesellschaftlichen Aktivismus.

"Es ist an der Zeit, über moderne junge (muslimische) Frauen zu reden (...)."
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"(Ich) möchte (...) nur um der Abwechslung willen einmal von Frauen als Handelnden erzählen, zumal es sich um ein Phänomen handelt, das direkt vor unserer Haustür stattfindet: die Dominanz der Frauen im neuen muslimischen Aktivismus."

"In den Islamverbänden, wo es um Macht geht, dominieren weiter die Männer; in der Zivilgesellschaft und in den Jugendorganisationen dominieren die Frauen."

Aber mein Lieblingszitat: "Wir arbeiten den ganzen Tag und sind noch sonst wie aktiv, da ist Hausarbeit einfach nicht drin."

Lesenswert! 

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Ramadankalender für Faule || Ramadan calendar for lazy people

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Das Lieschen ist im Ramadan geboren. Als sie ein bisschen älter war, alt genug, um zu verstehen, was Ramadan ist, begann ich zu überlegen, wie ich ihr vermitteln konnte, was für eine besondere Zeit Ramadan für Muslime ist; wie ich sie dazu bringen könnte, Ramadan zu lieben und es zu etwas zu machen, auf das sie sich schon lange im Voraus freut. Als Kind habe ich Weihnachtskalender geliebt. Als ich durch Zufall irgendwo gelesen habe, dass es Ramadankalender gibt, hat mir die Idee gleich zugesagt. Zum ersten Mal habe ich einen Ramadankalender für das Lieschen vor zwei Jahren gemacht, aber sie war noch zu klein, um die Idee zu begreifen. Nach der Hälfte des Monatshaben wir den Kalender nicht wirklich mehr benutzt.

Lieschen was born in Ramadan. When she got a bit older, old enough to be able to understand what Ramadan is, I started to wonder how I could make her grasp what a special time it is for Muslims, how I could make her love it and be excited about it. As a child I loved my Christmas calendars, so when I read about Ramadan calendars somewhere, I immediately liked the idea. I made a Ramadan calendar for the first time two years ago but Lieschen was still too young to really understand the concept so we only used it half way through the month. 

Letztes Jahr habe ich einen richtigen Ramadankalender gemacht und sie hat eigentlich fast jeden Tag eines der kleinen Briefchen geöffnet. Ich wollte nicht, dass sie denkt, im Ramadan geht es nur um Schokolade und Süßigkeiten, deswegen habe ich jeden Tag einen kleinen Zettel mit einem Islam-bezogenen Begriff vorbereitet ("Qur'an", zum Beispiel, oder "Kaabah", "Hadith", "Mekka", "Geduld" usw.), den ich mit ihr lesen und besprechen habe (so weit das mit einem Kind dieses Alters geht). Die Bastelanleitung für solch einen Ramadankalender habe ich letztes Jahr hier gepostet. 

Last year, I made a proper Ramadan calendar and she did indeed open one of the little sachets almost every day. I didn't want her to think that Ramadan is about chocolate and sweets only, so everyday I put a little note with an Islam-related term on it (such as "Qur'an", "Kaabah", "Hadith", "Mekka", "patience" etc.) which I would read and discuss with her (as much as you can discuss with a child of that age). You'll find the description of how to make such a Ramadan calendar here. 

Wie man anhand der Bilder und Bastelanleitung sehen kann, braucht es einige Zeit, solch einen Kalender zu basteln. Letztes Jahr hatte ich im Ramadan frei und hatte mehr als genug Zeit, einen Ramadankalender zu machen. Dieses Jahr bin ich mit der Promotion und einer Millionen anderer Dinge beschäftigt und wusste, dass es nicht drin sein würde, einen Kalender wie den vom letzten Jahr zusammenzubasteln. So kam mir die Idee für einen Ramadankalender für Faule Schwerbeschäftigte.

As you can probably tell from the pictures and description, making such a calendar takes quite a lot of time. Last year, I was free in Ramadan so I had the time, but this year I'm busy with my PhD and a million other things so I knew I wouldn't be able to spend that much time again. So I came up with the idea for a Ramadan calendar for lazy busy people.

