Era Broma

There are some things I will never fully understand about Mexico. Such as some of the "bromas", or jokes, that I´ve encountered.

This morning as I was at the door of the Casa, key in the lock to enter, I suddenly felt someone grab and squeeze my ass. I yelped and wondered how Alberto had managed to follow me to work because I couldn´t imagine who else would dare to do such a thing. It was afterall 10:00 in the morning on a public street at the door to my workplace. Recognizing that it was not in fact Alberto, my shock kicked in and I turned and saw a young man strolling nonchalantly down the street. I ran after him, my disbelief turning to anger, grabbed his arm and turned him around to face me.

Do I know you?! Do I know you?! - I barked in English, my senses lost to the emotions welling up in me. His eyes widened and he stumbled to say something in English in return, suddenly as shocked as I had been.
!¿Porque lo hiciste?! (Why did you do that?!)
Era broma, era broma. - he stuttered. (It was a joke.)
No es broma. Este es mi cuerpo y no puedes tocarlo. Estoy embarazada. No puedes tocar ningúna mujer así. - My anger came spilling out along with hot tears.
Era broma. - he repeated as if that should have explained it.

But it didn't, and I still don't understand. How is it that a culture can accept such utter disrespect and violation of a woman's body and explain it away as a joke? As you know, this is not the first time I've been grabbed, squeezed, or pressed up against by an utter stranger. And I'm far from alone. Just last night on the news city officials were boasting of the new program they are implementing in the Metro to try to reduce such violations against women. Lots of cameras and new security booths, separate trains for women. The string of women they interviewed confirmed the problem but few had hope that it could be helped. Cameras and police booths certainly don't seem very effective against what appears to be an engrained cultural norm. Even the women's hopeless resignation seemed to signal a level of cultural acceptance across gender lines.

I simply cannot understand what could go through a man's head before sexually acousting a woman he does not know, in public, that would suggest to him that such behavior was ok. I have never lived in a place where this open violation of a woman's body is so common and so accepted.

I am not proud of the way I handled this particular situation. For someone who claims to be committed to seeking nonviolent solutions to conflicts, I cannot help but feel confused and ashamed by my own behavior as well. I do believe such behavior needs to be confronted and challenged, but I did not do it in a compassionate way that recognized the Light in this person. I simply let my anger take over and found myself acting violently toward him. I may not have physically sought to harm him, but my words and attitude were certainly not guided by love for the divine I claim to believe exists in every person. Rather, I wanted to force him to understand something.

It took me a good 15 minutes to calm down, clear the tears, and reflect on why it was I let such petty behavior provoke me so. I do now know that I understand it myself. I do know these incidents set off an anger and sense of being violated in me that is very distinct and much more furious than being robbed or physically assaulted (I was punched once in high school if that counts). Perhaps somehow I can understand what leads someone to steal or fight, while I cannot understand how someone equates sexually violating a woman's body with a joke.