Saudi: Everyday Breakdown

Saudi director Haifa Al-Mansour said it best; everyday life in Saudi Arabia is hard, and these difficulties "build up and can break a woman down". 

It's in the details; knowing that your most significant life decisions cannot be made without a male guardian's permission. Asking for help from a man, only to be ignored because he doesn't want to speak to a female. Being late to an appointment because your driver doesn't show up on time, or because there is no public transportation and you're not permitted to drive yourself. The man who tells you to cover your face because it's a "sexual temptation", or the man who hits on you thinking you are a woman with no morale simply because your face isn't covered. The man who refuses to sit next to you on an airplane, or who refuses to shake your hand when he's introduced to you, all because you are a woman. 

It's not every man who is like this, but there are enough around to keep women constantly on guard.

Sometimes it doesn't feel human.

If you wear niqab and wear too much eye make-up...they will call you a temptress. 

If you wear hijab and show your face....they will question your purity.

If you choose not to cover your hair...they will doubt your faith. 

If you cover your entire body in black...they will believe you are holy.

Appearance is everything, and they are most comfortable with women who are entirely unseen and unheard. The women who are seen are simply asking to be disrespected. 

A society consumed by public image, in every way imaginable;

Shorten your thob and grow a beard to be considered the "better Muslim". 

Take a loan out of the bank to buy a car you cant afford to "buy our respect". Yes, it is for sale. 

Lather yourself in French and Italian designer clothes, let it be a reminder of the producers power over the consumer.

Complain about your maid or your driver, but don't be ashamed that you're violating their human rights.

Do whatever the hell you want, just make sure you pray five times a day. 

Let the empty streets comfort you. 

Find humanity inside the malls.  

-B. Al-H. 

Article: Social Divisions Hinder Saudi Rights Movement

My Article in Al-Monitor, on complications of the human rights movement in Saudi Arabia: http://www.al-monitor.com/pulse/originals/2013/05/saudi-arabia-human-rights.html

The Destruction of Saudi Medina

My Article for Free Arabs on the spiritual destruction of the Holy City of Medina under the Saudi regime:

"Saudi Medina's Descriminations":
http://www.freearabs.com/index.php/society/81-stories/537-jb-span-saudi-jb-span-medina-s-discrimination-s

Saudi Arabia: On Losing Control in Qatif & Qassim

 My article on the similarities of demands in Qatif and Qassim, two cities traditionally know to be very different, and what that means for the Saudi government:
http://muftah.org/saudi-arabia-on-losing-control-in-qatif-and-qassim/

Will a Child Rapist Walk Free?

My article for Newsweek's Daily Beast:

Will a Child Rapist Walk Free?

Nightmare in Saudi Arabia: Plight of Foreign Workers

My Article for Newsweek Daily Beast on the Dire and Often Slave-Like conditions migrant works may face in Saudi Arabia (Applies to GCC and many other Arab countries as well):

http://www.thedailybeast.com/articles/2013/01/14/nightmare-in-saudi-arabia-the-plight-of-foreign-migrant-workers.html

Combatting Child Marriage in Saudi Arabia

My Article on combatting Child in Marriage in Saudi Arabia, published by Muftah:
http://muftah.org/combatting-child-marriage-in-saudi-arabia/#.UO7EFlFLcas.twitter

Propaganda & Sectarianism; How the Saudi Government Stifles the Truth about Qatif

My Latest Article on recent events in Qatif, published by Muftah:
http://muftah.org/propaganda-sectarianism-how-the-saudi-government-stifles-the-truth-about-qatif/

Precious Moments with Saudi Religious Police

Some days I wear hijab, somedays I don't.

Being new to Riyadh, I was not accustomed to the common harassment from religious police to "cover my face". In most other cities in Saudi Arabia it's rather rare to experience a run in with the country's notorious religious police, and I never had to deal with it until moving to Riyadh.

