The Problem of Sexual Harassment

WARNING:
**This post is not going to be funny, and despite my nature I cannot find an inch of humor in these experiences. It may even be a trigger for people who have experienced sexual violence, so please don't read on if you have trauma associated with these issues.**

     Defining harassment is difficult, because there are many forms that I can pinpoint. For the purposes of this post, I will define sexual harassment as the subtle and overt forms of negative sexual attention I receive on a daily basis. To make it easier for everyone to understand I will create a "level" system to lead up to the more severe forms of street harassment that I have personally encountered. These include Level One harassment which are by far the most frequent: intense oggling from men on the street, a probing kind of violation. If you haven't experience it before, it's as if every man passing you by is looking at you naked, which is extremely unnerving and creepy. Other Level One forms often occur in taxis: personal questions about being married, asking for phone numbers, and even their attempts to touch you. In American culture, having a man touch my hand is a non-issue, but understanding the cultural context here in Egypt is important. A man should not and will not touch a woman he respects. Therefore, if an Egyptian man is touching you in any way, (unless you know him well), he is disrespecting you. Level Two I would consider to be men spewing lewd and inappropriate comments at me (calling me a whore in Arabic or making kissing noises/sexual grunts). I've been yelled at out of car windows (things I don't understand thanks to my elementary knowledge of Egyptian colloquial) and often hear a cacophony of kissing noises from random men on street corners. Level Three is being followed by a man or packs of boys who are only encouraged by being ignored and/or shooed away. Within my first week of living in Maadi, I was approached by a man who I thought was going to ask me for directions (because he asked if I spoke English), and instead he asked me for sex. I had no idea what to do so I protested in English and started walking away very quickly, but noticed that he was trailing behind me for a block. That's when I broke into a run toward my apartment. The next incident was when I was with my mother in Alexandria, and approximately three teenage boys started following me and asking me questions in English and getting way too close for comfort. All I could do was hold my mom's hand and try not to cry. Level Four I would characterize as hostile and dangerous, and are rarer but still happen more than necessary. Level Four is what happened to me last night. My roommate and I were walking back from dinner at a restaurant down the road from our apartment when a car of Egyptian teenage boys started to follow us and flirtatiously call out to us. We ignored them, and they drove ahead of us. We thought they were gone, but a few blocks later they reappeared and started yelling more aggressively at us and started moaning and jeering in our direction. Mind you, this was on a busy street. I was so angry that I screamed "Imshi", which means "go away". They had a good laugh at my ability to say this in Arabic, but I thought they got the picture and drove away down the busy street. That's when my roommate and I turned into our dark side street to walk the two blocks to our apartment building. Because of shoddy construction and garbage, sidewalks are basically unusuable so we were walking on the edge of the street.  We had no idea that they were still trailing us until a car revved up to probably 50 or 60 mph aimed directly at our backs, getting within inches of hitting us (on purpose) and then the boys sped away laughing. At this point we were shaken, but little did we know that they had more in store for us, because they were waiting towards the end of block, partially in an alley, like spiders waiting for their prey. We were already too far out of hearing range for the police at the beginning of the street to help us, and there was no one else on the street. Both of us were frozen on the spot as we saw one boy open the door to come toward us, and a million thoughts went through my head. I thought about how fast I could dash toward the police unit down the street, and if that would be fast enough to outrun about seven teenage boys who were bigger than me. I thought about my dentist's advice, that the best weapon I have is my set of strong teeth. I thought about the mace that I had left behind in New York, because the penalty for using it in Egypt is imprisonment. I thought about how the law is not on women's side here in Egyptian courts. They could twist any kind of assault on us into something that was our fault, that we brought this upon ourselves especially because we are American "sharmoutas", whores. I thought about the fact that these were privileged boys based on the type of luxury car they were driving, so they could probably do anything to us and get away with it. I was thinking about how loud I could scream. Now that I think of it, this is probably the most terrified I've been in Egypt, bar none. Within that second one action could have changed the course of occurrences. The second that that Egyptian boy opened the door, he seemed to rethink his plan of action, and shut the door almost as quickly as he opened it. Satisfied that they had scared the living daylights out of a pair of defenseless American girls, the group drove away.
This episode made me think about the fear that minorities of all kinds, women, dark-skinned people, transgender, and people across the queer spectrum feel when the majority subjects them to similar modes of violent or aggressive harassment. I was lucky in that I was not hurt in any physical way, but I did learn what it feels like to truly be defenseless.
Other Level Four harassment types have not occurred to me, but I have heard about them. One Canadian woman I talked to told me about a man who was watching her in a public street in Maadi and masturbating . This, apparently, is not an uncommon sight. There are also other kinds of harassment, the likes of which I have only heard about: men groping women on the Metro, the solution of which is a women's train car. My opinion on this is that it only puts a band-aid on the problem, and does not get down to the problem of men who cannot control themselves and who have no respect for women. Another example of a Level Four is an incident that occurred in downtown Cairo last year. A bunch of teenage girls and women were leaving a movie theater when about a hundred men and boys descended upon them and started ripping off their hijabs and grabbing at their bodies. For that reason, I do not go downtown. Level Five I would consider rape. Though, unlike the prevalence with which you find impersonal rape (rape by a stranger) in the United States, there is hardly any reports of this kind. Perhaps that is because few women are willing to report it, but there are no incidences of foreign women reporting impersonal rape. In the streets of Cairo, the abuse stops at groping. It's like trading one evil for another, but I would have to say I would rather endure any of Levels 1-4, instead of going through the hell of 5.
Sexual harassment in Egypt is not playful, flirtatious, or flattering. It's almost surreal, because it's so outrageous to hear about the frequency and kind of its occurrences that a person reading about it may think, "Could that really happen?" Yes, it could and it does. It has happened to me, and I am definitely not making it up. These are twisted, hostile, and intimidating acts that make even the strongest women fearful of walking outside. I hate that this happens to me so often, and I am glad that I will be leaving this country soon, because this is really more than I can handle. After a while, it starts to wear a person down. I'm at the point. I'm tired as hell, and I'm not going to take it anymore!

