Friday, 14 October 2016

 14:34:00         4 comments

 STOP VIOLENTEI...DESTUL E DESTUL!

STOP, VIOLENTEI,

Aveam vreo 14 ani si parinti deschisi la minte, dar si la usa casei. Pentru ca la noi usa de la intrare nu se inchidea cu adevarat niciodata. Toti vecinii sau prietenii, la bine si la greu, gaseau la noi alinare si refugiu. Intr-o noapte, pe la ora 22, ora tarzie pe vremea aceea, cand viata de noapte practic nu exista in Bucuresti, cel putin nu pentru oamenii de rand, auzim batai disperate in usa. 
Merg impreuna cu mama sa deschidem si o vedem pe vecina din blocul de alaturi – nici macar o foarte buna prietena – in halat de casa, disperata,  cu parul ravasit, plina de sange, plangand in hohote. Eu am ramas blocata, nici nu stiam ce sa cred. Mama mea in schimb, femeie cu experienta de viata si o multime de prieteni, si-a dat seama imediat despre ce este vorba. A luat-o in casa, a linistit-o, a incercat sa o intrebe cum  s-au petrecut lucrurile. Printre lacrimi, ne-a explicat ca fusese atacata…in casa ei, de sotul ei, pentru nu stiu ce motiv prostesc. Niciun vecin din blocul ei nu-i deschisese usa, nimeni nu sarise in apararea ei. Era aproape firesc sa ia bataie din cand in cand si nu era treaba nimanui sa “se bage” in familia altuia. Daca o batea, stia el de ce o bate! Venise la mama pentru ca stia ce fel de persoana este! Stia ca mama si tata ar fi primit-o oricand si poate ca ar fi luat si atitudine. Si asa a si fost. Am gazduit-o pana dimineata, cand “nebunul” a plecat la serviciu. Atunci a putut sa revina acasa, s-a schimbat si a plecat la serviciu. Plina de vanatai, cu buza sparta si nedormita. Numai buna de facut performanta profesionala!!!!!! Si nu era singura! Stiam de la mama ce se intampla in multe familii, pentru ca parintii mei imi povesteau mult de-ale vietii, asta ca sa stiu la ce sa ma astept, sa nu am surprize si sa ma feresc atat cat de mult pot. Adevaruri dureroase, ascunse si suportate pentru ca presiunea sociala si culturala de a ramane impreuna cu sotul erau piedici greu de depasit! 

