Modern Conveniences While Traveling

I am currently typing this blog entry from a bus somewhere between Newark, NJ and Washington DC. The bus has WiFi, which is awesome, although not totally necessary. 

For my trip to Washington DC for the next week, I have packed my laptop, nook, iPod, camera, and cell phone, along with all of their chargers. For some people, including me, this feels totally necessary. A cell phone is a must, really, but other than that, all of these electronics are not really needed. The camera is great to make memories, and show them to people, but I could always use my words. My laptop and iPod are just entertainment devices, although the laptop comes in handy to communicate thoughts, like right now. The nook (it's a Simple Touch) is basically just a bunch of books; it doesn't do anything fancy. 

There are so many people on the bus with their electronics: headphones plugged in, existing in their own little world. Are we that scared to make contact with another person? Are we that scared to be alone with our own thoughts?

Maybe I'm over-thinking this, but I'd estimate (conservatively) that you could go travel to about 75% of the countries on Earth, and be able to use/charge these items. There really is no more "roughing it," unless it is self-imposed. 

I'm hoping that when I eventually do get into/leave for the Peace Corps, when I get assigned to my site, it is pretty out of the way. Not in a romanticized way, but just because I would love to be able to experience life without all of these technologies, and I know that it would be hard for me, and I welcome the challenge. We'll see how that goes...

When I was in Tanzania for the two months I was there, I was laptop-less and it was glorious, in a really awesome, freeing way. Now, I'm constantly worried about missing an email or a facebook message and therefore missing something important. I feel so tied to technology. Does anybody else feel that way?

So these are just some thoughts on a bus at 9:30am, when I've only gotten about an hour of sleep. 

Rationalizing Violence

A few nights ago, I was at a pool party. Among the guests at this party were two Irish guys. As we were playing around in the water, they both got a little rough. I was poking fun at some of the Irish slang terms, when one of the guys lunged at me and started "play" choking me, except it didn't feel like he was kidding, and I was terrified for a split second. The other guy kept flipping me upside down and holding me in the water for a few seconds, which I also found completely terrifying.
Writing those instances out makes those events seem worse than what I can only assume both guys meant them to be, which is playful. I'm not going to hold this against them, because I never seriously said anything along the lines of "I don't like that, please don't do that," to them. There were a few playful "no, stop"s along the way, but I didn't want to say anything because I was afraid of ruining the atmosphere.

I like to put up this "front" that I am strong, and that I will stand up for myself, no matter what the social costs. To a certain extent, this is true, but when I am in an unfamiliar setting or I don't want to offend people, usually I will just keep quiet. This has the potential to result in dangerous situations.


When I am in an unfamiliar situation, I will more often than not err on the side of "not offending people" than on the side of "okay, that person needs to stop what they are doing, it is making me uncomfortable." When somebody says something to me that I find creepy or uncalled for, I will usually try to think of ways in which they didn't mean it that way, and convince myself I am being over sensitive. Honestly, I'm pretty hard on myself about this sometimes.

I rationalize the uncomfortable comments and the invasion of personal space, mostly because that is what I have internalized. Women have to be small, they don't take up space, and they just have to live with comments made to them, because they are being too sensitive. I'm trying not to make this into a full-on feminist rant; I'm trying to pull back from that and focus on this rationalization of violence and discomfort when traveling.

Sometimes, when we are in a different country, we have to follow the rules of the culture that is popular. For instance, when I was in Tanzania, we had to cover our knees. I'm fine with that. People proposing marriage? I'm cool with that, just don't get into my personal space. Dancing with me, even though I have repeatedly said no? Not okay, in the slightest. But how do you set up these boundaries when you aren't even fluent in the local language? When you aren't sure of the proper social etiquette? Why did I have to leave the dance floor to get away from a guy? I was minding my own business.

I read a post on Facebook (linked from Tumblr) from a young woman studying abroad in France about all of these men who had cat-called her and threatened violence against her, just because she was a woman. At what point do you stop saying "Oh, it's just the culture" and start saying "Oh, misogyny is rampant, I need to combat this the best that I can, and stick up for myself"? Does that line cross personal boundaries? Should we even have to be asking this question?

That's not to say that these things don't happen at home too, and with other Americans. For instance, a few months ago I was at a party when a guy who I didn't know sat squished next to me. Now, I had been sitting there, kind of in my own little world of thought. Well, as soon as he sat down, he put his arm around me and started playing with my hair. I was not okay with this, and asked him to stop, three times, but he didn't, so I slapped him, at which point he laughed and continued. So I punched him. And he laughed again. I ended up having to get up to move away from him, even though I had not been doing anything and he was the one in my space.

As I told this story to my friends, I was rationalizing his behavior: "Oh, he was drunk, he didn't know better." "Could it have been the length of my dress? It was pretty short." "Maybe he was just trying to be funny."

No. None of the above. And this is where I want to tie this in with my post about rape: this is why it took so long for me to even call it that. I was rationalizing. "I should not have let myself be alone with him." "He probably didn't hear me when I said no." "He probably didn't notice how scared I was; I did cover my face at one point." "He had been drinking."

No. No, no, no. None of these are valid excuses. None of these make sense. None of these should've occurred to me... I did not make the choice to rape myself, just as much as somebody who has been the victim of a stabbing made the choice to have the knife plunged into them.

