Frumpy: the word has a negative, stuffy connotation. If you're frumpy, you're not sexy, or cute, stylish or sophisticated. Rather, you have the fashion sense of your grandmother and are clearly boring. But how can you tell so much about a person from just the way that they dress? It reveals more, I think, about how our society has trained women to place their self-worth in their image. We think a person can be judged from how big their boobs are, how sexy their ass is, how flat their stomach is and how toned their legs are. But not one person's true value or worth is determined by any physical, though we've trained ourselves to believe that.
Women feel insecure if they don't have some man's attention, and attention from men primarly comes from a physical appreciation of a woman. Certainly, their attention can grow into a deeper attraction, and they might enjoy spending time with that woman and getting to know her. But the primary initial attraction is physical.
However, in a culture like Sri Lanka, it's much more difficult to judge a woman by the shapeliness of her body, because much of it is covered up or indistinctive. Speaking from a personal standpoint, I realized I could focus more on being who I was, my personality, my friendliness and openness than having to spend the majority of my time worrying about how I look! It's amazing. I understand burkas now. They really make a lot of sense. However, my point still stands about having men dress conservatively too.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Sexuality
I wonder how much of this talk of ultra-conservatism and sexuality hyper-awareness is being created, and how much is reality. Rosemary talked to us about dressing more conservatively than the girls on campus do. Most of them wear short sleeves (practically tank tops; they're shorter than a babydoll cut) and skirts that flirt with their knees. Then she talked about not giving out your phone number or your address (makes sense), and maybe giving out your email. Unfortunately, I think a lot of the talk ended up having a negative impact on some of us when we met with the university students. Some of them felt like their personal space was being invaded because the students would lean in or talk at a close distance. One girl was even hesitant about giving out her email address. While certainly a lot of personal information can be found out through purely an email, it seemed like they were almost afraid of being sexually harassed just because a Sri Lankan boy knew how to write them an electronic letter. One of the girls even said, "Yeah, just give them your email but you don't have to write them back." What an indication of detachment! These students were real people, who, I would imagine, were merely in awe of interacting with Americans--something that doesn't happen regularly for them, if ever at all before meeting us for some of them, I'm sure. To blatantly ignore an attempt at communication and friendship seems... ignorant? sad? arrogant? All of the above perhaps.
Another girl seemed intensely confused by our interactions with the university students. From her comments, it seemed like she had expected the males to only be interested in having sex with her, not with wanting to talk to her or find out about her. Weren't they supposed to like just sexually harass her? Instead they asked her about her studies, where she was from, and what she was interested in. It appeared, she noted surprisingly, that they just wanted to be friends.
It seems like the only thing that we've talked about so far is being hyper-aware that we're female and we have vaginas and all men want to do is stare at us and anything they say to us is a proposition for sex. Sure, we get a lot of stares, but even dressed conservatively and completely and utterly non-provocatively (even by local standards) we get a lot of stares. We clearly stick out like sore thumbs, even if we were to cover ourselves from head to toe and leave all to the imagination. We look different, we act differently, we walk and talk and interact differently--of course we're going to get stared at. And I don't think there's any shame in blatantly staring here either. They don't try to hide the fact, which makes it looks worse to us. If we "catch" someone staring at us and they quickly look away, we're flattered. If we find someone gawking, we call them a pervert and walk away in a huff.
 |
| Dressed like this, it's no wonder people stare. Rosemary made me wear her pants after seeing that I was, once again, wearing those damn three-quarter trousers. |
It seems like the only thing that we've talked about so far is being hyper-aware that we're female and we have vaginas and all men want to do is stare at us and anything they say to us is a proposition for sex. Sure, we get a lot of stares, but even dressed conservatively and completely and utterly non-provocatively (even by local standards) we get a lot of stares. We clearly stick out like sore thumbs, even if we were to cover ourselves from head to toe and leave all to the imagination. We look different, we act differently, we walk and talk and interact differently--of course we're going to get stared at. And I don't think there's any shame in blatantly staring here either. They don't try to hide the fact, which makes it looks worse to us. If we "catch" someone staring at us and they quickly look away, we're flattered. If we find someone gawking, we call them a pervert and walk away in a huff.
Leave it to the imagination
I've been in non-Western clothing for 6 hours, and I'm actually kind of liking it. For awhile before I left, I entertained the notion that I would come back and only want to wear "traditional" Sri Lankan clothing. I could parade around Whittier in sarongs and saris, attract a lot of attention and questions, and be all the better for it. While it's probably too soon to tell, I don't really see that happening any more.
I was going to say that the clothing is uncomfortable, but that's just my jeans (which are too tight). The shirt that Lily let me borrow is loose and comfortable, and the leggings that I see her wear all the time look comfortable too. I wish I could wear my yoga pants with the shirt, but they're not full-length, so that won't be happening.
Rosemary told us that while we're on campus we should wear sleeves past our elbows, skirts past our knees, or full-length pants. If they're tight pants, our top should go to our thighs, or they should be loose pants. Kelsi seemed the least prepared for such restrictions--she was walking around the neighborhood in shorts yesterday.
Is it up to women to cover up parts of their bodies that excite men? Is that placing the blame or fault of mens' desires on women? What about men who wear clothes who fit well, like shapely jeans and a close-fitting polo? I've admired my share of Sri Lankan men, and in comparison to Sri Lankan women, a lot of them dress more provacatively. If the situation were quid pro quo, should the men as well dress in loose clothing, that cover their muscles and leave their packages to the imagination? Are they deliberately showing off? Do women deliberately show off?
