Third Quarterly Report

This is my final quarterly report!  The next time I interact with Watson HQ it will be at Rhodes for the conference.  I can't believe this.  I can't believe it has been nine months already.  Time is passing so quickly now and in just a few short months I head to Canada for my final stop before returning home. 

Below is my third quarterly report, sent off to the Watson Foundation as a summary of my months in India and my transition to South Africa. 

To the Watson Foundation,

Hello from Cape Town! 

I arrived here a few weeks ago, but when I last wrote from Delhi, the Indian Supreme Court had just issued its ruling on Section 377.  The ruling reaffirmed the validity of 377, the piece of Indian code originally introduced by the British that criminalizes any "unnatural" sexual acts.  In theory this would apply universally to heterosexual and same-sex couples engaging in anything other than procreative sex but in reality it is clear that the intention of the law is to effectively criminalize same-sex relationships. 

Being in India during and after the ruling was such an educational experience.  Every week there were protests and meetings about how to proceed or how to challenge the ruling, and I was able to attend a variety of discussions throughout the city, including a national meeting held in Delhi and attended by activists and community members from across the country.  While the intention of the ruling seemed to be to shame same-sex and non-traditional couples, it brought many queer people and their allies out of the closets and into the streets.  

The privilege of witnessing queer India rise up and fight against the 377 decision is difficult to articulate.  Friends dressed in black with rainbow bandanas, belts, and arm bands distributed leaflets and told their stories. Groups marched and gathered throughout Delhi and around the country.  At Mumbai Pride, the first celebration since the ruling, there was a huge turnout, and I was so shocked and excited to see the mass of people stretching further and further back as we walked the streets.  Being able to watch the community mobilize and to listen to the conversation and attend the meetings and marches that accompanied this mobilization taught me so much about the strength, energy, bravery, and determination behind a social movement and protest like the one happening in India now.  I was able to listen to some of the major debates, about everything from how to support and include people of every socioeconomic status to which language should be spoken at meetings that included multiple regions to whether or not there was an imperative to speak against a major political party, which had many supporters in the queer community prior to 377, because the party supported the ruling and spoke against queer rights.

In between meetings and marches related to 377, I spent time at TARSHI (Talking about Reproductive and Sexual Health Issues).  I loved working in that office.  The work that they are doing is so important and the opportunity to learn from them was fantastic in itself.  On top of that, the people who work at TARSHI are incredibly intelligent, progressive, and kind and talking over lunch with such an amazing group of people was a highlight of my day.  My last day at TARSHI was really sad for me.  All of the people, the things they taught me, and the conversations we had remain with me; the office also gave me a gorgeous gold ship bookmark that is carrying me forward on my journey.  

In addition to work with TARSHI and 377-related activity, I attended meetings of an LGBT social group and spent time with many of its members regularly.  I found a strong community of people in Delhi, for which I was extremely grateful.  Between the queer community I met through pride, 377 events, and the social group, everyone at TARSHI, and the unbelievably generous group of people, mostly Fulbrights, that had me for Thanksgiving dinner just a few days after I arrived in the city, I had a strong support network and was able to learn so much about queer life in Delhi and in India.  Through more structured interviews and through everyday conversation, I heard a variety of stories and opinions about coming out, relationships, and thoughts on being queer in India since the Supreme Court decision. 

Although I spent most of my three months in Delhi, there were some fabulous side trips as well.  Three friends took me with them on a pilgrimage to Mathura and Vrindavan, sacred sites in the life of Krishna, and I went with them to various temples, dancing with a really nice family at one aarti and learning how to offer prasad at a temple famous for the magical eyes of the deity.  Vinay, Abishek, and Chitrang introduced me to a ton of delicious street food (I miss Indian food so much) and sent me home with a statue of Krishna in his childhood.  We also went together to the Taj Mahal.  I visited Varanasi and met some new people via a Queer Couchsurfers group.  We ended up back in Delhi together at a 377 protest.  I also made a trip to Rishikesh and Haridwar and, in a very small world moment, met a friend of a friend from Delhi on the street and spent the afternoon with him and his wife and friends.  