Anybody who has been a victim of a (violent) crime should not have to sit there and rationalize through what happened to them. Yes, unfortunate things happen. Yes, sometimes unfortunate things happen while you are traveling. Being in a different country is not a good enough reason for a crime to have happened. This things happen everywhere.

We don't have to rationalize violence. We shouldn't.

I Want to Write, But I Have Nothing to Say

I want to update everybody, but I feel like I have nothing to say. I will probably add another entry or two having to do with my last post, and the response to it, but as of right now, I just feel stuck. I know that this is a recurring theme on my blog at this point, but it is true.

The sad thing is, I know myself. I know how I react to certain things. If I think I am going to be rejected from something, I will either not even try to get into it, or I will reject it before it has the chance to reject me. Granted, I have been working on this for a couple of years now, and have been more than willing to apply to places and programs that are not a sure thing, but now, I can feel myself pushing away from the Peace Corps.

On the one hand, I want this with every fiber of my being. I have wanted this for so long. But I can literally feel myself trying to emotionally distance myself from my dream of the Peace Corps. It's hard to explain, but I will try. I have these questions constantly running through my mind: Is this something that you really want? Can you handle this? What about the bugs/heat/cold/meat/etc? What about your political views? What about staying on the up and up with pop culture?

These are unnecessary questions. Of course I am more than willing to give up everything and move to a new place where I don't know anybody. I've done this before, numerous times. It's just that this process takes so long. So many hours of filling out applications and making appointments and sending emails and talking to people. Is it worth it? Of course.

It is worth every painful second, every stroke of impatience, every question that runs along my neurons. But it is still difficult. I often speak in terms of my rational mind and my emotional mind, because they are two vastly different creatures. In my rational mind, I know there is a reason that so much of this process is waiting and filling out paperwork and making sure that I am healthy. But my rational mind also wonders why I am putting a career on hold for this when there is so much other volunteering I could be doing. My emotional mind just wants to get out there and help people and is not satisfied with all of this waiting. My emotional mind is also terrified of being rejected and thinks maybe I should slink away from this quietly while I still have my dignity.

That last paragraph makes me sound slightly insane, but it is actually how I approach a lot of what I do in my life...

Like I said, I wanted to write but I have nothing new to say, really. I just want to document this torturous feeling for the future, so that if(when) I finally get my invitation, I can look back and be all "hindsight is 20/20, past Mary, no need to worry."

Have a great weekend!

I Was Raped In A Foreign Country

In my life, I have been raped twice. The first time, I was at school. That's not what this post is about. The second time it happened, I was in a different country...

Being a victim of rape sucks. There is absolutely no other way to say it, and I'm not going to try to appeal to a twisted sense of decency to say that it is anything but terrible, disgusting, and dehumanizing.

Being a victim a second time sucks twice as hard, because then you start to question yourself (moreso, if you didn't the first time). "Did I do something to cause this?" "Was it something I said or did or wore?" "Am I just looking at this the wrong way?"

Having this go down in a foreign country sucks even worse. "Did I say something that would culturally make him/her think s/he could act this way?" "Is this what normally happens?" "If I tell people, will they blame me for having traveled here?" "How do I report this, and to whom?" And the number one question: "Will they even believe me?"

Why am I writing this?
- Because I am following my own advice, the "if you have the capability to talk about something that happened to you, do it" advice from a few posts ago.
- Because the fact that I love to travel does not mean that I have always had good experiences.
- Because it happens a lot more often than anybody who is trying to get you to travel would like you to believe.
- Because the stories from Take Back the Night last year about women who studied abroad and were raped abroad pulled at my heartstrings. Also, the sheer number of women who said that it had happened to them makes me sick.
- Because study abroad packets don't prepare you for this shit.
- Because despite this, I still do what I love, and you can too. Healing takes time and everybody is on a different "schedule" of sorts.
- Because I do rape crisis counseling, and hearing even one story can inspire somebody to come forward with their own, because they don't feel so alone.

I am not writing this for attention. If you think so, you can get the f*ck off of my blog, because I don't want your twisted rationale messing up my writing space. 

I'm not going to get into specifics here, except to say that it was scary. At first, I didn't know what to call it. I didn't even actually call it "rape" until about a year after it happened, after a lot of processing of the situation. I didn't press charges, and, in fact, I didn't do anything. I'm pretty sure the guy has no idea what he did.

This is not to say that what he did is okay. It is the opposite of okay. It is appalling.

Rape is hardly discussed, even if you watch Law & Order: SVU or go to your school's Take Back the Night. And even when it is discussed, a lot of times myths abound: stranger rape, rape is about sex not power, don't go out at night, watch your drink, etc. It is almost never discussed in terms of traveling or studying abroad.

How many young women and men study abroad every year? Thousands upon thousands. When you take into account the percentage of people of each sex raped in their lifetime, there have to be more than a few rapes of US citizens that occur outside of the borders of the USA. How do we handle this? How do we help these people? Correct me if I am wrong, but I'm not aware of any campaign to help publicize rape crisis resources for those abroad.

I'm not sure what I wanted to accomplish with this post, other than to say that if this has happened to you, you are not alone. Feel free to email me, or leave an anonymous comment, or whatever. What happened is not your fault, and you shouldn't feel ashamed. Don't listen to people who tell you otherwise.