When Cows Come Home

"Vagina. No matter how you say it, it sounds bad. It sounds like a contagious disease of some sort…..or a medical instrument. 'Nurse, hand me the vagina…'"
Just came back from watching <a href="" target="_blank">The Vagina Monologues</a> and I must say that it was a splendid performance. Being Asian, I expected myself to be less comfortable about these unspoken issues than the more vocal Americans. The thing that bought me over was that the Vagina Monologues was not flippant about sexuality, unlike many other acts that try hard to gain our attention. It was a celebration of all that was woman. Man's dominance is overt all over the world and makes itself clearly evident. Phallic skyscrapers pierce the air, pens, rockets, aeroplanes….don't give the excuse that aerodynamics have a part in this atrocity. We have far too often cheapened our helpmates and reduced them to labour or body parts to be had. We flaunt them like possessions and go through them like consumables.
I'm glad tonight was not such a night. The realization of woman as an integral part of humankind and yet is complete within herself is an essential step towards the betterment of us as human beings.
"The vagina, like the heart, can sacrifice. It can stretch to accomodate. It can bleed to allow life into the world".
In English there's the saying "when the cows come home", or its more contemporary equivalent "when pigs fly". Back home in Singapore the Hokkien people have a similar saying that translates into "when the vagina speaks" (CB kong woei). Tonight that happened. The vagina, the essence of all that is woman, spoke. My ears heard her thoughts and my heart her emotions. And I stood in awe.
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