Here in Malta

This story was published on May 23rd 2019. It was written by Anya (2018–2020 Cohort)

Here in Malta, the sun is bright, and the cranes are high.

Building, building everywhere,

And little caged birds whistling.

Bright blue water, and the men who call to me.

But to them I don’t have a name.

When I was twelve, my mom was outraged, and deleted one of her online dating accounts. I showed her that one of her matches commented “sexy body” on my MySpace picture. I think that’s the first memory I have of an older (much older) man objectifying me.

My first-time abroad, catcalling was something I romanticized.

“I’m getting all this attention!”

“I must be beautiful,” but why did I think like that?

I’m sure there were a lot of reasons…

Experiences, some not so nice, made me more callus. I also learned to like myself, and to respect myself, which made it harder to endure the calls.

I have a few examples from Malta. Ones that made my skin crawl:

~Almost every day going to the grocery store, but one time in particular stuck, because the calling all came at once. Men covered in half-dry cement, eating sandwiches. Maybe ten of them. Slurping, chirping, and calling out to me. Like most times, I ignored them.

~Another time from above; high on a crane. Whistles, calls, but I just walked straight. It happened for a good few minutes. I few minutes of feeling disgusting- why did I feel disgusting?

~Once before yoga, Kate and I walked across the road to the promenade, and I could feel eyes behind me. A deep, focused stare from the man next to us, mumbling something obscene.

“Do you mind?” said Kate.

He smiled, shrugged, and kept staring.

~Just today, on the way back from yoga, Kate and I walked full of falafel with a view of yachts.

“Hi”

“Hi”

“Hello”

“Hi”

Click Click Whistle

Those young guys were turned to us.

As I looked back, a phone camera followed us, moving, lowering, capturing us up and down.

Yelling only made them laugh more.

Is it alarming that these examples are some of the softer ones?

Through the hope, the beauty, and the color that Malta has brought to me, it still feels strange to walk alone.