Responding to harassment from acquantainces and professional contacts while traveling

In previous posts, I've focused almost exclusively on interactions with strangers, ignoring the quite common form of harassment many women face while traveling in South Asia (and for that matter, wherever they are in the world): sexual harassment by acquaintances, colleagues, and professional contacts made while traveling. 

The risks of 'immersion'

When traveling in a place foreign to us, as I have discovered, it is easy for common sense to fly out the window. There are so many things around that can distract us from our senses and our intuition—our easiest means for judging whether or not we are at risk. And to an extent, as travelers we may want to be distracted. We may sincerely want to feel out of our element so that we can more deeply immerse ourselves in the foreign culture. Or, at least I do. This experience of immersion and distraction from our own views and presuppositions is one of the many reasons I love to travel and meet with new people.  

There is, however, a risk to this attempted immersion. Especially if we are uncertain of the cultural norms, it can be easy to become so 'immersed' that we may ignore the signals that our bodies tell us when something is wrong. We may misinterpret social cues as benign which would ordinarily register as being "red flags", signals that we should pay attention and increase our awareness. For this reason—and for many others which will be addressed below—setting boundaries for contacts you meet while abroad can be more challenging.

Many who attend our Empowerment Self Defense courses at Thousand Waves in Chicago report that they find boundary-setting more difficult when it is directed toward a friend, colleague, family member, or other intimate person. While many Americans in particular—especially those of us from the South or more rural Midwest—struggle with guilt over coming across as “rude” or “impolite” when conversing with strangers who violate boundaries, there is sometimes an even greater social pressure experienced when people we know push those same boundaries. Setting boundaries for colleagues, friends and loved ones can be more challenging for many people, even those quite adept at setting limits for complete strangers! 

I am one of those people. 

I was raised on the south-east coast of Virginia, a delightfully urban area only a 30-minute drive from the nearest rural areas in the state. I was taught to be polite, wave, and smile at strangers—which I still enjoy doing even in Chicago, to the annoyance of more than a few passersby! Quickly learning that smiling at strangers was far from the norm in India, I saved my smiles and friendliness for those I had a chance to converse with first. From living in Chicago, and eventually from traveling in India, I learned to set limits quickly and efficiently with strangers, both with my voice and body language. The same was not the case for acquaintances. 

When I was a beginning student of Tibetan and Hindi languages, I strove to practice these languages while traveling, by speaking in Tibetan/Hindi as appropriate with scholars, language tutors and other professional contacts, hotel workers, taxi and rickshaw drivers, and with anyone else I had the chance to meet. This practice created for me an incredible amount of opportunities to have meaningful conversations with a variety of persons across the spectrum of gender, ethnicity, caste, class, education, religion, etc. as I traveled throughout India.  This practice has served me well over the years as a grad student and researcher. I have met many incredible people in India, and forged life-long friendships with more than a few. I love traveling around South Asia and have no regrets about my choice to be open and friendly towards potential friends and colleagues while traveling. 

However, one of the most basic facts of Self Defense is that—no matter our gender, no matter our age—we are much more likely to encounter violence from someone we know than from a complete stranger. And just as gender-based violence from strangers often begins with smaller, and sometimes more subtle forms of violence (such as staring, catcalling, invasion of personal space) and escalates to larger forms (i.e. stalking, attempting groping on through groping, sexual assault, rape, battery, etc.), so does violence perpetrated by people we know.

For me, while I struggled daily with street harassment which threatened to wear me down emotionally on a regular basis, it was the persistence and prevalence of acquaintance-harassment which I found to be the more difficult challenge throughout my travels. 

While this kind of experience may be common knowledge among scholars trained in ethnography (or alternately for those with personal experience traveling and enduring harassment from contacts abroad), this experience is not commonly discussed among academic women outside of private conversations. This post, in part, aims to serve as a beginning attempt to discuss the obstacles female students and scholars face, which socially and perhaps professionally hinder us from addressing these issues.

When a conversation partner turns harasser... 

In one of my research sites, there was a local Tibetan man who worked at a restaurant attached to my guest house. I made it a habit of speaking in Tibetan while in Tibetan-run establishments and in Hindi while in North Indian-run establishments. I will call him Dorjee. 

Our relationship started out friendly and amicable. He would approach my table at the restaurant whenever I dropped by for tea, and strike up conversation, which I enjoyed. It was a relief for him to speak to a foreigner in Tibetan and a relief to me to have someone with whom to practice my Tibetan. Then, gradually his behaviors over the weeks started escalating. 

