A young Muslim woman has had to fight hard for the chance to go to Spain. Will she prove her parent’s worries wrong?

BY HOORIA KATAL

IMAGE BY ANNA BONDARENKO

The air is filled with anticipation, the kind just before fireworks. At least, that’s what it feels like for Rahel. It’s her very first time going abroad and her first time travelling without her parents. Of course, there is her art professor and nine other undergraduate students with her, so she’s not completely alone. Rahel’s Bangladeshi Amma and Abba would not dream of letting her go so far away without that much reassurance, despite being twenty-one.

“I can’t believe we’re actually here!” exclaims Etef, Rahel’s classmate. Etef is going around, making a mess of their shared hotel room like a small tornado.

Etef is the only one on the trip that Rahel knows personally from her engineering classes at York University. Etef is part of the reason Rahel was able to convince her parents to let her go abroad. It helped her case that another studious Muslim girl was going, giving Rahel’s parents extra reassurance that she would be safe. It didn’t matter that the girls had only shared one course together and barely spoke outside of school; Rahel was willing to use everything in her arsenal in order to go on this trip. She argued that it would be an amazing educational opportunity to see Gaudi’s architectural work in person and this would enhance her engineering degree. Rahel used history to her advantage as well, by adding that there were parts of Spain that had been ruled by Muslims in the past. She let her Amma and Abba believe that part of her reasoning behind going on the trip was to learn more about Islamic history. She knew that if her parents thought there was a prominent influence of Islamic culture in Spain they would worry much less. The only thing she had to worry about was getting their permission to attend.

“I know. It feels so surreal to me,” Rahel replies, a touch of awe in her voice. Rahel is sitting on the bed closer to the window. The sunlight is flitting in through the crack in the curtains, hitting her unopened suitcase on the floor in the space between her bed and the window. It’s a little after ten in the morning. They landed an hour and a half ago in Barcelona and just finished checking into the hotel.

Rahel moves to the window and opens the curtains completely, letting the sun fill their little room on the third floor. The view from the room isn’t anything impressive. It’s just the main intersection in the front of the hotel, facing some apartments across the street. Rahel spots a small convenience store, a shawarma place, and a pizzeria at the street-level of the apartments. The bright light and heat of Barcelona prompt her to throw the window wide open — the warmth is a welcome change as the sun reaches its peak. It’s April and Rahel is glad she left the wet start of spring back in Toronto.

“I’m going to see the other girls on our floor. It’s a corner room. Theirs is probably a bigger room — much better for partying,” Etef says. Rahel turns from the window to see Etef with her turquoise green hijab off, her thick brown, shoulder-length hair popping out in waves. She goes to the shared bathroom with her toiletry bag and hijab in hand.

Rahel moves towards her suitcase, intending to unpack. She is looking forward to enjoying what Spain has to offer — tapas and paella in the sun, surfing on the coast, and dancing the night away. Rahel’s excitement builds up inside her like a blown-up beach ball, thinking about all the things she wants to do. The possibilities almost overwhelm her, but she feels eager to try as much as she can in the short three-week trip.

“I’ll come down with Jordyn’s group. She said she can braid my hair and tame this crazy mane,” says Etef, as she comes out from the bathroom. Her hair is puffed up like chocolate coloured cotton candy.

Etef changes her outfit. She is now wearing a short-sleeved maroon wrap dress with lace on the edges — her toned, mocha coloured legs almost completely bare. Etef walks to her bed and rummages around in her suitcase which is lying on top of the bed. She grabs chunky white sneakers, a small makeup bag, and tosses her hijab into her messy suitcase. Etef moves to grab her phone from where it’s lying on the edge of her bed and sits down tapping away on the screen with her arms full.

“Wow Etef,” Rahel says. “Lookin’ hot as hell girl!”

