A few good men

There's been an outrage in India during the last few weeks since the gang rape last month. My college was travelling in India just after the tragic incident where a young girl was brutally raped and thrown out of a moving bus and reported that discussions were heated both on the streets and in media. I lived in India for three months in New Delhi, were the girl was raped, and perhaps the story hits me harder because of that. Or perhaps it's because, even though never getting any where near as tragic an incident, I too had some problems walking the streets of Delhi. In respects of that young girl, I'd like to share my own views and stories of my time in India. Unlike many of my earlier posts, this is a big one, so don't even start if you're in a rush.

For more information on the incident, I found an interesting article in Time World Magazine that includes some statistics as well.

The "white girl"

Have you ever dropped a plate in a busy lunch restaurant? The shatters fly loudly and, for a few seconds, the room goes silent and everyone turns to look at you. The stares are burning and you feel uncomfortable. Now picture this situation, without the broken plate and replace the lunch restaurang by a street and then replace the stares of harmless lunch eaters with a group of men. Why are they staring? Because you are woman. In my case, even more so because I'm white. And blond. This was everyday life in Delhi.


Just across the street from my school is a little coffe shop. I go there regularly to buy coffe, sweets and what not. Nothing special. Late february, finally the spring arrives in Delhi. For a Finnish girl even spring feels fairly hot and I put on shorts and a tanktop. Normal clothes for any summer day back home. I go with my friend to the little coffe shop and we sit in the sun and drink our coffees. When we walk back, my friend says "you should get a discount for all the customers you bring that place!" I'm clueless and like a naive idiot I respond "huh?" He explained how people working in the are were walking over to check out the "white girl".  Wow, I didn't know I was a celebrity. I look down at what I'm wearing and ask "should I not wear shorts?" At the same time I realise I now have to wear shorts. In a culture where cows are holy, but women can be raped on a public bus, I will not be pressured in to wearing anything else than what I would normally wear. About a month later, in Varanasi a young boy told me that I should cover up because it makes the men uncomfortable. Right, because thats my problem.

My coffe shop, view from my balcony.

Close to my school there is a big forest with nice trails that I used to explore on my morning runs. I was advised not to go running alone in the forest, but how could I not. There were peacocks and parrots and pigs and monkeys, it felt like taking a run in a zoo! So I went running anyway. One morning there was a middle aged man running in front of me. After I passed him it didn't take too long before he, in turn, passed me. He proceeded and was perhaps 50 meters in front of me when he turned around and started walking backwards. I don't know anyone who walks backwards on their morning runs, but perhaps you do. Could you please enlighten me why a middle aged man would walk backwards in a forest in south Delhi? After I passed him (again) it didn't take long before I could hear him running again. "That's it" I thought and took a turn to get me out of the forest. I didn't feel threatened, but I'm sweating and wearing a jumper and baggy pants, I'm not really anything to look at. And if you do want to stare, please do it openly like everyone else, don't try to hide it by walking backwards.

Little monkeys in my forest.

These incidents weren't too bad and the staring I got used to. It wasn't before I took the metro to the airport one day that I got really angry. A young man came and sat next to me and struck up a conversation. I could see him staring at my breasts, but still I tried to keep my cool and be polite. When we were closing in on my stop I asked the young gentleman if he could kindly get up so that I could get my bag and myself towards the doors. He moved about an inch and told me to proceed. I asked him once more if he could get up, my bag was heavy and I couldn't get out. He moved another inch. Fine, I took my bag and pressed myself past the idiot and just as I did, I felt him touching me in an unpleasant way. I was infuriated and told him to fuck off.

Another incident was at Holi, a yearly festival in India where people throw colours on each other. One reason for covering each other in colour, or so I was told, is that the colours make people invisible to the gods. I experienced this festival on the beautiful Andaman Islands. I guess the colours do make, at least the men, invisible to the gods as they obviously felt it would be totally acceptable to grope western girls in the act of covering them in green and yellow. One guy got under my shirt and under my bikini with his purple hand. I told him to fuck off too.

Holi action.

The problem, as I see it, is the lack of sex. Movies are censored, not even kissing is allowed most of the time. In a Bollywood movie, typically the young beautiful woman and the handsome young man will get closer and closer to each other, but just before they kiss, or even touch, the scene is brutally cut off, leaving the audience wondering and imagining what happened next. Women cover up in their beautiful saris, god forbid they would show a knee or a shoulder, while the men dress in hideous shirts and pants. It is not appropriate for a man and woman to kiss in public, but it is okay for two guys to walk hand in hand. Nobody talks about it and I bet no one is getting any. No wonder Indian guys are frustrated. And then what? I'm guessing the only thing they know about western women is what they learn from the internet porn they watch. Well I have news for you. Not all western women are porn stars. In fact, most of us aren't. We like to consider our bodies to be more then a peace of meat. I guess to them, I'm just a walking peace of ass. Nothing more. Nothing less. I admit I don't like the over sexed western style with 8-year olds dressing like adults and Christina Aguilera singing

Ah, dirrty

Filthy

Nasty, you nasty

Too dirrty to clean my act up

If you ain't dirrty

You ain't here to party

Ah, the poetry of the 21st century. But I truly believe India is under sexing it. Talk about it. Make it open. Get kids condoms, teach them about sex and perhaps, at some point, they won't have the urge to gang rape a woman.

I feel Indian men sometimes have the emotional intelligence of a puppy. A friend of a friend, a middle-aged man with wife and kids, wanted to take me for a tee because he wanted to learn about my culture. I thought this was nice, because that's why I love traveling, getting a glimpse of how other people eat and breath. After about an hour of chatting and drinking chai he left and I went home. A couple of days later he called me. He told me about a four letter word. "Do you know which word I'm talking about?" Oh god, you have got to be kidding me. "I'm talking about L O V E! I think I'm in L O V E with you Cecilia". Nope, not kidding. Also, in my class there was a guy I befriended, let's call him Jomet. At a school party one of his friends came up to me and said "Jomet likes you!"  Well then Jomet, could you please grow up and tell me this yourself. What are we, in high school?

An Indian Man.

That was not the only time I was disappointed by people (men) I thought were my friends. Obviously they weren't interested in my friendship. But, and here is the famous but, there were some rays of sunlight in my hatred towards Indian men. A few good men give me hope that India do have descent young men in its reservoar. They know who they are and to them I would like to say: thank you! If it wasn't for them, I would have left India cursing all of its men to the lower levels of hell, preferably a place with no women. Reading about the brutal raping of a 23-year old who is then left half naked in the street where people walk past her and do NOTHING! Her companion tried to ask the police for help, but at first they ignored them. Later, the girl died.

They raped the girl to death.

I still L O V E India, so I hope with all my heart that India can get its shit together and start showing their women the respect that they deserve.