I think in America, we get used to women showing off so much that we don't think of it as showing off any more. Wearing tight pants that show a woman's curves has become so normative that it's as commonplace as seeing a woman's nose. It's not provocative to us any more. But in a country like Sri Lanka, wearing tight pants is incredibly provocative. I was lying on the grass in front of the ISLE Center, wearing my yoga pants and a t-shirt, reading. At one point, I looked around, and saw three men standing some ways away from the driveway gate, clearly staring and talking about me. I wasn't sure how to feel, so I sat up into a cross-legged position. When I looked back, they were gone. Was their attention my fault because I was wearing tight pants? Or their fault, for having such desires?
Desire is the human condition. The immam at the mosque told us this yesterday. But the more conscious we are of god, the better our spriritual condition is. That is why they fast during Ramadan--to control our human desire for food, and become closer to god. Desire for food is unlike our other desires: the longer we ignore it, the more conscious we are of it. Sexual desire can be suppressed, as can other desires. That's why during Ramadan, they deny their desire for food. But I'm not super clear on the connection between it being the only one we can't ignore and why that makes it a good choice for becoming closer to god.
I was going to say that the clothing is uncomfortable, but that's just my jeans (which are too tight). The shirt that Lily let me borrow is loose and comfortable, and the leggings that I see her wear all the time look comfortable too. I wish I could wear my yoga pants with the shirt, but they're not full-length, so that won't be happening.
Rosemary told us that while we're on campus we should wear sleeves past our elbows, skirts past our knees, or full-length pants. If they're tight pants, our top should go to our thighs, or they should be loose pants. Kelsi seemed the least prepared for such restrictions--she was walking around the neighborhood in shorts yesterday.
Is it up to women to cover up parts of their bodies that excite men? Is that placing the blame or fault of mens' desires on women? What about men who wear clothes who fit well, like shapely jeans and a close-fitting polo? I've admired my share of Sri Lankan men, and in comparison to Sri Lankan women, a lot of them dress more provacatively. If the situation were quid pro quo, should the men as well dress in loose clothing, that cover their muscles and leave their packages to the imagination? Are they deliberately showing off? Do women deliberately show off?
I think in America, we get used to women showing off so much that we don't think of it as showing off any more. Wearing tight pants that show a woman's curves has become so normative that it's as commonplace as seeing a woman's nose. It's not provocative to us any more. But in a country like Sri Lanka, wearing tight pants is incredibly provocative. I was lying on the grass in front of the ISLE Center, wearing my yoga pants and a t-shirt, reading. At one point, I looked around, and saw three men standing some ways away from the driveway gate, clearly staring and talking about me. I wasn't sure how to feel, so I sat up into a cross-legged position. When I looked back, they were gone. Was their attention my fault because I was wearing tight pants? Or their fault, for having such desires?
Desire is the human condition. The immam at the mosque told us this yesterday. But the more conscious we are of god, the better our spriritual condition is. That is why they fast during Ramadan--to control our human desire for food, and become closer to god. Desire for food is unlike our other desires: the longer we ignore it, the more conscious we are of it. Sexual desire can be suppressed, as can other desires. That's why during Ramadan, they deny their desire for food. But I'm not super clear on the connection between it being the only one we can't ignore and why that makes it a good choice for becoming closer to god.
Monday, August 29, 2011
Palm trees with real coconuts
Finally arrived in Sri Lanka at 2 am local time, after thirty-one hours of flights and layovers. The currency exchange guys smiled at us a lot.
The "prestigious" airport advertising was bent on convincing us that mobile carrier Dialog would provide a "better Blackberry experience."
Emma didn't realize that she was supposed to tip the lady who gave her some toilet paper to dry her hands with. Awkward and sad situation.
I was trying to figure out what sorts of clothes the women wear here, and it seemed that there were so many more men than women.
Driving out of the airport in our two vans, we passed a lot of men and women in uniform, fully armed. We have the AC going on blast and the windows pulled back, but it's still hot, humid and sticky. It's too dark to see much past the illumination of the van's headlights, but there's a stark mix of thatched, roadside stands and neon-illuminated "Euro Star" hotels. We drive on the left side and "give way," vestiges of British influence. They also pass on the other side of the road with great abandon--we've already had a couple of close calls, even at 3 am in the morning.
The shop fronts remind me of local streets in Japan: small entryways, crowded together with more store signs than doors. Colombo reminds me of Japan in a lot of ways, so far. Small cars, humid nights; the constant chirping buzz of cicadas, crickets and frogs. Now that we're away from the exhaust-laden air of the terminal, breathing is easy and refreshing.
The "prestigious" airport advertising was bent on convincing us that mobile carrier Dialog would provide a "better Blackberry experience."
Emma didn't realize that she was supposed to tip the lady who gave her some toilet paper to dry her hands with. Awkward and sad situation.
I was trying to figure out what sorts of clothes the women wear here, and it seemed that there were so many more men than women.
Driving out of the airport in our two vans, we passed a lot of men and women in uniform, fully armed. We have the AC going on blast and the windows pulled back, but it's still hot, humid and sticky. It's too dark to see much past the illumination of the van's headlights, but there's a stark mix of thatched, roadside stands and neon-illuminated "Euro Star" hotels. We drive on the left side and "give way," vestiges of British influence. They also pass on the other side of the road with great abandon--we've already had a couple of close calls, even at 3 am in the morning.
The shop fronts remind me of local streets in Japan: small entryways, crowded together with more store signs than doors. Colombo reminds me of Japan in a lot of ways, so far. Small cars, humid nights; the constant chirping buzz of cicadas, crickets and frogs. Now that we're away from the exhaust-laden air of the terminal, breathing is easy and refreshing.
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