Pe vremurile acelea, in care siguranta materiala nu reprezenta mare lucru – eram toti la fel de bogati sau de saraci, ai mei imi tot spuneau ca trebuie, CA TREBUIE sa invat. Acesta era scopul suprem. Ca fata fara zestre(1) din celebra piesa de teatru este fata fara studii si ca, daca doream sa am independenta, sa plec fara sa ma uit in urma si sa nu indur nimic din ce nu voiam sa indur, trebuia sa invat si sa fiu buna, foarte buna in ceea ce fac. Oricum, ei, parintii mei, mi-ar fi luat apararea in orice situatie! Lucru rar, de altfel, si atunci, dar din pacate, si acum.
Vecina noastra batuta de sot nu era o raritate, iar parintii mei discutau deschis despre astfel de lucruri, de obicei, pentru ca doreau sa ajute. Mama prietenelor mele bune, tot vecine, se pare ca era mereu abuzata sau cel putin amenintata. Nu o vazusem niciodata cu vanatai sau alte semne vizibile, dar nu iesea din cuvantul sotului, casa ei arata ca un supermarket modern la inaugurare – totul era “la linie”, fara un fir de praf. Ceea ce insa uimea copilul din mine era faptul ca in acea casa in care traiau doua fetite putin mai mari decat mine, nu exista nicio jucarie…cu exceptia unei papusi frumos imbracate, care statea neatinsa, pe un fotoliu, pe post de decor. Mama prietenelor mele era casnica – pana sa le cunosc pe ele nici nu stiam prea bine ce inseamna acest lucru si deci, era total dependenta financiar de sotul ei, care o adusese de la tara la Bucuresti si facuse din ea “o doamna”. Asa ca…tacea si rabda…
Mai aveam pe atunci doua bune prietene, tot mai mari decat mine, care locuiau intr-un sat in care imi petreceam vacantele de vara. Le iubeam nespus si le admiram, mai ales ca erau “mai mari”. Ma uitam la ele ca la niste modele de viata! La un moment dat, crescand, am incetat sa mai merg acolo in vacanta si nu prea am mai tinut legatura. Ne mai scriam din cand in cand, dar nefiind mijloacele de comunicare atat de la indemana ca in zilele noastre, nu prea aflam multe despre ele. In acea zona nici macar nu exista telefon, decat la oficiul postal! Din cand in cand mai mergea bunica in vizita si imi mai aducea vesti despre ele. O data, bunica s-a intors cam suparata si atunci cand am intrebat-o daca a mai aflat ceva despre prietenele mele, mi-a spus cu regret in glas: “Petruta a nimerit bine, s-a casatorit cu un baiat bun, dar Cami…Cami saraca ia bataie tot timpul, are un sot groaznic de gelos!”. Am simtit ca tocmai am luat un pumn in stomac, lacrimile mi se ingramadisera in gat si in ochi atat de multe incat nu mai puteam vorbi – Cami era preferata mea! Iar mama a intrebat-o pe bunica de ce nu merge tatal lui Cami peste nebun, sa-l ia de gat? Iar bunica i-a raspuns: “Asa, si ce sa faca? Sa o ia acasa?”. Adica aceasta solutie nu exista! Te-ai maritat, dusa esti, fie ce-o fi! Ai “nimerit” bine, norocul tau! Daca nu, asta e, te descurci, e treaba ta, tu l-ai ales!
Iar pe atunci(2), chiar nu iti sarea nimeni in ajutor! Daca parintii nu te sustineau, nu te aparau si nu te luau inapoi acasa, daca tu insati nu aveai independenta financiara si destula tarie de caracter sa iei viata de la capat singura, nu era nimeni, absolut nimeni care sa fi putut sau sa fi vrut sa-ti ia apararea sau sa te ajute! Era treaba de familie! Exista oricum certitudinea ca, daca te bate, sigur are motive sa o faca! Era de datoria femeii sa gaseasca modalitati de supravietuire in astfel de situatii!
Din pacate, lucrurile nu sunt foarte diferite in zilele noastre. Femeile laolalta cu copiii lor iau bataie de la soti, in propriile lor case, si foarte rar intervine cineva. Iar mentalitatea este mereu aceeasi: sigur a facut ea ceva, ca doar n-o bate degeaba! Si in felul acesta ajungem la niste statistici infioratoare!
Partea buna este ca in zilele noastre exista moduri in care victimele pot fi ajutate, de organizatii specializate(3) si de catre politie. Exista si legislatie in domeniu(4), precum si o multime de oameni care lupta zi de zi pentru ca legislatia sa se imbunatateasca, iar aceste femei sa fie ajutate, sa vada lumina zilei, sa-si continue viata frumos!
Partea proasta este ca multe dintre aceste femei nu stiu la cine sa apeleze, nu stiu ca pot fi ajutate, ca sunt indreptatite sa ceara ajutor! Si din pacate, coplesite si disperate, apeleaza la crima pentru ca nu mai pot rabda!(5)
Oameni buni, femeile nu sunt OBIECTE! Nu sunt masini de spalat, fabrici de copii sau de facut sex! Sunt fiinte umane, pline de lumina, de bunatate si de culoare! Si mai presus de orice, sunt cele pe care Dumnezeu si natura le-au investit sa aduca viata pe pamant. Sunt fiintele care pot sa spuna cum este sa simti, la propriu, ca in tine bat 2, 3 sau mai multe inimi simultan. Sunt acelea care pot hrani oameni din propriul lor trup, aducand in acelsi timp bucurie, alinare si hrana unor fiinte mici si neajutorate. Tot ele sunt acelea care se zbat ani de zile pana fac oameni mari din aceste fiinte mici. Si pentru tot ceea ce sunt si fac ele, femeile merita tot respectul nostru, al tuturor. Pentru ca TOTI, dar absolut toti provenim din femei!
Pentru ele si pentru linistea vietii lor, maine, 15 octombrie 2016, are loc Marsul “Impreuna pentru siguranta femeilor!” Pentru ca femeile trebuie sa fie in siguranta acasa, pe strada, la locul de munca, in scoli si universitati, oriunde le-ar purta pasii!  https://www.facebook.com/events/1683301398652757/ 
Num─ârul la care pot apela victimele violentei domestice este 0800 500 333, o linie telefonica gratuita, la care operatorii raspund non-stop.

