Saturday afternoon I headed to Daegu, a town about two hours away on the slow train. I arrived and found my friend Jackie, who had graciously agreed to host me. We hung out for a bit, chatting about various things, until her friend Stefanie also joined us. Then the conversation took a fun turn towards post-feminism and pornography. (Sorry, Grandma!) So we had a really fun and animated conversation, on a topic that I haven't really been able to revisit lately. It's amazing how much just talking about something important can wake you up, and how much connecting with strong, positive women can make you feel powerful and safe.
So then we headed downtown, where there were various Halloween festivities going on. It was super fun. I sang, I danced, I ate too much junk food. I ran into nice people I'd met at orientation and friends that don't even live in Daegu. We clung to each other, hands locked onto each others elbows, grinning stupidly into each others' faces. At about four in the morning, we decided to get "bag drinks" (cocktails mixed together to take away in a heavy-duty ziplock) and they gave us sparklers. So we ran through the streets, trailing pixie dust behind us, and I was happy.
Sunday morning I was, to put it mildly, much less happy. The perils of trying to hang with the twenty-two year olds! But Jackie went out and brought back sweet bread and coffee, and I managed to get myself up and dressed for the opera. The bus ride was a bit brutal, for sure. At one point we were stopped at a light and someone was literally jackhammering on the sidewalk. Jackie groaned, "I feel like they're doing it to me on purpose."
So we got lunch, and met up with others, and headed to the opera house. Tannhauser was good, even if the male lead left something to be desired in the acting department. Observations: in the party scene, all the Korean extras came in with their cell phones and started taking selfies. Non-iron applause feels disorganized, insincere, and just generally wrong. What does the pink paper mean?! Then it was time for dinner and catching the train home.
The train ride home started innocently enough. I was sitting, happily reading articles on motivation theory, when I realized that my seat partner had changed. In place of the old lady that had gotten off at the last stop, there was now an old man. Staring at me and rubbing himself, breathing on my neck. I did what I always do, and blatantly took a picture of him with my phone. He was undeterred, so I got up and changed cars. He followed me, and again when I changed cars a second time. I was contemplating just locking myself in the bathroom when I found the dining car, where I could successfully hide myself in a group of families with children, and he wandered off. This all happened on the totally crowded, well-lit train!
And then I got really livid. Because, seriously, how is this an okay thing?! How is it possible for the actions of one individual to so quickly and totally steal away all the feelings of happiness and connectedness that I was feeling, and leave me scared and alone? Why do we still live in a world where women have to be constantly aware? Because that's the thing that men don't understand. It's not that women live our lives afraid or worried or scared. It's just that we have to live them aware. Aware of our surroundings, aware of the looks that rest on us, aware of the length of our skirts and the grabability of our hair. And it's bullshit.
I caught a taxi home, arms and legs shaking with impotent rage, and Tiff made sure I was ok. Sure, I said. It's happened before, I said. At least he didn't touch me, I said. How sad is it that that is the standard? He violated my privacy, personal space, and sense of security. He violated my personhood, turning me into an object to be used for his needs. But at least he didn't touch me. How sad is it that so many women just nod, because they've lived this countless times, too?
So then we headed downtown, where there were various Halloween festivities going on. It was super fun. I sang, I danced, I ate too much junk food. I ran into nice people I'd met at orientation and friends that don't even live in Daegu. We clung to each other, hands locked onto each others elbows, grinning stupidly into each others' faces. At about four in the morning, we decided to get "bag drinks" (cocktails mixed together to take away in a heavy-duty ziplock) and they gave us sparklers. So we ran through the streets, trailing pixie dust behind us, and I was happy.
Sunday morning I was, to put it mildly, much less happy. The perils of trying to hang with the twenty-two year olds! But Jackie went out and brought back sweet bread and coffee, and I managed to get myself up and dressed for the opera. The bus ride was a bit brutal, for sure. At one point we were stopped at a light and someone was literally jackhammering on the sidewalk. Jackie groaned, "I feel like they're doing it to me on purpose."
So we got lunch, and met up with others, and headed to the opera house. Tannhauser was good, even if the male lead left something to be desired in the acting department. Observations: in the party scene, all the Korean extras came in with their cell phones and started taking selfies. Non-iron applause feels disorganized, insincere, and just generally wrong. What does the pink paper mean?! Then it was time for dinner and catching the train home.
The train ride home started innocently enough. I was sitting, happily reading articles on motivation theory, when I realized that my seat partner had changed. In place of the old lady that had gotten off at the last stop, there was now an old man. Staring at me and rubbing himself, breathing on my neck. I did what I always do, and blatantly took a picture of him with my phone. He was undeterred, so I got up and changed cars. He followed me, and again when I changed cars a second time. I was contemplating just locking myself in the bathroom when I found the dining car, where I could successfully hide myself in a group of families with children, and he wandered off. This all happened on the totally crowded, well-lit train!
And then I got really livid. Because, seriously, how is this an okay thing?! How is it possible for the actions of one individual to so quickly and totally steal away all the feelings of happiness and connectedness that I was feeling, and leave me scared and alone? Why do we still live in a world where women have to be constantly aware? Because that's the thing that men don't understand. It's not that women live our lives afraid or worried or scared. It's just that we have to live them aware. Aware of our surroundings, aware of the looks that rest on us, aware of the length of our skirts and the grabability of our hair. And it's bullshit.
I caught a taxi home, arms and legs shaking with impotent rage, and Tiff made sure I was ok. Sure, I said. It's happened before, I said. At least he didn't touch me, I said. How sad is it that that is the standard? He violated my privacy, personal space, and sense of security. He violated my personhood, turning me into an object to be used for his needs. But at least he didn't touch me. How sad is it that so many women just nod, because they've lived this countless times, too?
Well that sucks! Just an idiot....forget about him bur keep an eye out all the time LL.
ReplyDeleteYou are so smart and able. You got this!
love you, Dad xoxxo