*** I promise my next post will be more pleasant.

Untitled, but not Un-opinionated

My tenth week in Egypt has involved such a jumble of events, that I don't have a unifying theme, and so it will remain title-less.

Topic One:
Judith Butler (!!!) --- Queer theory in a conservative Islamic country.  
As a gender studies enthusiast, I geeked out majorly on this one. 
In a shocking turn of events, Judith Butler, a leader in the field of gender theory (as well as a myriad of other theoretical fields) gave two lectures at The American University in Cairo. What deeply impressed me about her lecture on Gender and Performativity, was the diversity of those in attendance. Along with American liberals and Egyptian queer radicals, there were many women in hijab. I sat next to one such woman, who by all outward appearance, is a devout Muslim. Every time Dr. Butler said something potentially shocking about transgender or LGBT issues, or the fluidity of gender, I peered out the corner of my eye to catch her reaction. Yet she, like the perhaps thirty or more "hijabed" women in the room listened intently and open-mindedly to what this Jewish, lesbian, queer theorist had to say about the realm of gender theory. I thought about a scenario in which a group of evangelical Christians would be listening as reverently to Judith Butler, and I could not conceive of any place in space or time where that event would occur. The world does not give enough credit to the majority of Muslims.
The lecture itself was fascinating, and brought me into a realm of thinking that was elevated far beyond my normal level of contemplation. I have to admit that I agree with a lot of critiques on her work. She seems to relish being inaccessible to the common people, and she dives directly into the comparison of concepts (in this case, performativity and precarity) without first defining or providing examples to illustrate these terms.
I won't even begin to try and summarize her lecture for you, though I was better able to cling on to her argument for most of the two-hour long ride than the majority of the audience.
Perhaps of interest to you would be that she touched on some interesting debates and offered insights into current world issues. These included the banning of the niqab, face veil, in France. On this topic, she mused on the utter paradox of feminists in favor of armed police suppressing the public movement of a female minority. (Niqab-wearing women can be arrested and deported if they appear in public). Isn't this just as oppressive as the situation (a woman being forced to veil)that they wish to prevent?
Another issue was a recent rally in which a group of Mexican immigrant laborers demonstrated in California by singing the American national anthem in Spanish. She pondered on the interesting situation in which a group of people who have no rights under American law assembled, thereby asserting and creating a right they do not have, and sang an almost sacred nationalistic creed in a prohibited language.  She revered this as radical and good.
All in all, the night was a success, and re-affirmed my love of gender theory.

