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THE SCARF

“Ye shall certainly be tried and tested in your possessions and in yourselves; and ye shall certainly hear much that will grieve you, from those who received the Book before you and from those who worship partners besides God. But if you persevere patiently and guard against evil, then that indeed is a matter of great resolution.” (3:186)

When I embraced Islam on the 10th of March 1989, for me it was the last step after a long development. 2 ½ years was the time I spend learning on Islam, until my faith had become so strong, that I decided to finally testify my belief. I felt kind of proud, to have taken that step. The last months I had been just putting off this final consequence of my grown conviction.

I had spoken my testimony alone in my room. To change a religion is something quite personal, it is between oneself and God. And it is nobody else's business. So at night I had taken a shower as I had read it in my books. A ritual cleansing precedes the conversion. Then I testified my belief with the following Arabic words: “La ilaha illa Allah, Muhammad al rasul Allah.” “There is no God but God, and Muhammad is his prophet.”
And then I prayed my first obligatory prayer, the evening prayer. I did have memorized before some short passages from the Qur'an to say in the prayer. And now I was about to step for the first time in my live before God in prayer as a Muslim. I faced Mecca, said the beginning words and than recited: ”In the name of God, Most Gracious, Most Merciful. Praise be to God, the Cherisher and Sustainer of the worlds: Most Gracious, Most Merciful; Master of the Day of Judgment. Thee do we worship and Thine aid do we seek. Show us the straight way, the way of those on whom Thou has bestowed Thy Grace, those whose (portion) is not wrath and who go not astray.” (1) Amen.
These words in the language of the Qur'an, Arabic, are recited five times a day by every Muslim throughout the world. Everywhere the obligatory prayer is observed to the same rules. This prayer has so little in common with the Western idea of individualism. Still prayer is a very personal experience, a wholly worship in the truest sense of the word. Man prays with body, mind and soul. He bows and prostrates before God. He praises God in the morning and at night, recites verses from the Qur'an and also talks to Him in his own words. This night I had a lot to say. It turned out to be a long prayer. Somehow it was a new start.

The first one to learn the next day, that I had finally embraced Islam, was Mohamed, my Egyptian neighbor. First he didn’t understand. But then, when he realized that I had really become Muslima, he was very happy.
Not so my mother. By chance she called me the very same day in the student homes. It wasn't so much a surprise for her, as I had never made a secret out of my interest for Islam, but still. She commented: “Everybody has to know for himself, what is good for him. I just hope you didn’t get into something, that you can't get out of again.”

Soon all Arab students in the student homes were informed of my conversion – thanks to Mohamed. And all supported me. In this warm atmosphere even my last doubts about my decision faded away. My new “brothers and sisters” were so friendly. They greeted me on the streets, congratulated me to my decision and welcomed me among the Muslims.
Though sometimes I also sensed a kind of unbelieving wonder in the comments I heard. It doesn't happen every day that a German woman becomes Muslim. So I was asked: “Do you observe the prayer?” Or: “Did you ever read in Qur'an?” But also: “Why aren't you covering with a scarf?”

The scarf! That had to be expected. I had become Muslima. I prayed regularly five times a day according to Islamic rules, didn’t eat any pork or drink alcohol anymore. But with the scarf I had some problems. In Qur'an it states: “O Prophet! Tell thy wives and daughters, and the believing women, that they should cast their outer garments over their persons: that is most convenient, that they should be known and not molested. And God is Oft-Forgiving, Most Merciful.” (33:59)
And: ”Say to the believing men, that they should lower their gaze and guard their modesty: that will make for greater purity for them: And God is well acquainted with all that they do.
And say to the believing women, that they should lower their gaze and guard their modesty: that they should not display their beauty and ornaments except what (ordinarily) appear thereof; that they should draw their veils over their bosoms …” (24:30f.)
According to a tradition going back on the prophet Muhammad, in the presence of not directly related men there shouldn't be seen anything else of a grown woman but her face and hands. That tradition goes back on the following occasion:
(“Does anybody have the hadeeth on Asma’ in English? I don't seem to be finding it ...” )
Directly related men are according to Islamic definition those, to whom there is in Islam an absolute marriage prohibition.  This includes mainly the direct blood relatives, as father, grandfather, brother, son, uncle, but also some other relatives, as e.g. stepson or father in law.
Loose clothing, that covers the body, was acceptable for me. Long sleeves and pants. After all, it was still cold outside. To cover my hair with a scarf on the other hand, seemed to be quite embarrassing. Isn't the scarf even provoking “molestation” in Germany? And is it really necessary, to show off for everybody, to which religion we belong? Important is after all the inner conviction, not the outer appearance. What difference would a piece of cloth make in my new relationship to God?
Still, there was a bad aftertaste. The feeling, not yet to have taken the last consequence.

