The women from Indonesia, Iran, Bosnia, Somalia and Pakistan brought their small children, their towels and their beliefs about modesty to their own special place. They paid their fees, then covered the windows and glass door with paper.

The place came alive.

With no male older than 7 in the room, these women shed the heavy outerwear and exuberantly jumped into the pool they rented for 90 minutes. Fifteen adult women, two to three teenage girls, and 15 kids from 22 days old to 7 years old. They chatted in English and Arabic, but some just quietly glided through the water in their own private universe.

The weekly swim at Dive Utah, 2222 East 4679 South, began about seven years ago and now has become a tradition in Utah's Islamic community. It gives the women their own social experiences, a modicum of independence and defies the normal stereotypes of submissive Muslim women, forced to cover themselves by overbearing husbands. The women enjoy the water on their own terms in a protected environment.

The Koran says that women should cover themselves to be modest in the presence of men, says Ghaida Al-Barzinji, a youngish mother and first-grade teacher at Iqra Academy, Utah's only Islamic elementary school. "It's a matter of commitment to Islamic principles."

Arishia Kergaye, of Salt Lake City has worn a head scarf in public since she was 12.

"It's part of me," Kergaye says. "It's not something I would leave the house without. My husband had nothing to do with it. I do it because of my faith and my belief in God."

When women are wearing shorts or other revealing outfits, they attract looks and generate thoughts in the other gender. They can become sex objects, valued for their bodies, not for their other attributes.

Covering themselves provides "a sense of protection from unwanted gazes," Kergaye says. "We can be respected for who we are, not what our bodies look like."

It also frees them from society and Hollywood's pressure for women to spend a lot of time and money on hair, makeup and even cosmetic surgery.

"I teach my daughter to always dress modestly," Kergaye says. "I don't allow her to wear half the stuff that is available in the stores. So much of it is adult-like clothing for kids. It's very frustrating."

Even among themselves, the Muslim women still strive to be modest. At the pool, some wore full body suits, some wore modest swimming suits with biker shorts underneath, a few wore shorts.

Many donned life jackets for themselves and "floaties" for their youngsters and clustered on the steps in the shallow end. Apparently, the newest members couldn't swim.

That's not true of the regulars such as Al-Barzinji, who swam laps.

"I come for the exercise," Al-Barzinji says. "I enjoy the freedom to be able to dress in less constricting attire."

Both Al-Barzinji and Kergaye have tried taking their children to public pools. For Kergaye, it was always frustrating because she couldn't get into the pool with her children, fearing she would be weighed down with all her outer clothes and head-covering.

Al-Barzinji, on the other hand, just dove in with all her layers down to her ankles and wrists. She got some stares, she says, but no persecution.

"If you act normal," she says, "people treat you normally."

Peggy Fletcher Stackcan be reached at pstack@sltrib.com or 801-257-8725. Send comments about this story to religioneditor@sltrib.com.