Vagina. Would the word have the same effect, when said aloud, if it were, say, a washing machine or a cell-phone brand? I think not.

 

Whilst chatting to a friend at the school crossing I made the social error of announcing, “I have tickets for The Vagina Monologues tonight.” One would have thought I’d picked up the nearest child and shaken it wildly while singing ‘Ave Maria’, by the reaction I got from the parents around me. I hasten to add, many, themselves, vagina owners. I mean what is the big bloody deal? I doubt if any of the cherubs around me came to be via ‘stork postage’ or Immaculate Conception.

 

Not one to be deterred by ‘sex organ snobbery’, I make my way to the Maidment Theatre, excited and very prepared to be educated thrilled and shocked all in the name of ‘that which is deemed private’.  

 

Fifteen Monologues in total are vocalised this evening, each encouraging gasps of acknowledgement and cries of YES! as they exalt the vagina and ‘her’ secrets.

 

Snappy ushered introductions are made, cue cards in hand via spotlight.

 

The humour factor is high. No one is still, or unaffected. The monologues have their own personalities, derivative of the persons from whose lives they spring. Raw, honest and real time true. This is what we femmes talk about; we have these insecurities and odd relationships with our bits down there. In addition, yes, more often than not, we have a good laugh about it, with lovers, and friends but not – as I have so freshly figured out – parents at the school crossing.

 

Varied accounts, poignant and alarming, ignorant and sad. Words cannot document the spectacle I see in all the varied personae performing tonight. I can carry on about how funny and clever the show is, but you the reader are at a disadvantage, because of course you’re not here.

 

Sensitively, the uglier social issues in humankind’s midst are deconstructed for the stage. These monologues are powerful and telling in their rawness: ‘Under the Burqa’ a self-explanatory perspective given to the sunless existence of veiled women.

 

‘The Flood’ on the other hand is saddening in the context of loss. To briefly light its content, ‘The Flood’ is an elderly woman’s account of a life lived bereft of sexual intimacy. Brought on by an awkward teenage encounter, naively she cancels out a life of sexual pleasure. This monologue has a profound effect on me, a timely reminder to “never allow anyone to steal your peace.”

 

Five years on and Eve Enslers ‘The Vagina Monologues’ proves its quest to desensitise and demystify the treasure that is the vagina is still a hit, giving a fresh voice to age-old concerns and equally candid confessions about our ‘gear, down there’.

 

“This season of ‘The Vagina Monologues’ is being staged for the first time as part of VDAY2010 to raise funds and awareness for Rape Prevention Education by Producer/Directors Anya Varezhkina and Colleen Olson on behalf of Auckland University Student Association. 90% of the proceeds will go to Rape Prevention Education with the remaining 10% to the fund Power to the Women and Girls of the Democratic Republic of Congo.”

 

It is heartening to see that young women in our community are willing to provide a voice and face for those who cannot. I commend their generosity and applaud their talent.
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