For the time to be the question of the scarf got thrust into the background by daily life. I was still in spring break and had, as so many students, a job. This year I was working with a big reinsurance company. At noon time I observed my prayers in a little Turkish mosque close to the office. And again I sensed the warm atmosphere among the Muslims. I was welcome in the community. For the first time in my life I prayed my prayers in congregation. Rows of believers, shoulder-to-shoulder, feet-to-feet, united in devotion before God.
It is not surprising, that Islam promotes the congregational prayer. And it isn't surprising, that this prayer appears in every TV report on Muslims. It seems to be a symbol for the unity and strength of the Muslim community. How much sense it makes, that every Muslim all over the world is praying in the same way using the same language. So every Muslim feels right away at home in every mosque.

I nearly felt regrets, when the spring break was over and I had to return to class. But on the other hand I was hoping to get to know some more Muslim students. After all, now I was one of them.
But somehow I seemed to be the only one, who had noticed the change. For all the others I was still the same. They couldn't make me out as a practicing Muslim, and I couldn't make out any practicing Muslims either. There were many students around with Oriental looks, but how should I know, if they were concerned with Islam at all? Should I just walk up to somebody and ask: “Are you a practicing Muslim?”

Well, so I decided, to rather attend the women's meeting one more time. And again arose the question of the missing scarf. I choose to wear it this time. I wouldn't loose anything by adjusting to the environment.
Consequently here the change was noticed immediately: “Hey, you have become Muslima? Well, that's a fast development…” “And already covering?” Ehmmm. Well, usually not, only today and here.
That didn’t minder the enthusiasm of the women. “Never mind. That's not so important at the beginning. Don't let anybody push you.”
 That was what I thought … till I realized what I just had heard. What was “at the beginning” supposed to mean? It wasn't that evident to me, that I would ever cover at all.
After the lesson while sitting together with tea and cake the subject of this troublesome piece of cloth was reopened.  Heide-Khadija explained to me, what the scarf meant to her: “The covering for women is a protection for them in society. Actually in German society, women base their self-confidence greatly on her body looks. Beauties as e.g. famous Models are taken as role models, women spend their time dieting, styling their hair to complicated looks and dressing according to the newest fashion. Fashion, that is of course designed to underline the beauties of the female body.
But who can reach the ideal? It is a shame that especially young girls often can't stand this kind of pressure and end up being ill with all kinds of eating disturbances like bulimia, that have become so common in Western societies.
Is a woman covering according to Islamic rules, she isn't exposed anymore to the appraising glance of every person walking by. Neither will she be compared to all those ever-present shining beauties of the commercial world, smiling down on us from the advertisement boards.
Islamic dress of women doesn't only protect the dignity and psyche of women, but also protects the stability of society. Unfortunately the values of “marriage” and “family” aren't that important anymore in the West. Just have a look at our German society. The high divorce rates. What do think, how many pupils in my class were raised by a divorced parent? And the reason for the divorce in many cases still is a third person. What really shouldn't be a surprise. The working man is day in day out in the job surrounded by dressed up women with a nice hair looks and decent make-ups. On the other hand his wife at home, to exaggerate a little, welcomes him in jogging pants and curlers. At home we relax.
In Islam everything is different. “Beautiful” is a woman at home with her husband. Outside there is no necessity for her, to coquet with her body charms.
Because the constant comparison with other women is missing in Islam, also the often observed thinking of competition between women becomes less important. So after all, the Islamic dress code makes a lot of sense.”
I was stunned. I had never regarded it this way. My first reaction to this speech was obvious. I asked Heide: “So why aren't you covering?”
“Well. I try. In winter I always pulled my scarf over my hair, you know that. But it is not so easy. To tell you the truth, I don't have the courage. What would the neighbors say? And my family?”
I addressed the women with scarf: “How about you? Do you experience discrimination?”
Nadja, the daughter of Maryam, the group leader, answered me first: “It is not all that bad. But sometimes unpleasant things happen. I am studying medicine. At my first day at university I was standing in the hall, kind of lost, trying to figure out, where to go. A man walked up to me and said: “Hey, you. Bucket and broom back there.” I later learned, that this happened to be my professor for anatomy.”
Fatima-Elizabeth, the German student to become a teacher, said: “When I once parked the car in the city, an elderly man remarked to his wife: ‘Look, now they are even given drivers licenses to Turks!’”
Gulsen, a Turkish student of law described a visit at the municipal office: “And when the lady gave me my forms, she had already filled in the field for occupation:  ‘worker’.”
Nadja commented bitterly: “The problem is, that people think, scarf on the head is like a board of wood in front of the head. (German saying: "Kopftuch auf dem Kopf ist wie Brett vorm Kopf." "Brett vorm Kopf" means, to be a little limited in matter of intelligence…)
Rukaya, a German secretary, said: “But seriously, it is exactly as Khadija has described. In the modern enlightened society only that counts, what you see. Nobody observes, what stands behind. Education or character is secondary. And that's what should be different in Islam. Women should be regarded as personage.”
I was surprised that in spite of all the negative experiences these women were fully supportive of the scarf.  I just couldn't understand.
So I began my retreat: “At the moment the scarf is out of question for me anyhow. I am living in student homes. Every time I would need to go to the shared kitchen or bathroom I would have to cover.” Laughter broke out. “And I” smiled Ayscha, housekeeper and mother, “and I have to cover, when I water the flowers on my balcony.”
Sabine, the nurse, whose father had thrown her out of the house because of the scarf, remarked: “You as a student shouldn't have too many problems in the first place. You are living alone and nobody puts his nose in your life. Living with parents it would be much harder. Or at work.”
The discussion became more and more unpleasant for me. So it was a nice turn, that finally the subject was changed when Ayscha asked: “What about Ahmed's class. When is the next meeting?” Rukaya answered: “It'll start again this week. Wouldn't you like to come as well, Anja? But I have to warn you. It is highly scientific.”
I was told, that Ahmed was a German Muslim, who was studying Oriental Studies at the university, just like me. But he was already quite advanced in his studies. And he held a class on Islamic theological questions for these women. I was curious to learn what he might be teaching them. In regard to my studies it could be useful. So I asked for the exact time of class.