A day prior - with my hair fully covered by Hijab - a frustrating argument arouse when 4 religious police followed me and insisted that I cover my face. I explained my reasonable condition; (as a crowd inconveniently began to surround us) only if the four religious police would first cover their faces would I cover mine. Upset by my remark, and perhaps in attempt to appear in control of the situation in the eyes of the gathered spectators, they summoned a police officer to "escort" me out of the mall.

Frustrated by the prior days events, I decided that day to leave my little black scarf behind at home. No scarf, no tool for which to cover my face with.

I waltzed into Riyadh Gallery Mall, grabbed a coffee and took a pathetic stroll along the indoor mall river. About half-way through my coffee, I heard a voice summon from behind; "Fear God and cover your hair, the end of the world is nearing..."

I turned and saw a familiar sight; a young man with a long beard, shortened thob, and shymagh draped over his head without an 'agal; surely religious police. Thinking myself to be clever, I replied "Ooops! I left the scarf at home". He gave me glare, then I swear he almost smiled as he disappeared.

I delighted in my victory over him; the second half of my coffee was more delicious than the first, and the indoor river became more magical. I felt myself more free and powerful than when I had first began the coffee.

The victory was short lived; "girl!" I heard a familiar voice call from behind me. The same young man who had just disappeared had reappeared with a small GAP bag in hand that he was stretching out towards me in ofference. I froze, absolutely confused. Receptive to my confusion, he reached into the bag and pulled out a small blue scarf with a subtle design and fresh GAP tags hanging from it.

He bought me a scarf! I covered my mouth as I embarassingly started laughing. He looked around confused by my reaction, unsure as to how he should interpret my laughter. I shook my head refusing to take the bag, he insisted and looked very pleased as I finally took the bag. "God be with you", he told me. "He always is", I replied.

Though I don't appreciate or agree with the religious police, rather than try to get my point across I decided to let him win. An image of a little girl who often begged in a dirty clothes and hijab in a market near my home popped into my mind. I told the driver to pass by that market on the way home. Sure enough the little girl was there begging, I stretched out my hand with the GAP bag in ofference, in the same way the religious police man had done to me.

She took the bag and gave me a HUGE smile as she pulled the new scarf out of the bag to examine, an instantly put it on her head.

Somedays I wear Hijab, Somedays I don't.

Saudi Arabia's Failing Reformation

My Latest Article on the failing reformation in Saudi Arabia, published by Your Middle East:

http://www.yourmiddleeast.com/opinion/bayan-perazzo-saudi-arabias-failing-reformation_11775

Saudi Arabia Tracking Women: The Real Story

My latest piece was published by Muftah.org, addressing the media outrage over a "SMS" tracking system; I argue the SMS system doesn't change much and it is nothing new, and this international outrage should be directed at the oppressive guardianship system still in place in Saudi Arabia.

http://muftah.org/tracking-saudi-arabias-women-the-real-story/

One Being Born with the wrong reproductive parts to travel alone...

All the recent rage on theSaudi  guardianship laws (LOVE rage on this subject) reminded me of one of my own stories:

I found myself sitting alone in the back of a taxi on a late Friday night in Saudi Arabia, it was the end of my weekend and I was on my way from the West coast city of Jeddah to a small village in AlBaha where work was awaiting me the next morning.

Very few flights left from Jeddah to AlBaha, especially on the last day of the weekend. It would have been most economic and practical for me to rent a car and drive it myself (having done my high school years in the USA, I was a fully capable driver at 15 years old). However, due to the driving ban on women in the Kingdom, the only option left for me to make it to work in time the next morning was to hire a taxi to take me the 4 hour drive. I hired a taxi driver my friend knew and trusted. We passed through most of the checkpoints undisturbed, however about 30 minutes out from my home by the campus where I worked; we were stopped by the poilce.

They didn’t seem concerned with the taxi driver; but with the women sitting alone in the back of a taxi. Two of the police officers at the check point directly came around the car and opened my door. Without greeting me and with a condescending look one asked me directly where my husband was. His face grew even more concerned when I replied that I was not married. The second police officer chimed in and asked me where my father was. I replied that my father worked in America; and the first police officer barked “So your brother! Where is your guardian?”. “I’m my own guardian”, I replied with confidence. “Oh no no no, they both shook their heads, this is a big problem.” One officer took my ID and put it in his chest pocket, and told me to come with them.