My last three weeks were spent in Mumbai where I attended Pride and some of the events leading up to the parade as well as a performance of the Vagina Monologues, which was a really interesting experience.  I have been a part of the show at home for the last few years and seeing the show in an Indian context made clear how much of it is, as one friend put it afterward, "really American."  Mumbai Pride was much bigger than I had anticipated and there were several after parties and a week's worth of events leading up to the march, including a great short film screening and a sort of open-mic night that showcased all kinds of Indian performers.  Mumbai also brought a visitor from home; Mimi, one of my best friends and college roommates, came to visit.  It was so good to see her. 

So much of India was beyond description.  I already miss the friends I made there and I learned something new every day.  At the same time, India was without a doubt the most challenging place I have been so far.  There were cultural differences that I anticipated but there were many conflicts and interactions that I did not.  These ranged from the practical, like finding safe and clean housing, to the extremely personal.  I became hyper-aware of my gender presentation.  Because so many things in India are gender-segregated and because I am somewhat masculine in appearance, I regularly dealt with questions bordering on harassment as I tried to enter the metro or train through the women's security or even just walking down the street.  I identify as butch and am comfortable falling somewhere in between normal standards of feminine and masculine appearance, but it has never been the case that this presentation has made me stand out in the way that it did in India.  I have never considered myself gender non-comforming, but now I do.  These interactions regarding my gender have made me think about gender and physical presentation in a whole new way, and I am still working through my thoughts.  One way of doing this has been writing; I had a piece published by a queer blog in India and have found writing to be an important outlet for working through various personal and political issues (not that they can be separated).  

Living in India also made me aware of poverty and urban development in ways that I had never been before this year. I will never again take things like potable water and reliable electricity for granted. There is a serious concern in Delhi about women's safety and when I was not with friends, it was not uncommon to experience harassment.  I was told by my landlords, roommates, and friends to avoid walking at night, even the very short distance between the metro and my apartment. There was one particularly scary experience, where a car stopped beside me at the metro and, when I declined a ride, followed me in an auto for a bit, that made me totally sure that following the advice of my friends about walking alone at night was a great idea.  I was sick so regularly that it became a normal part of life.  (In fact, I brought a bacterial infection with me to Cape Town but a doctor's visit and lots of antibiotics fixed it for good.)  I also had a number of housing issues that led to me hopping around the city quite a bit.  Still all of these things were important learning experiences and I am grateful for the new perspective and for the ways that I was challenged and pushed to find new solutions or confront totally foreign situations.  

A few weeks ago I said goodbye to India and arrived in Cape Town, where I found a happy and unexpected home in a local hostel and an internship at Gender DynamiX, a non-profit working on queer issues, with an emphasis on transgender and intersex issues, something that has come to be much more personal to me since India.   The city is without a doubt the most beautiful place I have ever been and just walking outside seems too good to be true.  

Cape Town Pride was smaller than I anticipated and gave me a chance to speak to many groups and also to ask about some of the tensions here in the community, including many built around race and gender (the parade is often seen as very white and very male).  Additionally, with the recent legislation criminalizing same-sex relationships and queer identity in Uganda and Nigeria, there are a number of important conversations happening here about how to react and support queer Africans.  I am privileged to be able to listen to these conversations and am still working through how to be supportive without overstepping my bounds as a visitor.  

Overall, the past three months have been some of the most challenging but also some of the most formative and impactful of my Watson year so far.  I am a different person than the one who left Memphis nine months ago and I feel that regularly.  I continue to be amazed every day by the people and organizations working under the banner of queer rights and am hoping to stay, as one of my favorite English teachers recommended, a sponge ready to absorb and try to process as much as possible in the beautiful and complicated world around me. 

All the best from South Africa,

Sarah Holland Bacot 

Quarterly Report One

I can't believe that it's already time for the first quarterly report.  Every three months, I send the Watson Foundation a few pages about what I've been doing and what I've learned so far.  They ask us to think of it as a "long letter home."  It was hard to fit everything into a small space, and I'm so grateful for that.

As I go forward into the next quarter, I have made a few promises to myself.  First of all, I will stop applying the systems of evaluation that I learned to use in my life at Rhodes to this experience.  The need for a serious amount of stress as an indicator of success is not only not the healthiest thing, it's also counterproductive to embracing the best parts of this year, which I have found live in the moment instead of the long-term plan or schedule.