On time I arrived at the lecture room of the Turkish Islamic organization. Because of the class I again had decided to wear a scarf. Though I still wasn't even close to being convinced of its use.  Here at class this was a different story. All women, about 20 were there, were covering. Also it was a sign of considerateness for the Gentleman teaching us.
We sat down again on the floor, this time forming the letter "U".  Then our teacher, announced as “brother Ahmed” entered the room. So that was him. A German Muslim, in his mid twenties. He was wearing a reddish beard and dressed with long wide pants, sweatshirt and on his head a little handcrafted cap.  Later I learned, that he was always wearing a cap. The rumor was going, the reason for this would be solidarity with the covering “sisters”. He took his place a little above the opening of the U, but, for me quite unexpected, not facing us, the listeners, but rather the wall at the side. As if that wouldn't be sufficient, he then placed his case between us and himself. A consequent application of the Qur'an verse: “Say to the believing men, that they should lower their gaze and guard their modesty: that will make for greater purity for them....” (24:30) For me it was quite unusual. Isn't it even considered unpolite not to look the person, you are talking to, into the eyes? That seemed to become quite a lecture.
Actually the lecture turned out somewhat different from what I had expected. This young man had acquired an astonishing knowledge. It seemed, that he could reproduce whole scientific books out of memory. This day he lectured on science of Hadeeth. A Hadeeth, that is a report of what the prophet said, did or tolerated. And that is of importance for Muslims, as the example of the prophet Muhammad, his “Sunnah”, is recommended as example for the believers.
The science of Hadeeth is more correctly a critic of Hadeeth. It features a historic critical outlook on the authenticity of Hadeethes. Every Hadeeth consists of a text and a chain of transmitters. “X heard from X heard from X…, that the prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him, has said:…” A scientist of Hadeeth will examine the credibility of each and every one of the transmitters according to different criteria as biography, reputation, ability to memorize, and the like. The text itself is among other criteria examined for use of language, which needs to be fitting to the time of origin.
Bukhari, to take an example, who is one of the most important collectors of hadeeth in Muslim history, collected throughout his journeys more than 600.000 reports. After close examination he included only 7.400 of them into his famous collection of Hadeeth. “Sahih al-Bukhari” is up to today one of the major works, on which Islamic theology and law base. “Sahih” (healthy) is the Arabic term for a Hadeeth, of which the authenticity is regarded as near certain.
For each degree of certainty as well as for every criteria of examination there are of course different Arabic terms. Ahmed had everything prepared on handouts. Also he had brought - of course - lots of historical examples for the appliance of the different criteria and added the biographies of some of the best known transmitters.
And then he surprised us with an exam. “After all, I want to see, if you are learning something in class.” He smiled.
Obviously I wasn't he only one who was overwhelmed by the amount of information we got. So the exam soon turned into a session of questions about what we had heard.  After a little while the subject broadened. with some of the women using the chance to ask other questions: “That doesn't really belong to the subject, but I have always wanted to ask this…” The questions related to our daily life: “When I participate at the swimming for Muslim women, what am I supposed to wear?” – “May I take medication that contains alcohol?” – “How is this with perfume?” That were subjects, which were of interest for all of us.  So soon a lively discussion evolved: On the adequate swimming dress, that women should wear in front of other women. According to Islam she should cover the body only from the navel (!) to the knee. But who enters a swimming pool with bare breasts? And on the possibility to substitute necessary medication in liquid form, that contain alcohol, with medication in form of tablets and pills. Shouldn't there be any such alternative, the consumption of the medication is of course allowed. And also the prohibition of alcohol in context with perfume was discussed. Quote Ahmed: “Well, do you intend to drink it?”
Ahmed seemed to be a never ending source of information. Though he sometimes voiced a desperate: “Sisters, please, let us get back to our subject.” He still readily answered every question.
All taken together, this class left quite an impression with me. That was mostly due to the lecturer, whom I soon was to meet again.

