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Published: December 4th 2008
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Domingos, mi amor...
"Sundays, my love..."
This is generally what the streets look like on Sundays - empty!
And these are the days I like to wander and take pictures of the architecture and plants and bugs...ya know, funny white girl stuff I. Hate. The. Attention. From. Men. Here.
Hate.
I was told about, read about it, and thought I prepared myself for it, but, of course, it’s a whole different plate of objectification when you get here.
And, please, let me explain exactly what it is:
The most common cat-call is quite distinct - like an inwards suck-hiss. Hiss..yes, there’s a definite hiss to it.
And I must say, this hiss-like sound adds to the charm of the calls…
There’s also the “Allo-allo!, mi precioooosa!” - “Hello, my preeeecious!”, “Que guaaaapa, ” - “Hey sexy! ”, random yells accompanied by the inwards suck-hiss and other charming combinations.
And these are constant -- walking to work early in the morning, walking home in the evening, without or with friends (male or female); it’s from men in groups on a sidewalk, men driving by in moto-taxis, men lounging solo in the streets; from guys working in the streets to professionals in suits - there’s no escaping harassment (yeah, that’s right, I said it, harassment) in public spaces.
At first, I tried to just get used to it - another cultural “hurdle” for a very white girl in a very non-white city.
However, I think I’m just way too Canadian - I like, and even take pride, in walking in my streets without (much) verbal-shit coming my way.
And by the end of September, I felt far too much stress about something that was ever-present and unavoidable.
In trying to make some solution for myself, I realized a few things:
- speaking/paying attention to them only encourages them (kind of like whiny children, ya know?)
- trying the “acceptance” route just stewed anger in my innards.
- I needed to do something.
And thanks to one sunny afternoon in my grandparents’ backyard, and with detailed instruction from my cousin Michael, I realized my weapon of choice: a good ole hawk and spit.
When I was about 7 years old, Michael instructed me on the art of producing and projecting substantial mucus-saliva-balls out of my mouth, and I have decided that these are my weapons of choice to counteract the unfortunate and prevalent machismo attitudes in Iquitos.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not spitting on the men or young boys, and I don’t even do it every time I get unwanted attention. But after whistles, leers or yells that cross a line for me, I generally stop, move my head in their direction, and then give ‘er to the sidewalk…and if one lands dangerously near a particularly offensive dude, I don’t get too worried…
Sometimes it doesn’t phase the men, but I do get my little satisfaction when I hear confused silence and/or quiet talking.
: )
I do realize this may be a bit risky, and maybe offensive (I am on a CIDA internship after all!), but its helping me get through something tough, with, really, minimal impact on the person/people it’s aimed at.
So I offer my thanks to my cousin Michael, and will continue to offer my loogies in exchange for the Iquitos suck-hiss-leers.
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More stuff keeping me happy and healthy:
- Joining the gym! I sure did feel like a rich whitey when I first joined; however, it was cheap, I have 2 hour lunch breaks to play with, and the climate really only inspires consumption of beer and ice cream. Something had to be done. And, really, the over-dramatic yells and groans of the men lifting weights, and their love of Shania Twain has been worth it.
- Mix a tiny metal colander, a napkin, and some boiled water, and there’s my coffee maker!
***Answers to the pending questions of my enviro-friends: “yes” the napkins are bleached, “no”, there aren’t any bleached ones, “no” I can’t use a sock cause I have very few of them with me, and “no” I can’t buy one here cause the only ones I have seen have been oddly thick.
- Dance parties. In a club, in my room or in my head sitting at my desk -- nothing makes me feel whole again like a fierce dance party.
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andrew
non-member comment
Sssss Girllll! ¡Qué lindas piernas! ¿A qué hora abren?