The Haj - Leon Uris [71]
She came out to me after a time, her face wet with tears and sweat and still trembling.
‘What did mother say?’ I asked anxiously.
‘I don’t have to have mine cut off,’ she sobbed. ‘They only do it here to girls who have dishonored the family. I promised I would do nothing to shame us. I promised I would never look at a boy or let a boy touch me until my wedding night.’
I guess I started crying too. We held each other and sobbed until she realized we were holding each other, then she pushed me away and a look of terror came to her. ‘It is all right, Nada,’ I cried. ‘I am your brother. I will not harm you.’
20
IF IT TOOK RAMIZA time to gain acceptance within the family, it took longer to win the approval of the village women. Until her period of trial was over she was accused of carrying the jinn. Any misfortune in the village was blamed on her, for bringing the evil spirit to Tabah. She had a lot to overcome. Since Ramiza was the only second wife, the village women generally sympathized with Hagar. Ramiza had the unfortunate fate of being very young and exquisitely beautiful as well.
At the communal ovens family intimacies were exchanged by weary, bored, and frustrated wives. Women fled to the ovens for shelter from fights with their husbands. While there was some release in this place of female social privacy, the endless cycles of monotony and labor often exploded into violent quarrels, with obscenities filling the air and spitting and slapping and kicking commonplace.
Ramiza was a ready-made target for slurs. Their jealousy of her could be added to her suffering. As Ramiza’s time to give birth drew near, acceptance of her was grudgingly given. Childbirth was one of the rare occasions when women were allowed to congregate and celebrate without serving the men. When Ramiza’s time came due, my mother once again left Tabah for an extended visit with her family.
The word spread quickly that Ramiza was feeling her first pains and our house became the center of an occasion. All of the village women gathered, except those who were menstruating, for their blood was unclean and they were not permitted over the threshold. During the time of a woman’s period she was also forbidden from entering the mosque, visiting the graveyard, or fasting during Ramadan.
Ramiza was taken into the living room for the delivery. She appeared to be little more than a child herself. The daya sat her on the floor on a goatskin rug. One of her aunts, who lived in Tabah, sat on a stool behind her, holding her head and bracing her between her legs. On either side she was attended by cousins. The room was in general chaos, with women and little children running in and out at random. I was still young enough to watch it all from a careful distance at the kitchen door.
The lower half of Ramiza’s body was covered with a quilt, although she still wore ankle-length bloomers. The daya made several inspections under the blanket, feeling about after greasing her hand with sheep’s fat.
With each new sharp pain the women would shout in unison for her to ‘heave’ and ‘bear down.’ After a pain diminished they would chatter about the problems they had had when they had given birth. As the pains grew sharper and came more often, Ramiza began to scream for her mother. I could not understand why she wanted her mother after her mother had helped take away her button of pleasure. It was Nada who took a place alongside Ramiza, held her hand, and washed her perspiring face.
After several hours and many inspections the daya drew back the quilt and removed Ramiza’s bloomers. A quiet swept the room as the tension mounted. In a burst, a blur, and a scream, it was there! I had a half brother! The daya wiped off all the blood and mess and cut the cord. While the baby was still naked and screaming, it was passed around from woman to woman for everyone to gush over.
I ran to the café to tell my father. He basked in his new glory. Ramiza’s baby came just before the circumciser made his annual visit, so the baby’s foreskin and first soiled diaper were placed