In the meantime at university classes had started as well. And still, with the exception of Heide, hardly anybody knew that I now was Muslima. But that should soon change. Claudia, a friend at university, had taken the news of my conversion without too many comments. She herself was a practicing Christian, but tolerant enough to let other convictions exist.
This term we were both attending a class in calligraphy. The teacher was an artist. Some of his Arabic calligraphic work had been displayed at exhibitions.  He tried to teach not only the right way to use the pen while doing the letters, but also how to divide the space, so that the complete calligraphy forms an esthetic unit. In the first session he himself had carved pens for us out of bamboo, which he had gotten from the zoo. In the second session we started the practical work. Claudia and I had our ink in front of us and began to practice. At the beginning we just tried easy letters, but it was a lot of fun.
Suddenly the door opened and Ahmed entered. He talked a little with the teacher and then came up to us to have a look at our work. Obviously he also was quite firm in questions of calligraphy. Claudia asked him over at our table to show her, how to handle the bamboo pen correctly.  He readily offered his help, got himself a chair and opened a pencil case, in which he was carrying about 5 bamboo pens in different sizes. He mentioned that he also was making his pens himself. At home he had some more, but those sizes here were the absolute minimum. Then he asked permission, to use our ink, and began to show us some things.
After a while he addressed me saying: “I do know Claudia already. But I think we haven't met yet. What is your name?” He hadn't recognized me without the scarf.
So I introduced myself and said: “But I know you. I attended your class in the Turkish center.”
“How? You are saying you are Muslima?” His chair flew back about a meter. I was speechless. He on the other hand seemed to have regained his speech immediately: “How could I have ever guessed. You are not covering.” I replied, that I had just converted a short while ago. Ahmed thought, this was great, but: “A Muslima who is not covering of course doesn't have the same value as a Muslima who does cover.”
Slowly anger arose in me. How arrogant! And I had always thought, Muslims don't judge on the outer appearance.
After class I ran into Mohamed, my Egyptian neighbor, who was with one of his friends. Still angry I told them, what had happened in class. At first they didn’t say anything. Then one of them said: “Well, he shouldn't have told you so directly.”
I exploded: “Is that supposed to mean, he is right?”
This day I said a lot more about Muslim men, that I can't and won't repeat here. The gentlemen remained silent. Arab culture teaches, in cases like this to hold one's tongue is better then to engage in a fight.
After a while I calmed down. I took this incident as my first encounter with Muslim chauvinism. And I planned, not to have men order me around in my new religion either.

