violence has it's place in every life
every circumstance
whether it merely be the escalation of the wrong conversation
or a competition to determine a victor,
it exists, persists, pervades
I have to say, I have never had greater appreciation for the American legal system than when I was manhandled in Cairo.
It was Spring Break. One of the trip leaders had a local friend, who joined us on our many cultural visits. He was incredibly knowledgeable about the area and acted as our guide(since we had to fire the last guy who tried taking us to "The Pharonic Village", an amusement park for kindergarteners). He didn't really appreciate the crowd that many of us drew, but what was to be expected when you have a couple blonde girls and an asian chick running around?
Nevertheless, he was an asset to the group; suggesting wonderful places for us to eat, explore, and...eat. He had some contempt for me and another girl in particular, for we had difficulty saying no to the local boys who harassed us for pictures, and wouldn't pretend we had husbands every time someone tried chatting us up. I managed to develop a rapport with him despite this, and I eventually started playing by his rules. He called me "Britney Spears" and made light, flirty jokes at my expense.
This continued over the course of the trip, until our last night. Our trip leaders decided that we should hold up in a 24 hour mall, due to the fact that we had to stay up all night and fly out at 4am.
This, of course, was less than desirable to many of us, particularly those from the land of the malls(ie new jersey, ie me). We gathered a group of less-complacent and asked the local friend if he would take us to a place we hadn't explored yet. He acquiesced, and we then proceeded to badger our leaders into letting us escape the mall-prison.
With the go-ahead, a few brave souls followed the local to the parking lot to find his car. We crammed into the front/back seats and set off to an area he promised would entertain us. It was an area clearly meant to satisfy the tastes of the more affluent Egyptians, a sharp contrast to the ragged, dirty city life we had been exposed to. There were many lovely shops for us to explore - chocolates, ice cream, jewelry - a girl's paradise. I was still on hot pursuit for cheapish souvenirs, and he vowed to help me find a place.
While walking down towards another stretch of shops, we began with what I believed to be friendly conversation. After much teasing banter, I felt that he had given a green light for some mocking at his expense. So, I made a few jabs about his "guide" expertise.
He did not appreciate that.
He utilized the close proximity of our walking and grabbed the back of my neck in a tight grip. He did not relinquish his grasp, so I lightly batted him on the arm with my water bottle saying "hey! not cool", trying to play along with what I assumed was some sort of game.
He let go.
Me: "Bitch."
I had forgotten my place. He made sure to correct this immediately. He proceeded to grab my arm and bend it as far back as anatomically possible. I was still operating under the illusion that this was some sort of "playing around" that I was simply unfamiliar with(or perhaps a good game of "uncle" from back in the day). But then it started to ...hurt. Really hurt.
"Hey! that hurts." (nervous laugh.)
"Does it? It should."
This made me slightly alarmed, though I was still tying to keep the mood less-than-serious(if it escalated I had no idea what he would be capable of).
"Hey, uh, can you stop?"
He waited a few more seconds, a menacing look in his eyes.
"Watch your tongue."
With that, he let go of my throbbing arm, and I hurried over to the other girls in the group, who were several feet away looking into a shop window.
The entire time all I wanted to do was either:
a. punch him in the face(I have a solid right hook)
b. shout obscenities(cursing his mother or future descendants maybe?)
c. report him to some authority
d. sue him for battery
e. some combination of which to make him cry
In America, I could have freely engaged in any of those actions(except for perhaps the first one...eh). However, I was in Egypt, a place where it is apparently "okay" to abuse a person, as long as they are 1. female 2. weaker 3. some combination of the two. In this land I do not have a protector. There was no husband, older brother, father, to run to; to avenge the disrespect I had just encountered. Further, none of the male members of the group had gone with us on the excursion - shopping around did not seem to pique their interest. On top of the fact that I was currently in the Arab world, a place less-than-hospitable to "feisty" or "spirited" women such as myself, I was in place where I did not know the language or the lay of the land. The local was also the only one who actually knew where we were, and provided the only means to get back to the main group: his car. So I knew damn well that I better put on a smile and take it, because, for the first time in my life, I was truly powerless.
So I just choked back the tears of a wounded pride and arm, and continued window-shopping.
What amazed me was how this individual carried on as if our little interaction was nothing out of the ordinary - as if he had just asked me about the weather or something. Unlike before, when we usually ended up walking next to eachother since I was deeply interested in hearing about the history of the neighborhood we were in, I avidly maintained a 10ft distance from him when possible. In one of the more cramped shops, he was only an arm's length apart; I became so uncomfortable I had to leave the store and wait outside. He behaved as though repentant; he bought almonds and offered me some, he took us by shops he thought I would like and bade me to go inside and "take a look". I was as dismissive as possible without appearing too upset or angry - I was desperate to not provoke him again. All I wanted was to get back to the group, hide amongst the crowd, and wait out the time till takeoff without having to look at the bastard again.
"Does it? It should."
This made me slightly alarmed, though I was still tying to keep the mood less-than-serious(if it escalated I had no idea what he would be capable of).
"Hey, uh, can you stop?"
He waited a few more seconds, a menacing look in his eyes.
"Watch your tongue."
With that, he let go of my throbbing arm, and I hurried over to the other girls in the group, who were several feet away looking into a shop window.
The entire time all I wanted to do was either:
a. punch him in the face(I have a solid right hook)
b. shout obscenities(cursing his mother or future descendants maybe?)
c. report him to some authority
d. sue him for battery
e. some combination of which to make him cry
In America, I could have freely engaged in any of those actions(except for perhaps the first one...eh). However, I was in Egypt, a place where it is apparently "okay" to abuse a person, as long as they are 1. female 2. weaker 3. some combination of the two. In this land I do not have a protector. There was no husband, older brother, father, to run to; to avenge the disrespect I had just encountered. Further, none of the male members of the group had gone with us on the excursion - shopping around did not seem to pique their interest. On top of the fact that I was currently in the Arab world, a place less-than-hospitable to "feisty" or "spirited" women such as myself, I was in place where I did not know the language or the lay of the land. The local was also the only one who actually knew where we were, and provided the only means to get back to the main group: his car. So I knew damn well that I better put on a smile and take it, because, for the first time in my life, I was truly powerless.
So I just choked back the tears of a wounded pride and arm, and continued window-shopping.
What amazed me was how this individual carried on as if our little interaction was nothing out of the ordinary - as if he had just asked me about the weather or something. Unlike before, when we usually ended up walking next to eachother since I was deeply interested in hearing about the history of the neighborhood we were in, I avidly maintained a 10ft distance from him when possible. In one of the more cramped shops, he was only an arm's length apart; I became so uncomfortable I had to leave the store and wait outside. He behaved as though repentant; he bought almonds and offered me some, he took us by shops he thought I would like and bade me to go inside and "take a look". I was as dismissive as possible without appearing too upset or angry - I was desperate to not provoke him again. All I wanted was to get back to the group, hide amongst the crowd, and wait out the time till takeoff without having to look at the bastard again.
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