Jeta and a bar owner in Dubrovnik Photo: Siury Mercedes. Story by Jeta Stephens. That was in , and at the time, I thought being busty while wearing an orange tank provoked his lewd call. I was offended and a little self-conscious. Jeta in front of the Louvre in Paris. Photo: Siury Mercedes. Years later, I stood near the busy Puerta del Sol in Madrid, waiting to meet a friend. Initially, I thought he meant drugs, but when he invited me to a nearby brothel, I realized what he was actually soliciting was sex, and I quickly walked away.
However, the women on the prowl are usually dressed in miniskirts and go-go boots. My outfit of the night was a three-quarter-length pea coat and sneakers.
Oh, my beloved Croatia. There is little diversity in this part of the world, and I have never felt so magnetic. Fortunately, Croatians react with admiration when they see new faces.
I felt like a lifelong friend to many of the women and men. If any black woman needs a confidence booster, go there! One night in Dubrovnik, I was bouncing between a restaurant owner in Old Town, an excommunicated Russian bar owner outside of the city center, and an excursion salesman near the port.
But that attention comes with speed bumps. When the restaurant owner felt comfortable enough, he confessed that he was drawn to me because I reminded him of his favorite porn star. I appreciated his honesty, but that admission cheapened the friendship we had just spent three hours building. Jeta chatting with the locals in downtown Dubronvnik Photo: Siury Mercedes. While many woman deal with catcalls and unwanted attention while traveling, I now see a difference in my journeys versus those of my friends of other descents.