On the next day in between two classes I had some spare time and was standing in the hallway of the Oriental institute talking with Claudia and Nurten. Nurten was a Turkish girl from our Arabic class. She was a friend of Heide.
Another girl joined us. She was studying Oriental Studies at the Hamburg university. She was waiting for our director to ask with him about the possibilities to complete her studies at our University.  Caroline, that was her name, had seen us and taken the opportunity to ask us about our classes. We told her about the contents, the professors and teachers.  After a while Claudia and Nurten had to go to the library. And now it was my turn to ask Karolin about the Studies program in Hamburg. While she was talking, Ahmed entered the hallway. Because of his cap he could as usual be easily made out as a Muslim. When Karolin noticed him, she turned towards me and whispered: “Do you also have these annoying converts around? In Hamburg they are always making problems.”
In spite of my anger of the day before suddenly I felt a kind of solidarity with Ahmed. “I am myself one of those “annoying” converts at our university.” Karolin glanced at me with surprise: “No, I am talking about those Germans, that become Muslim. Those awfully pious people.”
“I did understand you quite well. I also have become Muslima.”
In this moment the door in front of us opened and out came the director she had been waiting for. So with a last haughty glance on me she turned around to talk to him and left me standing there without even greeting.

This term I was for the first time enrolled in a series of lectures by professor Falaturi, Iranian and Muslim. He was actually the only practicing Muslim teaching at the institute. And he probably only got to teach, as he had already been hired a long time ago.  Originally he had studied Philosophy. During all the years of teaching Islamic studies he had achieved a high reputation in this subject. He was dreaming of tolerance and a peaceful coexistence of religions. In his lectures he covered subjects like interreligious dialogue or Islam in his cultural appearance all over the world. He always invited lots of guest lecturers, professors, ladies and gentlemen, from diverse institutes and nationalities as well as theology professors from diverse convictions. There was always great interest in his lectures. Many listeners came from different majors or even from outside the university. Journalists, Preachers, and Muslims, who wanted to educate themselves.  I was sitting beside Denise, another student from my Arabic class.  Some “sisters” from the Muslim women's group were attending the lecture. Heide,  Sabine and Maryam, later was generally noticed because of her high age among all the students. And of course Ahmed was there, who as me was studying Oriental Studies.
Shortly before the lecture ended, Maryam got up and left the room. Denise looked at her with a disapproving glance.  She asked me: “Did you know, that she is German? I just can't get it how any woman who isn't out of her mind can do anything like that.” I asked: “Like what?” “Well, like becoming Muslim!” she replied. “Doesn't everybody know how bad this religion is for women?”
And again I testified my faith: “I can understand her quite well. Actually I have also become Muslima.”
“Youuuuu?” And then came a for me completely unexpected remark: “And why aren't you wearing a scarf? You are not even standing up for your religion! You are not consequent. I think that is not right.”
This critic from an unexpected side hit the point. Again I began to think about the covering, After the experiences of the last week I began to understand, how the covering is making sense. The sense that is already noted in the Qur'an: ”… that they should be known and not molested. …” (33:59)
“Known”, that was the word, I had never really noticed. Denise was right. I wasn't consequent. I had become Muslima, but I didn't want to bear the consequences. I wanted to look like the others. But I wasn't like the others anymore. Suddenly I didn’t want to hide my faith anymore. I wanted to openly stand up for my religion.
Ahmed was right. A Muslima without scarf isn't of as much value for Islam as a Muslima with scarf. As the Muslima, who is not known as such, is shirking her responsibilities in society.  She doesn't stand up for her faith. Not to mention, that she sweeps the Islamic commandment to cover under the carpet. “It is not fitting for a believer, man or woman, when a matter has been decided by God and His messenger, to have any option about their decision: If anyone disobeys God and His messenger, he is indeed on a clearly wrong path.” (33:36)
As believers we trust in God's wisdom. Take e.g. the prohibition to consume pork. For a long time Western science taught, this prohibition was to be understood in the context of trichinas in pork. Especially in the climatic conditions of the Orient the consumption of pork was dangerous. But in Europe of today the prohibition doesn't make any sense anymore.
Till scientists began to discover other factors that make pork not too healthy.  Who knows, what there still is to be found out in the future? Today pork vanishes more and more from the menus of the West. A late move, if you consider that the first known Godly prohibition of the consumption of pork goes back on Moses and the Jewish law.
The same applies by the way for circumcision of men that is also highly recommended in Islam. Modern medicine acknowledges positive effects of circumcision. Did you know for example, that the risk to get a certain form of cancer is lower for circumcised men as well as for their female sexual partners? God's commandments generally are explainable, even if it will take us some more time to really understand the sense they make. Actually in this way God's commandments are a great challenge for science. That is for those scientists, who want to confirm commandments through scientific knowledge as well as those scientists, who are looking for contradictions between Qur'an text and scientific knowledge. Up to now there haven't been any contradictions found. What speaks against trust in God so long?

