Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Cairo, the 24th May, 2011





"A Cairo stalker s classic"





Being stalked by despaired men in Cairo is as common for any woman as listening to the also classic "Welcome to Cairo" throwed at tourists with the funny, generous smiles egyptians carry so well.





Sexual harassment is a circular and recurrent theme of this blog simply because it reflects the truth about my life in Cairo. As a woman, as a foreigner, as a DANCER, as a FREE individual who chooses to express herself as she pleases and go wherever she wishes to, this kind of experience is just as present in my daily life as a morning teeth brushing.





Yet there are many kinds of stalkers around:


The ones who choose to spend their time calling women with sexual remarks and silly, empty, childish conversation attempts.


The ones who just say dirty things to women as they pass by in any public place.


The ones with money who stalk DANCERS - no kidding!- in the most dangerous, sneaky, evil and harmful way.


The ones who will actually grop women s bodies in public places.


The ones who will stalk women by car, following them until she agrees to get into the car or get a police man who will, most commonly, also harass her.





The ones who will stop their cars, park them and run after women trying to pick them up as they walk along the streets of Cairo.


From all the wonderfully disgusting array of Cairo sexual harassers, the ones I get more often are the professional ones - surrounding my work - the "dirty words" whisperers in the street and the stalkers who park their cars and walk by my side proclaiming their infinite love at first sight and inquiring me about the knowledge I may have of my own beauty (how much cheasier can this get???!!!)...





Here s an instant classic freshly baked from the Cairo pervert s woven (just happened last night):





After a friend of mine dropped me at home, I felt an urge to go down to the gasoline station near from my home to get a few bottles of ice tea (yes! Summer has finally arrived to our beloved Cairo!) and cookies.


Innocent task. Innocent enough.





As I was paying my goodies, I noticed a pair of good looking guys staring at me as if I was the reincarnation of Marylin Monroe (another common treat around here) and, fast in my intuition, I could preview the movie that would follow ("these guys are going to follow me...I just know it!", I thought to myself).





As I left the shop of the station, one of them followed me immediately and tried to start conversation but I, suddenly, changed the direction of my steps and he got disoriented and almost fell on the floor ("I wish!").





I started walking really fast towards my home and felt someone was running after me.


- Mademoiselle! - Mr. Creep bursted at me.


- Can I talk to you? - He insisted, even when I ignored him and continued walking.


-No, you can t. - I finally answered, without looking him at the face.


-Do you know how beautiful you are? - He persisted.


- Yes, I know. - I answered, with indifference.


-Can I know you? Invite you for a drink, for dinner, anything? I just want to know you better. Is it possible? - He shot at me in a hurry, seeing how I was sprinting and still refusing to look at him.


-No, you can t. - I said to him, dryly and starting to loose my already short patience.


- Can I speak with you?


-No.


-Can I take your phone number?


-No.


-Can you look at me?


-No.


-Am I bothering you (duhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...........)?


- YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! - I yelled at him, ready to put down my grocery bags and punch him on the face as I had to do on many other occasions.



He finally quit walking along with me but allowed himself to sink even lower by persisting on the pleading about going out with him until I disappeared from his visual horizon.
Now...again and again...I stress an essential point over here: What kind of MAN who is worth being called as such would put himself in such a deep shit in order to pick up a stranger from the street?!

Yeah, yeah...we all know about women in the Middle East being, generally, treated as meat for instant consumption and male pleasure.
We all know - and some of us feel it on their own skins - about Women s rights or the absence of them.
We all know about women being chosen by the male buyers as cheap cattle and yet, the more I observe men s behaviour in Egypt (Middle East included here), my pity and misericordy goes to THEM.
I ended up seeing the predators as the victims because it is so damned shameful the place where they insist on putting themselves, like hungry, desperate dogs in search of a mate.
Very SAD, dear gentlemen.
What about a little, just a little, self respect?

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