I sat alone in the back of their police car watching them for about two hours while they sat and chatted, drank some tea, smoked their cigarettes, laughed together, and finally interrogated the taxi driver and let him go. Finally frustrated and tired I got out of the car and started walking, “What are you doing girl?” one officer yelled at me. “I’m walking home”, I replied without looking at them or stopping, “I have work tomorrow morning and I won’t be late because of your non-sense.” None of them dared touch me to stop me. So I continued walking as they scurried alongside me trying to convince me to stop.  In their panic one officer asked me where I worked, I replied, and he took my ID out of his pocket and looked at my name. Something seemed to click in his mind, he stopped to call someone on his phone chatted with her briefly and ran to catch up and handed his cell phone to me with a smile. I stopped, confused, and took the phone. A girls voice came on, “Professor” she said with affection, as I recognized her voice we started laughing together. The police officer who took my ID was her husband, she was about 8 months pregnant and I had always been extra understanding of her situation in class. Her husband handed me back my ID. He instantly transformed from angry police officer to overly-kind; making sure to tell me how much he and his wife appreciated me. He and the other police officers seemed to quickly ignore the fact that I had been travelling without a guardian and they drove me the rest of the way to my home. The Saudi guardianship law was brushed aside, as I had a wasta, which every Saudi knows can put you above the law.

What would have happened to me that night without this connection; I have no idea. But as someone who’s grown up travelling and living throughout Sub-Saharan and North Africa, the USA, Europe the Middle East and Asia; someone who’s survived a revolution, supported myself financially, someone who’s flown a plane, shot a gun, driven a tracker, who jet-skiis and bunji jumps; EVEN without all these experiences; I certainly do NOT need a male guardian.  

On Being Shia in Saudi Arabia

Thank you to the Gulf Institute for Publishing my Research on the Shia minority in Saudi Arabia: http://www.gulfinstitute.org/images/stories/pdf/shialifeinsaudiarabia.pdf

What Saudi Arabia Doesn't Want The World To Know

What Saudi Arabia Doesn't Want the World to Know: My piece published by Muftah: http://muftah.org/what-saudi-arabia-doesnt-want-the-world-to-know/

The Intimidating Force of Women

My Piece for Muftah: The Intimidating Force of Women in MENA Revolutions: http://muftah.org/the-intimidating-force-of-women-in-mena-revolutions/

The Damaging Effects of Homogenization

Many in the American public have been cringing at the mention of Islam since 1979. With the Tehran US embassy hostage crisis, the average American citizen was for the first time hearing about how "Islam hates America" on a daily basis through the media. In this particular situation, America was for once the "victim" in an international crisis. News channels began counting the days (from 1 to 444) that the Embassy employees were being held, and high rations of daily media coverage kept the American public intune with the hostage crisis in Iran. This was the first introduction of many of the American masses (not merely the educated) to Islam.

It can be argued that the average US citizen didn't have much of an opinion about Islam pre-Hostage crisis, which is definitley not the case today. The American perception of Islam only got worse after 9/11, and though we seemed to have a moment of light with the start of the Arab Spring, it continued to plummet down the drain following the recent anti-American protests in response to the "Innocence of Islam" film.

The Muslim population in the United States is significant at around 3 million, however it is a very small minority in the entire population that is well over 300 million. Muslims don't even make up one percent of the American population. With that being taken into consideration, it is safe to say that the average American citizen has not come into contact on an intimate level with many Muslims, if any; not within the United States and most definitely not overseas, considering only one-third of the American population even possess a passport.

Therefore opinions and perceptions of Islam in America are often not from experience, but mere speculation, leaving popular media to govern the American opinion of Islam. Media - as it is not an academic resource, is often politically motivated & searching to shock - has managed to homogenize Muslims into one group. Homogenization is an extremely dangerous manipulation tool. Upon the homogenization of a certain group of people it becomes extremely easy to demonize what they stand for, though in reality this usually differ greatly from one member of the group to the other.