I was sitting in the restaurant one day. I had briefly chatted with Dorjee in Tibetan while ordering food. After finishing my meal, he returned to chat some more. He joked around with me verbally pretending to mishear me. I had called him “chok tsa po” (funny) which he pretended to mishear as “chu tsa po” (hot water) and so he proceeded jokingly to ask the kitchen for hot water. While his language was playful, something in his tone caught my attention and I began to feel uncomfortable. I played along with the joke anyway, and corrected him saying “No, chok tsa po.” After this exchange however, I started to find him considerably less funny.  

As I left the restaurant Dorjee asked me where I was heading. I answered succinctly in Tibetan “my room. ” He said “ok” and proceeded to follow me closely in a joking manner up the stairs from the restaurant  towards my room.  Confused, I asked him what he was doing. He replied "Going to your room." Realizing he was, in part, playing on a linguistic particularity of Tibetan (my first answer could have also been translated as "[we] are going to my room"), but wanting to set a boundary immediately,  I turned to face him and firmly said in Tibetan "I am going to my room. You are not going!"  He pretended to finally 'catch on' and  stopped following me.  I retreated to the safety of my room and promptly blocked out my reactions to Dorjee's behavior out of my mind. After all, I had more important things to worry about, like doing research for my dissertation!

More disturbing, however, was what happened half an hour later.  I was heading out to go to a coffee shop to do some work. I was on the phone with my partner so I was distracted. Dorjee grabbed my backpack from behind to slow me down and again in his joking manner asked where I’m going. Still not recognizing Dorjee's behavior as harassment, I answered honestly that I’m heading to a coffee shop to do some work. He continued to hold on to my backpack 'playfully'. It didn't feel very playful to me. I was so surprised that I forgot temporarily how to say “let go!” in Tibetan, so said it loudly and firmly in English. I switched to Tibetan and told him just as firmly that I needed to go and that I was on the phone. He then apologized and backed off.  I played it off in my mind as “just playing around” and “harmless” and explained it as such to my partner on the phone who had overheard only parts of the exchange. It wasn't until the next day that I recognized this collectively as aggressive, harassing, and controlling behavior.

A week or so later, on one cold day—a very cold day—I walked into the restaurant for some tea. Dorjee approached me asking me “Tsa po goe”? (Want something hot?) Forgetting the alternate meaning of tsa po in Tibetan (sexually hot or cold), I wasn’t sure what to make of this strangely phrased sentence. I decided to reply with my order of hot chai and momos. He took my order and then returned to my table and repeated the phrase “Tsa po goe”?  I knew at that point that he was trying to tease or play at something but it wasn’t until the third time that he repeated the phrase that I realized he was propositioning me. My initial reaction was embarrassment at the realization that a) I had just missed sexual innuendo in his first statement and b) he was saying something so sexually aggressive to me. Flushing with embarrassment, I made eye contact and glared at him solidly for about 5 seconds to indicate how I felt about his question, said something along the lines of “Not you! Go away” in Tibetan, and pretended to ignore him by burying myself in the book I had brought. Dorjee left me alone for the rest of the day.  I decided to avoid the restaurant after that day. 

I returned to the restaurant only one other time after that incident, about a month or so later. I had decided to move to a different guest house, but one night I had a craving for their pizza (it can be so hard to get good pizza in India), so I went to the restaurant. Seeing Dorjee there, I remained standing by the counter and placed my order to go. I pretended to be uninterested in conversing with him (which wasn't difficult at this point!). He asked why I wasn't sitting down. I politely but firmly replied (in Tibetan) that I'd rather eat in my room. He asked if I was staying at the place next door and I shook my head no, but refused to answer the implied question, again pretending to be uninterested in conversation. When the food was ready, I took it to my guest house room and ate alone in blessed silence, feeling relieved. 

So why did I hesitate to respond in these situations? Those who know me well have probably seen much more assertive (and possibly aggressive) responses from me when I feel my boundaries (or someone elses') are being violated. 

I have spent quite a lot of time thinking through these experiences, and others, recalling what I felt at the time, and in particular, what discouraged me from reacting. One challenge was that my mental energy was tied up, trying to communicate in Tibetan. I was so focused on the immersion experience, on trying to communicate that I lost touch with my body. For me, the process of foreign language immersion made it more difficult for me to be in touch with my body and instincts, which were telling me Dorje's behavior was aggressive. 

