Me, delicate?!**

I was chatting with my friend the other day about my experiences in Guatemala so far.  As we continued to talk about difficulties integrating or building relationships, she admitted that a lot of stereotypes about North Americans and Europeans influence people’s perception of me.  One of which is that we’re delicate.  “Delicate?  Like my stomach is sensitive?” I inquired curiously.  “Well, in all ways.  Just more delicate than us,” she vaguely explained, leaving me to ponder her statement. 

To give a bit more context to our conversation, we were talking about adapting to life in Guatemala, about novios, and about men.  I told her how I ignore men when they shout at me here, but in the U.S. I would probably shout back or do something because I simply wouldn’t take such disrespect there.   When I thought about it further, I looked back at the latter statement.  I hate it when men yell at me, try to touch me, or just slow down their car to stare at me in a disgustingly intimate and dehumanizing way, and yet I do nothing about it here.  In a sense, I feel powerless since I am respecting cultural norms by ignoring these actions.  I have never seen a Guatemalan woman react to such things.  I used to wonder to myself, “Why don’t you do anything—say anything?!”  In this sense, my feeling violated and subsequent desire to act out could be seen as delicate—I let it affect me.  To me though, my acting out is my way of showing strength and not allowing someone else to dominate me.   Guatemalan women in my community seem to have a silent, steady, endurance, and strength.  In this sense it is rather a cultural difference between the internal and external.  Both “strengths” and “weaknesses” can be seen as positives or negatives depending on the perspective.  To clarify, Western women may ironically be seen as delicate for externally expressing their internal strength.  Guatemalan women, on the other hand, may be seen as submissive or passive for not visibly expressing the stoic strength that leaves them unaffected.

Perhaps we are more delicate, unaccustomed to the stark gender inequalities, poverty, and difficulties of living in the “developing” world.  Or perhaps we have found our voice and don’t want to be silenced or oppressed again.  Either way, there is value in both reactions—whether it is a stoic strength that must endure in order to survive or a loud voice of resistance to domination. 

**This blog relates specifically to the experiences that I have had and witnessed in my largely Mayan rural community.