This isn’t the first time I’ve travelled within a predominately Muslim country, but it’s certainly the first time I’ve been accompanied by a man. I’m noticing a distinct difference. That is, I’m not being noticed at all.Respectfully covered from neck to toe – except when it’s raining, and engulfed in my hooded parka I resemble a Jedi Knight – I’m certainly not intending to make a scene. However, I’m finding the extent to which I am ignored by street salesmen and restaurateurs somewhat disconcerting.
Boyfriend enjoying his compliments-of-me coffee, at Haydarpaşa ferry wharf
Yesterday I ordered two Turkish coffees at a small kiosk as we waited for the ferry to take us back from Haydarpaşa (on the Asian side) to Eminönü (in Europe), but the waiter turned to Boyfriend to ask if we wanted sugar mixed in. When it came time for the bill, I paid; yet the waiter returned with change for my man. He then asked Boyfriend’s name and where he came from, shook his hand, smiled and went back to serving. It was like I wasn’t even there.
At other places too they have gone to great lengths to introduce themselves to Boyfriend, congratulate him on being from Australia and/or being “such a big (tall) man,” and I merely scuttle along behind. It definitely appears that the ratio of men to women in Istanbul is skewed, and from reading excerpts of the Lonely Planet we’re told that – tourist-dense areas aside – most restaurants in Turkey are segregated and some are even strictly ‘female free’ zones.
The Blue Mosque
Today in the Blue Mosque I noticed that the back of the large prayer hall was cordoned off for women; only an eighth of the whole space deemed necessary for female worship. I’m not going to argue the pros and cons of Islam, but I do question the reasons behind, and need for, any form of segregation – be it of women and men or one race from another.
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