In the case of professional contacts while traveling (interviewees, language tutors, scholars, etc.), there is potentially the additional complication of wanting or needing something from that person. There may be some reason why we may feel we need to maintain that professional relationship despite the abusive behavior. Much like harassment experienced in the traditional workplace, we may feel uncomfortable responding to harassing behavior because we perceive the other as having power over us. Others simply fear cultivating a reputation in the workplace for appearing "rude" or "oversensitive."

There is a similar phenomena, I think, that occurs when traveling, especially for those interested in immersion experiences. It is easy to focus so much on showing "respect" for the culture we forget to protect ourselves. Assuming that the behaviors that make us uncomfortable are accepted in the foreign culture, we avoid speaking out, for fear of offense. 

It is easy to forget that just as every American in the moment is not necessarily expressing American cultural values (and may in fact be transgressing them!), the same goes for persons of every other culture. Harassment and violence may manifest differently in different cultures, but that doesn't mean they are accepted by the mainstream culture. South Asian women speak out daily against harassment, so why shouldn't I? Perhaps more importantly, if speaking out is what I feel I need to do to feel safe, then shouldn't I do that anyway, regardless of what I assume to be "culturally appropriate behavior"?   

Over the years I've learned to accept the risk of appearing "rude" towards someone who is violating my boundaries wherever in the world I am. But every once in a while, a new situation emerges—such as this one—where I am just distracted just enough that I don't recognize the behavior for what it is: harassment. And I have to remind myself that I too am only human and will make mistakes on one side or the other as I progress through life. 

Cultivating cross-gender relationships while traveling

I've thought a lot about the gendered aspects of interactions while traveling. Certainly it is more likely in South Asia than in the U.S. that even polite conversation across genders will be misinterpreted as sexual interest (or more accurately, assumed to indicate sexual interest). Should I then avoid conversations with male strangers while traveling—which my male-identified colleagues may not have to do—and thus disadvantage myself as a female scholar? Throughout India, even today it is still more common to see more men in public than women (and to rarely see women in public alone). Should I disadvantage myself by limiting access to conversation partners? As a woman, I am already restricted in terms of safe physical access to public (and private) space. The options many of my male colleagues take advantage of without question (taking local buses in large cities, traveling alone at night, etc.) do not feel like safe options for me. Should I restrict myself in the socially as well by limiting access to professional and/or social contacts? 

Or, perhaps more importantly, isn't even the assumption that I should avoiding interacting with men in public a form of gender-based discrimination? Is it fair to judge an entire gender-identity (even within one country) based on the actions of a few? 

I've endured harassment (and worse) from men I've cultivated 'relationships' with over my travels. But there are countless other men (and women) I've cultivated relationships with—professional and personal—who have been respectful, supportive and empowering: male scholars who treat me as a professional peer, women who have offered rides without demanding anything in return, men and women who sincerely want to chat and exchange stories about experiences traveling, and men and women who I consider to be my family abroad. 

There are risks in any relationship you cultivate—with persons of any gender—whether at home or abroad. Most relationships will not devolve as mine did. But some might. I share these reflections in the hope that other travelers might feel empowered to cultivate healthy relationships with a variety of people as they travel—and feel empowered to weed out the unhealthy ones as well! 

Finding the balance between immersion and self-expression

The more I talk with female (foreign) travelers about this subject, the more I come to realize there is a dichotomy in ways of approaching traveling in places like India as a woman. Most women that I have talked with seem to fall into one of two camps.  The degree of nuance in the arguments from either camp may vary, but the essence is clear.

One camp, which I will call the ‘Western-feminist’ camp argues things such as the following:
Regardless of of differences in cultural norms, women should be respected. Things such as wearing local clothing and obeying outdated gendered conventions concerning appropriate body language, appropriate conversations with Indian men,  appropriate social behaviors (smoking, drinking, etc.) simply to please Indians is counterproductive because it communicates that it is acceptable to continue to treat their women (and us) as objects and does not help women gain respect and independence. We should be free to do what we like, and express ourselves just as we would in our home country. They have to learn to respect us. Dressing locally does not truly ‘earn’ respect, therefore it may be better to simply dress respectfully but comfortably.