Rahel tries to hide her shock behind admiration. She becomes very self-conscious of her suitcase, filled with head covering hijabs, simple long dresses, and oversized cotton blouses. She notes the lack of hijabs in Etef’s suitcase. Rahel’s Amma helped her pack and her choices were more practical; they were made for ease and comfort, instead of trendy like Etef’s clothes. Moreover, Rahel’s conservative Amma would never let her out of the house in an outfit as revealing as Etef’s. Dressing modestly in Rahel’s home is the norm. She doesn’t think she could ever wear a dress like Etef’s and it makes Rahel feel more out of place than usual, as she is now the only hijab-wearing girl on the trip.

“Aw! Thank you love,” Etef says, looking up from her phone and giving Rahel a hair flip and a haughty smile.

“Gotta look good if I want to snag me a Spanish hottie,” Etef says. She goes back to tapping away on her phone.

Rahel continues to take her things out, thinking about what she will need when she returns — phone charger, slippers, shampoo, bodywash, pajamas, toothbrush, and toothpaste. She thinks about changing her outfit too but decides against it. Today is supposed to be a long day according to the itinerary, and she wants to be as comfortable as possible. Rahel pushes away her self-consciousness and focuses on organizing her suitcase.

Etef gets up from the bed and goes to the small nightstand between the two beds. She grabs one of the two white key cards to their room.

“Do me a favor Rahel,” Etef asks in a sweet voice, “Can you put my passport in the safe when you get a chance? It’s just by the pillow on my bed.”

“Snap! I almost forgot. Thanks for reminding me,” Rahel replies. She pauses in her unpacking to grab Etef’s passport from where it lies, scattered among dozens of other objects.

Etef moves to open the door to the room, typing on her phone with her arms still full, her feet covered only in black cotton socks. She pauses, holding the door open, still typing away on her phone. Rahel goes to get her own passport from her small black handbag that is hanging on the wall adjacent to the door.

Being closer to the door, Rahel hears talking outside in the hall — a woman’s very concerned voice floats into their room.

“Someone was in here! They went through my stuff — look! Look! My room is a mess!”

A man’s slightly accented voice follows, sounding calm and less concerned than the woman.

“Ma’am are you sure your room was not in this state before you left?” the man’s voice asks, not sounding the least bit worried. “Housekeeping has not made its’ rounds on this floor yet, so your room should be in the same state as before you left for breakfast.”

“NO, IT IS NOT IN THE SAME STATE! MY SAFE IS OPEN AND EVERYTHING IN IT IS GONE!” The woman is screaming and in distress.

“I’VE BEEN ROBBED AND YOU’RE SAYING IM DELUSIONAL?!” The woman continues to shout with aggression in her voice.

“Ma’am, I did not say that. But if there are missing items, please call the hotel concierge from the room phone to file a report. They can assist you.” The man’s voice is very dismissive.

Hearing this, Rahel turns to Etef. But Etef has already swept away with a slam of the door, a gust of wind, and not a single backward glance.

***

Rahel enters the lobby. She is the first person there from the looks of it. Only a lone uniformed concierge on the phone speaking rapid Spanish graces the bright, artfully furnished lobby. She takes a seat by the window, across from the elevator — hoping someone will come soon.

Rahel looks over at the hotel concierge, thinking of the hallway conversation earlier. The concierge speaks calmly to the person on the other end of the line. She wonders if the woman from the hallway was able to find her missing items or if she was dismissed by the concierge as well? Rahel worried after overhearing the dismissive attitude of the hotel staff. The hotel seemed safe and welcoming, but first impressions can be deceiving. Her Abba had told her to be careful when putting her valuables in the hotel safe — check that the safe is locked before leaving the room and confirm that the hotel door locks behind her when exiting the room. Rahel made sure to do both before she left for the lobby so she is sure her things are secure.

Seated, she pulls her black handbag closer to herself and opens it. It is now emptied of all valuables, stored safely in her room’s safe. Rahel did not know what valuables Etef had other than her passport. Rahel had texted the safe’s code to Etef in case she stopped by their room before coming down to the lobby.