The damage of homogenization of diverse peoples can be put into a larger perspective by looking from another aspect.  Some Muslims too have homogenized "The West" into one simplified, negative entity. The "Innocence of Islam" film clip was a perfect example of this. An independent film made by a small number of  individuals in the USA, was the necessary spark to set of a few Muslims on attacking US government buildings. There were even protests outside of German government buildings overseas in response to this film. "The West" has been so homogenized for a few that somehow there are those who act on the presumption that the German government represents a few low-budget film makers nobodies from California. Brilliant.

Do you see how this can be a damaging problem on both sides?

I have lived and grown up in some very diverse cultures of the West, The Middle East, Asia, Africa; and in Christianity & Islam. No two people that I have met have been the same. In the case of Islam, the societies that I've lived in all have a very different definition of the Same religion; from Senegal to Tunisia to Saudi Arabia you can find complete contradictions in both Islamic orthodoxy and orthoproxy.

In my own experience, I've noticed that culture tends to rule over religion (for those who practice it). God - although religions teach his spirit is constantly present - is naturally hard for humans to grasp. God as the creator, can be very difficult to relate to, difficult to understand, and difficult to see at work on Earth. Thus, it is human nature to try to understand God within our own human contexts - this often implies that we look and understand God through our own cultural lenses. In the case of Islam, this has led to many cultural practices being deemed Islamic, though they may not have any roots in the religion itself. Often it is the culture and traditions of Muslims that define Islam to onlookers, and not the religion itself.

Another part of the problem of the homogenization of Muslims comes from within the Muslim community itself. There exist large, influential and powerful groups within the community that have a serious inability to deal with diversity. Though, the Quran itself allows for it:
To each of you We prescribed a law and a method. Had God willed it, He would have made you one nation [united in religion], but [He intended] to test you in what He has given you; so race to [all that is] good. To God is your return all together, and He will [then] inform you concerning that over which you used to differ. (Quran 5:48)
The most simplest way to understand this passage, is that not all of us connect to or understand God in the same way, and that's actually how God intended it to be. We may have petty disagreements now, but the passage assures us He will bring us together and work out the issues one day in the future. Take into consideration as well, that this is not a verse addressed to only "the believers of Islam", it extends out to all humanity, and surely we are diverse in belief.

There are those in the Muslim community itself who - through sectarianism, excommunication (takfir) and with rigid interpretations and lack of understanding - would also like for the Muslim community to be homogenized into one simple definition. Many Clerics have merely created a bubble where the "righteous struggle" within Islam is preoccupied with the hair on a woman's head, whether or not she still has her hymen, and making sure men are being "manly enough". All the while serious human rights issues and injustices are being ignored, though this is strongly in contrast to the spirit of Islam.

Both Americans and Iraqis have had to sit and ponder the painful question: "Why are our innocent people being murdered for something they had nothing to do with?"
My answer: Tragic homogenization.

The Wretched of the Earth: Shiites in Saudi Arabia

Link to My Article Published by Muftah.Org:
http://muftah.org/the-wretched-of-the-kingdom-shiites-in-saudi-arabia/

The House of Al Saud: In Over Its Head?

In stories and books about the establishment of the Nation State of Saudi Arabia, King Abdul Aziz, the founder of the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia is romantically portrayed as the noble leader  who "united" the tribes of Arabia. "Unite" seems an odd word to teach the masses, as history has shown most who establish control of a region do it through scheming, betrayal, politics, and lots of blood. The man was a  great conquerer, he should be recognized as such. I do not wish to praise or condemn his character - however I cannot argue with the fact that he was a man willing to sweat and get his hands very very dirty to get the job done.  His time was a much different generation, living within the harsh desert climate of Arabia – pre-oil boom and pre-convienience; a time that many Saudis argue were much harder times; but times that they say where one could found more quality, morale, drive and ethics within the community.  

