Gugilstan

Gugilstan[1]

Ghaniyah[2] brushed her long, luxurious dark hair out of her face, and grimaced as the torchlight hit her stunning amber eyes. It was way too early for anyone to be up, even the sun. The only reason she was up this early was because she had to prepare for the trihonvil[3] rituals being held that day. She shouldn’t have to do this; she was almost royalty, the next in line for the position of High Priestess, and yet here she was being treated as a lowly servant girl. Rupinder[4], the High Priestess, still hadn’t convinced Ghaniyah exactly why she needed to go through this training for all levels of life; she was good and smart enough for the job. Personally, she thought the trihonvil rituals were some of the least important rituals practiced by the convent, where all the priestesses and female servants gathered to beat their chests to honor the priests, but one had to satisfy the males of their power somehow.
She abruptly stopped her current train of thought and focused on getting washed and dressed with the assistance of Zita, her friend and personal servant. Setting up the bagato[5] would take forever, and she was cutting it close as it was; there’d be no way she’d be able to get back to her rooms in time to change and shower before the ceremonies began. She’d just have to wear her ritual dress and hope she didn’t get it too noticeably dirty.
“We must be going now, come on,” Zita said softly, tugging at her sleeve. Her light blue eyes were clouded with worry. She was personally responsible for getting Ghaniyah there on time, even if the whole point of the exercise for Ghaniyah was to learn responsibility. If Zita and Ghaniyah didn’t finish lighting the incense and candles in time for the ceremony, they would both be severely punished, but Zita more so because she was supposed to know better. Ghaniyah looked at her friend calmly, understanding exactly what was going through her mind “Don’t worry, we can do it! If worse comes to worse, I can distract them outside for a bit while you finish up.” And so, giggling, the girls quietly raced to the bagato in the darkness.
Gasping, Zita arrived first at the entrance to the orange tent-like building with Ghaniyah close behind her. She had gone slower, lugged down with the elaborate ceremonial dress that she was trying to keep clean and failing miserably. Ghaniyah studied the damage done to the garb briefly, and, deeming it a lost cause, stepped forward to open the doors to the shrine. Zita leaned over her shoulder eagerly; servants were rarely allowed to go inside the main bagato except on a couple of special ritual days a year, and that was always when it was crowded. She had never been able to study the intricate designs in the floors, on the walls, and on the cloth-like ceilings. The doors swung open and Zita gasped. She had known it was exquisite, but she had never realized how exquisite. Ghaniyah glanced at her, amused. “It’s not as great as it looks, you know.”
Zita just smiled and nodded at her friend’s ignorance and stepped inside.
“Well, I guess we should start with lighting the candles. They’re already in position, all we have to do is strike the matches and light the wick. Technically, we’re supposed to do them in some order, but I can’t remember it now, and, anyway, we’re short on time. Hopefully the gods won’t get angry with us! Whoo,” Ghaniyah said laughingly, wagging her fingers.
“Don’t say that! We don’t want to anger them! Maybe I should run back to your rooms and get the notes you were given on this…” Zita whispered worriedly.
Ghaniyah’s eyes widened, “Uh… no, that’s okay, I think I can remember it. Just light them in order the way they’re set up, starting here and moving counter-clockwise.” She lied quickly, and without any qualms. She couldn’t mess this up, it was an easy task, even a baby could do it, and if something did go wrong Rupinder wouldn’t trust her with anything. She pointed to the first candle near the door, a green one, and went to get the matches and incense.
As she came back, she handed the incense and a pack of matches to Zita. “Here, you can start the incense while I do the candles. Just put those in incense holders after you light them.” Zita worked quickly, and was finished with the incense before Ghaniyah got to the sixth candle. “Good job. You can keep watch outside for others while I finish up here. Warn me if you see anyone coming, then go back outside to distract them.” Zita nodded and reluctantly exited the sanctuary. The doors let in a gust of wind as they closed, and the candles already lit flickered in the breeze. Alone now, Ghaniyah slowly inhaled the incense, calming herself with the scent of lavender.
Suddenly, she felt another presence in the darkened room with her. Her pupils turned white, and she was whisked away into a blank world. She had fallen onto an empty ground, empty of color, texture, life. She slowly got up and looked around. She was a priestess-in-training, and experiences such as this were not unheard of for the High Priestess. But never before had a priestess spoken of getting a vision before her training was over. Was this a vision? She didn’t know for sure, but had a strong feeling that it was. Suddenly, another figure appeared at the other end of the…room. It wasn’t really a room, but that was the best word to describe it. It was rather like…a limited existence, if that. As she edged closer to the being, it began to speak. “Brought up as you have been to believe…with the other waifs…in a merciful… [Long laugh]… God… [Good laugh]… first thought was… oh long after… sudden flash… you are being punished… for her sins…” With these words, Ghaniyah felt extreme, piercing pain in her stomach and chest. Screaming, she fell to the floor, writhing in pain. The other figure looked shocked for a moment, and the figure’s bright green eyes bolted open. She stared at Ghaniyah curiously, wondering who this girl was and why she was in pain.
Abruptly, the pain stopped. The figure stopped crying, even though Ghaniyah hadn’t noticed the figure had been crying until it stopped. Ghaniyah looked into the figure’s eyes, and saw a quick succession of images and colors. Green. The beginning. A gathering of priests scheming. A group of ladies, speaking and dressing freely. Red. Anger, a struggle. The ladies rising to power. The priests becoming angry. Black. The change of power. Priests commanding, taking down pictures, burning books. Ladies boxed in homes, churches. Yellow. Realization, a split between sisters. Some ladies regained man’s power. Another group remained closed in, but kept the up the struggle for liberation. Purple. For the Greater Good. And Darkness, quickly followed by the emptiness of the foreign world.
Ghaniyah fell back from her approach of the figure, shocked. This being has just told her that her whole life, her destiny, was worthless, no worse than worthless, existence. It was a harmful existence. And Rupinder. She probably knew. She had gotten a sense of time from the images and Rupinder was that old, old enough to know of the happenings. But as Ghaniyah studied the figure, she realized the answer was staring her in the face, the reason why the priests got so worried in the first place. A women’s sexuality. The women in the images were so much more open and connected with their sexuality before it had been taken away from them. Before they were shoved into the convents, and into heavy clothes that removed all semblance of beauty from them. And then Ghaniyah blinked. And was sent spinning back into bagato in the convent in Gugilstan.
Ghaniyah came stumbling back into real existence, into the main room in which all the candles were lit, and the scent of lavender was strong. Zita came back into the room, her face red with excitement. “They’ve arrived. Is it ready?” Zita glanced around. “Good.” Satisfied. “Come here; let me clean you up a bit before they get here.” Ghaniyah jerked away, a look of disgust on her face which she quickly settled back into a look resembling normality. She had to serve the High Priestess until it was her time. And she would forever refer to her as the High Priestess now; she no longer had a name or a face. She was merely a dark overlord, who would eventually be overthrown in Ghaniyah’s time. And with this change of power would come a change for women everywhere. All this went through Ghaniyah’s head in a short amount of time, during which Zita had finished dusting her off and the party of priests and priestesses arrived.

