A switched ring
No birds of a feather
Dear friends,
I was hit on by a middle-aged man.
It would have been a decent morning flight from Hanoi to Saigon if the fellow passenger hadn’t turned to me for my phone number during the taxi.
Even when I gave him my US number, he tried to call me out saying it looked “unreal”.
“I’m back to Vietnam for a business trip,” I replied. It was a good mix of truth and lie.
He insisted on offering me “a cup of coffee” right after we landed as if I had all this time in the world for a sickening man and I could tell he wanted to know where I would stay over so badly.
As people processed to leave the plane, he rushed after me, again, for my name. I can’t recall which one I gave or whether I split out my real one. The experience was so bizarre and disturbing though I remembered faking smiles.
He wore a pair of suede loafers, a polo shirt and carried a Balmain suitcase – slick, fit and giving red flags, as red as the Hugo Boss rectangle logo on his chest.
On our way to the hotel, my colleague – once an IT sales executive – showed me how she switched her ring from middle finger to ring finger whenever going out meeting clients over a drink. I was seriously thinking about buying a similar platinum band with tiny diamonds as we slowly approached the city center.
Instantly responding to my story, another person said he had never been hit on by a stranger.
“That’s because you’re a man,” I said, feeling disappointed and impotent.
At that moment, something was shattered inside. I found myself unconsciously checking the outfit I wore aboard – a pair of moss green balloon pants, a cream sleeveless linen top that could actually offer a sneak peek at a matchy bra.
It was obviously not my fault to don such a brilliant outfit – breezy, belt-free and Mame Kuroguchi – but I couldn’t stop questioning myself and feeling humiliated.
Who gave that man such entitlement to push those questions on me?
How can a person having lived that long not know about boundaries?
Am I too cynical? Was he just being nice?
No.
On the same day, the Minister of Labor, Invalids and Social Affairs, presented a report on national goals of gender equality. In comparison with 2022, last year witnessed the rising number of male victims of domestic assaults with 565 cases.
Of some 3200 victims, female ones accounted for the major part of 2600. The number of reported cases dropped but the percentage of male victims increased, according to the report.
In the comment section, a lot of jokes were shared, probably by male readers, on how they were treated badly by their wives, hence, being victims, too.
The downtrend of reported domestic violence cases doesn’t simply imply that gender equality has been improved. It can signal oppression towards victims as well as internalization and normalization of violence acts.
In many cases, victims are not empowered to report the violence.
Those who have platforms, Facebook or Instagram accounts with a lot of followers, however, choose to share their stories online. Two days ago, Lâm Minh – a famed fashionista – live-streamed in an unstable condition, hugging her son, saying she was beaten by her partner Decao – another fashionista – and his mother.
It’s still unknown if her case would be reported legally.
“Are you sure you’re OK? Wanna sugar cane juice?,” the childhood friend, with whom I always argue nonsense stuff, asked as I screamed my incident over his shoulders on our motorbike ride to the airport.
“No,” I refused, “already indulged in too much sugar.”
He nodded.
“Just ask. You pay yourself.”
It was a slightly sweet taste of a crack being filled.
Till next time,
T.
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