I haven't written in awhile. Mostly this is because I didn't want my students to find new writing, but seeing as they have found my blog anyway (finally), I figured it wouldn't hurt.
Spring has sprung in Cairo. Or rather summer as spring decided not to make an appearance this year. The flowers are blooming, sandstorms blowing, birds chirping, harasser's eyes wandering...Yes, this is the time I dread each year I've lived in Cairo: the weather becoming warm enough that I can no longer wear my loose and figure hiding jackets in the street.
Yesterday was the first day I walked to the bus with my arms uncovered. It must be my mother's Russian blood in me, but I simply cannot tolerate the heat. I sweat when it is barely luke-warm outside. So no, I'm not going to wear a jacket, even a light one, when it is 90 degrees Farenheit.
Perhaps you are asking - but why do you feel uncomfortable walking around without something covering you? In one word (okay, fine two words): sexual harassment.
A few weeks later.
While walking to my bustop down the road, a group of young schoolboys accosted me. As I walked past them, they stopped their conversation and I could feel their eyes looking me up and down. Instead of moving aside to let me pass, two of the boys stood resolutely in front of me, staring. I could feel their words "hot chick," "beautiful," "cream" prick my skin like mosquitos drawing blood. Just as annoying, and leaving marks to make my skin crawl days later.
On the same walk, a man on a motorcyle yelled something that roughly translates to "oh yeaaaaaah" as he zoomed by.
After four years of living in Cairo, I have developed a super power: feeling a man's eyes.
I can walk down the street with my music blasting and intuitively know that someone's eyes are boring into my backside. I can walk past a man and know that his head is turning. I can feel their eyes caressing, feeling, touching.
This may sound narcissistic, but don't imagine that the streets of Cairo are a catwalk or red carpet. Instead, oftentimes it feels like a circus where you're the freak that everyone is staring and pointing at.
So my message to these creeps that line Cairo's streets like sentries? Keep your eyes to yourself.
Spring has sprung in Cairo. Or rather summer as spring decided not to make an appearance this year. The flowers are blooming, sandstorms blowing, birds chirping, harasser's eyes wandering...Yes, this is the time I dread each year I've lived in Cairo: the weather becoming warm enough that I can no longer wear my loose and figure hiding jackets in the street.
Yesterday was the first day I walked to the bus with my arms uncovered. It must be my mother's Russian blood in me, but I simply cannot tolerate the heat. I sweat when it is barely luke-warm outside. So no, I'm not going to wear a jacket, even a light one, when it is 90 degrees Farenheit.
Perhaps you are asking - but why do you feel uncomfortable walking around without something covering you? In one word (okay, fine two words): sexual harassment.
A few weeks later.
While walking to my bustop down the road, a group of young schoolboys accosted me. As I walked past them, they stopped their conversation and I could feel their eyes looking me up and down. Instead of moving aside to let me pass, two of the boys stood resolutely in front of me, staring. I could feel their words "hot chick," "beautiful," "cream" prick my skin like mosquitos drawing blood. Just as annoying, and leaving marks to make my skin crawl days later.
On the same walk, a man on a motorcyle yelled something that roughly translates to "oh yeaaaaaah" as he zoomed by.
After four years of living in Cairo, I have developed a super power: feeling a man's eyes.
I can walk down the street with my music blasting and intuitively know that someone's eyes are boring into my backside. I can walk past a man and know that his head is turning. I can feel their eyes caressing, feeling, touching.
This may sound narcissistic, but don't imagine that the streets of Cairo are a catwalk or red carpet. Instead, oftentimes it feels like a circus where you're the freak that everyone is staring and pointing at.
So my message to these creeps that line Cairo's streets like sentries? Keep your eyes to yourself.