The Sudairi seven, his seven sons from wife Hassa Al-Sudairi have managed leadership of the Kingdom between themselves, however, many have passed on, and more are elderly and sickly, and their time on Earth is surely very limited. Their generation saw a different Saudi Arabia than the one we know today, and was still very much in contact with the previous generation (the one of their father) who was used to living in the harsher times in Saudi Arabia. The late King Faisal responded to American oil threats during the 1973 oil embargo with: “We can go back to the desert and live off of dates and camel milk, but what will you do without oil?” This response worked at the time, because King Faisal’s was also a generation who needed to know how to survive, how to get their hands dirty, and how to "control" a nation, much different than the ones to follow.

The “house of al Saud” has grown, and its youth are now very disconnected from the harsh Arabia of King Abdul Aziz. They are used to a hefty allowance, lavish lifestyles, with so many people around them sucking up that few have to deal with real conflict outside of their family circles and most don’t know how to deal with it; some murder, some get crazy drunk, some sniff cocaine, some get prostitutes, some get arrested, some give "good blow jobs"…but all no longer remember a Saudi Arabia without McDonalds, cars, money, Air Conditioning, and airplanes; and none of them had to get sweaty to have any of it. Theirs is a generation who may not be able to handle running the population of whom - I would argue - has greatly surpassed them.

 It used to be only the royals and major elites that could travel overseas to study. Only these elite few – already in control and to some extent free of many of the strict restrictions of Saudi society - got to taste the “freedom” taught in western schools and universities. Now a massive portion of Saudi students have been exposed to a world where leadership is not recognized by family name, and where ordinary people are encouraged to constantly question everything and think critically. This was once a message only the elites were exposed to, and with the King Abdullah scholarship, this door has been opened for a massive number of young Saudi men and women.

 The Ottoman Empire, Mohamed Ali’s Egypt, and the Qajar and Shahs of Iran all went through extensive reforms in their nations as they began to notice discontent– all plans included sending large number of students overseas to study – many of these students ended up being the very same students who would return to their countries to contribute to the fall of these regimes.

Saudis are being educated within the Kingdom and outside the kingdom. Even Saudis within the Kingdom have been exposed to large number of foreigners who have have been invited in to work. They have seen the difference in lifestyle, they have been exposed to different ideas through books, movies, TV, internet (Saudi Arabia in the last year was by a landslide the country that experienced the most growth on Twitter). All these technologies opening the outside world to Saudi (to some extent) are at each individuals access, allowing for each Saudi citizen to have a window to a different way of thinking and to form their own personal experience with the outside world, something that wasn’t possible for the majority of even the most previous generation.

The last generation tried for change, women tried to take to the streets in a driving protest in order to demand their rights and were met with brutality, Qatifis took to the streets around 30 years ago to demand rights and were met with brutality, prisoners piled into jails and were tortured for wanting simple reforms. They may have failed to reach their exact goals – but they definitley ignited a spark – and many of these people have had children. Their children live in a different time, and their children are trying once again for the change in Saudi Arabia.

Protests are happening in the Kingdom now – from Qatif the Shiite center to Qassim the center of Wahhabism. The two most opposite cities in Saudi Arabia are both experiencing a common discontent with the way things are.

The generation who could perhaps say “we will go back to living on dates in the desert and camel milk” is in its last days in leadership, and the power is to be eventually passed down to the next generation of royals. The majority of whom have been pampered and remain severly disconnected from reality…yet they are the ones who are to rule those educated and globally-connected Saudi youth?

Between rampant poverty in a nation rich with wealth, to backward bureaucracy that forces everyone to run in circles before they can get anything accomplished, corrupt clerics who have deviated so far from Islam that many Muslims refuse to recognize it, to serious social issues (rape, sexual harassment, workers rights, etc) that are not spoken of, a Shiite and female population who have been mistreated and misunderstood for generations, to large amounts of people who have been thrown in prison for speaking out or wanting simple freedoms, and an educated youth who are beginning to challenge themselves to dream for the impossible….

