She’s wearing a white ski jacket with a high collar and green ski pants.
On her slim wrist, there’s a yellow plastic bracelet that says: Believe.
Last week, the petite, 21-year-old physical education student carried her country’s flag in the opening ceremony for the 2010 Olympics. Wednesday, Kalhor is scheduled to compete in giant slalom and, on Friday, in slalom.
She is the first Iranian woman to compete in the Winter Games. The first Iranian woman to compete in the Summer Olympics was shooter Lita Fariman in 1996.
After years of criticism that women are being denied the right to compete at the Games, the International Olympic Committee can take some credit for Kalhor’s debut.
Last fall, the IOC not only agreed to let women box in the 2012 Games in London, it threatened sanctions against countries that refuse to allow women to participate. Among those that have sent male-only teams in the past are Saudi Arabia, Brunei and Qatar, all Muslim countries.
One of the surprising outcomes of those two decisions is that in Afghanistan girls as young as 14 have tucked their scarves or hijabs under headguards, donned loose trousers and are duking it out in Kabul’s Olympic Stadium for the chance to compete in 2012.
Here, Kalhor is one of a number of female, Islamic athletes. But she may be the only one who follows the tradition of covering her head in public whether it’s a toque or, as in her official Olympic photo, a black hijab.
“I’m very careful about covering my hair,” she says through a translator. “Because my hair is so short, I can wear a toque. I wear it or another hat under my helmet when I compete and I make sure to cover my neck.”
Skiing is one of the few sports where Muslim women are not disadvantaged on the field of play by dressing modestly. They are also not at as great a risk of harassment from extremists even though as recently as two years ago an Iranian mullah reportedly said that women should not ski because the movement of their knees “looked more like dancing than sport.”
Kalhor is aware of what happened two years ago after Mahbooba Ahadyar qualified to compete in the 800- and 1,500-metre races for Afghanistan. Although Ahadyar wore a head scarf and long trousers for training and competition, she received death threats. A month before the Olympics, Ahadyar disappeared from Italy where she was training and applied for political asylum in Norway.
She was replaced on the Afghan team by Robina Muqimyar, who wore a scarf and track suit in the 100-metre sprint, finishing last in the field of 85 competitors.
Kalhor is not the only Muslim woman competing at these Games, but she is one of the few who wears a head scarf or hijab.
None of the three women competing for Turkey in figure skating, cross-country and alpine skiing wears a head scarf when they are not competing. And in competition, figure-skater Tugba Karademir is no more modestly clad than any of the others.
It’s the second Olympics for Karademir, a 24-year-old University of Toronto student. She was the first Turkish women to compete in figure skating at the 2006 Winter Games.
Kalhor insists that she can only speak for Iran, and she doesn’t believe there are any religious or cultural limits to women and girls pursuing sports. If they want to participate in sports, she says, they can.
The biggest limitation for Iranian women, she says, is the same as in most countries: Money.
Iran has ski resorts that are becoming popular particularly with Western, budget-minded snowboarders. But the resort’s infrastructure isn’t like in Europe or North America. There’s not a lot of grooming equipment, for example.
That’s why Kalhor is having trouble at Whistler. The run has deliberately been groomed to be hard and icy, which is what the top World Cup competitors prefer.
In Iran, the snow is soft and Kalhor’s transition to the ice has been painful. Earlier this week, she fell in training, injuring her elbow, although not badly enough to keep her from competing.
Yet even if there were well-equipped resorts, the cost of quality skis and boots is prohibitive for most kids. It’s why there are only 20 Iranian girls competing in league events.
Kalhor’s family has supported her skiing passion — “My parents made it easy for me.”
Her family isn’t rich. Her father is a retired government official; her mother a housewife with a heart condition that made it impossible for them to travel here.
What made it possible for Kalhor and her three siblings to ski is luck. The family lives in a village near the mountain resort of Dizin, about 60 kilometres north of Tehran.
The Kalhors encouraged all four of their children to ski. Marjan’s brother, Rostum, is also at the Olympics as coach of the men’s alpine team. Her other brother and sister both coach skiing at the junior level.
While waiting for the translator to interpret a question, Marjan flipped through pages of Italian clippings about the Olympics. She let out a small yelp of surprise when she saw her photo there.
The media attention she’s attracted has been a bit of a surprise to her, but she’s weathered it well enough that unlike previous interviews, Kalhor was not accompanied by her brother and other Iranian officials when we spoke.
Still, Kalhor seems a bit embarrassed by the question that she’s been asked dozens of times ever since she first competed in Europe two years ago and smiles shyly, flashing her braces.
Do you see yourself as a role model or hero for other Muslim women?
“The Olympics were my dream and I came for that. The only thing I was thinking about was to come to the Olympics to compete and I’ve done that.
“Now, I’m thinking only about doing my best. But if I can be a role model for girls in Iran to encourage them to compete, that would be nice.”
That seems certain. With 252,000 Google mentions and nearly 4,000 blog posts, Kalhor has already caused quite a stir.
