She’s about 1m75 of pure pain in boots with high heels reaching above the knee. Like when you like spicy food, but it’s so spicy that every inch of your mouth bloody hurts.

Short shirt. Long, tight boots, heels bigger than 50 percent of the world’s dicks. All her clothes are black. Her coat hangs open, when she moves you can catch a glimpse of a 30 centimer strip of naked thigh. Long floating, black hair. Probably dyed, but who cares? She’s absolutely stunning and she’ll twist a small dagger in my rib cage. Something so beautiful makes every other endeavor revoltingly mundane. To think that Syria and Yemen are being bombed in the same world as this creature. Hell is a freezing shower of missed opportunities. I see her walk to the bus stop. Highly uncommon in Slovakia. A woman like that always seem to find some mute giant with an expensive car to drive her everywhere she wants while she sits back and instagrams her outfit. I sweat that standing on a Slovak street corner is infinitely more interesting than anything National Geographic has to offer concerning the animal kingdom.

A big white van stops abruptly (!) on the busy street, honks wildly, and the workmen inside wave at her like bobono’s who’ve swallowed this week’s amphetamine supply of Rotterdam, Amsterdam, LA and New York combined. Losers. I don’t often use the word losers, but these guys are losers. Only guys who have fully accepted that they will NEVER get a date with a woman like that ever stoop to cat-calling. She ignores them of course. What must it be like for her? The sight of her is depressing to me, in a bittersweet way, but the behavior of those guys just makes me want to vomit all over them. What kind of weak father figures did they grow up with that they think this is ok adult male behavior?

I’m not screaming or waving, I’m just twisting my neck trying to look at her while she walks off to the bus and I walk off to work. I pity any guy who has to work with her today and has to stare at what can’t be had. I’m sure that in some universe she would have been arrested and fined for this unasked for assault on the weak male human.

I feel ambushed.

Wondering what the day would be like if I could spend the day with her. I suffer from this chronic condition called ‘guy-itis’, better known as being a guy.

I’m busy shaking off this guerrila visual attack, wondering what a woman like that is trying to accomplish wearing an outfit like that. What must her world be like? It must be such a different human experience than mine.

In the big company building I teach a group of Slovak women.

Because of international women’s day I’ve compiled a list of Dutch words that have some relevance today. There are many words, ranging from ‘the right to vote’ to ‘career woman’ and ‘high heels’ and ‘maternity leave’. There are also some words connected to menstruation. Pretty damn important words, if you ask me. Imagine going to a doctor in Belgium or the Netherlands and not being able to say that you’re having your period.

They pull up their nose, and they are more silent, less enthusiastic than usual.

I hear at least one mumble in Slovak: ‘What kind of words are this?’

It made me realize this:

In Slovakia sexual organs do not exist

They have no official validity, they are not on the radar.

Sex in this country exists in four ways:

  • A tiny, yet highly visible, minority of women walk around like the most expensive escorts on the planet
  • There are sexually provocative advertisements on billboards in the streets
  • Porn is very popular in this country, especially – and I’m not inventing this – porn that plays to incest fantasies. Really, popular porn videos are suspiciously often titled ‘fucking his hot step sister’, or ‘brother fucks step sister better than her boyfriend’
  • When you walk into a book store there are pyramids of ‘erotic’ novels called ‘Golddigger’ screaming at you

Other than that, sex does not exist in this country. It’s not talked about. Slovakia is squeamish. The conversational range is limited, if not outright handicapped. You always risk making someone uncomfortable. Verbally. Nobody will ever be offended by Slovak women walking around with naked butts. No, not short skirts, just naked. Yes, in this country where readers are still shocked by a little lightweight Dutch novel involving a bit of sex that caused a bit of a stir in the 1960’s in The Netherlands, it’s ok to walk around butt naked. Just don’t say anything about it. Look the other way.

If you would envision all the countries of the world are at a party together, personified as a man and a woman, then Slovakia has to send in an dolled up 15 year old girl and a macho 15 year old boy. The boy and the girl are hiding in the corner. The girl is sitting on a bar stool, shy, but showing off her legs, not saying anything, and being uncommunicative, and the guy is flexing his muscles in the mirror on the wall, because none of the more mature guests give a shit.

This is a remarkably prude nation. It’s a country with a modern economy, but with a 1950’s mentality. Sometimes this is endearing and sometimes it’s just bloody annoying. Grow the fuck up, does anyone want to learn a language and not learn words like ‘menstruation’ or ‘sanitary napkins’? My students were even too shy to pronounce the words.

Honestly, you meet tons of extremely nice, polite people around here. If I’m often negative about Slovakia, it’s because I see how many people over here are making a real effort to make something of their lives, more so than in Belgium, where young people have it easier, but….

I do get tired of the paradox of porn star clothes and the infantile reduction of what is considered ‘polite’ conversation. It’s hard to process how you can see so many women around here dressed in a way that no Belgian woman would ever dare to go out, yet at the same time even mentioning the existence of the hormone testosteron makes people wince.

I blame the Church of course. I think I would be a Christian if Christianity hadn’t ruined sex, and if it would at least lift one finger to affect positive social and political change.

It’s the old Christian torture system of ‘look, but don’t touch’.

Ah, how I love Al Pacino’s hit piece on God in the Devil’s Advocate.

I think at some point I’ll move to Brasil or some such country, for a couple of years, I’m told people over there have taken the radical step of considering all things sexual as something ok.