1) Benutze ein Stück Papier als Hintergrund. Schreibe zum Beispiel "Ramadan karim" darauf, male eine Moschee, Sterne, einen Mond...

1) Decorate a piece of colourful paper, e.g. write "Ramadan karim" on it, draw a mosque, stars, a moon, or whatever else you like.

2) Klebe jeden Tag ein kleines Post-it-Zettelchen auf das Papier. Auf die eine Seite des Zettelchens (die Seite, die man sieht), schreibt man, was das Kind tun soll, z.B. eine Sure rezitieren, ein islamisches Kinderbuch lesen, eine Ramadankarte für jemanden basteln, Fragen zum Islam beantworten (je nach Alter, z.B. wer ist dein Gott? wer ist dein Prophet? welches ist dein heiliges Buch? was ist deine Religion?).

2) Everyday, put a little post-it note on it. On one side of the note (the side, that can be seen), write something your child should do, e.g. recite a surah the know, read an Islamic kids book, make a Ramadan card for someone, answer questions about Islam (depending on the kids's age, e.g. who is your God? who is your Prophet? what is your book? what is your religion?). 

3) Auf die andere Seite des Post-its (die, die verdeckt ist), schreibt man, wo das Kind das Geschenk suchen soll, z.B. "da ist was in einem deiner Schuhe", "schau mal ins Buchregal", "vielleicht liegt was für dich auf der Kommode".

3) On the other side of the note (the one that is hidden), write where they can look for their little gift, e.g. "there is something in one of your shoes", "look in your book shelf", "you might find something on the chest of drawers".

4) Das Kind muss die Frage beantworten / die Sache machen, bevor es nach dem Geschenk suchen darf.

4) They need to answer the question / do the activity before they are allowed to look for the gift.

5) Das Geschenk könnte zum Beispiel ein Schokoriegel sein, ein Lolly, ein paar Gummibärchen, ein kleines Spielzeug, ein Haarband...

5) The gift could be a bar of chocolate, a lollipop, some gummibears, a little toy, a hair band etc...

Men, women, friendship and Islam

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"Islam forbids 'unnecessary contact' between men and women"

Can men and women be friends? Just friends? Many Muslims will tell you that Islam forbids "unnecessary contact" between men and women. I have heard (and read) this numerous times since becoming a Muslim. There is talks, lectures, books, articles about the topic, in which Muslim after Muslim explain to you that men and women can't, shouldn't, mustn't be friends. There is family, there is mariage, two areas in which contacts with the opposite gender is legitimate; there is the grey zone of colleagues or classmates whom you need to deal with (unless you live in a country where universities and the workplace are completely segregated); there is strangers on the street (whom you usually don't really engage with anyway), but friendship, just for the sake of friendship between men and women? No. Haram. "Where will it lead?!" - "The line between joking and flirting is fine." - "When a man and a woman are together, Shaitan is the third person present." 

No khalwa; no physical contact; respectful behaviour

I know there is difference of opinion between scholars on the topic but I was taught that a man and a woman must not be alone in a secluded space (khalwa). I was taught that physical contact between members of the opposite gender is forbidden unless you are married or he is your mahram (some might want to add "physical contact when there is attraction", again: difference of opinion). I was taught that you must behave responsibly, sensibly and treat others respectfully. This is, of course, true for men and women but in front of members of the opposite gender it is even more important to maintain some decorum. 

It is useful to set objective limits

All this makes sense to me. Not because I believe that if you are alone in a room with a strange man you will inevitably be all over each other within seconds, or that shaking hands with a man will lead to hugging him will lead to kissing him will lead to (I spare you the rest) ... but because I believe it helps to know how far you can go, because I think it is useful to set (fairly) objective limits regardless of the person you're dealing with, because these rules help avoid confusion and misunderstandings. I respect these rules whenever possible, but I don't see how these tell me not to be friends with someone of the opposite gender.

