Vogantↄ

Being a foreigner, it can be difficult to really feel as though you belong in your community, especially in a larger town where you cannot get to know everyone. This is even truer on market days when people from all over the region convene in Vogan and I run into people I don’t even get to casually see around town. Being seen as the foreigner can be disheartening after living in a community for nearly two years, and occasionally events occur that make you feel conflicting emotions. Today I had just that occur, making today quite possibly both the best and worst day I have had in Vogan, as far as dealing with my sense of belonging here.

While running my typical errands to the market, I was harassed by a couple men I had never seen before. As I was chatting with one of the women from whom I frequently buy my vegetables, a man grabbed my arm and a second reached out to stroke me cheek. When I told them not to touch me and moved away from them, they began verbally abusing me, shouting at both me and those around me that I was a number of bad words for daring to tell them to leave me alone. For more than ten minutes the man yelled at anyone nearby about how I didn’t belong there, that I offended them, and that I was scared of a little stroke on the cheek. I chose to ignore them and continued buy my eggs, vegetables, and spices, greeting each vendor as though there wasn’t a man yelling about me just five feet away.

While I may have been working on pretending they didn’t exist, I was worried. I have had people try to touch me and shout at me, but never with such vehemence. But while I was frightened, at the same time I felt the most overpowering sense of love and belonging that it almost brought me to tears. Each of the women that work the stands told me to ignore them and let me know that they were there for me. They protected me, telling the men to leave their sister alone and to get away from their part of the market.

I couldn’t help feeling a little jumpy as I completed my shopping, but as I passed vendors shouting my name saying hello, friends shaking my hand, and a few extra sticks of soja as a gift, I knew I had nothing to worry about; these men and women were my community and they would be there for me. I always tell people that I am Vogantↄ (one from Vogan), but today I didn’t need to say anything, because by standing with me, they were the ones who told me that I really am Vogantↄ.