2 -  inainte de 1989, in timpul dictaturii totalitare a lui Nicolae Ceausescu
5 - http://www.necuvinte.ro/proiecte-curente/campania-aripi-frante/


ENGLISH VERSION

Stop beating us! Say stop to the violence! Enough is enough!

I was about 14 year old and my parents had an open mind, and also an opened front door. Because at our home this door was never really closed. All neighbors or friends, in any situation, could find comfort and refuge in our house. One night, around 10 o'clock, late hour at that time, when virtually was no nightlife in Bucharest, at least not for ordinary people, we heard desperate knocking at the front door.

I went together with my mother to open and we saw our lady neighbor from the block alongside - not even a very good friend - in dressing gowns, desperate, with rumpled hair, full of blood, sobbing. I was astonished, I did not know what to think. My mother instead, a woman with a lifetime experience and with a lot of friends,  realized immediately what it was about. She took her in the house, calmed her, tried to ask her how it happened. Through tears, she explained that she had been attacked ... in her home, by her husband, for I don't know what silly reason. No neighbors in her block haven’t opened their doors, no one jumped in her defense. It was almost natural for her to be occasionally beaten and it was not anyone  job  to "interfere" in someone else's family. If he was beaten her, he knew why he was doing this! She had come to my mother because she knew what kind of person my mother was! She knew that my mom and dad would have received her at any time and maybe they would take her stand. And so they did. We hosted her until morning, when "the madman" went to work. Then she  returned home, changed and went to work. Covered in bruises, with a broken lip and sleepless. Perfectly ready for professional performance!!!!!! And she was not the only one! I knew from my mom what happens in many families, because my parents were telling me a lot life stories, just to let me know what to expect, not to have surprises and stay away as much as I can. Painful truths, hidden and endured because the social and cultural pressure to stay with the husband, were obstacles difficult to overcome!

In those days, when the material security was not a big deal - we were all equally rich or poor, my parents kept telling me that I have to, I HAVE TO learn. That was the ultimate goal. Like the poor bride (1) from the famous play, is the girl with no education, and that if I wanted to have independence, to have the possibility to leave without looking behind and not to endure anything that I did not wanted to endure, I had to learn and be good, very good at what I do. However, my parents would have stood on my defense in any situation! Indeed a rare thing back then, but unfortunately now too.
Our lady neighbor beaten by her husband was not a rarity, and my parents talked openly about such things, most of the times because they wanted to help. My good friends' mother, also neighbors, seemed like she was always abused or at least threatened. I had never seen her with bruises or other visible signs, but she never came out of her husband word, her home looked like a modern supermarket at inauguration - everything was "in line" without a speck of dust. But what amazed the child inside me was the fact in that house where two girls slightly older than me were living, there was no toy ... except for a beautifully dressed doll, sitting untouched on a chair, as piece of decor. The  mother of my friends was a housewife  - until I met them I did not exactly knew what this meant and so, she was totally dependent financially on her husband, who had brought her from the countryside to Bucharest and had made her "a lady". So ...she had to keep quiet and endure...

