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During the very beginning of my research I was passed an anonymous letter via a friend. What I read challenged some of my perceptions of Islam in the territory, about the international school community, and Hong Kong itself. It was donated as a contribution to the voices of young Muslims in Hong Kong. All I know about the girl that wrote to me is that she is from a wealthy South Asian Muslim family, she excels in her studies, she attended an international school in Hong Kong, and at the time she was planning to go to university in the United States. The letter was originally drafted as a confessional essay that would form part of her university application. Here is an excerpt from the text. Desert Flower by Waris Dirie was shoved under my nose by my mother, in an attempt to keep me entertained while she conversed with the librarian. Sighing, I flopped down into a chair and began to read. Six hours later, I closed the back cover. My head was spinning as I tried to comprehend the magnitude of what I had just read. Waris Dirie, the daughter of a Somalian goatherd, fled an arranged marriage at the age of twelve wearing nothing but a scarf draped around her. She is now a Special Ambassador for the United Nations as well as a supermodel. It was a story that traversed continents and oceans, spanned worlds of human pain, and inspired me to take what I had learned and make an attempt at putting things right. This book affected me so profoundly because Waris Dirie reminded me of myself. At the age of five, Waris Dirie underwent the process of female genital mutilation (FGM). This is the term used to refer to the removal of part, or all, of the female genitalia. It is practiced by Muslims all over the world. An estimated two million girls every year are at risk of being mutilated, this works out to 6000 a day. 135 million of the world’s girls and women have already undergone this horrific procedure. I am one of them. 12 Conclusion: Thoughts on an anonymous letter 192 Islam in Hong Kong As I am writing this, I honestly can’t believe that this has happened to me. When I remember the procedure; I remember being oblivious to fear, numb to pain and unconcerned whether I would live or die, I feel like I’m talking about someone else. I was butchered with my parent’s permission and I can’t help but feel bewildered, yet outraged that this could happen to a girl as young as six. There was absolutely nothing I could do, and there is nothing I can do now to put it right. This feeling of powerlessness has since haunted me and will continue to haunt me for years to come. Initially, I blamed my parents, but realized that my parents were victims of their upbringing, following cultural practices that have remained unchanged for centuries. They know that women in our community who have not been circumcised are considered to be ‘like men’ and are ostracized by society. The author’s very tender expression, that balances coming to terms with what happened to her, loving her culture and parents, and her desire to educate others in order to stop the practice is most touching. Nothing in my subsequent research contrasted with this account. Her story is the only one of female circumcision, or female genital mutilation (FGM) in Hong Kong that I have ever encountered. The subject, which is very much a taboo in Western culture, is seldom discussed in reference to Muslims beyond sub-Saharan Africa. Among South Asians the practice is very rare occurring within a very small group of sects. I must stress that there is little information on this subject available and it is thus both difficult and irresponsible to make generalisations. In Western multicultural societies FGM tests the very boundaries of acceptable multiculturalism (Shweder 2000; Boyle, McMorris, and Gómez 2002). The greatest challenge is that often the women who have undergone FGM are those who are central in sustaining the cultural practice for their own daughters. This tension, between cultural tradition and family is given a very human context in the letter. The story that this young woman presents is another remarkable account of Hong Kong’s everyday hybridity. It reminds us that along with the mundane and the workaday, the everyday includes the most challenging...

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