One of the first things I noticed here and one of the hardest things to cope with due to its unrelenting persistence is the staring. Now, it’s one thing to stare at me because I’m white (that’s the curious stare), but it’s another to stare at me because I’m a white woman (that’s the perverted stare).
Gender relations in Bangladesh leaves something to be desired. It’s ok for you to stare at my chest, but it’s not okay for me to hug my male friend...please explain? Apart from a few ‘out there’ young couples, there is a distinct lack of public affection between the sexes. Even an innocent pat on the back (or butt slap...go figure) is inappropriate.
I know it doesn’t sound like something that would cause great anxiety, but actually after a stressful day a hug (or butt slap) may be required. Also we all know self control isn’t my strong point. Can’t have something? Sorry, what? All I can see is this huge red flag...
Don’t get me wrong, not all affection is forbidden. In fact, it is very common to see men holding hands, and occasionally women, but male-female touching is strictly out of bounds.
If staring were an Olympic sport, Bangladesh would take gold. And I’m not just talking about the staring at bideshi’s...but staring at anything of the remotest interest. Laying a driveway? Changing a tyre? I’m gonna stick around and watch for awhile.
This isn’t a massive problem for me, because as any of my exes will testify, I have an uncanny ability to block out or ignore things (sometimes even whole conversations). It’s when the staring turns into blatantly sexual observation that I have a problem.
“Oooh nice” is a phrase I hear often. This comment, unlike many of the others (“hey baby/sexy”, etc) which are said quietly in passing, is blatant in its directness...usually said as he is approaching and has had a chance to give you a full look over. Should I be honoured that he really thinks so?
The jeering combined with the staring and occasional ass grabbing is too much some days. And it makes me think that sexual repression has a lot of answer for.
Sexuality is such a different kettle of fish here. In western cultures we revel in revealing womanly curves in a subtle way (ok, ok and sometimes not so subtly). Here, every curve is observed, almost because of attempts to cover them up. The salwar (pants) is high waisted and long legged (to hide those sexy ankles), the kameez (top) is long to prevent the showing of flesh and the orna (scarf) should be worn across the chest to hide womanly contours. Still, they look.
I’ve never felt more observed in my life.
But it is something that you learn to accept and surely part of the reason we are here is to gain a deeper cultural understanding and build relationships to further cultural exchange. As much as there is to be saddened by the traditional and often horrific gender abuses in Bangladesh, you can see things are changing (however slowly) and that, in most part, there is a recognition of this need.
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