The House of Al Saud has all the symptoms to an inevitable fall.  When? I don’t know, but I think I’ll be alive to see it.  

Pictures I've Taken over the Years

Dakar, Senegal 2009

              

Sinai, Egypt, 2012

The Nile, Cairo, Egypt 2012

Sinai, Egypt 2012

Ibiza, Spain 2012

       
                                                                                            

Atami, Japan, 2012

Kyoto, Japan 2012

                

Al Baha, Saudi Arabia 2011

Mecca, Saudi Arabia, 2011



Mecca, Saudi Arabia, 2011

Mecca, Saudi Arabia, 2011

Carthage, Tunis, Tunisia 2010

Tunis, Tunisia 2010

Revolution, Ariana, Tunis 2011

Paris, France 2012

Paris, France 2012



Dakar, Senegal 2007

Washington State, USA 2012

Koutiala, Mali 2009

Chaing Mai, Thailand 2008

Washington D.C., USA 2009

An Abortion in Tunisia

Tunisia legalized abortion in 1973. It is avaliable without question, as long as it is done before the 3  month mark of the womans pregnancy by a liscensed physician in a hospital. It is the most progressive Arab nation by law, however, there is still a strong social stigma against abortion in the nation. This is one story, there are many more in different places around the world with different reactions. From the supportive Abortion clinics in the USA who offer free counseling
 to women who come in, to a woman I know in Saudi Arabia who had her maid perform an abortion with a bent hanger. Women of all nationalities and religious confessions make the decision to do this, whether its legal or not.

However we may feel personally about a procedure, it is one that is beyond difficult for women to endure in the first place – nobody likes the idea of doing it. It’s important to recognize that this procedure can haunt a woman, for life. At the end of the day, it’s a choice, one that every woman should have the right to make – and they know the consequences going into it, it doesn’t mean one is heartless or doesn’t want children, but sometimes, those choices and consequences are the better option to endure for a better life.

Those who feel opposed due to religious reasons, at the end of the day, if we don't give humans free will and the choice to do the right or wrong thing and deal with the consequences (much as God has done for us) then there is no way to get genuine love , belief, or actions. The women who make this choice, aren't doing it with joy. If you believe in any God of any relgion, I believe it is always taught that God is the judge (not humans) He is all merciful, and God knows his creations best. So why not leave any judgements you may believe need to be made, in hands of God, and do your best to support and give these women the love they probably need to feel.

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It was October in Tunis. She was awaken from her sleep around two in the morning from a burning sensation in her breasts. She remembered how her friends used to complain about the exact feeling during their pregnancy. “Shit”, she thought quickly, but fell back asleep.

The next day she took a trip to the pharmacy, ashamed. She moved her diamond ring from her middle finger to her ring finger, so she would appear to be a happily married woman. She tried to hide her fear and remain calm as she stepped inside the Pharmacy in Nasser, a high-end neighborhood in Tunis.

The Pharmacist must have seen the panic in her eyes through her play-it-cool act as he told her quickly next time if she didn’t want to be pregnant she should use the morning after pill. He caught her off guard, she ignored the comment and left. The pharmacy was just one block from her apartment, but as she was walking down the street with the pregnancy test in her hand, panicked with thoughts and fear, she suddenly began to lose consciousness, and found herself laying on the street, she had fainted. She knew something was wrong.

She took the test, and it was instantly positive, no three minute dely. She looked at herself in the mirror for an instant, and in that instant she felt the most beautiful she had ever been. The way the hair fell on her face, the way her cheeks puffed out slightly, her breasts were plump, and a glow that came from her – she felt so feminine. Amazed that her body was capable to be pregnant, that if she did nothing and waited her belly may swell and she may be able to bring a human into the world.

