Eyebrows...

The original title of this post was "eyebrows and jihad." If you're reading this and I kept it as such, know that there was some inner debate.

So this morning, I was looking intently into the mirror and doing my best to deal my eyebrows, and keep the wonderful shape created for me years ago by dear Noor, on her living room floor. (...fret not, fair friends. I was NOT attempting to thread my own brows, as I did a few years back. For those of you who are unaware that I followed a YouTube tutorial whilst trying to thread my own eyebrows, it did indeed happen, and yes, I managed to tear a nice chunk of skin off my eyelid. Pinterest. YouTube. There is a theme of bloodletting here. Perhaps I should stay away from do-it-yourself projects...)

Anyway, it reminded me of a personal story (or two) I thought I'd share...

Noor was my neighbor when I lived in the Albany Park neighborhood of Chicago. One of my roommates at the time spoke Arabic and helped to settle refugees in our neighborhood. Most of them were from Iraq, but some were from the Sudan, Afghanistan, and other places. One of the people whom she'd helped to settle was Noor, who lived in the building next to ours. She was born and married in Afghanistan and then lived in India for over 20 years. Though she was probably only about 15 years older than me at the time, life had not been kind to her, and aside from her brilliant smile (with a gap or two) and curious eyes, she was most definitely weathered.

As it turns out, she was a forced laborer, (i.e. slave) at a salon, and her name was a disgrace. I hesitate to write this, lest I get her in trouble, and I want to change her name, but I want to highlight a few things with this story. (This is not a rant. I am merely providing you with information...)

First, her state of employ. She and her husband had come to America for a better life, and to increase their earning potential, so as to care for aging parents in other parts of the world. She worked at a salon on Devon and threaded brows for $5 per appointment. As it turned out, the salon owner would keep half her wages, AND her tips. So she was forced to work 6 to 7 days per week, in 10-12 hour shifts, and was threatened with being let go or turned into the authorities for failure to pay taxes, if she missed a day, tried to hide her tips or complained.

(I think of her quite a lot and regret not having done more for her. Perhaps you all will have some ideas of what to do about the plight of people like Noor...)

According to my roommate, this type of forced labor was quite common among the refugees she helped to settle. Most of them had skills like braiding, weaving, threading, and could easily find employment in the cheaper salons. Most had little proficiency in English--there were free classes available, but no time to attend them, since caring for parents and multiple children is costly. Also, since the husbands income usually went toward paying for his parents and other wives...more on that in a moment-- and because usually their other option was to work the night shift for minimum wage cleaning toilets at one of the airports, making people feel beautiful had a greater payoff, even if it meant working in fear.

Yes. Right. Now for names and other wives.

I learned from my roommate that in Muslim culture, in some countries, when a woman has a child, she is no longer known by her birth name, but by a term in Arabic meaning "Mother of...child's name." If you are not "Mother of..." it meant you were unable to have children. Perpetual disgrace in said culture, and always the woman's fault...or considered a curse, meaning you were ostracized. Further, if you were known as "Mother-of- [insert girl's name]" you were looked down upon, and expected to keep having children until you became "Mother-of-a-boy's-name"...

Right. So Noor was one of the lucky ones. Because "she" was unable to have children, it was grounds for her husband to divorce her, which he did not, nor did he beat her, which I learned was common practice. Nor did she have to live with his mother, who would have beaten her, too...also common practice. (...again, not a rant, just sharing what I learned in her living room whilst having my brows threaded...by a professional...)

Now for the other wives part...should it be part 2 tomorrow? That's where my story comes in...(-: Someone was groomed to be a second wife...yep. Me.

Stay tuned! <3