Good Morning F*#$ Pants

Let's take a moment and talk about sexual harassment.  There are oh so many things that are completely different about this country when compared with my homeland.  I understand that I am an interesting mix of independent New England feminist and shrewd New Yorker.  This makes me the girl who moved to East Harlem to live by myself and did not think twice about it.  My standard mode of operation when in New York is to walk down the street with purpose like I am not to be trifled with, I might be crazier than you.  And most important, however this maybe something only women have, pay attention to that "uh-oh feeling" that occurs in your gut.  I emplore you, always listen to the "uh-oh" feeling.  This has kept me out of uncomfortable and possibly dangerous situations.  I am not saying this to make anyone think that NYC is scary or that Kolkata is worse, but rather to illustrate the code of conduct that I have followed and that I continue to follow when I am here.  I may never get hit on, but I also don't get followed or my ass pinched.  I was propositioned once on the subway but the man was extremely intoxicated and one death look accompanied by my growling the phrase "do we have a problem?" sent him off the train.  My point is, only stupid drunk people mess with me back home.

Here in the lovely city of Kolkata, we have a bit of a different situation.  This culture is extremely conservative.  The woman dress in traditional Indian garb with the exception of a few of the more wealthy younger girls.  But even so, you do not see shorts or tank tops.  This can be mind boggling for westerners since the temperature is so warm and you so often see elderly women baring their mid drifts.  What's more is that their movies have no kissing.  I did see one movie that had kissing and a sex scene but I was so shocked I yelled "what!?" quite loudly drawing the attention of other movie goers.  In your averave Bollywood movie even if the couple gets married, you will never see them kiss.  Not a kiss on the hand or cheek, absolutely nothing.  I don't think I could come up with more than five American movies where there is no kissing. And even so, most of them would be movies like The Lion King and March of the Penguins.   

Then we take the fact that in many ways, this country is still fuctioning like it is in the 19th century.  Most marriages are arranged, and women still need to have a dowery.  A DOWERY I tell you! Technically its illegal, but it is still practiced. There is a tremendous prejudice against women.  Many still do not inherit their husband's propety when they die and so unless they have a son to take care of them, they are put out on the street.  If you see a little old lady in a white sari with no teeth, this is her situation.  

In the early 1980's feticide  was outlawed.  Thus so was finding out the sex of a fetus due to the large number or women who were electing to have abortions to avoid having a daughter.  But that does not prevent the people who reside in the villages from committing the crime or doctors letting the information slip out during and exam.  It has been estimated that somewhere around seven million women have gone missing in the last twenty five years.   This has created an extremely imbalanced gender ratio and explains all the trouble they have with human trafficking and the sex trade.  In short, India is a sausage fest.  One afternoon while standing by then entrace to the subway I counted over a hundred men but only twenty nine women entering and exiting the station. This has made finding the younger generations of men wives rather difficult.  It is also an accepted practice that many wives stay in the village to raise the children while the men go to the city to work, living there for most of the year.  So the imbalance seems even greater in the cities. Then on top of that, the more conservative and traditional people never even see their spouses naked. So, what we have is an extremely sexually repressed culture that is easily riled up and now throw in a bunch of westerners.

The more obtuse tourists have no issue sporting sundresses, tank tops and shorts.  I personally think you have to be a complete idiot to wear that here.  When you get off the plane in India you become aware of a strange phenomenon that will follow you through the duration of your stay.  Indian people stare at anyone who is not Indian. And Indian people gawk at white people.  And me? Oh, a ginger like me gets greeted like I am a real life leprechaun frolicking down the street with my pot of gold bestowing lucky charms on all the wee children.  This gets old so very quickly.  I challenge anyone to not become self conscious when people see you, then get the attention of everyone around them and then actually point at you.  It feels harmless when its done by a small child, but that is not always the case.  It can be down right infuriating when it is done by a group of young men. Especially those times when you are lugging a large package, and then not only do they stare at you but they also refuse to get out of your way.  This does not bring out the best in me.  

The other day I was walking down the street with a rather cumbersome box.  Two packages had arrived at the mother house, one addressed to me and the other to the Tucker family.  Since they had departed I took the package.  To make the transportation of both parcels easier, I opened both and combined them.  So instead of needing to manage two boxes of moderate weight I had one heavy and very unstable box.  The fact that the damage of the larger box was so severe that it made it difficult to wield through the crowded bus, sidewalks and streets was a major oversight on my part.  I was a bit miffed by my poor decision.  This was exacerbated by the heat and the men gawking at me.  Most days I walk down the street with my sunglasses on and my head held high, ignoring the attention that I get and hoping that I give off an air of "don't even think about it" and magically,  I am left alone.  This day however, it was impossible to walk down the street with dignity when the box was so heavy and I was so sweaty.  Unable to fall back on my usual defenses I resorted to giving off the air of a disgruntled troll.  Grunting, sweating and giving off an odor similar to a dairy farm I wielded my box like a club, bashing the men who were staring at me and unwilling to get out of my way while cursing them out.  Not one of my finer moments. 