If...: friendship with conditions

If I avoid being in a secluded space with my male friends, if I don't touch them and if they (and I) behave responsibly, sensibly and treat each other respectfully - why should I not be friends with them? Because "where will it lead?!"? Because "The line between joking and flirting is fine"? Because "When a man and a woman are together, Shaitan is the third person present"? No. 

"Where will it lead?!"

"Where will it lead?!" I am not sure what you are thinking of. Where will it lead?! I have had male friends for over ten years. It has not lead anywhere. I have not had any illicit relationship with any of them. I meet them with other friends or in public, talk to them on the phone or via social media, in short: I do not meet them in a secluded space. They know me. They know about my religion, my values, where my limits are. They respect them. They respect me. They don't hug me. They don't touch me. I don't either. They don't think anything when we talk or meet. And I don't either. They are married or not, I know their wives or girlfriends or not, but it is out of question that there is anything except friendship.

"The line between joking and flirting is fine."

"The line between joking and flirting is fine." No. Whether someone is joking or flirting depends on the intention. As long as my intention is pure, there is no flirting. I might joke with my friends but it is joking, nothing else. I know that and they know that. If I sense that there is more on the other side, I know how to distance myself. If it does not stop, he does not stay my friend. Easy.

"When a man and a woman are together, Shaitan is the third person present."

"When a man and a woman are together, Shaitan is the third person present." If you do believe that this hadith means that a woman should not be in the presence of a strange man without a mahram by her side, then I would urge you not to follow my example and have male friends. I do not believe this is what this hadith means. I was taught this hadith means that men and women are not allowed to be together alone, i.e. in a secluded space. I am not in a secluded space with my male friends, so this point does not apply to my friendships with men. If you are in doubt about how to interpret this hadith, check with a scholar. I did. And follow now what I believe in.

Friends who have lent me more money than I make a month

I would not want to miss my male friends. I have male friends that I can call at midnight and talk to them on the phone for three hours without them or me thinking anything bad. I have male friends who have lent me three times more money than I make a month when I needed it and did not ask twice when I would be able to pay them back. I have male friends who I have been friends with when they were single, in a relationship, engaged, married, divorced. I have male friends who have asked me for advice when they wanted to get married. I have male friends who I can discuss family matters with. I have male friends who will tell me when my headscarf does not go well together with my dress at all. I have male friends with whom I can laugh about stereotypes about Muslim women or the assumptions others make when they see us together.

I am not naive: reputation is important, too...

I am not naive. I am not like this with all of my male friends and acquaintances. I will be more careful in some contexts, not because I think what I do is wrong but because there are other factors that need to be taken into consideration, such as, for example, your (and his) reputation. There is no point in knowing that you have not done anything wrong if everyone believes you have. In situations like this, I will be more careful. (Most of the time. Because if there is nothing wrong with what you do, you cannot always worry about what others will think.)

...and so is knowing that there are black sheep

Another aspect to be taken into account is that no matter how clear the rules are to yourself, there is a risk that they might not be as obvious (or seem as respect-worthy) to him as they are to you. However, as mentioned above, this usually becomes obvious rather quickly. Unless you are completely naive, you can usually tell whether someone has pure intentions or something else on their mind. If you can't distinguish between the two, don't be friends with members of the opposite gender.

Breaking off all contact with male friends after marriage?

I have friends who have broken off all contact with their male friends after they have gotten married. It is your life and you have, of course, the right to do whatever you please, but I don't think I will ever understand. If I believe there is nothing wrong with having male friends, if there is nothing but friendship between me and them - why would I stop all contact with them just because I have gotten married? If my husband does not believe me when I say they are just friends, if he cannot stand that there are other people I like and I am in contact with, if he does not trust me - again, it is your life, but - I don't understand. To me it would be insulting if a man told me to stop having male friends or if he was jealous of my male friends. Don't you trust me? And please don't tell me he says: "I trust you, but I don't trust him!" Erm, excuse me?, who do you think I am, a piece of candy that a man just takes when he pleases without me being able to establish any rules, any limits in our friendship?

