Pursuit

As you can tell from the majority of my blog posts, there are many very positive things about Guayaquil. I do have to be honest though, unfortunately, despite my wishes, it's not always sunshine and lollipops. I contemplated whether or not I should post this blog, but after receiving some good advice, I decided to go ahead with it. It's a good thing to let people know and be prepared for, and it's also a reality, and I am not here to give any false impressions. That being said, excessive attention definitely has its downside. Especially when it comes to the aggressive men here, my GOODNESS.

The lessons I have learned for when you get hit on, and you are not interested:

1. Do not let people know you’re from another country: Being from another country instantly associates you with money, and this can be dangerous, especially when they want to borrow some. 

2. Do not give them your real name. – This can result in them hollering your name from a distance, thus, exposing it to the other creepy men in the area. You will wonder why people are calling you by your name, and be confused because you will think you should know them. Fake name = easier to ignore. 

3. Telling them you are happily taken doesn´t work, unless they see you with that man, you're single to them. – This definitely doesn’t help when you´re other half is in Canada. (sniffles)

I was warned that the men here don´t take ¨No¨ as an answer, because apparently ¨women don´t know what they want.¨ How does that make ANY sense at all? Both the English and the Spanish language´s definition of NO usually indicates (NOT) wanting something quiet clearly. If we didn’t know what we wanted, then why would we give you such a clear and definite answer? I am not here to judge anybody; however, when I am feeling uncomfortable, and a man is not leaving me alone, nor taking no for an answer, I have no idea what to do. So I literally start running, mid conversation, as fast as I can, for as long as I can, without looking back once. My height most definitely comes in handy when it comes to a pursuit. My one giant stride equates to three of most average strides. Once again, I am saved by my tallness, thank you legs.

But then, the unthinkable happened. After sprinting away several times in one day becomes an average day without much stretching, of course, the inevitable happened, I pulled a hamstring. Now I am not only getting hit on by the creepiest most aggressive men, I am also unable to use my (foolproof) strategy. After being followed all the way home, and getting my arm grabbed firmly, I knew I needed help. So the following day I called Sonja, and we met up for tea. She laughed at my ridiculous tactics, and told me there´s an ¨easier way¨. She said that all I had to do is insult them, harshly, and be as vulgar as possible. I couldn’t help but think (are you kidding me?) Her answer surprised me. I grew up in a ¨no swearing¨ household, and to this day ¨bad words¨ make me cringe, and want to wash people’s mouths out with soap. I´m not even joking, ask my friends! They will tell you ¨Swearing makes Cassie´s ears bleed¨. 

"Words are stronger than you think, always be mindful of the words that you use. Make sure they reflect the person you are on the inside." - Mom

Now I was sitting in a coffee shop, mortified because I was being told that doing something I´ve never neither done, nor enjoyed hearing had to be my new method of survival. ¨NOOOOOO! Why me? Why this? ¨ I sadly took out a pen and a notepad, and began writing these horrible, harsh and just plain mean words. Sonja laughed at what she described as my ¨utterly disgusted face expression¨. I would share the words with you; however, writing them down once was hard enough. When my hamstring heals up, you best believe, I will go back to my good old ways. It was easy, fast, and fun. I even got a good work out once in a while. My personal lesson from this whole experience is not ¨learn how to swear, they usually leave you alone¨ it is however, ¨stretch your legs so that you can keep running without hurting yourself¨.