Women's day special: Solo travels teach you the act of resistance

What it means to travel alone as a woman in India and what it means to travel the world as an Indian woman. In the early years of my career as a photojournalist, my experiences and worldviews were deeply shaped by my gender and cultural identity as an Indian woman. My travels used to be a source of huge worry for my parents and a topic for discussion amongst well-meaning relatives. I had great pressure and responsibility on my shoulders to take care of my safety, well-being, and the seldom discussed but ubiquitous factor, my reputation. Subconsciously, it was important for me to set a good example so that more parents would allow their daughters to travel, whether for work or leisure. The cause for all these worries was fear. Fear of what might happen to a woman when she travels alone, and a fear of what the woman might become if she learns to overcome fear itself through travel.

I have been living in Bern, the capital of Switzerland, for the past two years. Today, as I sit at my desk by the window in our apartment in Thrissur, watching a woman in her nightie washing clothes on a stone outside my neighbour's house, I realize that my time in Switzerland was truly transformative. It challenged the norms I grew up with in India and opened my eyes to new perspectives on gender equality and freedom, unlike any of my previous travels. I've discovered that being a woman encompasses many nuanced performances, practices, and diverse ways of existing in different parts of the world. Our power and freedom lie in understanding this diversity and our ability to be informed and transformed by it. To travel the world and not be transformed by it is a pity. Ursula K Le Guin, the late feminist and science-fiction author, wrote in her book "The Carrier Bag Theory of Fiction" that humanity's greatest inventions were not weapons or tools of domination, but rather the baskets and bags our ancestors—particularly women—used to carry and gather food, medicine, their children, and ultimately wisdom. The stories of these women, their carrier bags and the things they carried make up the story of our humanity. So my travel tip for you, my dear female, female-identifying, non-binary readers and others, is a little story that you can carry in your bags to help you negotiate the worlds you will travel through. Let's begin with a protest. 

During my first year in Bern, I made very few friends outside the University where I was studying Social Anthropology. Irene Negg, a sweet Italian girl who migrated to Bern five years ago, was one of them. She had had a difficult time making friends in Switzerland and understood the need and power of community and sisterhood. She is a member of the informal women's feminist group in Bern and actively participates in community events, including protests and demonstrations. She invited me to participate in one such protest on March 08, 2023, International Women's Day. 
Participating in a protest is similar to travelling solo. One needs to be well-informed about not just the cultural and political contexts of the place one is travelling to but also the rules and laws of the place. For example, you can wear whatever you want while you are sunbathing inside a private resort in Maldives. But if you visit a local village in the archipelago, you need to cover your arms and legs. This is the customary practice of this Muslim-majority country, and the least we can do as a guest is to learn and be respectful of the local customs. 

I was a guest in Switzerland and a curious one at that, so I asked Irene about the details of the protest - its purpose, agenda and the rules. What could the women of one of the wealthiest countries in the world with a so-called model democratic government protest against? What do they want? She told me that the purpose of the Women's Day demonstration in Bern was to protest against the atrocities against women worldwide, demand for equality and justice for all, and to show solidarity with women's causes. During that time, Iranian women were struggling for their freedom and their right to equality. Swiss women wanted to show their support for them. Women and non-binary persons were welcome to join. Cis-men and gay men were requested to support the protest from home. There was one other caveat - the organisers of the event did not have the authorisation from the Canton of Bern (the local administration) to hold the demonstration. As a democratically elected government, the Swiss administration allows for public assemblies and demonstrations, but with prior approval. This meant that should something go wrong during the event, the police would intervene, and arrests could be made. But this annual march is usually peaceful, with women turning out in great numbers to show their solidarity. I was excited and intrigued. I readily accepted Irene's invitation. 

By the time I arrived on the day of the protest, at least a hundred women and female-identifying persons of all age groups had already gathered in the city centre in front of the railway station. Irene was there too, with a huge smile and many friends and acquaintances. Many carried placards with powerful messages advocating for gender equality, reproductive rights, and an end to gender-based violence. Most of them were wearing masks to hide their identities. The organisers of the protest remained anonymous and were covered even more than the participants. Although I had a mask in my little bag, I was feeling particularly adventurous that day and decided not to use the mask. It would not be considered disrespectful if I didn't cover up, and neither was I breaking any law. On the other hand, it would show even more solidarity as a brown woman participating in such an event. 