So again there was only one logical consequence for me. I trusted in God's wisdom and about six weeks after my decision to become Muslim started to cover according to the Islamic commandment. According to my brother the worst thing that ever happened in our family.

Bad. That was the scarf indeed for my family. My becoming Muslim had been an invisible stain. But a scarf can't be hid that easily. Only my father stood up to his motto of life right from the beginning: “I am not interested in what other people say.”
My grandma didn’t know about my conversion at all till I began to wear the scarf. I called her the morning before my first visit with the scarf to prepare her for my different looks. And I told her of my conversion to Islam. Immediately my grandmother began to cry, and I heard her sob through the phone: “Now you are going to hell” before she put down the receiver.
Till the visit in the afternoon she had calmed down noticeably. Right away she started a discussion on Islam and Christianity, the first of many to follow. She took the fight on.

My mother, who once had left the church because she considered its views as to narrow, had the most problems to handle my new life. “How can one choose a religion, that limits the personal freedom in such a way?” The scarf was to her like the bitter pill that made her shortcomings in my raising visible for everybody. Still she left me my freedom: “Do, what you think is right. To handle this is my problem, not yours.”

With the rest of my family the rumor went, as I soon learned from my grandmother, the scarf would be a phase, that would certainly soon be over. So nobody talked to me on the subject. I was treated completely normal, as if nothing had happened at all. And I thank God, that this attitude hasn't changed. Though the “phase” is already lasting 9 years and there isn't an end in sight.