[1] Combination of “Guy” and “Girl”, with “-stan”, meaning “people” added to the end. (Wulfweardswearth, an English male name for World guardian, was also a contender for the name of the world)
[2] Arabic name meaning beautiful woman.
[3] Word made by me, taken from tribute, honor, and civil.
[4] Means "greatest beauty" from Sanskrit "beauty" combined with the name of the Hindu god INDRA, used here to mean "greatest"
[5] The giant temple in which the rituals were to be performed.





Question: Why has the status of women in societies of Middle Eastern cultures been degraded over time? [i]

Answer 1: It hasn’t been degraded over time.[ii]
Women’s rights in Iran are the same now as they ever were. Yes, women have had to defend their rights, “She should start learning to defend her rights as a woman right now!” (Satrapi Vol. 1, 76), but they haven’t changed dramatically. Women will always have to fight for their rights, but so do all people; this will not change over time. Marjane even hoped to break barriers for females as a child, seen with “Before me there had been a few others. (Picture of prophets)” “I am the last prophet.” “A woman?” (Satrapi Vol. 1, 6) But as she grew, she realized that she wasn’t fit for this occupation and decided “I want to be an educated, liberated woman. And if the pursuit of knowledge meant getting cancer, so be it.” (Satrapi Vol. 1, 73) This idea of being educated was a good one, but on being liberated, that was nonsense. She is already liberated, she just doesn’t realize it. “…Our refusal to face facts… leads us to eject the habit from the thought of ourselves and conceive it as an evil power which has somehow overcome us.” (Dewey 18) The habit in this situation would believe oneself to be lacking liberation, but liberation from what? Marjane finally was able to face the standards of being a woman with these words in response to Kia’s “Look at that! You’ve become a real woman.” “Ah well! We all end up having to accept ourselves!” (Satrapi Vol. 2, 108)