They offer a different perspective

I don't believe there is anything wrong with having male friends (if the conditions outlined above are met). Not being able to have male friends would break me. I love my female friends, there is something only they can give me; and I appreciate my male friends, something would be missing if they weren't there. Sometimes they are friends just like my female friends are, but sometimes they are different. Sometimes they make me understand things I, as a woman, would not see. Sometimes they offer a different perspective, speak differently, think differently, view things differently. This is something I, as an individual would not want to miss, but there is also a wider context this comes to play in. I want to be an active member of this society. I want to make a difference to my community, to help change things for the better. If I don't know how men think, how they behave, how they speak, laugh and cry, if I don't know how half of this society functions, how will I be able to contribute to making any impact?

Who defines "unnecessary"?

And this, by the way, is one of the reasons, I cringe when I hear this statement that "Islam forbids unnecessary contact between men and women". Unnecessary? Who defines that? Is it unnecessary for me to work with male colleagues? No, because I need to make money. Yes, because I could work from home. Is it unnecessary for me to study at a university where I sit in lectures held by male professors, side by side with my male classmates, where my thesis supervisor might be male? No, because otherwise I could not get an education. Yes, because I could emigrate to Saudi Arabia and enroll at a local, fully gender-segregated university. Is it unnecessary for me to speak to the male shopkeeper, to buy my groceries from his shop? No, because I need to get groceries. Yes, because for just one pound per delivery I could order them online. Is it unnecessary for me to have male friends? Yes, because why don't you just have female friends? No, because it is not the same; because they are not the same; because my male friends offer a different perspective and make me grow in ways that my female friends don't.

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Palestine in California

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Californian diary, part 2 (part 1)

As soon as we enter the shop, it smells like Palestine. It must be some of the spices, zaatar perhaps? it's been some time, crazy how odours can take you back to a place thousands of miles away. It smells like zaatar, the butcher behind the meat corner in the back of the shop speaks with an Arab accent and in the background some young Arab woman sings a catchy pop tune on the radio. A little bit of Palestine in California. It's hot outside on the street, April in LA is like August in London, but cool inside the shop, thank God for ACs.

Fresh oranges (60 cent the kilogram ... this is California, baby!), bananas, apples, eggplants, tomatoes, cucumbers, bundles of cilandro, basil and dill are piled up to your right. Deep-frozen meat and sausages, all halal, in the huge freezers to your left. Colourful hijabs and abayahs in one corner; the exact same kind of biscuits my friend from Gaza would have for breakfast in Ramallah in another. Two oversized Easter bunnies look down on us customers from the top of one of the huge shelves. There is one aisle with South Asian spices and specialities and one with Turkish delicatessen, to cater to all those who are kind of from that same corner of the world.

Living in the Southwest of the US of A, in an air-conditioned beige house with a car and a garage in the front and the small garden in the back that no-one ever uses anyway. Living in the Southwest of the US of A, buying a little bit of home. Or what used to be home. Or what used to be my parents' home. Because I have only ever been to Palestine once and when I walked over al-Manara in my baggy jeans they called me al-Amreeki.

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The journey

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Californian diary, part 1

When my 100-year-old grandmother's uncle left for the US some time in the late 19th or early 20th century, it was the last time he saw his parents. Letters took weeks, if not months, visits were not really an option.

Today we hop on a plane (ok, one bus, one coach, two planes, and a car) ... and 24 hours later, instead of rainy England we're in sunny California.

Waiting to board the plane in London-Heathrow. A group of loud, bored, fat, white, inconsiderate teenagers walk by. Everything I hate about America. Oh no, we're going to the US... Boarding the plane. Blonde stewardess with red lipstick and a huge smile. Friendly welcome, a wink to Lieschen. She has the same accent as my American friend Mary. Who studied in four universities and speaks five languages. Everything I love about America. Yay, we're going to the US...!