I am going to stop being scared of failing and start doing things that I know I enjoy, trusting that I can pursue my project successfully and be flexible.  I am going to keep exploring and listening and asking questions.

This is, of course, is easier said than done, so if y'all can help keep me in check when possible, it would be much appreciated.

So, with that, here's my letter to the Watson Foundation about the past three months and every new, scary, and beautiful moment or experience I could fit into this space.

Thanks to everyone who made the past three months what they were.


Hello from Argentina!  Although I've officially begun the second leg of my journey here in South America, I should start at the beginning, with beautiful Warsaw and the amazing people there.

Boarding the plane in Memphis, I was a jumble of emotions, so ready and excited to begin but also overwhelmed and despite lots of research, entirely unsure of what my life would be for the next year.

It seemed like the Equality March, the official name of Warsaw Pride, would be a great way to dive into my project and introduce myself to the LGBT community.  On my third real day in the city, I headed to the beginning of the route.  Unfortunately, in my first Watson year lesson in language barriers and in the frailty of the best laid plans, I barely missed the parade due to something lost in translation.

This was extremely disappointing, but one of the big lessons I'm learning so far is to work with the reality instead of planning everything around an idea.  I was able to follow the route after the parade and see the sites most important to the marchers, to feel the presence of the huge number of police officers and witness the protesters who remained, and most importantly, to see openly affectionate LGBT couples, an older woman proudly waving her rainbow flag, groups of friends with painted faces and rainbow bracelets.  Nervous and unfamiliar with the city, the happy and open people made me feel at home and guided me into my project.  

Shortly after Pride, I met with Slava, who is the Office Manager and a Project Coordinator at the Campaign Against Homophobia (KPH), which is the major gay rights organization in Warsaw and the place where I spent many of my afternoons over the past three months.  The situation for LGBT people in Poland is not what it should be, and there are no real protections beyond basic workplace protection mandated by the EU. At the KPH, they work to change law and policy, with specific attention to hate crimes and sexual education at the moment, and to raise awareness.  Everyone at the KPH has what someone in an interview called an "activist's soul," and they could not have been more welcoming or open. They helped me to find little ways to help out that related to my Watson.  

Days in Warsaw were filled with time at the KPH and explorations of the city.  There is not a specific gay-friendly neighborhood in Warsaw, so there were nooks and shops and areas to find everywhere.  Looking for these places raised new questions and made me think about the importance of space in relation to identity and community, an idea that I hope to continue to explore here in Argentina. Slava also introduced me to gay and gay-friendly night life in Warsaw, coming to get me at the Metro when I was lost and connecting me to many people, all of whom were similarly open and friendly.  I found a favorite grocery store close to my little apartment, a walking path and bus route that worked, a coffee shop where a gay couple might hold hands (and where "Walking in Memphis" was regularly on the playlist).  I explored Lazienki Park, just about a mile from my apartment, and on Sunday afternoons wandered to the Chopin Monument to see the piano concert open to everyone in the city.   Warsaw is beautiful, nothing like the vague, gray picture in my head before the plane landed, and it was a privilege to be able to walk through two parks to get to the KPH and sit outside to read and write.  It was a privilege to live in the city, generally, and to be able to get to know the people who live and work for change there.

During my time in Poland, I learned from the pursuit of my project, from people and cities, and from the experience of the Watson as a year of solo travel, none of which can really be separated from the other.

The feelings of community that I experienced on the day of the Equality Parade in Warsaw and on short trips to Berlin and Prague for other Pride celebrations reinforced for me the importance of visibility.  At this moment, I have no doubt that Pride is extremely important as a site of solidarity, but I do have growing questions about the impact of the commercialization of the celebration and what it means to drop political posters in favor of Easy Jet floats.  

In both formal sit-down interviews and informal conversation, the activists at the KPH frankly discussed their own lives and thoughts on the community and the movement for change.  These discussions, combined with conversations around Warsaw, brought me face to face with the everyday bravery that many people nonchalantly wrote off in their own lives.  Almost everyone spoke about verbal, and occasionally physical, harassment as a fact of life. This is not to say that it didn't make them angry or push them to change society and the law, but that when I asked about what it was like to live in Warsaw, the response was generally that it was great, but a certain amount of harassment was expected anywhere.

