I saw a penis today

As the title entails, yes! It finally happened! But not under the circumstances I prefer. Those preferred circumstances being: in an obscene drawing of Tom Petty doing the reverse kegels, or perhaps for a brief moment in a Bengali song, or maybe even as a service I would've gladly paid for. But nope! Not any of the above. Thanks to Habesha men, it was just on the streets of Addis, on a random Tuesday, after my grandmother's wake. Which makes me wonder, maybe she wanted this. She always told me not to look a man in his eyes, that it was disrespectful and not ladylike. So, what other options were there, really?

For lucky me, the lone circumstance that fell into my lap, or into my eyes, shall I say, like a quirky gift from the universe, was men and public urination. Peeing on the street should be one of our cultural assets by now, and it has not been a surprising event for any of us living here. Though I am not sure how much of an asset it can be when a random dog can do the said task, perhaps in a more courteous manner, a manner that doesn't involve having to remove a set of clothes together with their consciousness. But...I respected them regardless, not referring to the dogs but rather 'thee dawgs,' which is our men, and mainly their private parts. For what it's worth, I at least thought it was something sacred. Anything that is worth having pants for is private and something saved for a secret handshake that the public shouldn't be a part of. In short, it's for a members only spectacle. I also think one of the charms of having naughty bits is the fact that you can hide them and be embarrassed by their existence. That is, up until sixth grade, which is when your mom will have 'the talk' with you, the 'she will not bathe you anymore, so suddenly now you have to awkwardly deal with your body and try not to drown in soap' talk. But this will all happen well after being potty trained for many, many excruciating years. So, you can understand my frustration when the streets have become a urination station, and I could've been a part of it if I only wasn't forcefully fed manners instead of Choco Pops as a toddler.

Tunneling back to the story, I have always wondered why we were never curious to take a peek when the men in question are taking a leak. And as for why we, as women, never seized the opportunity of looking at it, the grand lizard that it is, what baffles me more is that it is free, and perhaps we can take a glance without any pertaining consequences. What are they gonna do? Throw punches mid-peeing? No!... Maybe?

The answer for me, and for the sake of our collective dignity, what I hope the answer is for everyone, is that we know peeing is something done in the secret vicinity of your 15-square-foot bathroom, even though, for some odd reason, 50 percent of the population refuses to acknowledge it. And that's the only decent reason as to why I had not looked in their direction.

Today, for some strange reason, I had to break the cycle. Because why is the sight of orange pee more shocking to me than someone proudly displaying their whole downstairs? This had to be resolved. So, I did it! I looked at it! I objectified a man successfully and walked away without even taking a glance at the guy because that's what my grandma would've wanted. And never have I felt more like a feminist, not in a sense of 'hey, empowerment!' but more of 'hey, I need to tell this to someone! Preferably a woman.'

Now, I don't know how I got tangled up in this thought process or why I have embarked upon it. Is it because I cannot comprehend people's death, so I just cower into making meaningless rants like this? I wouldn't know. But what I am sure of is that I wanted my bravery to be rewarded, maybe by the satisfaction of having lewd or profane thoughts about what I have seen. But no! What I forgot is that I, in fact, am a woman. And like any other uterus-inclusive species, I am not amazed by the mere presence of a man or his penis.