Apologies for the high levels of swearage in this post, but I am sort of out of it. Living in the northern climes as I do it has been awhile since I spent most of my day outdoors in the sun. And so, I have sort of been beaten to a pulp from my time in the Galapagos, during which I was woken at 6 am every morning and then driven on a Death March of sorts through a series of hiking/snorkeling outings, though not necessarily in that order. It was not, I am sad to report, a Bikini Boot Camp (I need something more like Bikini Boot Permanent Housing to approach bikini-ness of body). At the end of it, I still look like this:
Actual picture actually taken by actual Pilgrim Soul on actual island in actual Galapagos.
No matter. It was totally worth it. A sea lion rubbed his/her cheek on me! I swam with sharks, turtles, and all manner of other creatures! I saw a chocolate chip starfish! And more.
But this is not a nature/personal blog, and you know me: even when on vacation miles from anywhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, I see gender everywhere. Forthwith, an observation of the status of gender relations in the Galapagos and abroad:
1. Women travelling alone are still sadly exotic. Being of the kind of woman who has not yet had her essential mustang-ity tamed by a dude, it’s either go-it-alone or don’t-go-at-all for me, and every time I do travel I get all manner of raised eyebrows. Because a woman travelling on her own is just at an unacceptably high risk of rape, one supposes. Nevermind that most raped women I have ever met and known were raped by someone they knew, but whatever, I guess I understand it. I do feel a twinge of, “fuck, I’m really here by myself” whenever I arrive in these places. But everybody carries my bags out of some concern for my bird-like feminine bones, so there are benefits.
2. The XX chromosome really lost out on the evolutionary score. I say this tongue-in-cheek of course, but it seemed like every animal we saw with beautiful colouring was male, and then their comparably drab companions were female. This was slightly funny to me as in the human species it seems to me that the colourful and interesting women far outnumber the colourful and interesting men. I blame the patriarchy, etc etc.
3. Beautiful and sincere young men occupy the travel circuit. Far be it from me to advocate ogleage (I am against the commodification of bodies and all that patriarchal jazz), but I was lucky enough, for most of my trip, to be on a boat with twelve 50-to-60-year-olds and one very beautiful 26-year-old man from a Celtic fringe area of the UK. (Details are being suppressed to protect the innocent, although that’s frankly enough to identify me to anyone who was on the trip. Oh well.) Now, I am 29, which is not so very much older than 26, but it seems these are three important years, because this dude made me feel positively middle-aged. He had been travelling for a few months (he is a schoolteacher on sabbatical) and was prone to using phrases like “Blimey!” without a trace of irony. I was greeted aboard the boat by one of the older women, who of course immediately confided, “You’re our token younger couple.” I corrected her immediately, although this young man was so beautiful I was kind of flattered she’d even think he’d date a person like me. (My flattery was borne out when he later told me that his “top 5″ contained the likes of Biel and Knightley.)
From a feminist perspective, though, it was fascinating to me that all of these women suddenly adopted the dude as a surrogate child whilst I was left largely alone. As I’ve said, we were kind of the same age. Some of this can be chalked up to the fact that he was all relaxed and I took awhile to unwind from middle-aged-city-lawyer-mode into funny-charming-twentysomething mode, after which they tended to notice me a little more. But the usual “I have shoes older than you”-type remarks were still reserved for him alone.
He took well to it because he was something of a natural charmer and he learned pretty quickly that he would inspire adoring sighs if he said things like, “I’d like to take my future wife, whoever she is, here on our honeymoon.” (Readers, I resisted the eyeroll, I did! Take PilgrimSoul out of the city and the occasional cynicism goes too!) I don’t think he was insincere, of course, just wanting to please and finding it easy to do so. But the way these women doted on him was something else, to the point where our final dinner in Quito revolved around matching him up with various children and grandchildren of our co-travellers.
I guess this is what it will be like to be an older woman, this invisible status, where you are there but not-quite. I’ve heard some women speak of this as liberating, this thing of not being ogled and whistled at as one walks down the street of being a key to self-discovery, to knowing who you are without the scrutiny of others so tightly focussed on the size of your ass and the measurement of your bust line. But I surprised myself by feeling a little bit sad that I’m becoming unnoticeable, that I must no longer look as young as I am, that work has made my skin greyer than it should be, that genuine exclamations of youthful joy and regret don’t come to me as easily as they once did, that my hips are uncomfortably rounder than they were three years ago because I’ve been sitting on my ass all day, 350 or so days a year the last little while, that I’m no longer visible as a woman to a 26-year-old boy who is in some ways what I thought I wanted, long ago, when the world seemed a lot wider than it does these days.
Oh well.
top five? sigh. so unhot. the seal cheek rubbing sounds magical though. i also think you should quit your job. you blame the patriarchy, i blame the Firm.
Ugh, I am already steeling myself for my inevitable experience with #1 when I go to S. America this weekend. I would love to be able to magically transform myself into old hag for these trips. Old hags are invisible whereas young women traveling alone are NOT.
