A man in the bank that I went to last Wednesday afternoon for a quick errand asked for my mobile number. In my mind, I said “What the heck?” but I just told him, “Sorry, I don’t give out my number.” He wasn’t impolite, nor was he creepy, but it was absurd.

This incident brings to mind an incident last December when a driver of a ride-hailing app asked for my number and several instances in Paris during my foreign assignment there, when I was asked for a number or even asked out for a date by strangers while I was out alone for a walk, buying hats in the street market or shoes in a shop, in a photo studio, or waiting for my work colleague outside her apartment building. This baffled me as I pretty much minded my own business and errands and wasn’t looking or dressing for attention.

This led to more musings on experiences that aren’t so pleasant and I think women are more prone to because of their femaleness.

In the past years when I was still in my previous career as a teacher and I almost always used public transportation, I’ve had some incidents when I experienced some form of harrassment, which may be mild compared to what others encountered but still, something I wouldn’t want any woman to experience — in the fx, in the MRT, jeepney.

In an FX ride then, I was in the front seat when the driver intentionally touched my left thigh with his fingertips while he grasped the stick shift. At first, I thought it was unintentional, but when it happened the 2nd, 3rd, 4th time, I looked sideways at him. He looked uneasy with some beads of sweat on his right sideburn and above his upper lip. I glared at him and he moved away his hands and his fingertips from my thigh.

Two other times, also in an FX taxi, I was seated in the middle in both instances (and if you have seen or ridden in one in Manila), you’d know that the middle seat can comfortably accommodate 2-3 people or if 4, then all must be slim or average-sized, otherwise, all will be squeezed the entire ride unless someone sacrifices comfort by sitting forward). While plying the route to QC, the man beside me moved his elbow and intentionally touched my side boob. Similar case as the driver I mentioned previously, at first I thought it was accidental but it became obvious. Since there were only three of us in the middle that time, I moved a bit farther from him.

In another instance, we were four in the middle; I was in the leftmost (seat by the window behind the driver). I came from school; it was already evening and I was tired. Few minutes into the ride, my right waist felt ticklish, light at first then it became more obvious — the man beside me was moving his left elbow in the pretense of adjusting his SM plastic bag repeatedly instead of just leaving it on the floor. I was exhausted from work and wasn’t willing to take any bullshit so my emotions shift–from realization that I was being harrassed, to fright, to anger– was so quick that I flicked my right shoulder blade forcefully towards him and shouted “Yung siko mo! Ayusin mo!” He mumbled in a voice just a little above a whisper “Kung ayaw mo masikipan, magtaxi ka” and inched a bit forward and did not anymore touch my side with his elbow.

Another incident that is still fresh in my mind although it occurred when I was 21, many years before the other incidents I previously mentioned and the one that I felt the most feisty was when I was riding a jeepney. Since it was late and I didn’t have a companion (there were handful of people seated near the jeep’s entrance/exit), I chose the seat behind the driver. We were plying Taft Avenue when a drunk man with longish hair, in his mid-50’s I think, wearing canvas pants and dirty white sando came in the jeep. Of all the available space, he chose to sit beside me, at first with a 12-inch space. I was looking at him not directly but in my peripheral vision. Then he slowly moved closer, held the bar at the top of the metal division separating the driver’s area and the passengers, thereby trapping me with his sweaty arm.

My reaction was instant. I felt anger surge through me that before I thought of what to do, I grasped his wrist forcefully with my right hand and flung his arm away with all my might, almost hitting him. He was taken aback and moved away. Looking back, I understood why I reacted like that. I already knew then that I was about 2-3 months pregnant (although my family didn’t know yet at that time) and I felt so protective of the baby inside my womb.

In another instance, in a previous workplace where we occupied an old building along Espana, an elderly guard offered to help me carry some items to my floor. I can’t recall anymore what those items were but they were in a big, striped white and pink plastic bag. In the elevator where there were only the two of us that time, the man brazenly held and squeezed my hand that was holding the plastic bag as I was getting off on my floor. I shot him a puzzled look, got off. From that time own, I’d feel awkward when I entered the building, sometimes nodding at him civilly. For some reasons, I never did mention what happened to my boss or even to my fellow female teachers, dismissing it as a insignificant experience.

