Sex, Sexuality, and Censorship

A couple of weeks ago, I was at home watching a rerun of Friends. (Yes, we do get tons of American shows here.) It was the New Years Eve episode where the "friends" sulked in Monica's apartment watching the rest of their party welcome in the New Year. Chandler tries to cheer everyone up, noting "there are 3 guys and 3 girls here" – everyone would get a New Years kiss! For those who know the episode, it ends with Chandler throwing a tantrum because no one will kiss him, so Joey lays a big one right smack on his lips!

Well, Singapore's version was a bit different. Right when Joey started to lean in, a white flash came across the screen and the next frame was Chandler looking bewildered (apparently for no reason). Hmmm...is Singapore really that "homophobic," censoring out even the most light-hearted of homosexual references?

Perhaps not. Featured on HBO recently was Philadelphia, the story of a gay lawyer who is fired when he contracts AIDS. I watched the movie in anticipation of its famous scene: protagonist Tom Hanks dancing with boyfriend Antonio Banderas at a costume party, then the kiss on the dance floor. (I've always been a bit jealous of Tom Hanks in this role.) Smiling, watching, waiting, then cut! No kiss for Tom Hanks in Singapore's version.

It appears that "sexually illicit" material going through the filter of MediaCorp, Singapore's media monopoly, can be talked about and referred to but not actually seen. And it's not just homosexual actions that get the boot; sex in general is closely guarded. In the movie Parenthood, references to pornography, vibrators, and oral sex are kosher. But when it comes to the "big" scene in Sex and the City (The Movie), MediaCorp leaves you hanging. Even Singapore's adult entertainment stores don't sell porn (in magazine or video format).

Now I'm not an advocate of the porn industry; nor do I condone explicit material on television where those not mature enough to handle it have easy access. My shtick is this: Chandler kissing Joey is not in the same league as seeing someones ho hum up close and personal. And if you are going to censor the sexually explicit in Singapore, why not start at Orchard Towers (endearingly called the Four Floors of Whores).

And so I pose the question: Why censor? After all you can get the real version of what you don't see on TV (both hetero- and homosexual) just down the street from my house.

Kano - The Sight of a Woman

While in Kano, we also visited privately with one of the emir's 4 wives. Because of Muslim tradition, only women were allowed to see or speak with Ada. Wife number 3 of 5 (which has since risen to #2 with the death of wife #1), Ada spoke candidly about life as an emir's wife. She married when she was 19 and had ambitions to be a pastor and travel the world. Instead she chose a life of seclusion with the emir inside the palace. True, the emir takes her traveling when opportunity arises, but without the emir she must stay in the confines of her living quarters with a couple hours in the evening allowed for courtyard meandering.

She mostly communicates with her husband through concubines...and yes, they are concubines in the traditional sense of the word. They may sleep with him and mother the emir's children...children who will enjoy the same benefits as Ada's. When we asked if she despised the concubines for their relationship with the emir, she seemed a bit surprised. After all, she and the concubines are in the same boat...devoted to the king as helper, companion, and mother of his children. Instead of animosity, they have a mutual respect and understanding for a situation they both share.

It is interesting...when visiting Cairo I expected to feel compelled toward respect of Muslim traditions and beliefs. But it was in Kano that I most noticed the restraints placed on people of my own gender. It isn't just the emir's wife who is confined to her home; it is pretty much any woman over the age of 16 (or so it seemed). We saw girls and older women frequently lining the streets. But as for the other demographics, they were nowhere to be found. And while in Cairo I would not have felt too out of place wearing a modest tank-top, in Kano I did not see one woman without headgear and covered from head to foot. In fact, we were advised to cover our necks before visiting with the emir's wife.

Despite a tradition I do not fully understand, and an anonymity that is true for most women not often seen outside their homes, it did not seem a hindrance to who these women are. The emir's wife is strong, she is outspoken and candid, and she has accepted her choice in life as her own. She has three equally strong daughters, all of whom chose different paths than their mother's...to see the world and be seen by it.

Egypt - Walk Like an Egyptian

As a typical part of my pre-travel ritual, I do extensive research on what attire to pack. Weather, terrain, cultural activities, and the like all play a role in my complicated decision-making matrix for proper packing protocol. And as with our other jaunts in and outside the US, I went through the same rigorous process for our trip to Cairo…with one slight alteration: I was a woman entering the gateway to the Muslim world.

With the Middle East a mere hop over the Red Sea, my ways had to amend and not offend. No shorts, no scoop necks, no tanks. A friend who used to live in UAE had told me stories about Sharjah (a small emirate beside Dubai). Even if just driving through, she had to cover her head in observance of Muslim law. Another friend who lived in Kuwait always carried an emergency jumper she could toss on if so compelled. As a visitor to Egypt, I was determined to blend in and respect the traditions of a country I knew little about. So armed with a scarf and no-wrinkle, ankle-long skirt I was ready to walk like an Egyptian.

As it turned out, my worries were unwarranted. Now, you wouldn’t want to sport your Daisy Dukes, and most women did wear headgear; but, you weren’t obligated by any stretch to alter your typical American dress. Though definitely in the minority, scarfless women were not an unusual sight. And after a while, the scarves themselves seemed to pass your notice, blending in as another accessory to the outfit as a whole. Maybe it was because the women in Cairo had an impeccable sense of style, or perhaps it was the utility factor amidst wind and dust; whatever the reason, the missing hairdos and ponytails faded into the unremarkable.

Tradition carries such a ring of normality in Egypt you almost cease to notice. Take the all-woman subway car for example. In each subway station, a two-car length shaded section along the track indicates where the “women cars” stop. You aren’t forbidden to ride the other cars alongside men (I saw a number of women do so, with and without headgear); it’s just a small Muslim convenience, and widely used I might add, for the women abiding by more conservative beliefs.

Though we saw the occasional full-body coverage with gloves and face scarf, coverage was not a requirement for females by any means, nor was walking three feet behind my husband on the street. As it turned out, it was much easier to walk like an Egyptian than I thought.