la fin de la semaine
In spite of all of the recent chaos, I feel more secure than ever about being away from home and living in Mauritius.
Although there are many reasons for this newfound reassurance, prominent among them are my friends and family. Foremost, since going public about my attack, I have received a tremendous outpouring of concern from folks back home. To all of you who got in touch this past week, read my blog or just listened, thanks so much for being there... I can't express how much you mean to me, or how much your support matters.
Also heartening are the responses of my Mauritian friends, who have truly been amazing. Since Tuesday, I have been treated to bouquets of flowers, chocolate bars, telephone calls and impromptu visits. My Mauritian colleagues have also mobilized around the issue of my personal safety. When I notified the U.S. Embassy of what transpired, two consulars immediately came to check up on me, and they also accompanied me to the police station to make a statement. Similarly, when I informed my host NGO about what happened, they began compiling a list of trustworthy taxi drivers I can call in the evenings.
Since Tuesday, my Mauritian friends have also give me several tutorials on personal self defense, which have been at the very least wholly entertaining. Among other things, I have been advised to carry switchblades, screw drivers, metal pipes, and aerosol cans, and been given demonstrations on how to kick men in the groin (incidentally, this is the first piece of advice that my male friends volunteer), snap wrists, and break people's noses with my forehead. While some of these suggestions are more recommended than others, one thing is certain: my Mauritian friends are incredibly resourceful.
One particularly inventive Mauritian family has even offered to stakeout my neighborhood deliver my assailant to the police if he passes by. The way the plan has been described to me (stock the car with fast food and movies, plant a male friend in a skirt on the road as a decoy), it sounds like vigilante justice meets drag show meets pizza party, adding up to a grand ol' time.
While this and other responses to my attack have been pretty spirited, they give me a compelling reason why i should stay on for the rest of my grant: namely, Ile Maurice counts among its inhabitants lots and lots of kind, thoughtful and generous people. However, as it turns out, nice Mauritians simply aren't the people who loiter the streets at night.
Which brings me to my next point: based on last week's experience, I have resolved to stop walking alone after sunset (read 6pm) as had been my custom because of Tae Kwon Do, French class, and research. Although it pains me to surrender my rights of travel and transit, I think doing so will make me much safer. Daytime street harassment does not carry the same threat of violence as nighttime harassment. During the day there are eyes on the street, and that enforces a certain type of order... what Foucault's Discipline and punish terms "the panopticon."
Given that I want to be here and am planing on staying, I guess my challenge is to devise creative means to beat immobility. One possibility is taking taxis daily.. However, I've also been thinking about acquiring my own motor vehicle... anything from a vespa to a mini cooper would do (Oh what fun!). Alas, here's to looking on the bright side...
Labels: women's issues
