Day 12: Less than nothing. Non-existent.

Dear Reader,
      There's one thing that I've been omitting from my posts, but today it's reached its peak. I'm done with catcalling and sexual objectification! Why does being a woman mean I have to deal with this disrespect? Since when does having boobs and a butt give a man a right to belittle me or treat me as if I'm nothing? I've talked about making cultural errors before, but is it a cultural error to be a woman? Some days that's what it feels like. Okay, ranting aside, you are probably very confused. I've never once mentioned the cat-calling, honking, staring or leering in any of my other posts. Maybe it was because it made me uncomfortable or it was something I wanted to ignore. Today showed me that I can't ignore it anymore. I want to be treated fairly. I want my body to stop being an object. I want to stop being an object. Maybe a small post on a Lovett Senior Project blog that no one really reads won't stop sexual harassment and sexual objectification around the world, but today it's enough for me, at least to get my feelings out and come back to normal.
       
         First of all today was a bit irregular for me, because Kit, on account of having food poisoning from drinking Guatemalan tap water, didn't go to work or spanish lessons with me. For the first time I had to travel around Quetzaltenango alone. Maybe that was my first mistake, traveling alone. On average, Kit and I receive 3 cat-calls/whistles a day. Today I counted and I got 4 times as that. Maybe one girl is an easier target than two, I honestly don't know. It's not really something I seek to understand. The day started pretty normal. I got dressed, ate breakfast and packed my bag for the day. I checked on Kit and then left for the orphanage. I was nervous the whole walk to the orphanage, so much so that I practically ran there. Luckily, I was able to avoid attention (the real trouble started in the afternoon). I got a few stares, but that was something I was used to. Guatemala is not a very diverse country. People here are either of purely Mayan heritage or of a combination of Spanish and Mayan decent. Being black, I'm not exactly the average person here. It's a fact that I've become accustomed to.

       I got to the orphanage at about 8:35 and immediately went upstairs to start helping with the babies. Today was a surprisingly easy day only made harder by the fact that I was sick. I'd gotten a cold from climbing the mountain on Saturday and was still recovering. The babies' room is always hot, but today it was scorching. I can't count how many time I said "hay calour" (It's hot in here) or "Yo tengo calour" (I am hot). So I spent the next few hours sweating as I changed diapers, comforted crying babies and rocked children to sleep. By the time 12:00 came around I was exhausted and totally not in the mood for anything, but my bed and a 20 hour nap.

      The walk was relatively normal to begin with, but then there was a honk, followed by an obnoxious whistle. And that was just the first of many. There were kissy noises (apparently in Guatemala pursing your lips and making the kissing sound is a form of flirtation) followed by "hey baby". Some man even yelled at me from across the street just to get my attention. 1 or 2 cars slowed down (and one even stopped) next to me on the sidewalk to 'proposition' me. In truth they were more spaced out than this. I wasn't cat-called continuously for the entire 20 minute walk, but I might as well been. After the first few I was terrified. I felt dirty and lesser than. I wanted to shed my skin, crawl, and hide. I've never felt so personally violated by the actions of someone else. In these moments I would've given anything to be a man, because being a man in Guatemala guarantees you one thing: respect. Here my femininity and my body make me a target. It's makes me feel like less than nothing, almost non-existent. These people aren't seeing me. They see my 'assets' and then they sum me up based on that alone. I'm not human. I'm a walking set of boobs and a butt. No face. No personality. Nothing. Since when did being a woman mark me as a sexual object? Am I not good for anything, but sex?

       These experiences most nearly remind me of my Global Non-violence class. Last semester when I was walking around getting signatures for my senior project form, I introduced myself to Mrs. Switzer (I'd never had her as a teacher before) and then told her that in lieu of my senior project I'd have to unfortunately drop her class in the coming semester. Before I left her room she implored me to think about non-violence while in Guatemala and in what ways the concepts we would learn could be applied or incorporated in Guatemala. To be honest, then I didn't think much of her suggestion. I wasn't coming to Guatemala to be a social activist and start a non-violent revolution. I didn't really understand how anything I would learn in non-violence could apply to my experience in Guatemala. Today, I do.

      Before I left for Guatemala, we were talking about the existence and development of Rape Culture around the world. We even watched a video called Half the Sky which talked about the specific Rape culture in certain countries such as Cambodia, India, Sierra Leone and more. In these countries, gradually sexual violence, specifically against women, has been accepted into their society. In Cambodia there were girls as young as four years old being raped and sold into Brothels and in Sierra Leone there were girls 7 years old receiving FGM. It was horrible to watch and lead my class into a discussion about female violence not in these countries, but in our native country, America. We had some trouble identifying Rape Culture in America and that's when Mrs. Switzer informed us that because it's not nearly as overt in our own country, we may not be as prone to noticing it. That came to light for me while being here. It's not that I don't think cat-calling and sexual objectification doesn't exist in America, because it does. It's just that either I don't notice it as much or I'm not usually ina position to experience it (I'm very aware that there are places in Atlanta where a girl shouldn't walk alone). However, where I am in the world shouldn't matter. It should never happen period to any woman. What I've been experiencing is extremely mild compared to the experiences of girls in other countries and especially the experiences of the girls in Half the Sky. I'm certainly not equating my experience theirs. It's just that as a woman I'm struggling with living in a world that devalues me so much. While here in Guatemala I've been trying to wear bigger shirts and baggier pants just to avoid attention, but that shouldn't be the case. I shouldn't have to plan my outfits around being cat-called. I should feel free to be a woman in society.

       I've talked about seeing the beauty and ignoring the ugliness, but today I saw it. I saw the ugliness. I can only think to appreciate this experience in the sense that I've delved deeper. Accepting and learning about a culture means to see all sides of it. I'm not saying that cat-calling is some overt part of Guatemalan culture. Most men on the streets don't cat-call me, it's just a select few. However, the existence of a select few thinking that this is okay is enough for me to call it a problem. Not everything in America is beautiful. Not everything in Guatemala is beautiful. I'm going to have experiences in life that shake me, break me and force me to build myself up again. Today was one of those days. I'm learning, growing and changing. It's a part of being human and it's a part of growing up. I'm 18 now. I guess it's as good a time as any to be an adult. The rest of the world thinks I am.

Sincerely,
Journey