Blog #31: A Day Alone in the Park Which Was Anything But a Day Alone in the Park

Today, I was really looking forward to spending the day alone. (Note yesterday’s blog post, haha). From an indulgent breakfast, to sitting in a park reading Hemingway under the shade of a sprawling tree, to visiting a local art gallery, I was ready for an amazing day with nobody’s company but my own.

Breakfast was perfect. My walk to the park was perfect. Heck, even the first hour or so reading at the park was perfect. But then, much to my dismay, people started noticing that I, a (white) woman, was sitting there alone.

It started with selfie requests from a few random guys. This isn’t totally unheard of… the whole ‘being white in India’ thing has led to this request on a number of different occasions. Still, I would preferred to just read my book instead of explain to some guys in their mid-20s that I wasn’t interested in taking a picture with them. This happened three times. (We’ll call them guys #1-3.)

After that, it was a middle-aged man who sat down and, unprompted, began detailing to me his life story. It was heartbreaking, and maybe it was true, or maybe it wasn’t. At the end, he asked me not just for money, but to actually take him to lunch. (Guy #4.)

Once he left, another 20-something asked me to go celebrate somebody's birthday with him. Upon my declining of that offer, he asked me to play another stranger’s guitar for him. (Where the joke would have ultimately been on him, seeing as I don’t even know how to play guitar. Guy #5.)

Once he left, one more 20-something dropped by to ask me what my native language is. English was apparently not an acceptable answer, so he sat down and asked “don’t you know any other languages?” Apparently, Spanish was an acceptable answer to that question, which prompted him to continue the conversation. For an hour. In this hour he suggested we become “wine buddies,” “museum buddies,” and “movie buddies.” If it weren’t for the man sitting at the tree across from me, who I could tell was watching out to make sure I was fine, I would have simply left the conversation. But, seeing as this would have left me completely alone, I figured it was my best bet to sit through the grueling conversation where the other man could at least keep an eye on me.

After dozens of hints, and what felt like a dozen years, I finally got this guy to leave me alone. I went back to my book, but eventually decided I actually wanted to spend some time alone, so I would head to the art museum nearby. Unbeknownst to me, the man who I’d thought I had gotten rid of was sitting on a bench somewhere where he could still see me, so when I began to leave the park, he took it upon himself to follow me. (Guy #6.)

I mean, come on… we all know this is creepy, right?? I could not shake Guy #6, as he kept wanting to make plans with me, wanting to know where I was going, wanting to know where I lived. He “just wanted to be friends,” but also felt the need to let me know that I’m “really, the most gorgeous person he’s ever seen,” that I “look like an angel with my blonde hair and blue eyes shining in the sunlight.” Nothing I said could make him leave, so I had to play my least favorite card.

“I’m going to meet my boyfriend.”

**Okay, so for a brief side note, let’s unpack just some of what’s wrong with this. First of all, obviously, I, as a woman, should not have to say a man is waiting on me for my “no” to be taken seriously. My “no” should be the end of the conversation, regardless of another man’s existence in my life. This not only invalidates me as a woman, and perpetuates a subliminal idea that if I were actually dating a man, he would somehow have possession or control over me. This leads to point two, that pulling this card perpetuates the underlying notion that a man’s opinion or existence is somehow superior to that of a woman’s. Third, this solidifies a heteronormative ideology. If I were to say that I were going to meet my girlfriend, it would not have the same effect. In fact, it may even lead to an even worse or more dangerous situation. So, in the name of safety, the heteronormative dogma is perpetuated. Not-so-brief side note over.**

Okay, let’s get back to this story, folks. I begrudgingly played the boyfriend card. Ew. To my simultaneous dismay and relief, it worked! Guy #6 walked me out of the park ‘for my own safety’ *eye-roll* and I was able to walk away while ‘on the phone with my boyfriend,’ constantly looking back to make sure he wasn’t following me.