It was the shortest and most beautiful moment in her 24 years, and the moment came harshly to an end. She sobbed, as she had never sobbed before. She no longer felt beautiful, she was alone, and it was not planned for. Her parents would disown her, her partners parents would disown her. Her boyfriend and her had been together for two years, and were planning on getting married. She couldn’t get ahold of him on the phone, he was taking an exam. Time was frozen, and she cried for two hours, alone in her bed. She wanted to lock herself in her bedroom, away from the world. But she had responsibilities, so she forced on a fake smile, and headed to work. She was giving one-on-one oral exams, her students knew her as bubbly and kind, and she had to play that role even though she was dying inside.

Every instant that went by she remembered she was pregnant. Though she wanted to clear her mind and feel at peace, she couldn’t forget. She sipped her tea, pregnant. She went to the bathroom, pregnant. She brushed her teeth, pregnant. She answered the phone, pregnant. She took a taxi, pregnant. Not a moment went by when she wasn’t, pregnant.

His reaction killed her more than the unexpected news of being pregnant. “we can keep it” she begged him. His instant “No” seemed like a scream, a thundering NO that echoed so deep into her soul and forced itself through her veins and into the very bloodstream that carried his child. In that moment, she knew somewhere deep down that the man whom she had planned on marrying didn’t love anybody but himself. But at the time she cared more about him then herself, or anybody else. She was frozen. His harsh “no” remained engrained inside of her.

He frantically called and found a doctor who would perform an abortion, and set up the appointment. She was frozen. Her boyfriend took her to the doctor, they found out she was a few weeks pregnant, and the Doctor gave her a pill to take the night before the abortion. “Do I need to take pain medications with it?” she asked. “No” he replied with confidence enough to convince that he had a vagina of his own and had already tried this pill, “it doesn’t hurt, it will just dilate you before the procedure, it’s nothing.” She was frozen. "How often do you do this?" She asked. "About three times a week" the doctor replied.

She went through the motions of being alive, breathing, eating, sleeping, working…but she was in survival mode, frozen, always remembering she was pregnant. She passed her time in tears, snapping from one mood to another; laughing was so much sweeter, but crying was so dark, and bitter.

The time came to take the pill, and prepare for bed to wake up the next morning to go to the Clinic in Tunis. She took the pill and retired to sleep. But never made it that far…

She ran to the bathroom, unable to move or reach a position that would be comfortable. As she ran in pain to the bathroom, her entire body began to feel hot and felt as though the blood was rushing from her head to her toes, and before she realized that she was in the process of fainting, she slammed hard onto the marble floor. Her boyfriend came running at the large bang. She woke up, her boyfriend was above her, panicked, and then the pain hit her all at once.

She screamed and cried in pain, she felt as though her insides were being crushed, and no matter what position she turned in attempt to escape the pain, she could not get comfortable – she went from freezing cold, to burning hot, and all the while her insides were under pressure. Contractions. Birthing contractions, they were. Her boyfriend had checked information online about the pill – it was well known that this pill caused two hours of contractions, and was incredibly painful. It was usually given with pain killers. She wondered, was the doctor that stupid, or did he mislead her on purpose? This would be the first of many similar questions.

As the contractions slowed down, she had more time to breathe in between each gust of pain. She had time to calm down, but was so exhausted by the end of the two hours that she didn’t want to think about going into the clinic. It was too late now, blood was dripping down the side of her leg.  Her boyfriend brought her some new clothes, and she struggled to stand. They headed towards the clinic.

It wasn’t horrible, but it was by no means nice. Though Tunisia was ranted and raved about for quality health care standards (in Africa), she would soon discover that there was nothing to rant and rave about here, besides their unprofessionalism. A nurse burst into the room, and looked at her over her glasses as if examining the girl. She started asking questions in Tunisian to the girl’s boyfriend. “’I can’t understand Tunisian Arabic, you did your medical studies in French, would you please speak French so I can understand what’s going on” the girl pleaded to the nurse. “Bloodtype. Whats your bloodtype?” The nurse asked shortly. She didn’t know. “Well, if one day you want to have a baby, if that’s something that you care about, you need to know your bloodtype for the baby”. The nurse seemed to be trying to repeat baby on purpose, assuming that somehow the girl’s position in the hospital bed meant she hated babies. The girl was too afraid and exhausted to comment back. Her fiery personality had been subdued.

