When West And East Meet And Cultures Mingle

Vilma is the sister of my best friend. When we were young, before we could drive, I spent a lot of time at my friend's house. His house was strictly regulated. He is Muslim, his family came from Turkey. One day I talked to his sister Vilma. I did so without her mother's knowledge. She was very embarrassed and told me I was getting her in trouble.

I had a hard time understanding why that was such a problem. My friend told me, women were not allowed to be around men, especially not a husband or a father or a brother. And a fourteen year old girl, she was precious. I did not understand 'precious', I would later.

We were sitting watching television and Vilma came in, and laid a tray with drink and cakes for us. Every afternoon if I was there Vilma came in to bring us drink and cakes. She sometimes looked my way. She was so beautiful, beauty that was different than 'my' people, beauty that I could not resist.

I was a friend of the house and my friend's father would talk with me. The discussions were always about preparation for life, and he insisted on both my friend and I getting a professional education. One day I walked into Vilma's bedroom. These were small houses. I was curious. It was a normal bedroom, on her bed was her folded 'undergarments', I touched them. Vilma was embarrassed. My friend told me that now I had really crossed the line.

But instead of being banished from the house, I was invited to dinner. It was a formal dinner, and Vilma served me. Only me. She was 'attentive' to me. I had touched her undergarments, she was as good as married. One day, another day, there were many days, she brought in the drink and cakes, and then sat beside me. And her mother was present. She was 'g*fted' to me.

I am telling you this, but remember I was sixteen and Vilma was fourteen. And I was in a world I did not understand. On the outside western, on the inside eastern. If anyone raised a hand to serve me, Vilma reacted. That was hers and exclusively hers. At a moment when I talked to her father he asked me if I preferred an educated woman. Many men preferred a woman to be educated in the home. But it was my choice, did I prefer an educated woman? It was a question I had to answer.

Vilma and her mother were standing back waiting for my answer. My friend mouthed 'e d u c a t e d'. I said educated woman. Vilma folded her hands into her lap and hugged her mother. She would continue in school, along with me and her brother, in the professional track. While we were at school, it was our responsibility to look after Vilma. As his younger sister he was to die if she was in any way m****ted. As my 'wife' I had the same responsibility.

When she turned fifteen we were married. I was only seventeen, and my parents were against it. First because she was Muslim, and Turkish. Then because I was too young to marry. But we got married and I was promised her when she was 'old' enough to 'entertain' a husband. I would learn, this was birth control.

Being the west, the dress was casual, except at home in front of her father. As she was my wife, we could have normal conversations. Vilma was overly attentive to me, and others didn't understand. We did well in school, and we were all accepted to university. I studied Engineering, my friend a law like his father, and Vilma became a doctor. As a good wife, she gave me six children, only daughters.

My head still spins. Daughters are precious.