I can't sleep. :(
On 7 September 2004 (Tuesday) the final semester PR students of Taylor's School of Communications got together to organise a campaign to create awareness about date rape. The campaign is titled Stop Date Rape: Can You Trust His Intentions? The degree students also managed to invite Ivy Josiah of WAO to speak at the launch.
Date rape is defined as "being subjected to unwanted sexual intercourse, oral sex, anal sex, or other sexual contact through the use of force of threat of force." Unsuccessful attempts are also within the term rape.
The official website is here
Being degree students ourselves, our class was required to attend the campaign launch, because our PR students have to organise something along this line during their final semester. "Think of it as practice," our lecturer said.
I didn't want to go. Sitting in the lecture hall during the entire launch was painful for me. It brought back some memories I'd rather forget, and since I've never really spoken about this, it's sort of an 'out of sight, out of mind' kinda thing I have going on. Denial of the grandest degree. It worked though, for a while.
Before I go on, a brief history lesson here would be appropriate. I think. About 2 years ago, I went on a trip to Pulau Langkawi with my ex-college mates. On the third day of our trip, we went on an excursion to Pulau Payar. I'm afraid of the sea, and I have a fear of drowning, but I decided to go after being persuaded by my friends. After all, I was on vacation, I'm supposed to do kitschy, touristy stuff like wear Hawaiian shirts and overcoming my fears. There were around 15 people in our group, and I think about 3 knew how to swim. The rest of us strapped on bright orange life jackets and jumped into the sea anyway. In retrospect, going snorkelling before knowing how to swim was a very stupid thing to do.
After fooling around for a while, 2 scuba-diving instructors approached me and my best friend while we were floating near the shore and asked us if we could swim. We were wearing ugly orange vests, so the answer was obviously no. They then offered to teach us, and in our naivete, we agreed to go along with them. They took us into deep water, to places away from the route tourists usually throng. It was there that I saw all the pretty coral and a huge blue-green fish the size of my torso. There was also a scary-looking meat-eating fish that he told me was a barracuda. At the time, I remember thinking how lucky we were to get guides, cos the coral on the 'main road' where tourists gather are almost all dead.
I also remember the guy who took me had a plastic bottle of breadcrumbs he'd use to feed the fish with. After all the breadcrumbs were gone, he threw the bottle into the sea just like that, and I remember feeling shocked, cos he's a scuba instructor whose livelihood depends on the marine life of the island, and here he is throwing a plastic bottle away like that. I can't remember his name though. It's funny what trivial things the brain chooses to focus on.
We snorkeled for about an hour or so, I guess. I had so much fun I didn't even notice that his friend had led my friend away. After a while my life jacket came loose, and I panicked, cos I have this fear of drowning. My guide then took me to this piece of rocky outcrop thingy in the middle of the sea and pulled me onto it. It wasn't a huge space, just about enough for 2 people to sit on. It was then that he started to act up, saying things I didn't want to hear and touching me. By the time I realised what he was doing, it was already too late, since I was effectively trapped by the water and my loosened life jacket. There wasn't much I could do to stop him, but I got cuts on my hands and legs for my efforts, which were futile anyway. The cuts healed in about 2 weeks, and now the scars are completely gone. The inside takes longer though.
I suppose I should be thankful that he didn't try anything else. It could've been worse, but that doesn't make me feel any better about this. I blame myself for being stupid like that, for allowing things to get out of hand. There were so many things I could've done to prevent that from happening, if only I was a little bit more alert. It doesn't help that this isn't the first time shit like this has happened to me. For some reason I'm a weirdo-magnet. I realise there's no use in crying over spilt milk, but then it's hard getting over your own stupidity. Hopefully now that I'm older, I'm also wiser.
Up to this day I have mixed feelings about that place. On one hand I loved swimming with the fish and looking at the corals and the sea cucumbers. It was something I've never done before, and it was really a lot of fun. Up to a point anyway. On the other hand, if I hadn't made that trip, I wouldn't be crying in the darkened lecture hall.
Anyway, the whole point of this story is to say that I've picked up a few lessons on the way to adulthood. I had a look at the statistics in the website, and I really don't like what I see. If this helps at least one other girl out there, then I guess it's worth it.
Lesson number 1 is to never put yourself in a vulnerable position that other people can take advantage of. It doesn't matter whether you're in a car park or out at sea. Always be alert of your surroundings and be careful if you're alone. Be aware of where the exits are, and try to imagine what you would do in case someone attacked you or surprised you. Shit happens, and it's easier to deal with if you're prepared. It's all elementary boy scout stuff.
Lesson number 2 is to never trust people you don't know. Doesn't matter if it's a doctor, a construction worker or a policeman. Identity theft is easy enough now that we're in the age of information technology. Even if it's people you know you should always be careful, because you can never gauge people's intentions. Mulder got it right when he said trust no one.
Lesson number 3, talk about it with people you trust. It may be a social worker or your parents, your friends or your relatives. Keeping it cooped inside isn't going to help, and the case study would be me. If I'd talked about this earlier with someone I would probably not react as emotionally as I did during the launch. I'm still having problems with this as I'm typing out this post. I never told my parents or my brother until about a week after the incident, cos I didn't want them to worry about me. What I did do was write a short story dealing with a similar subject matter, and I cried buckets while doing it, but it helped a bit, I think.
Lesson number 4, don't be submissive. It may be your posture, the way you talk, the way you dress, anything. Seemingly insignificant stuff like this conveys a message, and unscrupulous people are more likely to prey on women they think are weak than women who project an aura of confidence. It doesn't matter that you have low self-esteem, confidence can be faked. An easy way would be to stand up straight and look people in the eye when they speak. Record the way you talk so that you can hear yourself, and then try to practice speaking with confidence.
That's about it. This sounds paranoid, but I think it's always better to feel stupid than end up molested, raped, or worse.
What're the chances of me being able to sleep tonight? =/