However, I am happy to report that while my mother would be most ashamed of that sort of behavior my father would be delighted to know that I have yet to be propositioned.  I was told before I arrived here to anticipate the groping situation and not to fear defending myself.  I have so far been pinched twice.  But both times were strange and apparently the perpetrators had bad aim since it was the side of my knee that received the squeeze.  You do hear the occasional horror story of young boys jumping out in a pack and grabbing a girl's chest, a man following a lone woman as she walks through the streets at night, or sexual predators who lure women into the back rooms of their shops offering to help them try on a sari.  A word to the wise ladies, an Indian man would never offer an Indian woman help with putting on her sari.  But most of the time it is just staring, and men "accidentally" brushing up against you as you pass in the street.  The best defensive stance it to carry some sort of bag that you can hang over you rear, while holding the strap in the front covering your chest with your arms.  Other people may be concerned with the bag being an easy target for pickpockets, but I rely on the large amount of crap in my bag to serve as a defense.  I figure, I can never find my wallet in my bag without some severe rummaging, so likelihood of someone else doing it stealthily is pretty low.  

I must say however, the men that I have been working with have been nothing short of chivalrous.  It must feel very emasculating to not be able to protect your wife or female companion.  I met a young German man named Sam who certainly felt this way.  He had heard some stories from some girls he had met and personally witnessed a girl he was walking with get his chest grabbed and it was quite endearing to see how upset he was by it.  Sam, I should say is quite tall standing at 6'4" and practically a giant for Indian standards.  He also rowed crew, played lacrosse and American football when he went to boarding school in Connecticut.  So he has an athletic build which is something you really only see in the movies here.  The wonderful thing about Sam was his gentlemanlike need to protect the ladies he was with.  I have been the only female to volunteer as a tutor downstairs at Daya Dan for nearly six weeks now.  So when the day is over, I am also the only female heading back to travel on the metro, an infamous place for groping.  Sam, being so tall while I am so short was always very protective of me, despite the fact that I am nearly eight years older than him.  He always let me through the turnstile first and made sure that other people weren't cutting me off when I was in line to get a token for the train.  One afternoon a train pulled up that was jam packed full of people.  I hesitated thinking that we could easily wait for the next one, when Sam side stepped into the train checking aside the much smaller men creating a small birth for himself and me. Just before the train doors closed he pulled me by the arm onto the train.  I stood there koalaing him, "we're good friends right?" I asked from his armpit.  He laughed.  As the train pulled up to the next station he said, "Ok, I'm going to hold them back as long as I can. You get off the train and step to the side till we can get back on." This is as close as I want to get to actually being in an action movie.  Laughing and shrieking I jumped off the train as the doors opened.  Sam actually did hold them back, and just as the doors were about to close he grabbed my arm again and pulled me back on the train.  This time, another man yelled from the middle of the car, "madam, come over here." I knew he was talking to me, because there were no other women around.  Sam however saved me the trouble of responding by saying, " No, she's fine". This, thank goodness has only ever happened once. 

Sam has left now, but I was fortunate enough to fall in with a few new young men, one from Denmark and two from Canada.  Each of them, has proved to be just as chivalrous.  And even though my new Canadian friends will be leaving next week, I have faith that they will most likely be replaced by another group of young men who will be happy to protect me on the subway and have lunch after.

The reason why even a modestly dressed western woman is such a susceptible target for all of this is obvious, it's Hollywood's fault.  Young men pack themselves into movie theaters here to see Hollywood movies with their racy sex scenes.  Men see movies where the main character approaches a woman in a bar, they talk for a bit and then low and behold, in the very next scene she is in bed with him.  Clearly this means all American women are sluts.  So, naturally men will see a western woman and then, not even thinking that he is doing anything wrong say "Hello madam, I would like to f*#$ you".  Uh, no thanks.  Then on occasion we have a young man who does not actually speak English but gets a random collection of words and tries them out on the first white girl he sees.

One afternoon I was informed by Kate of such a man who approached her on her way back from the station.  He came up to her with his ever so witty greeting of "Good Morning f*#$ pants." I might add it was about 5:00 pm.  I believe she was taken aback enough to say "excuse me?" but when he repeated himself she did not dignify him with a response and kept on walking.

Somedays when I am alone, after hearing a particularly vexing story from another young woman I sit and day dream of all the wonderful cutting remarks I might use on such a disgusting man.  And I know from my own past dealings that I have no problem defending myself if someone gets too handsy, so there is no need to worry about that.  But then I also wonder, has any man ever had succeeded with such a line? Are there actually girls with big enough daddy issues to succumb to such a offensive and lame request? If you are reading this and you are one of those girls, stop and get some therapy.  If not for yourself, then please, for the rest of us, so that we may walk down the streets in peace.  And to the them men out there who lack the self control to keep their hands to themselves, I am inclined to take away your genitals.  You can have them back when you have demonstrated yourself to be mature enough to handle the responsibility.  

Until then India, not if my life depended on it.