All of the above statements may not pertain to everyone in this camp, but you get the general idea. The other camp, which I will term the ‘Pro-local’ camp, argues things such as the following:

We are guests in there country, therefore it is best and most respectful to immerse ourselves by behaving exactly as local women would behave. We should dress like them,  and only engage in behaviors that are considered by socially acceptable for our gender. We should avoid doing anything that local women wouldn’t do, such as conversing with Indian men (strangers), going out after dark, walking alone, smoking or drinking. By doing this we earn the respect of Indians and eventually others from our home countries will be respected like us.  Women who dress and behave ‘western’ perpetuate the problem of lack of respect for foreigners.

Likewise, everyone in the ‘Pro-local’ approach may not agree with every statement here. However I think it is fair to say that most female travelers I have encountered tend to lean heavily towards one side or the other. Sometimes the side of the continuum to which they hold may change after travel, or they may eventually gravitate towards the center on one side or another, but to me it is striking how passionate female travelers I have spoken with talk about these issues.  I have seen and heard both approaches advocated by women of various educational backgrounds and various degrees of experience as travelers. I will say that I have noticed female scholars tend to lean more heavily towards the ‘Pro-local’ side of the spectrum, whereas other travelers (such as tourists) who may be more interested in personal comfort and less interested in interacting with locals throughout their travels often lean towards the opposite spectrum, though that is certainly not always the case.

Both views I think are problematic.  From a social-scientific and historical perspective, it is clear that the ‘Western-feminist’ approach has it’s problems. Countries such as India with a history of colonialist rule are not likely to respond well to critiques from western women, especially white women.  Even in the areas of India less affected by colonialism, suggestions made by westerners, no matter how well-intended, will be distrusted by enough people that they will not make a significant difference. Change in post-colonial developing nations such as India, has to come from within, as it did in the case of Gandhi’s movement. There is currently a lot of support for ‘modernization’ of India, meaning developing of India’s infrastructure and educational systems, and progress in certain social issues such as women’s rights in a direction that is modeled after those in Western developed countries. There is also a strong resistance to this development by many politicians, scholars, and individuals who argue that to change the system is to lose what is essentially “Indian” and replace it with “Western” values.  These opponents argue that Modernization/Globalization is leading to a deterioration of family values and social norms which is needed in India to maintain a moral  society. This is exemplified in the post I made 2 weeks ago about Chief Minister of West Bengal Mamata Banerjee’s responses to the increase of rapes in West Bengal. She stopped just short of blaming “modern permissive society” (i.e. western-influenced changing gender norms and norms governing dating) for the incidents of rape. In this case,  we, as foreigners wearing western clothing and behaving “inappropriately” simply serves to illustrate the “problem.” If foreign ways are considered counter to Indian culture, then foreigners exemplifying this does not necessarily help Indian women advocating this cause. In other words, dressing and behaving ‘western’ may in fact be harmful to the cause already underway by Indian women.  When a foreigner dresses “inappropriately” (not covering one’s legs, shoulders, and chest), it does not convey solidarity, it conveys disrespect.  In short, the situation in India is complex. Indians (including Indian women) are fighting on both sides of this issue. Given its colonial past, many Indians are (understandably) resistant  to ‘Western’ (i.e. ‘white’) ways of thinking and governing.  But is the ‘Pro-local’ approach better?

I think there are ways in which the ‘Pro-local’ approach may also be problematic from a women’s rights perspective. It is evident that many women in India want to see India become a place more hospitable to women. Where women can go out past dusk (currently 6pm) without fear of assault. Where women (Indian and foreign alike) can walk the streets alone without fear of harassment. Where they can wear what they please and work whatever job they prefer. In Delhi in particular there has been a huge movement towards this. July 31, 2001 “Slutwalk” reached Delhi. While less risque in dress than it’s US counterparts, it clearly sent a message. The Chief instructor for the Noida branch of Seido Karate informs me that every time there is a rise in reports of assaults in Delhi, all the Delhi martial arts instructors are sought after by individuals and businesses alike for self-defense seminars for their female workers. In more urban cities such as Delhi and Jaipur, I have seen many middle class and upper-middle class Indian women (like Indian men) wear Western clothing or  alternatively hybrids outfits consisting of a Kurta or Kamize shirt over jeans.  In places where Indian women wear Western clothing or hybrid clothing, what is conveyed by a foreigner wearing a salwar kamize? In places where Indian women are struggling for their independence by defying their own norms by walking alone and behaving in non-traditional ways, what does it convey when a foreigner acts more  “Indian” than the Indian women themselves. Are we not then undermining the defiant actions of the same women we claim to be imitating?