After some digging, Rahel pulls out a pair of dark ombre cat-eye sunglasses from her bag. The glare of the Spanish sun is even more aggressive in the lobby of the hotel. As she does so, the other students and the professor reach the lobby. They took the stairs down, instead of the elevator.

“Nice sunglasses! They suit you quite nicely,” Rahel’s art professor, Clara comments.

“Shall we head out now?”

Everyone piles out of the hotel lobby and waits just outside the entrance of the hotel. As Rahel exits, the heat hits her skin, making her cotton blouse stick to her instantly. She welcomes it, instead of the chilly air conditioning of the lobby. Rahel spots Jordyn in the crowd. But she doesn’t see Etef.

Rahel approaches her and asks, “Jordyn, did Etef find your room? She said she was going to come down with you. I don’t see her.”

Jordyn looks slightly taken aback, but smiles.

“Etef? She told me she was going to back to her room. She wanted to put back her make up bag.” Jordyn replies, looking around at the rest of the students.

Rahel also looks around at the small group. No curly hair, maroon dress, or mocha coloured skin in sight.

“Did you not see her?” Jordyn says, a touch of worry in her voice.

Rahel says, “No…I got here five minutes before everyone. I was in our room up until I came down. Etef didn’t come back after she left to go to your room.”

“She might’ve gotten the room number mixed up. Let me call her,” Jordyn pulls out her phone from her back pocket. As she does, it chimes — a text. Jordyn reads the message, looks back up at Rahel and smiles reassuringly.

“She’s fine. Etef says she is too jet lagged and wants to rest. She told me to tell Clara and let her know she’ll be staying back. She must’ve just gotten back to the room now.”

“Aw! I hope she feels better. She was really excited to go out today.” Rahel says, more at ease.

Rahel feels sorry for Etef staying in the hotel room alone. She didn’t seem jet lagged earlier, but Rahel hasn’t experienced it herself, so she can’t say for sure what the signs are. In that moment, a thought occurs to her. With her concern in taking extra precautions, she forgot her key card in the room. Etef is there, but it would be better if Rahel had her key card since the group would be back late at night. She didn’t want to disturb Etef’s rest when she came back.

“I just realized — I forgot my key card! I’ll go grab it. Let Clara know I’ll be back, please!” Rahel explains, as she moves back towards the hotel doors.

“Sure!” Jordyn replies.

Rahel runs up the stairs to the third floor. As she gets to the stairwell landing, she hears loud rapid yelling on the other side of the door in the corridor. Rahel cannot understand a word of it. As she opens the door to the hallway, the yelling suddenly stops. Rachel can’t see much of anything in the dim hallway, with her sunglasses on. As she takes them off, she catches a glimpse of a commotion in the corridor.

Three tall, muscled, dark-haired men with black masks covering their faces.

The one further back is holding an unmoving, maroon-clad figure over his shoulder.

Before Rahel can even take a breath, she is pulled forward and all goes dark.

Hooria Katal is a Justice graduate from the University of Guelph-Humber. She was born and raised in Canada and enjoys reading. Her fascination for writing came from wanting to read more stories that showed diverse and relatable characters. She is hoping to become a lawyer. She is passionate about travelling, advocating human rights and storytelling. She enjoys long sips of coffee and binge-watching shows on Netflix, but you can probably find her messing around with her camera or planning her next adventure.

Image: Anna Bondarenko, Untitled, petals on canvas, 2020.

An earlier version of this story was originally created as part of The University of Guelph-Humber’s AHSS 2000: Creative Writing course.

Edited for publication by Morgan Barcroft-Martin, as part of the Creative Book Publishing Program.

The HLR Spotlight is a collaboration between the Faculty of Media & Creative Arts and the Faculty of Liberal Arts & Sciences and Innovative Learning at Humber College in Toronto, Ontario. This project is funded by the Applied Research & Innovation.