 

The crowd eagerly awaiting Dr. Butler's lecture 

Topic 2: A lamentation on the deplorable decline of children's television programming in the 21st century

This weekend I babysat for my Lawrence professors' children, who are bright, creative six-year-olds. That is why I was deeply saddened to have to watch the crap that television has to offer them. I remember the days when I was their age, in the early to mid-1990's when I was lucky enough to enjoy a renaissance in youth programming. The herald of this silver screen flourishing was none other than my beloved Nickelodeon. I admit that when I was a kid, I was quite a television junky. My little face would be pressed up against my dad's big screen t.v. for many afternoon and evening hours to watch "Clarissa Explains it All", "Rocko's Modern Life", "The Adventures of Pete & Pete", "Are You Afraid of the Dark?", "The Secret World of Alex Mac", "Shelby Woo", "All That", "Ren and Stimpy", "Angry Beavers", "Hey Arnold!", "Salute Your Shorts" and many other shows that have since slipped into obscurity over the last decade and half. In their place are mind numbing, poorly computer-generated (or Disney over-marketed) crapfests that make Spongebob look like Masterpiece Theater. What happened to the shows that children as well as adults can enjoy? Where are the programs that incite some brainwaves in children, and provide humorous insight into society? The world of television seems to have lost its sophistication, and we are left to witness the sad outcome.

A Blustery Day on the Bosphorous

I woke up to the faint sound of a light rain pattering on my window. Usually I would be disappointed by this type of weather, but its exoticism appealed to me. I don't even remember the last time I felt rain on my skin or temperatures lower than seventy degrees.
After a filling breakfast, I decided to enjoy this cool October day by walking back to the bustling part of the city to change money. The rain had stopped, and a quiet sunlight edged through the thick clouds. There was a damp wind gusting in from the sea, and I thought I was in heaven.
Then it started to rain again: it was a torrential downpour of epic proportions. I took refuge in a mall, but knew I had to get back to my hotel for a tour, so I bought a cheap umbrella and headed back, making it just in time for my tour guide to pick me up.
My excursion today was a guided cruise on the Bosphorous, the channel between the Black and Marmara Seas. It is also the point at which Asia meets Europe. Joining me on the tour was a forty-something American man who lives and works in Saudi Arabia, a British soft butch and her Indian girlfriend, and then our Turkish tour guide. I liked that our group was more cosmopolitan and international than the many large and sheeplike American tour groups that I had seen milling around the city- the suburban men wearing their short pants with socks and sandals (oh the humanity) and their wives who screeched across crowded marketplaces something along the lines of, "Hey Herald, they have goat cheese and sheep skins for sale here!". Face palm.
Even though the weather was not ideal for a cruise, we had a jolly time. The scenery was beautiful, making me want to stay here even longer. Most of the city beyond the center is forested, and many wealthy Turks build cottages and lodges along the Bosphorous. There were also mansions, the sultan's palace, mosques, churches, and a Byzantine fortress that was overtaken by the Ottomans in the 15th century.

The sultan's palace.
The fortress.

