The Religious Policeman

Imagine a husband and wife who have lived together as complete strangers for half a century.

Believe it or not, it actually happens here in Saudi Arabia. There are husbands, brothers and sons who have never seen the faces of their own wives, sisters and mothers let alone cousins and aunts. There are wives who never showed their faces to their husbands since they have tied the knot a long or short time ago.

Bear in mind that these husbands will only have seen their wife's face for about 20 minutes, at their one and only pre-wedding meeting. Since the wedding, they've remained veiled for their husbands, and for their children, for years, even for decades.

Children should wonder? I've always had a little trouble with this concept myself. How do you show affection to someone who's always veiled, how do you share those little intimacies, how do you procreate? Perhaps there are people who would get a bit of a thrill from making love to a veiled woman, but after a few decades it's bound to pall. Let's change the subject.

Some don't even let other women see their face.

There was however one situation that struck a chord. Husbands often ask wives how they look. They do it because they're genuinely wanting an opinion, most males being clueless about what to wear or what matches with what. (And a nice thing about living in the Kingdom (Saudi, not United) is that you always wear white, so life is simple). Wives, on the other hand, are usually seeking reassurance. When asked "What do you think of this dress / hairstyle / outfit", they already know the answer, they just want the male to confirm it. So you're faced with a situation where there is only one correct answer and at least ten incorrect ones. "I don't know" or "I'm not sure" or "What do you think" definitely don't cut it. Similarly any half-hearted response is dismissed as mealy-mouthed; they want a definite opinion. Yet you're being tested on a subject you know absolutely nothing about. It's like that nightmare you have, where you're doing the oral exam for Mandarin Chinese and you haven't learnt a word in your life. So you desperately try to read the body language to see which way to jump. Get the "wrong" answer and you suffer for your lack of taste / tact / interest or loyalty. Get the "right" answer and there may well be the dreaded supplementary - "Yes, but why do you think that?"

So I had some sympathy for the man who accidentally saw his wife's face after probably 30 years. Although an accident, it posed the unspoken question, "How have I weathered over three decades?". This man would have seen her for a few minutes as a youth, and not seen her face, or indeed any other woman's, ever since. He probably had no concept of skin aging. He'd certainly never developed a technique for giving the "right" answer.

No, screaming wasn't the best response. If she looked like the Elephant Man, it would perhaps have been understandable. Or if her face had rotted away with leprosy. Or if "she" turned out to be a trans-sexual. But in this case, assuming a wife who had aged normally, I think a little more tact would have been appropriate.

What is of course revealing about the power relationship there, and indeed throughout much of Qassim, is that he was the one who was angry. He wasn't pinned out on the sand. He wasn't made to spend the next month in the camel enclosure. He was allowed the luxury of indulging his anger.

I asked Mrs A what she thought of the idea of a 24 X 7 veil. She said it would be an improvement, but that I should remember to keep it out of my soup. Ouch.