I arrived to the art gallery annoyed, but ready to restart my day with myself by gawking at some ancient Indian art. (That stuff is seriously beautiful, yo.) The museum I was at consisted of two buildings, with a lovely garden area between the two, and if you’ve ever been to Bangalore, you’d understand why I was so drawn to the peaceful garden. I was enjoying some tranquility within the city— the weather was beautiful, lovely people surrounded me but didn’t bother me, flowers and trees in shades from across the color spectrum were all around— when all of a sudden, none other than Guy #6 arrives, making a beeline for me.

I mean… What?!

A million thoughts go through my head. “I’m obviously not with my ‘boyfriend.’ What is he going to say? What is he going to do? Did he follow me all the way here? How did he find me? What do I say? What do I do? How do I leave? Am I in danger?”

He immediately asks where my boyfriend is, if I lied to him about having a boyfriend, as if I owe him an explanation. At this point, I’m simply shook. I mean… is he serious? My brain turns to mush, like the gluten-free rice pasta I overcooked a couple days ago.

I instinctively pick up my phone and call the last person I texted, who thankfully already knows about Guy #6 from the park, and he helps me formulate a coherent thought again. He’s more concerned than I am, probably because I’m more shocked than anything else. With his guidance, I walk to the security guard, intently followed the whole time by Guy #6, and call an Uber home.

In front of the security guard, I tell Guy #6 over and over to leave me alone, to go away. He wants an explanation, he just wants to be friends, he just wants to know why I don’t want to talk to him. He’s standing too close to me. Fear and shock are pulsing through my every vein.

I tried not to make a scene, even though I should have. I tried to remain calm and not let him see me shaking. I tried to make him understand I didn’t want his company. I’m sure he understood.

God bless my Uber driver for arriving in under a minute, allowing for a quick escape.

As I sat in the back of my Uber, holding back tears, I tried to comprehend everything that had just happened. Mostly, I was upset. I was upset that I couldn’t just read a book and look at some art without feeling unsafe. I was upset that I didn’t get to take myself out to the nice dinner I had planned, because I had to escape to the safety of my home. I was upset that I couldn't be comfortable just existing by myself in public. I’m still upset. My comfort was stolen from me, the day I was so looking forward to ruined.

The reality is that this situation has very little to do with the fact that I’m in India, and everything to do with the fact that I’m a woman. Time and again, my solitude is seen as an invitation. My status as a woman makes me even more inviting. After all, a woman is a dangerous thing to be.

Part of me hates to dwell on this part of my day. There were better parts I was able to enjoy, so I should just let it go, right? I don’t like to harbor anger, so perhaps I should just try to forget about the whole thing.

At the same time, I should be angry about this. I deserve to be angry about this. Beyond that, forgetting about the whole event would be easier if it were an isolated incident, but it wasn’t. For my own safety, I kind of have to dwell on it, and if not dwell on it, at least keep it in the back of my mind. Every situation like this teaches me something new that I can look out for next time, because without a doubt, there will be a next time.

So, in the wise words of Drake, I’m upset. It will be a while before I can shake the feeling of being followed. I will be bitter with Guys #1-6 for ruining my day in the park for a while. At the same time, I will not allow them to stop me from living my own life. There are guys that suck everywhere in the world, and if I really wanted to stay safe, I’d just lock myself in my room and never come out. But, if I did this, they’d win, and I’m too competitive of a person to let that happen. So I won’t.

In reality, there’s not a great solution, other than for guys to stop being shitty. If you are a shitty guy who is reading this, stop being shitty! If you are a woman who is reading this, stay safe, and don’t let shitty guys stop you from living your life! If you are a person who identifies as anything other than a man or woman, don’t be shitty and stay safe and live your own life! Any person who is reading this should not be shitty and stay safe and live their own life! We can all do all of those things! Let’s be better people!

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. Good night.

I took this picture approximately twelve seconds before Guy #6 showed up.