Imagine a beautiful ocean right infront of you. The sand, the beautiful mini forest at the back end of the beach, seashells, the little crabs that you don't see unless you are five inches away from it, a beautifully painted canoe ready to go adventure this beautiful mass of water.
Do you have that image? Ok good, now add some cows just walking across the beach and then some men wearing only speedos.
Add on top of that 18 women all in either baggy shirts and floor length skirts OR in traditional daily India clothing. This was a sight that in America, would be a possibly great episode of a comedic tv series.
THIS was my 4th of July celebration.
I'm usually a strong swimmer. The only difference is that in America, I can wear a bathing suit (as skin clinging as they are), some shorts, and just jump in! When you're in a skirt (that had a ripped hole within the first five minutes at the beach AND should be a dress), with a strong current, and the waves that normally happen at the beach, things happen.
For me; my skirt/dress fell off in the water (try putting it back on IN the water because leaving the water without it would be offensive), choked on salt water because resufracing after a short victory flip of the color game, AND I almost drowned (due to not being able to be strong enough to tred water in my outfit).
The icing on the cake for reversed Indian culture.
Boys can grab my boobs, pinch my arm, rest their hand on my lower back, and near wrestle me to the gorund and that is pefectly ok. Men can mock my whole team in a language that we don't understand, stroke my leg wear skirts and shorts, pee off the side of the street, and that is perfectly ok. (Also, all of this has hapened to me while here).
We can't look a man in the eyes and smile without having the assumption of flirting at a deperate level here. I can not show my knees, shoulders, or ankles here unless I want to be considered basically naked. If we want to wear pants, we need a shirt long enough to cover our crotch. In the rare event that our sari falls off in public, it's as terrible as going naked in public. This is all ok.
And it really shouldn't.
Every time I take the front seat of a tuk tuk, or am wondering the strees here, I am worrysome that I am making a bad statement that will crush the effectiveness of the ministry that we are working with here. When my skirt blows in the wind, when I'm walking around the beach with a ripped dress/skirt, even when my skit accidentally rips in public, OR when I'm sitting on the ground, I ALWAYS have to be conscious of how my body is representing itself.
Part of me wants to come back and fix the problem of women oppression. Part of me wonders how one person can make a difference back here. Part of me misses America so much because even with all the jokes that make me want to smack people, I know that there is so much more liberity that women have there.
Which means that I will be wearing shorts at my next job once I arrive in America. All Day. Every Day.
