All Over the Map - Laura Fraser [32]
Even together, we felt threatened. We took a bus to the Red Sea, where the guidebook mentioned there were beautiful, peaceful beaches. The bus let us out in the center of a small town, with few tourists, where most of the women covered their heads with scarves. We wrapped scarves around our heads, too, so as not to attract attention or offend anyone.
After finding a little pensione, we went to the beach, a couple of miles from town, and found a nice sheltered spot near some rocks. I wanted to go for a walk, but Edie wouldn’t come along; her energy level didn’t match mine. I was tired of constantly being by her side; if I could just take a walk by myself for half an hour, I’d be content to be in her company again.
We were far from town, there was no one anywhere, so I walked vigorously along the beach, feeling free in shorts and a T-shirt, moving my limbs, stretching out after days and days of slow motion. Then up on the bluffs I noticed a figure in a djellabah. I kept on walking.
“How much for you?” he called out, and I ignored him.
“How much for you? One pound? Two pounds?” I walked faster, until I could no longer see him on the bluff.
I turned a corner, around a hill that tumbled into the sea, and there he was, down on the beach, coming toward me. “How much for you?” he asked, his mouth open and wetly pink under his thick mustache.
“Em-shee bayeed,” I replied, the only Arabic phrase I knew: get lost. He snickered.
“My husband is over there,” I said, pointing, turning to walk back.
“No husband,” he said, coming closer.
“Yes,” I said, and he grabbed my arm. “No!” I screamed and knew no one could hear.
As he began roughing my breasts, a calmness and clarity washed over me. A movie I’d seen, maybe one of those high school gym class movies about self-defense, started playing in my mind. I followed it, as in a trance. I went limp and could feel him relax his grip in response. Then I gathered up all my strength at once, an energy bolt through my body, and shoved the palm of my hand straight up his nose. He reeled back, surprised. I stepped forward and, with all my sturdy-legged force, shoved a knee into his groin. He fell down, doubling over in the sand, and I had an instant to make a decision.
I’ve always been strong but slow, good on endurance but not speed. If I ran, this lithe Egyptian would get up, follow, catch me, and that would be that. He could kill me. I looked at the waves. If I swam, I might make it. I would make it. I ran to the ocean, dived in, slipped off my shoes, untangled my shirt over my head, and swam for my life.
I swam and swam, my heart pounding in my ears, pulling with all my strength, until I dared to turn around and see if he was swimming after me, trying to catch my toes. But he was way back on the shore, back on his feet, and I could barely make out his yelling: “How much for you?”
I swam all the way back, around the outcropping, past the bluff where I had first seen the man, until finally in the far distance I could spot Edie, sunning herself. I was relieved that she was all right and angry at myself for leaving her side. When I finally stumbled out of the water, collapsing on the sand, I let go, sobbing. Edie gave me water and a reassuring arm. She screamed about the men in that country, pigs who treat women like sheep. I said I might wish the guy were dead, but it was a different culture, not a culture I’d want to live in, but I was walking alone on their sand in an outfit that had a different meaning for them, and I should’ve known. I was stupid.
We walked back to town, my bare feet bleeding by the time we arrived at the hotel. I showered, changed, and took the next bus back to Cairo, where I immediately cashed my dwindling traveler’s checks and booked a flight to a country I’d never visited, where I didn’t speak the language, but where I knew I’d feel more at home: Italy.
That experience should have made me wary. Sure, I hadn’t walked alone on the beach in a Muslim country