Growing up in a liberal college town in the U.S., I never faced much discrimination based on my gender, at least that I perceived as affecting my life. Coming to live in a developing country, where women only gained the right to own land several years ago, I was in for a bit of a shock. In my life skills classes I teach a couple of sessions on gender, and some of the responses I have gotten have alarmed me and my liberal American upbringing. According to some of my students a woman’s place is in the home, raising children and obeying the man, the “head of the household.” And if she isn’t being a good wife (such as spending all day doing chores and doing anything the man wants) a few thought it was acceptable for him to beat her – “if you don’t beat your wife it means you don’t care, which is worse.” This was a pretty heated debate, surprisingly with boys and girls on both sides. Trying to introduce gender equality, I told my class that I had gone to school in the U.S. to learn how to design buildings, so could I help build one of the traditional houses here? There was no debate on this, it was unanimously no. That was work only for men, I could smear the mud on the finished hut. I’m not used to being forbidden from doing something because I’m a girl, and the list of things is pretty long here. Also the fact that I’m 24 and not married or have any children is looked at as a bit incredible here, and I don’t think they believe me half the time. I must have some children squirreled away somewhere.
The chauvinism can be seen in too many conversations I have with men here. Below is a typical conversation I have almost every time I leave my village, and which sadly, varies very little (I have not put my side of the conversation in since it does not seem to matter what I say, and it reflects how I’m treated as an object rather than a talking, thinking, equal human being.) :
-What is your name?
-Ah! Limpho, a Sesotho name! Where are you from?
-You stay in a village? No, really?
-Where are you originally from?
-America! I have a question I want to ask you.
-How can I go to America? How much does it cost to go to America?
-Ah, Limpho, that is too much! What can I do?
-How can I visit you?
-No I must visit you, I love you too much.
- Are you married?
-Ah, I am the one!
-Why not Limpho?
-No, but why? Why will you not marry me?
-Ah, I do know you, you are ausi Limpho from Tsehlanyane.
-What is your phone number?
-But how will I contact you? How can I come and visit you?
-Ah Limpho! Come on, I must have your number.
-Ah Limpho, come on. Fine, goodbye.
I once was proposed to by someone resting, hidden behind some bushes. It seemed as if the bushes were offering me its surrounding cattle to marry it and couldn’t understand why I said no.
While I have several friends that are men that treat me as an equal, with respect, it is not typical. But I have never felt myself in danger of any physical harm. While it can be a nuisance, these interactions are harmless. I guess I should consider myself lucky, but it’s hard to feel that way while I talking to some of these men. Maybe I’ve given some something to think about, a woman who refuses them always seems to baffle them. But with tv and radio programs, I have a feeling that times are a changing.
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