Sunday, April 20, 2008

Leave the "bitch" at home, please

"I like your pussy!" It came from a chubby pubescent boy behind me on the sidewalk, more for the benefit of a passing truckload of gawking local men than to gain my affections. It was noon in Tegucigalpa, the first day of my return to Honduras (with a human rights organization), and I was headed downtown for a late breakfast. I'd been in the country once before, and had promised I'd never subject myself to it again. Never say never. I've heard that before, too.

My first trip to Honduras was purely for pleasure, but dodging bullets and sexual harassment aren't my good time. It was a valuable visit, though. I discovered that while learning a new language can open doors, not all doors need to be opened. What this boy said to me, I'd heard many times from the lips of Honduran urbanites. It's been whispered, it's been yelled, it's been accompanied by classic goosing.

I assumed this boy didn't know what he was saying, not really, and only mimicked the older men to impress them. Tens of them, crowded together on the flatbed truck, heeded the boy's cue and jeered. If any were silent, I couldn't be sure; my eyes rolled too far back to tell. My stomach growled. If only I could fart on command.

I felt obligated to clear things up for the boy, to give him a fighting chance for future international relations. In crap Spanish, I explained that if he ever wants to actually land an English-speaking girlfriend, he shouldn't mention the P-word when he introduces himself. He seemed to be listening, and thought for a moment before screaming, "I am going to fcuk you so hard, you bitch." To his credit, he pronounced each word perfectly.

As any lone traveller, my skin is tan and thick, so it's not the heckling that bothers me. Depending on where I am, I'm a güera, gringa, muñeca, guapa, flaquita, linda, or even a calientita huevos. That's fine. It's just that I'd rather leave the "bitch" and "pussy" at home. So, if I ever meet the jerk tourist who imported that phrase, I'm going to be sure he knows what these guys are saying about his mother.

Anyway, this is what I ended up eating for breakfast:

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