When the driver arrived at her building, he reached around and grabbed her leg. The teacher punched him, jumped out of the cab and ran into her building. A few had had their students proposition them. One said she was followed while out jogging — a driver cruised beside her and grabbed her ass. Sexual repression and frustration are palpable in Kurdistan. In this mostly traditional Islamic society there is no dating except between engaged couples, and engagements and marriages are still generally arranged by families.
Young Muslim women are the preserve of their families, especially their fathers and brothers, who restrict them from going out and approve any match before it can begin. Most women here wear the shawl, or hijab, but not the full burqa or niqab, which leave women peering through a slit. Apparently the hijab symbolizes modesty, privacy and morality. In class the women who wear it are more likely to be modest and reserved, but their morality is questionable.
They are just as likely to copy essays as the next student — plagiarizing at our university is widespread and considered an acceptable way to pass a course, despite the threats of penalties or getting expelled.
And they can be just as flirty as other women. He interacted with one student at the university and they declared their love for each other, but then she decided to marry her cousin — or her family did. Marrying your cousin is common here — a way of keeping marriage and dowries all in the family. No one seems very aware of what this does to the gene pool. Mohammed was devastated. Both accused the other of lying and dishonesty. Morose and more frustrated than ever these days, Mohammed is thinking of escaping to Australia where his uncle, who emigrated there, has a forty-something Filipina waiting for him.
Or marrying his cousin. He is desperate and, I can see, serious. So what do frustrated Kurdish men do for sex? Some of my male students tell me that any woman working in a bar in Einkawa, the Christian neighbourhood where I live, is available.