This is certainly a complex topic and I am not advocating one approach or another. How to behave and dress while traveling must be a personal decision. Every woman, foreigner or Indian, has the right to feel safe and secure and live free from harassment. From that perspective the ‘Pro-local’ approach is certainly more pragmatic. From personal experience, I can attest that dressing locally and behaving as is expected of Indian women in a given region does cut down on harassment. But is it always the right thing to do?  As female travelers, I think it is essential to make informed decisions about how we want to dress and behave throughout our travels. That decision will certainly be influenced by what regions we will visit, how we travel within a city (alone or in groups, by foot or by rickshaw/auto) and what our purpose is there (tourism, research, study, work, etc.). I  would add that our decision-making process should be informed by another consideration, and that is:

We should decide for ourselves what is our priority when  we are “traveling while female.” Is it to be an ally for Indian women? Is it to live as safely and harassment-free as possible? Is it to make contacts and forge networks with Indians? In other words, I suggest that our dress and behaviors should be consistent with our individual goal(s) as a traveler in India.

If we are researchers, women seeking the respect of members of various communities in order to do our work, then the more immersion-focused 'Pro-local' approach is understandably more favorable. If we are traveling for a particular project, especially one that requires consent and respect of established members of a community, then adhering to gendered behavioral norms is more likely to allow us access to what we need as researchers. Likewise if as researchers and workers, we are in India for a long time, then comfort (such as living as harassment-free as possible) is naturally preferable.  But there are still problems with this approach. While many female scholars and female workers in India have earned the respect due their gender, it is often only the case *after* they have married. I myself have recently experienced how being an (apparently) unmarried female scholar may result in you being less respected. While this is starting to change, in traditional Indian culture, if you are not yet married, then you belong to your father, and therefore you are not yet an adult. An unmarried scholar is then in some ways a contradiction of terms. A child cannot be a scholar. Therefore your credibility may be challenged.  I’m beginning to think that perceived singleness is a larger factor in street harassment than I previously understood. Walking about alone will often mark you as ‘single’ whether or not that is the case. There are certain things that can mark you as ‘married’ (such as mangala sutra necklaces, the red hair dye in the part of your hair and matching toe-rings on the middle toe) and I have been told that people who do those things (in particular the mangala sutra necklace) experience less harassment once those signs of marriage are visible. Though I am currently unmarried, it has been suggested that I too adopt one or more of those marriage indicators to cut down on harassment.

But for me the issue is where does the performance end? How ‘local’ is ‘local enough’?  Where does one draw the line with dress and behavior? Do I stay at home unless escorted by a male friend or colleague? Do I travel only by rickshaw or auto?  I have personally taken the stand that as an unmarried woman, I will not wear something indicating me to be married. I choose to dress locally in whatever way is appropriate to the place I am staying in, but I draw the line at faking a marriage to gain acceptance and ‘respect.’ But that is my personal stance.  Others may (understandably!) prefer to appear as ‘respectable’ as possible to make their stay less uncomfortable and I wholeheartedly support them. But for me, although I will continue to encourage foreign women to dress as local as they feel comfortable doing for their own protection (and for some may even recommend faking signs of marriage), I know there are problems with this practice. In Varanasi and Jaipur, I wear Salwar-kamize. In more tourist-inhabited places like Delhi (and while traveling on AC class trains and tourist buses) I may wear (loose-fitting) western pants under a Kamize/kurta and may wear the dupatta draped over my shoulders but not my head. And in places like Dharamsala, heavily populated by foreigners and exiled Tibetans, I may forego the dupatta altogether.  I make this clothing adjustment willingly, intentionally, and knowingly. I am also aware that these choices may result in potentially increased incidents of street harassment in the areas where I choose to ‘compromise’ on clothing.   But that is my informed decision. Likewise, I choose to walk —only during the day—but nonetheless I walk alone (un-escorted) to my destinations rather than take rickshaws, tempos or autos. I personally can’t justify paying money for a journey that I can easily do on foot. And I appreciate the exercise of walking.  I sacrifice some personal comfort for it, but again this is my informed decision. I make these choices consciously, choosing *not* to completely immerse myself the entirety of a trip.  But since I have only so far traveled in northern areas of India and only in mostly urban cities (large and small) and urban towns, I have this luxury. Perhaps if I were living in a village I would feel differently. 

Obviously this is a controversial issue as many of my friends, colleagues and classmates in the past have quite vocally advocated one particular mode of dress/behavior over another. So I open this up for discussion: What are your thoughts? Where do you personally draw the line between immersion and self-expression through dress and behavior while traveling in places like India?