To change or not to change? What a fabulous question. Actually Larissa has excellent timing, because I was literally considering this very question the other day. I was pondering all the changes I have made being here in a wildlife conservancy in northern Kenya.
First of all, for all my fellow-hippy-chicks out there, unfortunately Unless you want ticks to acquire squatters’ rights on your calves, or anywhere else (heaven forbid – fa reals!), you gotta shave. That’s right. It’s not natural! they cry, It’s not fair! Well nature isn’t fair. It’s a dog eat dog out here. Or rather a tick eat mammal, or a spider eat fly, or a lion eat everything, Eee Tee See, as they say.
So I have started shaving my legs to ease the unending search for ticks. And the worst part is that once a cool breeze passes and you get goose bumps and your hair starts to grow back, it’s itchier than if you really did have ticks. It’s as itchy as the flea-bites that actually do cover my legs. Those, by the way are thanks to the adorable monkeys who play on line where my laundry dries. I am literally being eaten alive. It’s HOT!!!
That’s change number one in my books.
Secondly, I no longer see any spiders. I believe that once you emotionally accept them into your life, they just go away. Anyway when I do see one it’s like, not even a big deal. I’m very proud of myself.
But what about the deep emotional changes that Larissa is looking for in
assignment number three? Something she mentioned a couple times was gender roles.
Now. Let me just say one day I was walking along Harbourfront in Toronto with Rudo, and I asked him to name my hobbies, which he did with the accuracy that only a dearly loved one can muster, and one of the items on Rudo’s list was “arguing with people about feminism”. After laughing my head off, I said with some satisfaction It’s True. So it comes as no surprise to say that I have had many a conversation with different people, man and woman, about the gender roles in Kenya, women and men’s social positions, expectations, dress, etc. or Eee Tee See I should say.
The thing is, the exceptional thing is, because I am a white woman many of those expectations do not fall on my shoulders. I can dress how I want, and act as I choose, and people, especially here where everyone is trying to act professionally, or at least within the bounds of the social norms of the organization, people just say “well that’s different, she’s a mzungu.”
Gender roles are very strict here in Kenya. I have not mentioned them in my blog, because, frankly, I have spent very much time discussing this with people, and feel I could write a whole book on the topic. It’s simply too much to even begin to deal with. What I will say is that I am an outsider to the max here in Lewa, and while (black) female colleagues were instructed to dress more appropriately after complaints were received in the office because they showed their calves, I have literally seen a [white] woman rocking the “butt cleavage” (aka plumber butt) and spaghetti straps, to no avail.
Here’s a story: if a woman in Nairobi were to wear a short skirt people wouldn’t be surprised if a man ripped it right off of her in public, with the thought that if you’re going to wear hardly anything, just wear nothing at all; or the old if you’re going to dress like a _ then you deserve to be treated like a _ (?!)
Needless to say some women I have met say the modern Kenyan woman is finding it difficult to make changes in this society.
Different Strokes for Different Folks is the rule as I keep noticing.
But let me tell you, gender relations are complex. First of all the roles for men and women, strictly stratified, do vary between tribes and generations. Examples include the usual: men go out and work, come home and sit until dinner is ready. Eat, go to bed, etc. Women look after all the cooking, collecting firewood, collecting water, shopping, cleaning, laundry, childcare-related activities… even if they also work a full time job. The first to get up in the morning, the last to go to bed, the plain treatment of wives here embodies the saying “women are the slaves of slaves.” Any given [Sunday] evening you see men idling on the corners. I ask my (male) acquaintance “What are all those men doing?” “Idling.” “But where are the women?” “They’re inside the house working.” “Why don’t the women come out and idle too?” “They’re too busy.” “So if they’re so busy why don’t the men go in and help them” “No, there’s nothing for the men to do. They’re not that busy.” That last answer was interrupted by another (female) friend listening to my questions, with “Because our country isn’t FAIR!”
Other traditions that I find interesting include the fact that hard labour and heavy lifting is considered women’s work. Carrying water and large bundles of wood – women’s work baby!
Then there’s the whole husband and wife thing. Divorce is highly frowned upon here, as people are 100% religious. At the same time it is kinda generally accepted that men are “cheaters” (quoted from chick-lit reading in the national newspaper, ok? Might I add that the article basically encouraged women to accept it and move on… And I got the feeling it was considered a relatively progressive article). In fact the only person I have met who is divorced (and not white) is one young man who did it because his wife cheated on him, and all of a sudden it was okay to get divorced.
I digress. I think at first all I could do was cringe. But after talking with many people, and seeing how men and women relate, I started to realize that people do what is normal. And in this whole wide world there’s no such thing as normal, is there? I told one friend that in Canada it is illegal to beat your wife. He was shocked, and said “But even if she does something to deserve a beating?” And this is a young man who is friendly and normal and fine.
The understanding I struggle with is not acceptance of things I disagree with inherently such as domestic violence. It is a learning process that is expanding my whole view of life and human relationships.
I have done the same exploration of this stratified and racialized system. I suddenly realized that my chef Fridah takes pride in her work, and maybe the guilt I take on over my white privilege is more demeaning than the privilege itself. For example, so I don’t want her to have to eat a separate meal – but would I expect a professional waitress or chef at home to sit and eat with me, their client/customer? Would they even want to? Please!
I am trying to look at the bigger picture here. Trying to change the habit of judgment. My TA Mohsen once told us that a thought is worth a thousand judgments. So here I am in Kenya trying not to judge. Trying to make a change.