Also, I totally want to lie in the sun and spoon with that sea lion. I don’t think it would bite, do you?
Sounds like a lovely trip. However, that guy is very much reminding me of last night’s “30 Rock”. I wonder if he has no idea that people fuss over him because he’s beautiful.
As for #1, yeah, a family member was gang-raped in Guatemala while traveling alone. I would never ever be able to do it just on that basis, frankly.
#2, I distinctly remember our yearlong first grade unit on birds (no, I am not kidding) and how the Audebon Guide to Birds featured only boy birds in big pictures because the girl birds were “drab”. I was confused.
PS, I feel your aging-related pains. I turned 29 a mere two weeks ago and, just this morning, found my first grey — nay, white — hair.
And then I found 3 more.
It is a decidedly uncool development.
Oh, but I’m glad you enjoyed your trip! The sleepy sea lion pic is awesome. I am jealous.
Like DangerMouse said, it sounds like he’s in “the bubble” and probably doesn’t realize (or worse, maybe he does!) that his good looks result in him getting special treatment.
The bulk of your trip sounds wonderful. And as your for numbered observations, I can completely relate. I wish I could say something more analytical or profound, but all I can say is that something similar once happened to me and I think I understand how you’re feeling.
More awesome pictures may be accessed by emailing me and I shall send you to my flickr feed.
JD, I am more or less with you. We shall see if the economy indulges me.
SOALG, I’m sorry that happened to your family member, but I have wondered more than once if the fear of travelling alone that women are more or less told to have is at all proportional to such incidents. I know women who were gang-raped right here in the good old U.S. of A., is what I’m saying, I guess.
Also, DangerMouse, I think he is aware, though vaguely. My aunts would say he was “well-mothered,” because he nonetheless tried not to make a big deal of it, though there was a beach pushups/yoga episode. (He tried to be discreet by hiding down behind some rocks, one of the women found him, suffice it to say hilarity ensued.)
I should say, the older men/women did tell me they thought I was a child, that my parents must be very proud, and I was continually reminded of how “sexy” my hair was (let’s just say it acts up in the presence of humidity and sea water). So it was not all bad.
I think your hair is sexy all the time. All dark and tumbly. Love it. Want it.
dark and tumbly? jealousy! like from wuthering heights or something. mine is so insubstantial i’ve had to cut it off very short and dye it many colors to keep myself interested in my own visage. it’s definitely never been called sexy.
I guess I should have clarified — it’s not about foreign vs. domestic. Just going anywhere unfamiliar by myself freaks me out. Even though I full well know that the majority of rapes are not committed by strangers. I drove to Texas by myself I’m 2003 and I was really nervous the whole three days.
And I second PhDork on your hair. You also have a great smile. Better than Biel’s.
My best friend from Scranton travels alone frequently. She spent three weeks in Japan about two years ago, then she went to Thailand, and last year she went to Cambodia and Laos. She’s planning another trip right now!
Before I was “coupled,” I took several solo trips. Nothing fancy or exotic, just some quality me-time at the beach…but boy, did I love it.
Fiancé doesn’t know it, but I’m totally going to take another solo beach trip at some point!
I’ve never done a vacay by myself, but lots of work/school trips solo: Wales, Finland/Estonia, Canada, SanFran, Boston, DC, Chicago and other glamorous places like Kansas City! It’s never been a problem because there’s so much to do, people to meet, etc., but I think it would feel really weird to go on a “pure” holiday w/o the Dude.
Prob’ly worth trying, though.
Oh god I can’t help but be pedantic, but bird sex chromosomes are actually ZW system. Males are ZZ while females are ZW.
I think it would be so glorious to have a week by myself on a beach somewhere. Probably Mexico. But I honestly can’t imagine in my life when that would ever happen. It sounds extremely dashing and adventuresome. Even though, like PhD, I travel a lot for work and often spend days and weeks by myself for that, a vacation feels completely different. Of course, I haven’t taken a vacation that wasn’t to visit family or attend a wedding since 2003 so maybe that has something to do with it. I think I am too duty-driven and would feel guilty I wasn’t “multi tasking” my vacation to also get quality time in with family and friends. I guess no matter how you live your life it is possible to interpret it in a depressingly anti feminist way.
Thanks, Nepenthe, I really didn’t know that! And I like learning new things, feel free to be pedantic.
JD, this is the second time I did a “me myself and I” trip on my own, and obviously, this was a little less on my own than last time because of the tour group aspect.
I have settled on surf camp for my next trip, mostly because I did discover that I shouldn’t waste an opportunity to not be sitting still. And also because I have a certain fascination with laid-back surf culture.
And then, in the fall, if I still have a job (knock wood) India. And thus will end the year of PilgrimSoul travel, and next year, perhaps a new job and a new life somewhere else. Short though it was, this trip marked another turning point – I feel freed of the need to be in NY.
“Bird-like feminine bones” reminds me of 30 Rock’s Phoebe’s “avian bone syndrome.”
Ow, my bones.
so into both the surf camp and india ideas
ummm…..so did you hook up? (sorry sorry I joke)