I was not a very adventurous person when I was younger. I used to be, and still am, scared to ride a cycle. The fear of falling has always plagued me. But my travels in India and abroad and the demands of my profession as a photojournalist and filmmaker forced me to try different adventure sports and to be trained in scuba diving and rock climbing. This changed the way I travelled, saw the world and perceived risks. In rock climbing, my greatest impediment has always been my fear of falling than my physical strength. In scuba diving, it had been a lack of self-awareness of my own abilities. During a scuba diving training session in Pondicherry many years ago, I was overconfident about my skills and jumped into the sea when the conditions were dangerous with strong currents and visibility was poor. Predictably, I got lost in the sea. What saved me that day was my training and following the protocols and guidelines set by the diving instructor. I could have easily been pushed into the deep sea and would never have been found. I was lucky. That was the first and (hopefully) last time I was lost in the sea. That was almost a decade ago. I have since dived in the Shark Reef Marine Reserve in Fiji with 30-40 bull sharks in open water and dived with manta rays in the Maldives. Even though I have developed a much stronger taste for extreme adventure sports now, I have also learnt to be strategic and take calculated risks. I have learnt, rather traumatically, that my safety is my own responsibility and that I need to be self-aware of my skills and need to set boundaries for myself and clearly communicate them to others. Often, when I travel abroad to cover a story, sports instructors often assume that I'm exceptionally athletic or that I'm a professional in that sport because a magazine has sent me there. These days, I feel no shame in clearly saying no to projects and travel where my safety or someone else's safety could potentially be compromised. No story or picture is worth it. Even if you aren't travelling for work, it is up to you to decide where to draw the line. 

Back in Bern, the organisers had set up a stage on a moving truck, complete with speakers and microphones. They gave instructions to the participants on how to maintain a peaceful and nonviolent protest, emphasizing the importance of unity and solidarity and urging us to stay together as a group. Although I have covered a handful of protests in India as a photojournalist, this was the first time I witnessed and participated in a protest abroad. The procession started moving amidst cheering and slogans about women’s rights over our own bodies, about police oppression, freedom, Turkey, Iran, USA and about a revolution that was yet to come. I was excited. Just as I was about to take some pictures and videos, they announced that we refrain from taking any pictures or videos that could potentially identify individuals, for their safety and privacy. I could see a few police officers surreptitiously finding a spot in the periphery of the gathering to monitor the protest. I kept my phone back in my little bag. 

Often, during my travels, I would make unexpected friends in unexpected places. So too, was the case in this protest. I found people from my university who I didn't quite recognise at first, saying hello to me and acknowledging my presence there. Within an hour, the crowd had swelled to nearly five hundred people. As we marched around the city, I realised that more than just voicing women's rights to the world, to these women, it was important to show solidarity and community to each other. They carried with them, those precious moments of camaraderie and connection that can only be experienced in such a powerful gathering. Some distributed homemade sandwiches to the participants, especially to the elderly. There was no class or social status here. Just a sea of people. With a nod here and a smile there, we formed an unspoken bond of support and understanding. When we reached each crossroad in the city, the moving truck would stop, and the organisers would ask us to form a circle, blocking all the roads. Initially, I felt a sense of unease, fearing tensions or confrontations with the authorities. Then I realised that there was hardly any traffic. This was the Bernese people's way of showing support for the march. I didn't understand what the circle symbolised as the organisers were talking in German. But Irene, my trusty translator who was fluent in both German and English, told me that the idea was to reclaim spaces which are otherwise dominated by cis-men. It suddenly occurred to me that I had normalised the idea that there were places and spaces I, as a woman, was not supposed to go to, especially after dark. It hadn’t even occurred to me that these were spaces that we could claim and not be afraid of! The simple act of being present in an alley where you are not expected to be becomes an act of resistance. And this, to me, is the core essence of travel - reclaiming spaces, breaking societal norms, challenging the status quo and most importantly, overcoming fear.

The event in Bern ended peacefully, although we learnt later that for reasons unknown, the police had attacked the demonstration that was happening in the Canton of Basel. Participating in the protest in Bern was not just a demonstration of solidarity, but it was also a redefining moment for me. Being present in spaces where women are not traditionally expected is a form of resistance. We could address the fear of what might happen to us as travellers through practical tools, training and some good old common sense. But to address society's fear of what might happen when we overcome our fears through travel, we might need to rise up to reclaim more spaces and travel more with our own little carrier bags.