I used to have back then other two best friends, also older than me, who lived in a village where I was spending my summer vacations. I admired and loved them exceedingly, especially as there were "older". I looked at them as some role models! At one point, growing up, I stopped going there on vacation and not really kept in touch. I wrote occasionally, but not having the communication facilities so handy as nowadays, the news about them were scarce. In that area there was not even land line telephone, except for the one from the post office! From time to time when my grandmother was going on visit, she was bringing me news about them. Once, my grandmother came back pretty upset and  when I asked her if she knew something about my friends she told me with regret in his voice: "Petruta get it well, she married a good guy, but Cami ... poor Cami  is always beaten, she has a terrible jealous husband! ". I felt like I just took a punch in the stomach, my tears huddled in my throat and eyes, so many that I could not speak - Cami was my favorite! My mother asked my grandmother why not Cami's father go to the madman, to strangle him? And my grandmother replied, "And to do what? To take her home? ". Meaning this solution did not exist! You got married, you're taken, no matter what! You "get it" well, your luck! Unless, that’s it, you're on your own, it's your job, you chose him!
And at that time (2), nobody would came to your rescue! If parents did not sustain you and they were not willing to take you back home, if you did not have financial independence and enough strength to start all over again with your life, there was no one, absolutely no one who could or wanted take your defense or to help you! It was considered a family business! However there was among people the certainty that, if he was beating you, certainly he has a good reason to do so! It was the duty of women to find ways of surviving in such situations!

Unfortunately, the things are not very different today. Women together with their children are beaten by husbands, in their own homes, and rarely someone intervenes. And the mentality is always the same: surely she did something, because he didn't beat her for nothing! And thus we come to some horrifying statistics!
The good thing is that nowadays there are ways to help the victims: specialized organizations (3) and the police. There is also a legislation on domestic violence (4) and a lot of people that struggle every day to improve the legislation so these women to be helped, to see the light of the next day, to continue their life beautifully!
The bad thing is that many of these women do not know who to call, they don't know that they can get help, that they are entitled to ask for help! And unfortunately, overwhelmed and desperate, they recourse to murder because they cannot bear it anymore! (5)
Folks, women are not OBJECTS! They are not washing machines, nor factories for children or sex! They are human beings, full of light, kindness and color! And above all, they are the ones that God and nature have invested to bring life on earth. They are the human beings who can literally say how it feels like to have inside 2, 3 or more hearts beating simultaneously. They are those that can feed human beings from their own body, bringing in the same time joy, comfort and food to some small and helpless creatures. They are also the ones who struggle for years until they make adults from these small beings. And for all they are and do, the women deserve all our respect. Because ALL, absolutely all of us were born from women!

For all of women victims of violence, on the 15th of October , 2016,was organized in Bucharest a march "Together for the safety of the women!" Because women must be safe at home, on the street, at work, in schools and universities, everywhere they would want to go! https://www.facebook.com/events/1683301398652757/
The telephone number where victims of domestic violence can call for help is 0800 500 333, a free telephone line, where operators answer 24/7.
2 -  Before 1989, during the totalitarian dictatorship of Nicolae Ceausescu
See other the links above.


Reactions:

4 comments:

  1. Your post is so touching. Im so sorry to hear about your friend and all the women and children who are victims of abuse. You have a beautiful and strong mother and grandmother for teaching you the right values.

    ReplyDelete
  2. What lovely parents you have to take in someone who they barely knew when others ignored what was going on around them. I hope that your friend managed to leave the marriage and met someone else who would treat her properly.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Oh my goodness I hope your friend is going to be okay! That is so wrong, no one should be treated like that. You & your family are true gems in her life :-)

    ReplyDelete
  4. Violence is such a terrible thing. Nobody should be hurt, and especially like that. Makes me really upset.

    ReplyDelete

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