I met up with a friend in town today, and somehow wound up talking with him about my trepidation at dealing with the gender issue here. I told him I don’t know that many women, but that I somehow know tons of men. Because the men are not shy. They hear me speak Kinyarwanda, and they come up and say, “Oh, you speak Kinyarwanda!” They hear me speak English, and they come up and say, “Oh, you speak English!” It’s only three or four sentences before they want to trade numbers. And to know if I’m married, of course.
Women don’t do this. Generally speaking, of course; I’ve met exceptions. But most will smile when I offer a greeting, or toss it back and keep walking. If they hear English, they don’t feel compelled to come over and tell me they know it. They don’t care if I’m married. They stay in the background.
“So,” I told my friend, “I am constantly being talked to by men. But I’m nervous about giving out my number or taking up invitations for a drink because I don’t want to send the wrong message.”
But my friend was not hearing my fear. All he heard was the bit about being surrounded by men.
“Ah, I see,” he says. “You’re a man-izer!”
This made me cry. In a sweet sad way. I have a dear fiend who I have known for about 18 years. Our sons have remained the best of friends, even though the family moved more than 10 years ago.
She tells stories. Just because she does, not for any reason other than she is good at it and has many many to tell. When we first moved here and would talk on the phone(she never knew what the soccer schedule was, or the homework, and I always did) she would tell me wonderful stories about her mother who had passed away before I met my friend. One time I hung up the phone and just wept because i so felt like I knew her and just ached to have that really be true. But then I felt so blessed , like you, to feel the laughter , and love and living and wisdom of that dear mum come to me and enrich my life and mothering in much the same way it might have had we met.
Thank you Jina. I am going to tell my friend and two others about your notes.
whoops, my comment is meant in reponse to Jina’s FIRST entry today, ” on missing people you’ll never know…” Diana