I suddenly recalled a “different” experience, because it was not a man who was a culprit, but a woman. I was riding the MRT then. It was not that crowded but since all the seats were filled, I stood and held the the handrail/post. The something weird happened. The woman (white shirt, shorts, with hair tied in pony tail) beside me moved her hand and touched mine. I moved my hand a bit lower. Then she moved her hand lower too and touched my knuckels with her fingertips. I was surprised and I saw her grinning when I looked at her. I moved away.

I realized that in my circle, harrassment is not something we openly or deeply discuss, just as a mention in a conversation often expressed in annoyance like “Nakakainis yung lalaki kanina!” or something like that. An acquaintance mentioned that she was stalked and harrassed in the past but we didn’t discuss the details; a high school friend (one with a face like a doll) mentioned that she once left a job because her superior showed her his private part; my younger sister shared an incident in her college days when a man near the jeep’s entrance/exit touched her butt as she was alighting while pretending to be concerned of her safety, saying “Ingat ha!” In one scenario, when we were walking from our place along the South Super Highway in San Andres Bukid to the main road, a man riding a bike suddenly touched her boob and sped off, surrprising both of us. I tried to hit the man with my umbrella but I barely hit his back because he pedalled away quickly. My sis and I looked at each other asking wordlessly if she’s okay then we shrugged off the incident.

I feel that, even though I’m still not afraid of venturing out alone, this awareness of possible danger and the need to protect oneself, partly affected my behavior. When I was in a street shop in Barcelona and realizing that I suddenly could not open the door of the fitting room from the inside, I panicked for a few seconds and tried to be make all my senses active. (That may be an overreaction as my female friend was also checking the items in the same shop, but I couldn’t help it that time; I also briefly mentioned this in a separate blog entry about my Barcelona experience)

Also, when I was in Paris walking back to my apartment building towards midnight, I saw two men checking the contents of the big garbage bin that was placed a few feet from the door. My initial thought of giving the 10 euro bill from my pocket changed into fright when I got nearer and saw that they were able-bodied men and I rushed to punch the 4-digit code at the side of the heavy door. Recently, I jogged at night in an area outside our subdivision just a few weeks ago, I made sure to bring a whistle and a retractable pen attached to the right waistband of my shorts “just in case.”

What’s the proper thing to do actually in harassment cases even if they were little incidents? Make a scene? Report at once to the police or at first to the security division of your Office? What could have I done differently in the previous situations?

Now that we are in the digital age, I have noticed that it’s easier to call out harassment because of social media. One can get support from a large number of people, even strangers and netizens, when one posts about these experiences. I also noticed that people have become more aware of the risks as evidenced by LGU ordinances, trainings by the Philippine Commission on Women (PCW) or police offices’ reminders for people to be vigilant. In the Philippines, several laws address this concern: Republic Act 7877 or the Anti-Sexual Harrassment Act of 1995, Republic Act Number 9262 or the “Anti-Violence Against Women and Their Children Act of 2004” and so on. Companies and government agencies are also conducting GAD trainings and sexual harasssment awareness for their employees.

It would also be useful to know the hotlines for assistance, aside from the numbers here, but also the emergency numbers in your barangay/town/city. It would be a good investment for women to take self-defense training. It should be part of the curriculum to educate children and students about taking care of their bodies and stopping any form of harassment or abuse.

I have more to write, perhaps a part 2 next time, but I’m tired writing now. 😦 To the women reading this, please be aware. Be vigilant. Help your fellow women in need. But despite some possible risks, still find time to go out on your own and with friends/families. It is also not healthy to one’s well-being to be constantly afraid or overly cautious. And to the men, please be mindful of your actions; please help in creating a safe and prejudice-free environment for women, children and your fellow men.

Author’s Notes:

The experiences I mentioned are real accounts.

Asking mobile numbers are not as serious as the other incidents I mentioned but they may still be a risk. I wonder if men also encounter such. Possibly yes, but in a lesser extent.

In those times that I experienced the incidents, I realized that I still could remember what I wore: a white-blue teal dress in the bank, cream slacks and a fitted animal-printed blouse in the FX (1), black slacks and 3/4 sleeved polo with dainty mint green prints in the FX (2), brown floral dress in Barcelona, and blue denim skirt and white blouse in the jeepney (incident with the drunk man) So, it’s not in the dress. It’s the misfortune of encountering a pervert.

There have been numerous cases of harrassment experienced by the LGBTQA+ community due to the perpetrators’ ignorance, prejudice or simply evil nature. There should be clearer laws to protect them too.

There was a rise of domestic violence during the pandemic. These should be addressed by the community/police force/government.