It has little to do with the garbage piled up on the streets. It has nothing to do with the litter and the dog shit that I consciously avoid on the sidewalks. It is not because this city is polluted, or dusty, or dirty. It's because it is filled with street pigs who make me feel dirty.
You see, I'm victimized because of the way I was born. Because I have the audacity to walk through the city streets with my calves, my thighs, my butt, my back, my breasts, my arms, my neck, my face, my hair- all the things that come with the biological package for a human being of the female sex. All those things that have existed since Eve- since we were created. And yet, for some reason when I go out, it's as if I were the first woman to ever walk the earth. Somehow it is still shocking that I exist.
My walk to work is a mere 15 minutes through my fantastic, super expensive, expat-filled neighborhood. But no matter how gorgeous the apartments or how rich the residents are, the streets are like all other streets in Cairo: filthy. As I walk with my headphones blasting, I try to ignore the stares and comments from the street pigs. The poor, ignorant, classless men that litter the streets. They service this neighborhood: the bawabs, the delivery boys, the parking attendants, the shop keepers. They ruin life for women in Cairo. They fuck the shit out of me with their eyes, and follow me as I walk past, muttering hisses and kisses, and praises for my beauty. If they meet me through a narrow passage, they take the opportunity to squeeze through with me, to brush up against me. Rub up against my breast, my butt, my arm, whatever they can get. They take whatever piece they can get.
I always imagine that when I'd find myself in these situations, I'd be so enraged with fury that I would attack them: yell, scream, punch, kick. But instead, what happens is that I am so humiliated, I just run away. I retreat silently, feeling so unjustly violated, and wanting to avoid any negative attention being brought to myself. I just scream inside my head, repeating over and over again, "How dare he?"
For those 15 minutes a day, I've undone the shower, the deodorant, the perfume, the makeup. I've become filthy again, having been raped on my way to work. Every.Single.Day. No matter how thoroughly I scrub myself, or whether I'm wearing Chanel or Chloe perfume. No matter if I use organic deodorant, or the regular stuff, it never seems to remove the filth that I encounter on the streets. I am disgusted. If only these street pigs could be eliminated with the swine flu. I think Egypt slaughtered the wrong ones when that outbreak occurred years ago.
Harassment is not a new thing in Egypt. It is a sick and pathetic part of society that hasn't changed for as long as I can remember. Instead of changing society, women have learned to cope by avoiding the streets. Living their lives from one climate controlled environment to the next. But I refuse to do that. I refuse to let classless, ignorant animals dictate how to live my life, it goes against everything I ever taught myself. I will not hide and spend my life indoors. I will not sacrifice my life for these pigs.
I've had to modify my wardrobe and eliminate my skirts, dresses, and all my favorite things to wear. I've had to adopt a whole new style of dress (which is so sad and disappointing), for these street pigs. I've had to change what I love to wear, and avoid taking taxis, and be driven almost everywhere by my fiance. Yet it is still not enough. It is still not enough because I like to walk. I like to go outside; to exist outside my apartment. And why should that right be taken away from me? Why shouldn't I walk wherever I want? I did in NYC. I did in Paris.
I am not the problem. My clothes are not the problem. But I just can't seem to get the stench out.
