The Vagina Monologues

If you take this small island of Roatán, women have nowhere to go. Even if they did tell the police or someone who could put the violence perpetuator behind bars, they will get out, find the women, and if they don’t up the ante in brutality, they will kill them.

By Cheyenne
For the past three years, there have been annual performances called the "Vagina Monologues" on Roatán. The show consists of women worldwide telling stories, or monologues, about different situations they may go through, such as puberty, relationships, sex, and abuse. I saw the first show in 2008 and was eager to take part in the next year. My stories were always fun to perform, even though I was younger than the dozen women that participated. Each rehearsal, I’d listen to everyone’s monologues. One in particular was written by a Honduran college student from Roatán, but performed by another woman. She described the sexual assault on her by a close relative. I’d always cringe when she detailed the blood dripping down her thigh. My story, on the other hand, dealt with a girl who had forcibly gotten a nose job, how it changed her life. The whole Monologue experience was powerful, and made me wonder what I could do to help with battered women.

Now you’re probably wondering what the V-Monologues had to do with helping battered women. It just so happens that the ticket funds went towards buying land and building a battered women shelter. I was helping to create a sanctuary by going on stage and talking about my nose, go figure.

It was after this experience that I found myself questioning and doing research on the matter, ending up with disappointing statistics. For example, did you know that 41,263 domestic violence complaints were filed to the police in Honduras between 2006 and 2008? Neither did I. Did you know only 16,490 of those complaints were finalized in court? How can that be? Not even half of the original complaints were taken to a judge to be decided on what would happen. Apart from the law’s involvement (or lack thereof), I wondered, “What else is being done to help these women? Where can they go? What are they offered? What can they do?”. All these questions rush up at once, and I find it equally frustrating when the solutions aren’t as quick to appear.

According to UNHCR Refworld, about 61 percent of complaints are not finalized in court. That percentage increases every year. For example from January to May 2009, complaints increased by 20 percent. How come? The women who made these complaints could’ve possibly changed their minds about the charges. Why would they? If you take this small island of Roatán, women have nowhere to go. Even if they did tell the police or someone who could put the violence perpetuator behind bars, they will get out, find the women, and if they don’t up the ante in brutality, they will kill them. So where do they go to avoid that? What shelter is provided? As a developing woman myself, I participate in whatever way I can to help my fellow gender, such as my two years in the Vagina Monologues. By performing, I’ve made an effort to help battered women.

The money from our performances remains in a trust fund, waiting to be used. Though the original plan has not yet followed through, there is indeed a building on the island that takes in women and their children escaping domestic violence. I found this out about a week ago from Valerie Nelson, the head of Familias Saludables and a big leader in the V-Monologues. I don’t know whether to feel relieved that there is such a building providing aid, or to feel outraged that complications forbid us to purchase land for a beneficial cause. That money, that unused fund, could help hundreds. Like I said, those percentages of domestic violence keep increasing. But think about it: if a play of a dozen women can accumulate enough to provide a safe haven for those seeking it, what could happen if hundreds started helping? While this is just a thought, we need to take action to stop the violence. (11/12/10) (photo courtesy BBC News)

Note: The author is a student on Roatán.