Behind the Veil in Persia and Turkish Arabia: An Account of an Englishwoman's Eight Years' Residence Amongst the Women of the EastHume-Griffith, M. E.
Philosophy
Behind the Veil in Persia and Turkish Arabia: An Account of an Englishwoman's Eight Years' Residence Amongst the Women of the East
Hume-Griffith, M. E.
Arabian Peninsula -- Social life and customs; Iran -- Social life and customs
Then again, I have seen a room full of people all in despair over
a child of perhaps two or three years old, who refuses to drink his
medicine ordered by the doctor. The father begins the performance by
solemnly taking the glass containing the medicine up to the child, and
saying to him, "Oh, my beloved, will you take this medicine?" "No,"
says the child, and pushes it away. The father looks round on the
audience for signs of wonder and astonishment at the marvellous
doings of the child. Then perhaps the uncle has a try, and meets
with like success; then the mother, the aunts, and a few friends
all beseech the child to take the medicine, saying, "For my sake,
for the sake of your father, your mother, &c., take this," but,
of course, all are unsuccessful, and they all shake their heads and
say, "I told you so, he will not take it," and it being a "khatiya"
(sin) to force a child to do anything against his will, the child,
of course, gains the victory in this as in everything else. If you
suggest pouring the medicine down the child's throat by force, the
parents and friends will put you down as being a monster of cruelty.
If there happens to be only one boy in the hareem, he becomes
almost like a little god to all the women folk. A small friend of
mine was in this position, and although a very jolly little boy,
was fast becoming unbearable in his actions towards his grandmother,
mother, and aunts. He was only about eight years old, but one day
he was calling on me with his aunt, whom I loved very much, when,
without the smallest provocation, he suddenly took up a stick and
gave his aunt two or three hard cuts across her shoulders with it,
and then ran laughing out of the room. I did not say anything to the
boy, but presently my husband came in to lunch, and I asked him to
give the boy a beating, and told him what he had done. So we went to
hunt for the boy, and found him hiding behind his grandmother, who
besought us not to touch the darling boy. My husband gave the boy a
very slight whipping, and told him if ever he did such a thing again,
he would give him something to remember! The boy was so astonished
at being chastised, that to this day he has been a changed boy,
and much more bearable in his home life.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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