Nine Parts of Desire

In my quest to learn about the Middle East, I picked up a book called "The Nine Parts of Desire" by Australian Journalist Geraldine Brooks.

First off, I have to devulge my compulsion to indulge myself on Journalistic works about foreign nations, particularly in book form. I cherish the style they use and the frankness employed. Its highly enjoyable. Another book of similar quality is Sarah McDonald's "Holy Cow". It's a reverent and also irreverent look at India, her many faiths and her people, for good or bad. Ironically, McDonald is also Australian and a journalist.

But I must return to the more recent selection. Brooks writes about the different women she meets during her time as a Foreign Correspondent in the Middle East. She spent roughly six years there, from 1987, when the First Intifada was beginning, till 1993. The work bounces from year to year and back and is organized by subject rather than geographical or temporal concerns.

One chapter discusses the harmful consequences of Female Genital Mutilation. My Anthropology Professor deigns to call this Female operation. This label is too sterile. Mutilation implies harm to the body whether self or not, purposefully or not. She recounts the trauma exacted on young girls and what may come of it: horrible infections, painful intercourse and deathly childbirth.

Another chapter deals with Saudi women in 1990 choosing to drive instead of being driven by one of the nation's 300,000 chauffeurs. These women never violated and Sharia, Hadith or Sura of the Qur'an but a week after their demonstration, they were thrown in jail.

Another chapter recoounts the threats and violence against female artists in Egypt. These artists are belly dancers. Belly Dancing is one of Egypt's most well-known and mysterious exports as well as beautiful and ancient artform. However, with women abstaining from performance and adoption of the Saudi preferred veil, dancers are becoming fewer. Brooks talks to a muslim man about the dissapearance of these dancers and he bemoans this. He doesn't want to see them leave either. He does note how once they were banned and later brought back. Then he says they will be back.

This gives me hope as does other chapters and episodes in the book. The first Islamic Women's Games in Iran where a father weeps proudly upon seeing his daughter enter the stadium as the torchbearer at the opening ceremonies. The Palestinian woman still sleeping with her mattress right next to Brooks' even after finding out the journalist was Jewish. The husband who watches the children while his wife goes to school and studies.

There was a time when I actually teared up while reading this book. There is a section that deals with King Hussein and his marriage to Syrian-American Lisa Halaby, aka Queen Noor. I have a soft spot in my heart that few leaders, foreign or domestic, will ever have. He came to Minnesota several times to visit our Mayo Clinic. In fact, he was here for a year and ran the kingdom from a suite at the clinic.

He said he liked it here. We liked him. I do not know if it had anything to do with the supposed Arab money coming in since I do not live very close to Rochester. I do know there was a genuine fondness for him. He was a lively man who despite his age and illness, still seemed vigorous. So I paid special attention to that portion of the book.

After reading this book, I had the uncontrollable urge to never go near the Middle East. I feel scared, claustrophobic and intimidated. Could I ever live there as a Western woman trying to some good? Could I be safe and accepted? Who knows?