Since this Sherpa* is no longer in Chile, my now extremely inaccurately
titled blog will cover travel and life adventures in other parts of the world . Let’s start with India.
My two weeks there struck a cord with me. Because of men.
Before India, I hadn't bothered addressing street harassment because I wanted to focus my energy on what I considered more important women's issues, such as rape. But India had plans to change that. Perhaps I was more affected than usual because of the recently highly publicized case of gang rape in India and because I had been warned about men and clothing there. Or maybe I was getting exhausted from seeing relentless attention given to women’s appearance no matter what country I was in. Nevertheless, the following is what I experienced on one of my days in India:
- I was taking photos by a line of people when a man walked by and stood
next to me. I felt something brush my behind. It was so slight I thought he
must have touched me unintentionally. I continued taking photos. He walked by
again, and again I felt something brush my butt. Definitely intentional.
- At least three groups of men tried to surreptitiously take a photo of me, and not in that I-want-to-capture-the-local-culture-when-traveling kind of way. One group asked if it could take a photo with me when it realized I knew what it was doing. Um, no.
- As I was paying for my food at a restaurant, one of the workers whispered "I love you." I asked him to repeat what he said. His response was something about paying the bill.
Why didn't I do something? Language played a part. Because I didn't speak the local language, I wasn't able to mouth the men off or have a conversation with them. I uttered a few words in English but I don’t know how much the harassers understood.
As an anthropology major, wasn’t I supposed to be culturally respectful? I wondered if by making an issue of what happened I would be that outsider who claims her action is the appropriate reaction.
I began to think I was dressed much too inappropriately, as if my lack of clothing was an invitation for men to stare and touch. Within days I felt I had something to hide: my body. Imagine what years of dealing with this does to a woman.
(To be clear, harassment isn’t a problem specific to India; it happens
everywhere, on different levels. In the US, a group of men clapped at me and
another group shouted as I passed them on my way to yoga class. I actually
looked down to make sure I hadn’t forgotten to put on my shorts because I
couldn’t understand why I was getting such strong reactions from strangers. Some may
think the men were just having harmless fun, but are their actions harmless when
they are unsolicited, unwanted and frequent, and leave the woman feeling uncomfortable
and objectified?)
I traveled on in India, uneasy and upset by men’s lingering stares at any exposed part of my body. But towards the end of my trip, I saw a message-filled wall that restored some faith in change, in giving women some power to be more than just sexual things. It appeared new, as if in response to the gang rape that eventually took the life of a young woman in December 2012. One of the messages read:
Tell MEN [emphasis mine] to not go out past 6 pm.
Do I have the right to opine about a culture of which I am not a part? Maybe, maybe not. But I am also a woman who felt objectified, disrespected, and threatened by men of that culture. And I admire the writer’s message to question simplistic and restrictive solutions, such as limiting women's freedom, to end sexual assault and harassment.
Note: While street harassment is not sexual assault, I wrote this
post to address both. Travelers do not have immunity from being raped. A few days after I left, a Swiss woman was gang-raped in central India while traveling with her husband. I am not saying this to scare women from going there, but rather to help people
understand the reality of the country right now and take caution when traveling to India, and really, anywhere. India is an intense, beautiful, and vibrant place
that inspired me in ways I will not get into here. So go and discover for
yourself what I mean. Or, if you want to be an armchair anthropologist, read my
next post about the amazing people I met there. :)
My two weeks there struck a cord with me. Because of men.
Before India, I hadn't bothered addressing street harassment because I wanted to focus my energy on what I considered more important women's issues, such as rape. But India had plans to change that. Perhaps I was more affected than usual because of the recently highly publicized case of gang rape in India and because I had been warned about men and clothing there. Or maybe I was getting exhausted from seeing relentless attention given to women’s appearance no matter what country I was in. Nevertheless, the following is what I experienced on one of my days in India:
 |
| Feel this, not me. |
- At least three groups of men tried to surreptitiously take a photo of me, and not in that I-want-to-capture-the-local-culture-when-traveling kind of way. One group asked if it could take a photo with me when it realized I knew what it was doing. Um, no.
- As I was paying for my food at a restaurant, one of the workers whispered "I love you." I asked him to repeat what he said. His response was something about paying the bill.
Why didn't I do something? Language played a part. Because I didn't speak the local language, I wasn't able to mouth the men off or have a conversation with them. I uttered a few words in English but I don’t know how much the harassers understood.
As an anthropology major, wasn’t I supposed to be culturally respectful? I wondered if by making an issue of what happened I would be that outsider who claims her action is the appropriate reaction.
I began to think I was dressed much too inappropriately, as if my lack of clothing was an invitation for men to stare and touch. Within days I felt I had something to hide: my body. Imagine what years of dealing with this does to a woman.
 |
| My workout outfit. It's comfortable-that's why I wear it. |
I traveled on in India, uneasy and upset by men’s lingering stares at any exposed part of my body. But towards the end of my trip, I saw a message-filled wall that restored some faith in change, in giving women some power to be more than just sexual things. It appeared new, as if in response to the gang rape that eventually took the life of a young woman in December 2012. One of the messages read:
Tell MEN [emphasis mine] to not go out past 6 pm.
Do I have the right to opine about a culture of which I am not a part? Maybe, maybe not. But I am also a woman who felt objectified, disrespected, and threatened by men of that culture. And I admire the writer’s message to question simplistic and restrictive solutions, such as limiting women's freedom, to end sexual assault and harassment.
 |
| Food on banana leaves-one of my favorite parts of India. |
*I am not actually a Sherpa.
I don’t have unique hemoglobin-binding enzymes and definitely don’t do doubled
nitric oxide production to be able to breathe with ease at high altitudes. In
fact, I’m pretty sure I’d need an oxygen tank if I were to go above 5,000
meters.