With the scarf my religion now really became visible for everyone. And again, as on becoming Muslim, I was a little bit proud to have found the courage for this step. I believed myself to be on the best way to perfect my religion. Today it surprises me, how narrow my own view of Islam still was at that time. The real meaning of being Muslim I wasn't to understand until much later.
But back then I wasn't only feeling pride. I also was still very excited about the scarf.  When I decided to cover, the same evening I had a long conversation on the phone with Heide. I told her about my intention, to go to university covered the following day. Spontaneously she decided to use the opportunity to make it two. We could begin to cover together. I thought this to be a great idea.
The next morning, full of new self-confidence I put on my scarf. At the beginning my Islamic dress still looked kind of adventurous. Jeans, long shirt and a scarf, shortly tied up, and decorated with pearl embroidery. This scarf I had brought home as a souvenir from my holidays in Egypt. Well, from where was I supposed to get so sudden a completely new wardrobe?
Still that morning I spent more than half an hour in front of the mirror. Somehow I wasn't too pleased with my reflection. I tried several ways to tie the scarf. I corrected a little on one side and pushed some hair under it from the other side. But still the scarf looked crooked. Some time in between I nearly gave up. But then I didn’t have any more time. So the scarf stayed as it was at that moment, and I left the building.
 Already in the tram I observed the first reaction to my scarf. A young woman looked at me for quite a while and then turned to her companion, asking: ”Did you see the report on Turkish families that was on TV yesterday? Isn't it depressing, how they live?”
Once at the university it went surprisingly smooth. Heide didn’t come, but Denise, the girl, that had sat beside me during the lecture.  She smiled at me: “I think, that's great!”
That day I was also attending a class at the geographical institute. Heidrun, the girl, with whom I was doing my term paper that term, asked me really worried, what had happened. The news, that I had become Muslim, calmed her down. “Ahhh. And I was afraid you might have trouble with your ears.”
The next morning I already managed to tie the scarf a little quicker. I slowly got used to wearing the scarf. To or three times I forgot to put in on, when I left my room in the student homes. But that was no problem. Actually I did hardly have any problems with covering. Even the environment didn’t seem so hostile, as I had expected. Everywhere I met interest in my new religion. I answered questions and discussed my faith with people on the streets, in the tram or the waiting room at my doctor's.
What I still didn’t know at that time was, that the real problem with the scarf does develop gradually through time in the minds of the women covering. When the first weeks are over, when the scarf ceases being new and exciting, when it has become a normal part of life, but the comments don't stop. In the tram, on the street, while shopping or visiting offices. No matter where you are. No matter whom you meet. Again and again you hear the same questions and give the same answers.
Some contemporaries just display a harmless curiosity: "Are you a nun?” Well. I guess that is the first association to a German woman covering. Children associate differently: “Have you become Turkish?”
Actually you are quite frequently mistaken for a foreigner. The janitor of the student homes asked me to translate Turkish for him. Heide was asked at the ice cream parlor with raised fingers, how many balls she'd like: “Two or Three?” Has one noticed, that the woman with scarf speaks German, there comes the obligatory next question: “Where have you learned to speak German that well?”
Another standard comment I hear especially during the summertime is: “Isn't it too hot under the scarf?”
Other people are a little more educated. They tell me: “A scarf does really belong only in the Orient with the hot desert climate” That makes me wonder if it is less hot for the women in the desert than for those in our moderate latitudes? Others know: “Muslim women don't need to wear a scarf in the first place!” The proof? “The wife of the King of Jordan isn't wearing one either.” For this group it is incomprehensive how a German woman can become Muslim: “Haven't you read Betty Mahmoody?”
Other people are less interested in the question “How could she …”, but rather observe the scarf as a disturbing factor. So I was greeted on the street while shopping with a forward hold hand and : “Heil Hitler!” When standing at the tram station somebody shouted: “Here is Europe! Go home!” And when I was on a picnic with some friends, a passant commented: “Look at that “trash”. One friend was asked at the register office of her city after she married a Moroccan man, how long she still intended to stay in Germany.
There comes a time where you get tired of all the silly comments. Yes, even the few positive remarks, as: “I think you are courageous to wear a scarf.” start to get on your nerves. In time you develop a kind of paranoia. You feel, you are not recognized as person anymore, but rather as scarf. All negative, that might happen while interacting with other people, is immediately put in context to the scarf.
If at the bakery customers, who came in later, are first served, the reason is of course the scarf: “Certainly the shop attendant didn’t serve me right away, because I am wearing a scarf.” The same when in the tram the controller asks for your ticket first: “Muslims are considered potential fare dodgers.” Or when the bad tempered office clerk doesn't even show the slightest hint of a smile. Would you be dressed “normally”, he certainly would have been friendlier.
Some Reader might have recognized himself in the list of remarks and will say right now: “But I meant well. If you are wearing the scarf, you have to expect, that people are interested.”
That's right. I completely agree with you. The problem isn't the interest. The problem is that most people I meet, believe to know more on Islam than I do. The faith in media is so big, that a statement of an “expert” in TV generally is more true than my daily experiences. After all, he is allowed to appear on TV, and I am not.
Islam is seen as a threat, Muslim women as oppressed and the scarf as a symbol for their oppression. The woman, wearing it, is seen as limited – in every regard. A poor creature, that has to be taken by the hand and led into the 20th century.
Actually mostly people talk about Muslim women, and not with them. If they should ever be asked anything, certainly on the subject of the role of women. The Muslim woman is not considered to have anything to say about other subjects as e.g. politics or economy.
Actually this is the kind of incapacitation, that Muslim women in Germany complain about: They are denied the ability to think for themselves.

But in those first days, when I wore my new scarf at university, I was still full of optimism. The beat remedy against prejudices is to contradict them through our actions. Muslim women shouldn't let themselves categorize. They should prove that there is more in them, than German society presumes. Just the presence of scarves at university or the general existence of German Muslimas should be thought provoking. I planned, to become a self-confident covered woman and as such to find my place in society.