Goddesses Meet, Talk, Bond, Fuel Up

When you’re travelling on a budget, you often find yourself staying in places of the more communal sort. Youth hostels (which are not just for the young) are a good example of this kind of accommodation. Dorm rooms are usually sex-segregated (oh jeez, have the effing trannies infiltrated those as well??? Life used to be simpler.) Some places will have a mixed dorm which is slightly cheaper – as in, if you’re a woman, you can pay less for greater access to pervs looking at you and a higher risk of being raped in your bed. Very, very occasionally, you’ll run across a women-only hostel. I stayed in the fabulous Frauenreisehaus in Christchurch, NZ years ago. Sadly, an earthquake got it and it is closed. I’ve heard rumour of a hostel with a separate women’s wing in Perth, Australia. And these are not battered women’s shelters. These are regular budget accommodations with the good sense to recognize that the world isn’t a friendly place for women travellers, especially those without much money and who are travelling solo. (I’ve written a little about the differences between men’s and women’s travel experiences before.) The energy in women-only places is different. Safe. Healthy. Conversation doesn’t revolve around the men staying there, (since there are no men) who are, for the most part just looking for a one-night stand with an anonymous, cute, young traveller. You think I exaggerate? Let me tell ya, honey. I’m an experienced traveller. I’ve seen it all. Hell, I’ve been that anonymous, cute, young traveller and I’ve heard all the lines, all the mesmerizing accents, and seen how easily hostels are mismanaged in such a way to put female travellers in grave danger and to create a fertile hunting ground for males. I’ve fantasized about running a women’s hostel of my own. Women need safe places to sleep and rest and refuel.

I’ve gotten pickier over the years as I’ve gotten older and less tolerant of danger and discomfort. I don’t earn much, but I also don’t travel much anymore, and I live an incredibly spartan lifestyle in China. So when I do travel, and I’m not staying with friends, I no longer put myself in dangerous and uncomfortable situations if I can help it. I strongly dislike sharing rooms with people, I hate bunk beds, and I don’t like being in parts of town centred in the middle of all the clubs and bars. But hostels that allow men (which is most of them), even if you splurge and get yourself a private room, can be infected with the male voice, which can grate on your brain like nails on a blackboard even if you hone your skills in tuning them out. I stayed in one place in China which seemed to have such little discretion that dangerous, woman-hating men were allowed to stay. One psychotic, Middle-Eastern nutjob walked into the common area, and unimpressed with the selection of women travellers present, shouted “Where are all the fucking bitches!?!” In the same place, the desk staff gave my room number to a nasty Australian man who was trying to follow me around and tell his boring stories to. And oh yeah, in the same place, this PUA Indian man who was trying to immigrate to my country (yes please!), after trying to get sex from me and failing, asked me if I wished I could have Asian skin, since they were much more attractive than me…

But if you can avoid the men, you do run into goddesses. I always meet a few on my travels. They are not always feminists in the way that I am. But that isn’t always the most important thing in the formation of an immediate bond. In my current location, which is infected with doods, I had a Goddess Session. This one, like all of them, happened unexpectedly. And like all of them, it was healing, gynergy-generating, insight-giving, and mutually burden-lightening. My fellow Goddess, to whom I will give credit for this post as she is the one who recognized a kindred spirit and named what was happening in the way that I have here. And while we shared only an hour of talk and emotion and non-judgment, we probably smoothed over hours and hours and even days and weeks of toxic male infiltration of our souls and beings. At the parting, she related something a friend had told her, “the road will be hard, but you will meet angels along the way.” I’m not religious/spiritual in any way, but I got the gist of it. We had just experienced evidence of the truth of the essence of this statement. And we were ready to face the day’s challenges as a result.


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Feminism, atheism and other stuff

Posted on January 28, 2016, in Feminism, Separatism and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Comments Off on Goddesses Meet, Talk, Bond, Fuel Up.

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