'Unveiled' reveals the unique strength of five Islamic women

Photos of Rohina by Sadaf Syed (whose photography of Muslim women wearing the veil is in the lobby during the run of Unveiled )

A teenage rapper, a high-powered attorney, the bereaved sister of a man who died in the rubble of the Twin Towers, a wedding dress designer, a Christian-born southern belle – not women you’d generally think of as wearing the hijab. But Unveiled, a compelling 70-minute piece written and performed by Rohina (she only uses a single name), is rich with illuminating surprises.

In its gentleness, Unveiled is powerful – a rewarding paradox that director Ann Filmer puts to great use. In the hands of a lesser writer, Unveiled  would be just another issue play, self-consciously and didactically hitting the audience over the year with multi-culti politically correct maxims or tidy tales intent on tapping into liberal guilt over the eternal oppression of minorities in the good old U.S. of A.

It is instead a rich piece of storytelling, its dramatic force coming from finely etched characters journeying through difficult, engrossing and subtly edifying circumstances. Rohina frames each of the five monologues in the piece with the preparation and serving of tea: Pakistani chocolate chai brewed in a saucepan, sweet, mint-laced Moroccan chai in a pot, Shay bil Maramiya, steeped with the tiniest pinch of sage. You can’t taste the delicate flavors she evokes in discussing precisely how each beverage is created and served – but you’d almost swear you could. From these warmhearted, distinctive welcomes, Rohina spins the stories of Islamic women making their way in a post 9-11 world. Dressed according to the tenants of hijab – the wearing of modest clothing including a hair-covering head-scarf – they are women viewed with suspicion (or worse) more often than not,

On a set that’s bare but for a small table and chairs, Rohina introduces us first to Maryam, a Pakistani-American who could probably make millions if she sold her chocolate chai recipe to the likes of Starbucks. Her story seems to be a happily-ever-after tale of marriage in her adopted city of Chicago where Devon Avenue provided a joyous refuge of “brown people” and an antidote to the devastating homesickness Maryam experienced after moving from her homeland to an all-white Chicago suburb. But the story is more complicated than it initially seems. Through Maryam’s unblinking recollection of an incident at her best friend’s wedding, the audience is faced with the tragic ugliness borne of ignorance, arrogance and grossly misplaced fear. In the end, redemptive, joyous poetry (“Dance when you’re broken open. Dance when you’ve torn the bandage off. Dance in your blood.”) provides a defiant rejuvenation in the face of something far more crushing than homesickness.

The structure is similar for each of Rohina’s monologues: She establishes a fully-formed personality with each woman,  drawing the audience into worlds that are both unique and truly universal. The understated graciousness of these women has an almost lulling effect. Covered from head to toe by veils and smiling with amiabley, they initially seem demure, domestic and even submissive. But as Rohina deftly illustrates, the veils cloak immense strength, both figuratively and literally. These are women whose kindly demeanor is founded on steel. Under attack, they defend themselves with implcable courage and intelligence.

In addition to subverting the stereotype of veiled women as oppressed women, Rohina tackles the misconception of Islam as a monolith of groupthink. Of course it’s not - the women of Islam are as varied and dissimilar as the women of Judaism or Christianity or Buddhism. While many central tenants are unchanging, the individuals gathered around those tenants create a multi-hued collage not a solid block monochrome.

Unveiled isn’t groundbreaking in its insistence that racism and xenophobia are evils borne of fear and willful, narrow-minded anger. But the very ordinariness of Unveiled gives it power: Bigotry is all around us, every day. You can find it at weddings, in classrooms and cafes. Seeing it in all its banality is the first step toward combating it. Unveiled will help open eyes. But of equal importance for a stage production, it is terrifically entertaining. Rohina has created vivid characters in wholly compelling situations. If the piece provides a bit of enlightenment while wrapping its audiences in masterful storytelling, so much the better.

Unveiled continues through May 30 at the 16th Street Theatre, 6420 16th Street, Berwyn. Tickets are $16. For more information, call 708/795-6704, click here, or log on to www.16thstreettehater.org