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Like many of my female friends, I’ve also had sex when I didn’t want to to get a persistent guy to stop pestering me. I was distracted by these thoughts on my walk home from dinner with Sarasi, hardly noticing the fruit bats swooping in and out of lush rain trees.
Yet widows are widely seen as “easy” because of their vulnerability (few men would marry a “used” woman), and white women are taunted with jeers like, “Do you like the f**king?
It would take me at least that long to walk back to my guesthouse, but I wasn’t too worried about being accosted by demons on the way. ” I asked Sarasi, a 19-year-old college student I’d met while walking around Kandy Lake in central Sri Lanka.
She’d asked me if she could practice her English with me; we spent most of the next week together.
It was Sampath and his friends chewing betel leaf and passing around a bottle of arrack, Sri Lanka’s dangerously smooth coconut liquor.
As Sampath served me tea the next morning, he said, “I wanted to invite you to join us yesterday, but I know my friends try to hug you and kiss you. Men here, they see a white girl, they think bad things.” He scrunched up his nose.The problem with this dichotomous thinking became clear when I decided to treat myself to a massage.