All my life I have been surrounded by the souls of strong women. My family made it a priority for me to be around women from all walks of life spanning and redefining “femininity”. My childhood has been led by the female empowerment brand. Yet, in the last two weeks my idea and consciousness regarding the sisterhood has expanded in the same way I have over this last year; sometimes uncomfortable, all at once then nothing at all, through personal experience/surrounding, and often way too in my own head.
It all started with my mother flying 5,000 miles to see her only daughter after 7 months and my beautiful aunt Stephanie and cousin Maddie flying 6,500 to take a peek into the life I live so foreign to their own. When someone says American Dream the first person I think of is my aunt. And if someone says generosity the first person I think of is my aunt. My cousin is the artist and the fighter. She is the sun and the thunderstorm. She is strong. These are the women that brought me up. All of us being together made me both appreciate deeply in a way I had never before the expansion of self and the expansion of world I have experienced. It also made me deeply long to return to my role at my forever home.
Azra a woman of tenacious faith, kindness, and curiosity has become a dear friend. We met through my conversational English class. I watched as she turned from a nervous and self-conscious English speaker to a someone who cracks jokes about Instagram followers. Our friendship has led us to talk about burkinis, boys, and above all Bog (Bosnian word for G-d). On Monday my family’s third day in the land of Sarajevo’s sun Azra led us on a journey both literally across the city, but also emotionally across our own belief systems. We went to multiple mosques wrapped in hijabs wearing our long and goddess like attire. We visited The Tunnel of Hope with her father a soldier in the Bosnian war who himself had been through the tunnel over a hundred times in the time of war. The tunnel transported guns, food, medicine, and even people from occupied Serb territory to “safe” Bosnian territory. We visited a Catholic church because Azra had never been inside a church. We drank coffee and laughed about finding a life long love through Facebook. We discussed her definition of feminism, and listened and learned when it didn’t match up to the feminism we grew up around. Her life is seen through a window of Allah’s power and that faith carries her into the world with respect, gentleness, and grace. She answered all of questions with tolerance even when they made her sometimes uncomfortable. We exchanged the similarities in Judaism our faith and hers. Her devoutness was nothing near any of our relationships with religion, yet there was no judgment. We listened to her opinions on the world’s creation to gay marriage. Often not aligning with our own opinions, however, when it came down to morality and magnanimity we were on the same page, reading from the same book of life. She opened my eyes and my families in ways without the connection of long term exchange I don’t believe would be possible. She spoke of the sisterhood she shares with fellow women who cover religiously. When we wore our hijabs we would get little nods and an occasional As-Salaam-Alaikum from women on the street. Azra spoke of her commitment to Allah that her covering brought her and the importance she felt in the sisterhood she had with other women who held the same commitment. We joked about wanting to wear burkinis out of personal self-consciousness and underneath it all acknowledged the deep serious commitment Azra had made. Not out of self-consciousness but to be conscious.
Later in the week we had dinner at my host sister’s house. Good family friends who they consider family (they used to live together) came. Sajra who is my age and has taken me under her wing while I’ve been here was asked about her plans after high school. She has one year more just like I do and often we have talked about our future lives. I remember one of the first times she took me out for coffee she said something along the lines of ‘I want to get married later so I can live before I have to cook and clean for my husband’. She is the kind of girl to get up and dance first and a quick chemistry study. Her version of religion is far different than Azra’s yet just as important to her identity. She is the daughter of Henadi who has small birds tattooed that fly down her shoulder. Henadi wants Sajra to go to school in Austria prioritizing her daughter’s education and independence above anything else. They are part of a different sisterhood one that still believes in the wives tales of wet hair and the draft, but pulls away into questioning of the “women’s role” and the scary flight from home.
As the week continued I took my cousin to school, specifically Chemistry class where she met one of the only Bosnians at school I consider my real friend. This friend of mine is queer and curious. She is loud and proud. She is smart. So obviously she kicked it off with my cousin. She sees a world in where her religious identity/ethnicity doesn’t even contradict her complete progressive actions and fashion. She jokes about writing about being a queer Muslim girl to get scholarships to US colleges. She once wore the hijab, but she has traded it for converse and flannel over rock band t-shirts. She is in a secrete special sisterhood in Bosnia. One I would know exists without her friendship. Her sisterhood looks at the constructs of their society and gives them the middle finger.
My aunt, cousin, mother, and myself were left with an exhausting yet imperative emotional week of self-introspection and outer understanding. We witnessed the realm of womanhood and we looked at each other. Even among the four of us we felt, believed, and are extremely different people. We are able to support each other not without difficulty, connected through love. What I realized traveling on this trip through feminine identity is that while each of them has their sisterhood; we do not have a universal sisterhood. We let what makes our femininity different separate us instead of joining together with the familiar known of woman. Life isn’t easy and being a woman no matter what sect of sisterhood you belong to doesn’t make it easier. We all share in a similar burden. I wish for a world where we watch out for each other instead of backstab; a world that fights jealousy and insecurity with companionship and understanding. I can only work for this world by traveling and finding friends in all of these sisterhood sects, even and especially when we don’t agree.
My aunt, me, mother, cousin, and Azra (left to right) standing in front of Azra’s car before entering a Saudi Arabian mosque. This mosque is where Azra showed us her ritual of washing before prayer. This is also where she showed us her app that sets automatic alarms so she doesn’t forget one of her 5 prayers. It also had a compass that shows the direction of Mecca.
SO many selfies!
Enjoying the Sarajevo view from the top of a tower.
Azra patiently got us all ready!
My mom looking ADORABLE!
The four of us. My mom and aunt embarrassing me by taking photos and selfies of everything at my school. My aunt even took a video of the kids as they changed classes when the bell rang LOL!
Host mom with cousin and I.
Mother-Daughter
I will peace out with this last mother-daughter selfie the night before I had to say goodbye again, but this time for only 2 months. What personal growth I experienced showing my family the world I am witness to here. I just want to throw out it was not without sadness that what my family hear calls my “drugi mama” could not join us, you know who you are!
Lots of love my readers and live on/work on the Intersectional Universal Sisterhood!
We led a workshop on Saint Patrick’s Day explaining the history and doing some arts and crafts. Obviously I didn’t get the memo they were taking a photo in this picture so I am continuing to help the girl make a paper leprechaun.
Our group on the streets of Banja Luka. A Orthodox church is behind us.
My new friend Amina who I met while giving a presentation in Southern BiH about President’s Day. She is into martial arts (getting her black belt this year) and loves Eminem. I introduced her to Tupac. Be both agreed Beyonce’s music is good, but her clothing not modest. She is coming to Sarajevo later this year and we will meet up!
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