A second nurse came in to give the girl an IV. The girl explained to the nurse that she had a fear of needles and a medical disorder that caused fainting. The nurse heard her, looked at her and shoved the needle into her arm as if to show the girl she didn’t care. The girl looked down at the IV as a single tear rolled down her face. Her boyfriend smiled at her. She was disgusted at him, he seemed so relieved at her demise. She knew his “helpfulness” was coming from completely selfish motives. He had never bought her a gift in all their time together, this was the first thing he offered to pay for, his first "gift" to her. She didn't want to look him in the eyes, but she needed someone familiar next to her.

A third nurse came in, to take the girl up to the room to have the procedure. She explained to the girls boyfriend he should wait in the room, and told him the procedure doesn’t take long. The girl climbed into a wheel chair, and the nurse wheeled her up to the room.  When they were in the elevator, there were a number of Tunisian men in with them. The Nurse turned to the girl, and asked her “Now what are you doing today?” She asked the girl. She was confused, “You mean later?” she asked. “No, I mean now, what’s the name of the procedure you’re going to do?” The nurse said it loud enough so that all the men in the elevator were curiously staring at her waiting to know why she was in a wheel chair and what she would do. The nurse knew exactly what she was going to do, as she had just explained the process to her boyfriend. She realized the nurse was trying to put her on the spot, she felt sick to her stomach and angrily responded “I don’t know the word in French”.

The nurse pushed her down the hall and left her for two new nurses. The girl was crying. One nurse looked down on her as if she was crying over spilt milk, “why are you crying?” The girl found no response, it seemed too obvious of a question to ask to the girl. “What? The nurse continued condescendingly, “This is your first time doing this?” The nurse gave her an unbelieving smirk. The girl nodded her head to respond yes, that this was her first time, though at this point she wanted nothing to do with any female in this hospital. A second nurse came over to her, “You’ll be fine.” She seemed much nicer than the other nurse. She tried to make small talk, asked her where she was from, what she was doing in Tunisia, how long she had been there. The girl responded to her questions, this nurse seemed kind. But when the girl responded that she had been in Tunisia for just 3 months, the nurse turned to the other nurse and said “only three months and she already got pregnant” in Arabic, thinking the foreign girl wouldn’t understand them. The girl understood and responded in French “I’ve been with him for two years, not just three months”. It was something she always hated about Tunisia, she preferred they treat her like shit if that’s how they felt, rather than putting on a fake smile, it humiliated her.

The anesthesiologist came into the room with a warm smile. He was a young and handsome, and in the midst of all those catty nurses, she wanted nothing more than him. He smiled down at her, and asked her if she was ok through her tears. He directed the nurses to get away from her, and to get to work. They mumbled and reluctantly went to prepare. He explained what he would be doing, cracked a few jokes, and told her not to worry or be scared. She smiled her first smile through tears. The other doctor came in, not Tunisian, he also was very kind to her. There were five female nurses who were on duty to help prepare her for the process, but they had done their best to break her down rather than support her, and for some odd reason she felt like it was these men who were supporting her. The doctor kindly did his best to put her at ease. The handsome anesthesiologist asked her to count down from ten. “Ten….nine…….”

She woke up. The nurses were chatting around the room. She turned to her left. Right next to her head on the table, the nurses had left the jar of blood from the procedure. The rest of the room was cleaned, but they left that right in her sight. They told the doctor she was awake. She was crying. The doctor came in, and seemed confused and angry to see the jar of blood on the table next to her head. He turned frustrated to the nurses and told them to be professional. They were instructed to leave and dispose of it. She cried. He looked at her, and simply said, don’t let them break you down, that’s all they want to do.

She knew it was socially unacceptable. But she didn’t expect that professional nurses could be so heartless and unprofessional. They did everything in their power to make her feel like dirt, to tear her down, and to try to make her ashamed. She already felt bad enough.