Gender bending

Baking in Uganda with . . . (bottom of post)

Every female volunteer in Uganda will say the issue of gender is a daily struggle in her community. I bear witness to this occurrence; however, I want to flip the coin in this post and show how I, as a male, struggle against the strict gender canons in my small village. The first reality check that my maleness was part of the Ugandan landscape came in the form of my house. When I moved in the walls were proof Pampers do not exist in the village and I could star gaze simply by looking up at my holey roof. When I asked my organization why they did not make repairs before my arrival, they proclaimed, “Men don’t need nice houses!” Indeed, the female volunteer in town had fresh paint, a new roof and a ceiling put in her home. In fact, Peace Corps declined my site a few times because it was too removed/ isolated for female volunteers going to my district. I guess men do not need company. When I renovated my home, (Rhiannon calls it the Ugandan version of rehab because it is "so wonderful") the village told me “it looks like you have a woman living in your house!” Another reminder of my gender dysfunction comes when I excuse myself from the evening conversations with my male friends. They cannot understand why I need to go home but I must sweep, mop, cook, clean, fetch water, wash my clothes, etc.; i.e., be an independent man. My favorite experience came when I spent the entire day baking pies over my sigiri (charcoal grill). My male friends came to tell me “Omoding, you’re more than a woman.” The hardest part about being male in Uganda is that I can’t have female friends and at home I surrounded myself with intelligent, motivated, powerful and beautiful women. Yes, being a male in Uganda gives me significantly more privilege than my female counterparts, I recognize that but I wanted to point out gender canons suppress certain identity characteristics in both men and women; nothing more, nothing less.

 

In daily life, I’m on an extended holiday. It is our version of summer: no school for 2 months and hotter than hell. I slept on my concrete floor last night to avoid sweating. I’m to go to Zanzibar for New Years with a group of other volunteers. I also plan to celebrate Christmas with the nuns at Marcy’s convent. It is strange to have holidays without snow, friends and family. Everyone plays “I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas” but I do not understand why. The only thing white in my village is me. . . and I know they don’t dream of me. I hope it all passes quickly so I do not fall into some depression. While sadness may come, it is crazy to say goodbye to 2008, a year consumed by Peace Corps (whether preparing for or in the actual experience). 2009 brings potential for work, growth and travel. I am excited to jump in fully to the New Year. I hope all is well with you at home. Thanks for all the correspondence/ bits of love. They give me motivation to keep walking, biking, being watched 24/7 because I am white. I’ll be in touch to tell my story entitled “3 Dry Dates: On the D/L in Uganda.” Never a dull moment in the life of HO HO HO Omoding. Love and hugs to you all. Enjoy winter’s chill. . . 

. . . my sigiri!