In all fairness, only two of those three things are related.
I mention Ice-cream - the unrelated element here - only as a hat-tip in the direction of the sibling.
In her post today, sheaccuses me reminisces about the childhood us - specifically, about me gobbling up my own choco-bar and then staring at her mango bar until she let me have some of it.
This, unfortunately, is true.
As karmic payback perhaps, I haven't had real ice-cream in well over six months, now. Seriously.
I'm rather sick of coconut milk vanilla bean ice-cream, which as delicious as it may be, is not ice-cream.
(Deep Sigh.)
I *do* recommend this vanilla pudding, though. Like the author says, it's not ice-cream, but the flavor is a-mah-zing! (lilt voice here).
As part of today's Blogathoning, Pearls and Jades talks of her trip to India and of the incredible creepiness of being harassed on the streets of Delhi (you know, rubbing of body parts against you, yelling, cat-calling, inappropriate touching, open masturbation).
I'm ashamed. And I want to apologize for this terrible experience of - Ahem! - Incredible India.
Incredible is one word for it, I suppose.
Unfortunately, though, this has been my experience of good 'ole India as well.
(Pearls, as a teenager traveling in Delhi, I've had someone rub their penis into my back through their clothes and mine. I empathize. It's not that you're a stranger, it's that you're a Woman Person.)
So much so, in fact, that when I travelled alone on overnight buses (for work or pleasure), I've carried a kitchen knife on my person.
I've used it.
Once.
To jab at a groping hand.
I know friends and family who have carried other things - safety pins, mace, chilli powder.
I've heard the "Asking for it" argument by way of explaining this behavior way too many times. And each time that logic made me livid (the sibling will vouch for the severity of my anger). Simply because, this line of reasoning essentially boils down to:
1) "You're a Girl / Woman / Person with Breasts and A Vagina. Therefore, you're asking for it."
2) Men are, by default, harassers, assaulter, and rapists. They're Allowed To Be That Way. You - for #1 above - clearly have to do the changing. Apologize for being and therefore awakening the Man's clearly uncontrollable natural state of being.
Because, you know, we have a choice over the sex that we are.
Oh wait. We Don't.
(There's that other thing - the gender we enact, but that's a whole different story for later).
And this is why posts like this one - despite their ostensibly good intentions and goading to take personal responsibility - also make me angry for the appropriation of Ho'oponopono to tackle systemic and systematic injustices.
I can't help feeling that this idea:
I mention Ice-cream - the unrelated element here - only as a hat-tip in the direction of the sibling.
In her post today, she
This, unfortunately, is true.
As karmic payback perhaps, I haven't had real ice-cream in well over six months, now. Seriously.
I'm rather sick of coconut milk vanilla bean ice-cream, which as delicious as it may be, is not ice-cream.
(Deep Sigh.)
I *do* recommend this vanilla pudding, though. Like the author says, it's not ice-cream, but the flavor is a-mah-zing! (lilt voice here).
As part of today's Blogathoning, Pearls and Jades talks of her trip to India and of the incredible creepiness of being harassed on the streets of Delhi (you know, rubbing of body parts against you, yelling, cat-calling, inappropriate touching, open masturbation).
I'm ashamed. And I want to apologize for this terrible experience of - Ahem! - Incredible India.
Incredible is one word for it, I suppose.
Unfortunately, though, this has been my experience of good 'ole India as well.
(Pearls, as a teenager traveling in Delhi, I've had someone rub their penis into my back through their clothes and mine. I empathize. It's not that you're a stranger, it's that you're a Woman Person.)
So much so, in fact, that when I travelled alone on overnight buses (for work or pleasure), I've carried a kitchen knife on my person.
I've used it.
Once.
To jab at a groping hand.
I know friends and family who have carried other things - safety pins, mace, chilli powder.
I've heard the "Asking for it" argument by way of explaining this behavior way too many times. And each time that logic made me livid (the sibling will vouch for the severity of my anger). Simply because, this line of reasoning essentially boils down to:
1) "You're a Girl / Woman / Person with Breasts and A Vagina. Therefore, you're asking for it."
2) Men are, by default, harassers, assaulter, and rapists. They're Allowed To Be That Way. You - for #1 above - clearly have to do the changing. Apologize for being and therefore awakening the Man's clearly uncontrollable natural state of being.
Because, you know, we have a choice over the sex that we are.
Oh wait. We Don't.
(There's that other thing - the gender we enact, but that's a whole different story for later).
And this is why posts like this one - despite their ostensibly good intentions and goading to take personal responsibility - also make me angry for the appropriation of Ho'oponopono to tackle systemic and systematic injustices.
I can't help feeling that this idea:
I'm fully and completely responsible for this situation in my life.This is happening because of some sub conscious memory, I don't need to know what it is.
I'm sorryPlease forgive meThank youI love you
and calling everyone to take *equal* personal responsibility is just another form of victim blaming.
2 comments:
Oh, and there I was, thinking that I should have put on some more cover, buying a loooong skirt. It still happened, so I thought my being a stranger must have signaled easier access. Or something of the sort. This is sad.
That is also probably somewhat - by features and bearing, you were likely signaled as an outsider. But then, Indian girls from the north east of the country are also marked as outsiders and attacked pretty viciously sometimes, because of their features.
Unfortunately, the way things are there is no way of winning this. In theory, you did the appropriate thing by choosing "modest" clothes, yeah? But, then that's not a sure shot protection against anything. You will be groped/assaulted verbally or physically - whether you wear a long dress or short, whether you have "Indian" features (whatever the hell that is), or not; whether you are with a girl or not (I notice that you mention that it happened less when you traveled with a guy, but the point is that it still happened). Basically, it's your damned fault for being ... A girl. (I'm being sarcastic,of course. I don't think it is, or could ever have been your fault).
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