Reflecting on whether or not I would allow for the same in a description of what it is to be gay in Memphis again raised questions about the extent to which sexual orientation or gender identity can serve as a tie between individuals.  There are lots of things that we share and experiences, like coming out or going to Pride, that make stories that can in some ways reach across social and cultural gaps.  The unbelievable generosity from everyone in Poland made me feel at home but did not change the fact that ultimately, I did not live with the same struggles.  It's my continued goal to find commonalities and still remember my position as a guest, my own privilege, and the importance of the differences in our experiences.

I spent a lot of time alone without being lonely and learned how to sit on a bus, walk down the street, or make dinner in peaceful silence.  I felt the benefits of being disconnected, without texts or great internet access.  There was a moment when I fought the urge to let my hair grow out.  To explain: cutting off eleven inches of hair was a personal transformation and a sign of accepting myself and a butch identity.  It was also, of course, the result of an extremely supportive community to help along the way. That moment outside the door of the barbershop in Warsaw was a refusal to hide again, even alone in a new place.

Of course not every moment was so triumphant.  I struggled with loneliness and missed my family, friends, and girlfriend.  I had a breakdown and consequently, a realization that the way I had been programmed to understand success and progress for most of my life would not cut it during this year; I've made a promise to spend the next nine months fighting the urge to make success and stress dependent upon each other and to embrace the freedom that this year offers.      

The flight from Poland to Buenos Aires landed just more than a week ago, and so far, things have been wonderful.  In the first few days, I met Saulo, who is part of a group in Buenos Aires called Gay Geeks, which has several hundred members throughout the city.  He welcomed me to the group and invited me to participate in the various events that they coordinate each month.  I've found an apartment in the city, but it won't be ready for another ten days, so in the meantime, I decided to explore queer community in other parts of the country.  After two days walking through Iguazu National Park, which was the most beautiful place I have ever seen, I began the bus journey westward.  Currently I'm in Cordoba, which is the second largest city and home to a large population of university students.  After reading an article about the budding LGBT life here, I thought it would be a good place to spend some time, and in an excellent stroke of luck, a friend of a friend from home, Sydney, is here with her boyfriend, Marco, whose mother works in sexual education.  Lizi spoke with me at length about issues of sex and sexuality in Cordoba and Argentina as a whole and provided me with some great contacts working on these issues.  I was able to speak with a trans woman about her relationship and her thoughts on Cordoba (Psh! Buenos Aires! Psh! Cordoba is much better!), and Sydney, an excellent sport, became part of a drag show in a local gay bar.

It's difficult to believe that this year is real, and sometimes walking down the street, I get a goofy face just thinking about it.  Thank you, so much, for these opportunities and for that goofy-faced person, for pushing me to move out of my comfort zone and to question and explore in a deeper way this thing that has been a driving force in my life for so long.  Thank you for the past three months and for the chance to keep going for another nine.


Un abrazo,

Sarah  

 

With the fabulous Slava at the KPH office





With a few of the lovely people at the KPH





With Robert Biedroń, a founder of the KPH and the first openly gay Member of Polish Parliament.  He was nice enough to sit down and talk to me about his work in activism.





At Plac Zbawiciela (aka Savior Square, Hipster Square, Rainbow Square), which is home to many gay-friendly bars, cafes, and restaurants.  Although the rainbow is meant to be a sign of peace and tolerance, it's seen as a symbol of the LGBT community and has been burned multiple times.  Although volunteers always put it back together, only about a third of it was left when this photo was taken, just a few weeks after the last attempt to burn it.  





With Thaddeus, a friend I met in Warsaw who studied in Berlin, at Christopher Street Day, the official name for Berlin Pride




        
At Garganta del Diablo (the Devil's Throat) in Iguazu National Park.  It was overwhelmingly beautiful.  





One of the many rainbows at Iguazu.  A great start (and I'll take it as a good omen) to the beginning of my time in Argentina.