Answer 2: Religion extremism has made it easier.
Women’s rights in Persepolis used to be very extensive. A woman was respected for her abilities and opinions, could wear whatever she deemed fashionable, and could even work alongside men. But this changed with the rise of Islam, especially with the Shah’s rise to power. This is immediately seen in Persepolis: Story of a Childhood with “I didn’t really know what to think about the veil. Deep down I was very religious, but as a family we were very modern and avant-garde.” (Satrapi Vol. 1, 6) As Marjane continues to grow up, it becomes easier and easier to tell that females’ rights are being taken from them. At one point, Marjane’s mother even tells her, “If anyone ever asks you what you do during the day, say you pray, you understand??” (Satrapi Vol. 1, 75) Mother does this to protect Marjane, but at the same time she was confirming that their freedom was being stolen from them. It was in this setting of religious extremism and fundamentalism that Marjane, and all the other children of Iran, grew up.
Being brought up under a strict, God (or Allah)-fearing society was also seen in Not I, “…brought up as she had been to believe…with the other waifs…in a merciful… [Brief laugh]…God... [Good laugh]… first thought was…oh long after…sudden flash…she was being punished…for her sins…” (Beckett beginning of Not I).
After being in this society for some time, some women even relinquished their basic rights, or perhaps exchanged them for rights of a different variety, and began to turn on others of their own kind. “They were guardians of the revolution, the women’s branch… Their job was to put us back on the straight and narrow by explaining the duties of Muslim women.”(Satrapi Vol 1, 132-133) This is possibly the scariest aspect of the whole idea, that women could be brainwashed by religion to sacrifice their birthrights and sisters for “For the Greater Good” (J.K. Rowling Deathly Hallows, 357).

Answer 3: “Men are scared of women’s high level of sexuality.” -Brad
Men are scared of a woman’s connectedness with their sexuality, and the power it gives them. In order to disguise this fact, they make women disguise the very things that make them so powerful, such as their hair and intellect. This is seen both in a story told by Uncle Anoosh and by his own opinions. The story was about a girlfriend of a prisoner about to be executed, and what she was willing to do for him, “You know what it’s like to be an unmarried mother in this country. You will be shunned. Life will be hell.” “I don’t care…” (Satrapi Vol. 1, 58) This reflects the power a woman has to reproduce, and how she can change the course of events if she wants it deeply enough, but how the society will shun her for doing so. Anoosh goes on to talk about his Russian ex-wife. “Russians aren’t like us…Its hearts they don’t have. They don’t know how to love…What my wife made me suffer was much worse [than torture].” (Satrapi Vol. 1, 59-60) This shows how powerful women are, and how powerfully they can mentally hurt people. Yet even with all this repression of the female sexuality, it can express itself in the simplest ways; “I watched my grandma undress. Each morning, she picked jasmine flowers to put in her bra so that she would smell nice. When she undressed, you could see the flowers fall from her breasts. It was something to see.” (Satrapi Vol. 1, 150). Even the Iranians still recognize the power women hold; “the husband must pay his wife a dowry.” (Satrapi Vol. 2, 110). In other cases, women aren’t even aware of their power or allure, as seen in “Happiness”. “As for Mother – she thought nothing of running out of the bathroom in her slip…And she booked no criticism on her behavior. “Celibacy was never meant to take all the warmth and homeliness out of their lives,” she said.” (Lavin 31). Yes, Mother and Father Hugh denied anything more than a platonic relationship, but there were rumors about them ‘making free’, and Father Hughes was rather strongly affected by her death; “…his step, like his voice, was the step of a lover.” (Lavin 46) and “…pressing his face close to hers, as close as a kiss, he kept whispering to her…” (Lavin 48). This evidence leads me to believe that even if they did have a simple platonic relationship, she still had power over him in a sensual way. This same relationship was probably reflected in the Middle East, what with religion getting in the way. The Middle Eastern religious man probably realized the hold women had over them because of their comfort with their sexuality and wanted to put a stop on it, so he started taking away their rights.

[i] I did indeed read the second volume, but was able to find more evidence in the first to support my answers, which is why this piece only has two measly quotes from the second. I think this is so because in the first volume Marjane is more optimistic and she lives in Persepolis for the whole of the story, so you are able to see how women are treated there.
[ii] I had to become devil’s advocate for this answer, so that’s why it may not completely make sense.