"I am certainly not one of those who need to be prodded…"

07.17.09 mogobane

Posted in personal by stuart sia on July 17, 2009

Today marks my 2nd week living in my house, and my 4th week here in Mogobane. At the moment there are two men painting my bathroom door. It’s 10:09 on a Friday morning, which means, I ought to be in school, but they wanted me here to supervise, I suppose. Like many day laborers here in Botswana, they are from Zimbabwe and speak Shona, which I’m sure my Swahili teacher, Mwalimu Zuhura, would be stoked about, having studied Shona herself.

My fridge came a couple days ago, and I couldn’t be happier! It’s been great cooking without worrying if I’d be able to finish everything, or if this meat would go bad, etc. My kitchen is now complete, with a stove, refrigerator, and water filter. I just need curtains for the window.

I have two bedrooms, one of which I use mostly for laundry. My bedroom has a desk, a bed, hot pink curtains graciously donated by my counterpart, Thuli, and a bamboo mat (the one I got with Laura at the Game City mall in Gaborone) where I do my exercises every morning and evening [cue gasps and disbelieving shaking of heads from friends who cannot imagine I would have such self-discipline; I’m trying to keep in mind the New Year’s resolutions I made half a year ago.]. I was thinking of putting the mat in the living room, it certainly is large enough, but then I thought, my room ought to be a refuge and a sanctuary—somewhere I feel safe and comfortable. Call me Asian, but I love the feel of bamboo pressing up against my bare feet.

My bathroom has a new door as of yesterday, which is getting a fresh coat of paint as we speak…or as I type, rather. As I reported in a Twitter update earlier, I do indeed have hot, running water, which is a commodity here of which I am very much appreciative. The broken light has not yet been replaced, though I haven’t exactly been pushing for it; I bought a candle last weekend and have been bathing by candlelight every night since. No complaints here.

My living room has a couple chairs, a love seat, a coffee table, an ugly old desk I use as an ironing board when necessary and a corner table for my books in all other instances, another set of hot pink curtains (ke a leboga thata, Thuli) and beautiful pictures of all my beautiful friends all over the walls…the ugly pictures of my ugly friends are in the laundry room…just playing ;) But forreals, I love my living room. It was with careful thought that I put my pictures up in the living room instead of my bedroom. Inasmuch as I wanted my room to be a refuge and a sanctuary, I did not want it to be a hermitage or a hole I would seal myself in. My friends, you are with me in Botswana, in the photographs scotch-taped to my living room walls. Now, if only I could figure out how to bewitch them to move like they do at Hogwarts and the rest of the wizarding world…

Speaking of which, I’m totally bummed to be missing out on Harry Potter fever. But, I think they may be showing HP6 in Gaborone. I know a few Harry Potter fans here who would be keen to check it out. Maybe I should come dressed like Harry Potter…or not…what kind of nerd do you take me for? Jesse Carrasco (a big nerd who works for UCLA Orientation)?

I taught a couple lessons this week. One was on peer pressure (for the Form 1’s; equivalent to 7th grade) and the other was on date rape (for the Form 3’s; equivalent to 9th grade). I love teaching. I love the classroom environment. I feel at ease. And I love talking about this sort of stuff. Walking up and down those aisles, chalk on my hands and my coat, I could have very well been back in Los Angeles with Planned Parenthood’s Middle School Program talking about sexuality with middle school students…except every now and then it would be Setswana that I would have to translate something into instead of Spanish.

The date/acquaintance rape lesson was a particularly important one for me personally and one that I wanted to make sure was taken to heart (see my post entitled “take the high road, and just walk away”). We had a great discussion going, and I tried to illuminate (almost used the word “illustrate,” before I realized that might send the wrong picture…) for them the difference between sex and sexuality, (i.e. sex isn’t the only way to express sexuality) a concept, I think, they were able to appreciate after the discussion. Having decided that dating was certainly one way to express sexuality, and one that did not always lead to sex, I asked, but do some people think it leads to sex? To which they responded, yes. To which, I explained, well that is how date/acquaintance rape happens, when one person thinks sex is going to happen and forces it to happen regardless of what the other person wants.

One thing I was afraid of in approaching this topic was challenging traditional beliefs and values, because in a relationship, traditionally, the man makes all the decisions, even simply whether or not to have sex, let alone the decision whether or not to use a condom. This belief is engrained even in the ceremony of matrimony, where the groom is required to pay a lebola, or bride price, to the bride’s family in exchange for the bride. Of course, I am in no way suggesting that Setswana culture is any more or less chauvinistic than our own American culture (we certainly have remnants from our patriarchal past, some of which are benignly vestigial, but others of which continue to hamper the progress of women today). But, while I feel liberated to openly criticize my own culture, I feel understandably less so here in Botswana.

So, to lead them to the conclusions I hoped they would arrive at, I gave them a brief, annotated history lesson: A long, long time ago, in America, there were some white people who thought they owned black people. Just as I own this book in my hand, and can take good care of it, if I wish, dust it off, if I wish, read it, if I wish, or can step on it, rip out its pages, or burn it, if I wish, so too did those white people feel it was their right to control, command, neglect, and punish the black people they “owned.” [Was that fair?] Now, not all people felt this way. Some white people, despite having the power, despite having the “right,” forfeited that power and that right, claiming (righteously so) that it was never theirs to give up—some notion of “all men being equal.” [Would it have been easy for you to give up such power?] It took a long time for America to learn that all men are equal, that a white man is American, a black man is American, and even someone who looks like me is American. [Did you think I was an American when you first saw me?] And it may take a longer time, still, for us all to learn that all people are equal, because, just as those white people had thought they owned black people, do some men believe they own women? [And as important as it is to embolden and empower women, in the same way people of color have been emboldened and empowered in America, is there a role for men to play?] Speaking to the men in the room: Just as there were brave and righteous white people who forfeited the power the law had unfairly given them over black people, so too can we, as men, forfeit the power society has given us in our relationships.

I rather enjoyed that lesson.

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esperanza spalding

Posted in art by stuart sia on February 9, 2009

I came across Esperanza Spalding about a month ago, videosurfing on YouTube. She’s a jazz bassist and a faculty member at the Berklee College of Music in Boston and I think I’m in love. A heads up to anyone who appreciates good music: she’s performing in Los Angeles on the 24th of February. I, unfortunately, will be unable to attend for reasons unbeknownst to my girlfriend and, therefore, secret at the moment. I’m, nevertheless, excited, but believe me, I was broken-hearted when this unhappy coincidence was brought to my attention. Anyway, I am hoping I can live vicariously through any of you who have the good fortune to witness this genius on stage. You  won’t regret it.

 

Some of my favorites that you may want to listen for: Cuerpo y Alma (Body and Soul), Fall In, The Peacocks, Mompouana, and Cantora de Yala.

 

You will fall in love. I guarantee it.