The group was so small, and the cruise so long that we were able to hold a decent conversation. The man told us that Saudi Arabia basically sucks, and that as soon as possible he would try and leave. Originally from Houston, he has been living in the Kingdom for two years as an accountant for Aramco and resides in an expat compound in a smaller city of Khafji. When I told him I was studying in Egypt, he remarked (without any prompts) that Cairo was horribly dirty, but that Saudi Arabia is not much better. The worst parts about it, he explained are the lack of natural beauty, dirtiness, and the extreme and unparalleled gender segregation. He remarked that his office building does not even have a womens' bathroom. And I thought Egypt was bad . . .
After the cruise was over, we went to two mosques that were built approximately five hundred years ago. The first one looked exactly like the mosque of Mohammed Ali in Cairo (who was an Ottoman), but the second one was charming and small with special Turkish tiles throughout. I neglected to bring a headscarf, so I had to borrow one. Thankfully, it was clean and pressed, and the loan scarves came in many colors so I got to choose one that best fit my outfit. Some people have asked if I am bothered by veiling, but in reality, I feel that (at least in religious spaces) it is a sign of cultural respect. Veils were mandatory in catholic churches until Vatican II, and most other Abrahamic religions require headcoverings for men and women. The veil has become so politicized (for good reason in many cases where it is forced upon women in some fundamentalist countries), but I feel that a woman should have the choice whether to veil or not. For many women, the choice to veil is empowering.
The first mosque.

The second mosque.
Me.

After the tour I planned to go and see a Sufi music concert and whirling dervish performance in the downtown Sultanahmet area. When I walked there, however, I learned that the show was sold out. I was disappointed, but I had a backup plan. When I visited the bazaar down the street from my hotel, there was a large open air cafe with billboards advertising live music and a dervish performance. I was skeptical about its quality, but decided to go, thinking that at the very least I would have a satisfying meal. When I got there, the place was packed with Turks, and the music had already started. Then the dirvish man appeared. His twirling was hypnotic, and his eyes were half-open in a trance-like gaze. He moved rhythmically to the drumbeats as he alternately raised and lowered his hands, experiencing the intoxication of God.

The music continued for two and half hours, during which I ordered a "pancake" that was really a spinach crepe, some tea, and an apple-flavored water pipe. (Yes, for you Austin Powers fans: I had a smoke and a pancake).
The experience was amazing. I smoked (something that will not become a habit) to stave away the bone-chilling cold, and read a book that I had brought from home. A few older American couples at the cafe were charmed by my smoking hookah and took pictures of me on their cameras (and mine) to tell their friends about the little girl who picked up the waterpipe for the first time just to have the experience.




Did I also mention, that I didn't know how to use it, which tickled the waiters immensely."You haven't smoked before?", they asked amused at my naivete.
When the music ended, and the embers were dying in my pipe, I decided to call it a night, saying a brief goodbye to a cafe that provided me with an unforgettable evening.

The anti-Barbie

Just a warning: this post is random.
Since last week I have been on the hunt for the Muslim Barbie doll named Fulla. *I really want to buy her!* She's going to be my personal souvenir from my trip to Egypt as soon as I can locate a toy shop in my neighborhood.
Let me tell you a little about Fulla, because I find her fascinating on many levels. Fulla was marketed to Muslim countries starting in the 90's as a backlash against Western values, and as a way to promote modest dress and behavior. Some say it was part of a larger movement to get more young women to wear headscarves. Among her warddrobe items is a full length hijab, and shorter veils. Her life also revolves more around the home and family, and she loves to pray.
Besides these obvious differences from Barbie, she is represented in many careers (doctor Fulla, teacher Fulla), and likes shopping, cars, and being with friends. There is no Ken equivalent, because dating is forbidden, but I think she is better off without him anyway.
If I can't find Fulla, I will buy Jamila, another doll that embodies the same values and is Fulla's rival.

When I locate her, I will let all of you know.