On the plane. Indians to my left, Indians to my right. Germans in the row in front of us. French in the aisle. God-another-seven-hours-on-this-plane conversations with a drunk Scot who hates extremists but doesn't mind Muslims and an Englishman who lives in the States. Discussions about Scottish independence (yes or no), Germans in the UK (us) and Brits in the US (them), South Asian (me) and American (him) spouses. About kids. That grow up somewhere in between.

Landing. Queues. Security. Border agency guys who all have the same strange humour. PhD student from England, originally from Germany, exams coming up in May, right answers, passport stamped, you're in.

Relief. Not that there was any reason, but I'm worried every time. And think of those who didn't make it.

Nina was sent back. Housewife from Romania, going to join husband from Nigeria, no good enough reasons to go back, wrong answers, out.

And that's just us, who can afford a plane ticket, not one of the thousands who try to climb fences, outsmart guards, brave the desert sun...

Dallas. Texas. Yeehaw!

Tired. Late night here, early morning there. Yet another plane. Couple of more hours.

LA. Hello Golden State. Hello US.

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Event: Tackling exclusion in Muslim communities

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"Friday 21 Mar 2014, 18:45 - 20:30 

Abrar House, 45 Crawford Place, W1H 4LP 

Event Details:

It is common to observe that exclusion and discrimination occurs at every level of society, on grounds of race, gender, ethnicity, sexuality, class, politics, age, and more. 

But how far are  British Muslims prepared to address exclusion within our communities and our institutions? Who is being excluded directly or indirectly, ignored and rendered invisible, their concerns unrecognised let alone addressed?

Are we prepared to go beyond our comfort zones to make our institutions more inclusive, welcoming, and reflective of how our communities are today? Join us for a frank discussion of these issues and how we as a faith community might go about tackling them."

Event details: here.

I will complain

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"Beware! Whoever is cruel and hard on a non-Muslim minority, curtails their rights, burdens them with more than they can bear, or takes anything from them against their free will; I will complain against the person on the Day of Judgment.”

Muhammad, Peace be upon him (Abu Dawud)

Das andere Iran

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Fotos aus dem Iran ähneln sich oft: Frauen in langen, schwarzen Gewändern; Männer in wuchernden Bärten; Kopftücher; Hinrichtungen; Massen an Menschen. Das ist das eine Iran. Aber natürlich gibt es auch das andere Iran. Leute, die in oft widrigen Umständen versuchen, ihr Leben so leben, wie es für richtig halten; sich ein kleines Stück Freiheit erkämpfen; Moment finden, in denen sie ganz sie selbst sein können. 

Solche Momente sind es, die der iranische Fotograf Hossen Fatemi in seiner Serie An other view of Iran festgehalten hat. Schöne Bilder sind es, die er zeigt; intensive Bilder; Bilder vom Leben ... die hoffen lassen, dass der Iran eines Tages frei sein wird.

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Integration? Kauf ich mir

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Oder: "Noch so einer" vs. "schön, dass du da bist"

Oder: Hasret und Enes

Hasret ist in ihren Vierzigern. Sie kam als Grundschulkind aus der Türkei, wo sie bei den Großeltern, Mama und Papa waren zum Arbeiten in Deutschland, gelebt hatte, nach Deutschland. Sie machte ihren Abschluss, arbeitete, erkämpfte sich das Medizinstudium, begann ihre Promotion. Heute ist sie Ärztin. Jetzt, wo sie beruflich Fuß gefasst hat, ist auch das Kopftuch nicht mehr so eine Barriere, zu dem es teilweise während ihrer Ausbildung und den ersten Berufsjahren von so manchem Chefarzt oder Uniprofessor gemacht wurde. Sie kann was, man will sie. Ihre Fachwissen und die Erfahrung im Beruf sind gefragt. Ihre Türkischkenntnisse sind ein Plus, die Kulturkenntnisse sowieso. 

Ihr Sohn Enes, so würden manche vielleicht sagen, lebt hier "in der dritten Generation". Als es Zeit für ihn war, in den Kindergarten zu kommen, meldete Hasret ihn im katholischen Kindergarten um die Ecke an. In Laufnähe, und dass den Kindern dort auch religiöse Werte vermittelt wurden, sagte ihr auch zu. Enes bekam den Platz. Alles war paletti, bis Hasrets Mutter den Kleinen zum ersten Mal in den neuen Kindergarten brachte. Sie wurde dort so herablassend, so forsch, so was-willst-du-Gastarbeiter-hier behandelt, dass Hasret sich weigerte, den Kleinen in der Einrichtung zu lassen. Jemandem, der ihre Mutter so behandelte, der solch ein Bild von Deutschtürken, von Muslimen hatte, ihren Sohn anvertrauen? Nein, danke.

Hasret hat das Geld, sie kann es sich leisten - und einige Monate später war Enes in einer Internationalen Schule in der Stadt angemeldet. Der Lehrplan orientiert sich an britischem Vorbild, die Kinder sind - wie auf der Insel - bis nachmittags in der Schule, Enes lernt neben Deutsch und Türkisch jetzt auch Englisch und er ist willkommen. Wäre er in eine der Schulen in dem Viertel, in dem Hasret und ihre Familie bis heute wohnen, einkommensschwach, bildungsfern, gastarbeiterig, gekommen - Enes wäre in einer Einrichtung gelandet, auf der er "noch so einer" gewesen wäre. Wie heißt du? Enes. Aha, schon klar. Und dann noch die Oma mit Kopftuch und türkischem Akzent. Jetzt ist Enes auf einer Schule, auf der man sich freut, dass er da ist, wo er dazu gehört, Teil des Ganzen und Multikulti wie alle anderen ist.Wo Vielfalt willkommen ist, wo Enes willkommen ist.

Hasret hat das Geld, sie kann es sich leisten.

Frauen in der islamischen Theologie

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"Innen und Außenansichten: Frauen in der islamischen Theologie im Spannungsfeld zwischen Religion, Macht und Wissenschaft

Vernetzung, Debatte, Wissenschaftsstrategie

25./26. März 2014

Erlanger Zentrum für Islam und Recht in Europa (EZIRE) an der Friedrich-Alexander-Universität Erlangen-Nürnberg

Obwohl geschlechtersensible Aspekte und Perspektiven durchaus ihren Platz in der islamischen Exegese besitzen, sind diese bisher kaum in der Islamischen Theologie sowie der Forschung darüber präsent.

Frauen werden in ihrer Rolle als Wissensträgerinnen und -vermittlerinnen selten wahrgenommen. Ziel dieser Tagung ist es, Positionen und Personen zu stärken, die sich innerhalb der Islamischen Theologie mit geschlechterspezifischen und –sensiblen Ansätzen beschäftigen und sie mit Forschenden zusammenzuführen, die sowohl historische als auch zeitgenössische Entwicklungen solcher Ansätze dokumentieren und analysieren.

Die Tagung verfolgt neben der inhaltlichen Auseinander-setzung mit einer wissenschaftlichen Debatte das Ziel der Förderung bisher marginalisierter Akademiker_innen."

Hier geht's zum Flyer zur Veranstaltung.

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A Muslim name

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What does a Muslim look like? What is a Muslim name?

What does a German look like? What is a German name?

Dark hair, dark skin, dark eyes? ... Muhammad?

Blonde, blue eyes, rather tall? ... Hans?

But what about Hans who became a Muslim? The blonde Muhammad from next door? Ayet ... who is no less German than she is Muslim ... and Turkish ...

Of course we (well, most of us) know that issues of identity are much more complex than they can sometimes be presented by some, than how at times we see them ourselves...

But in a world in which being a Muslim and being British (German, French, Russian, US American...) are still way too often presented as mutually exclusive - both by Muslims ("what? your name is Lieselotte? but that's not a Muslim name!") and non-Muslims ("oh yes, I agree, interfaith work is so important! it can really help bring Muslims and Germans together" ...), we are in need of reminders reiterating what we tend to forget ... 

... reminders like this series of beautiful photographs by Claire Beckett portraying US American converts to Islam.

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