Perceptions Aren't Always Perceptive

At a friend's bday dinner this past weekend, we were talking about whether or not 27 is considered your mid or late twenties. There really wasn't really a general consensus, but I think people were leaning towards whatever made them feel better? I commented on how I thought 27 was a good year, and someone proceeded to ask me, 'so how old are you Sharon?'. When I said 29, the subsequent response that I got was the following:

'Wow. I hope that I still look that good when I'm your age.'

Now, I didn't quite know how to react to this. I would like to think that it was meant to be some sort of compliment, but it seemed like more of a backhanded insult. I may have thanked her outwardly while secretly cursing her inwardly. Haha. I mean, since when did being on the verge of 30 become the tipping point for decrepitude?

In any case, it made me realize all the ways in which perceptions have come into play in my time here:

1. Age - from the local perspective, if you're a woman in your late 20s and not yet married with babies, you're either damaged goods or something similarly horrific is wrong with you. If you're a dude, then I guess anything goes. In the expat community, I think it's a little more subtle - when you find out how old or young someone is, it tends to change the level on which you feel you can relate to someone, even though it ostensibly shouldn't. I've witnessed, felt, or heard this expressed to me many times.
2. Race - Two equally sad but common realities occur. Ugandans think that just because you're a Muzungu, you have a lot of money (especially if you spend money by relative standards, thinking everything is soooo cheap here). Thus, they will either try to rip you off, or many will simply ask, "You give me something." Plain and simple. On the flip side, I've often heard expats expressing that they think Ugandans are lazy and not willing to work hard, and part of that is the expectation that someone else will come in and give them a hand-out or fix their problems. Now, there is some truth to both stereotypes, and I believe they help to perpetuate one another at times. However, I am not a wealthy Muzungu, thus I have made it a point to lecture people on being an unpaid intern in Uganda and also on the finer points of being a graduate student in America and about a thing called the federal loan. I don't know if they really get it, but it seems to help justify why I refuse to give them the extra 500 shillings (about $0.25) for my boda ride out of principle. Additionally, I also know a lot of very hard-working Ugandans who have done well for themselves by appreciating the value of an education and hard work. But yeah... you come across a lot more of the former stereotypes on a day to day basis.
3. Gender - Oh, I'd have to say this is the thing that infuriates me the most. The men here think that they have the liberty to say and do whatever they want but particularly because you are a woman. My Ugandan colleagues say that they are used to being harassed, cat-called, groped, you name it, and this is something that they are just used to dealing with on a daily basis. Even as an expat, you are still a woman, so Ugandan men will still give you that much less respect. Now, it's never the women or young girls who act out. Not once have I been harassed or heckled by a female. It has always been adolescent boys or men. They think that women can't or won't do anything to defend themselves. On most days, I can ignore this type of behavior and chalk it up to general ignorance... but not today.

As I was out running, I ran past a group of young boys who proceeded to snicker and call out abunch of things to me in Luganda. I turned to look at them, turned away for a second as Icontemplated just running by, and then stop short in my tracks. I turned around in a fairly resolute manner and marched right up to the group of boys asking, "Do you have something to say to me???" Well, you should've seen the group of boys part like the Red Sea as they pointed out the one boy who was most vocal with his comments and basically threw him under the bus. They were so grossly unprepared to actually be confronted by a Muzungu, let alone a woman, that were completely dumbfounded and could hardly even answer my question. The thing is, most often choose to ignore the situation, but they still know that you've heard them. You can choose to say something back, which only makes the hecklers feel vindicated and triumphant that they've gotten a reaction out of you. The last thing they expect is for you to get up in their face and demand an explanation from them. I was going to lecture the boys on being real men and saying what they had to say to my face and owning up to their actions, but it seemed a bit excessive after their moment of panic. Fortunately, I got to give my lecture to a boda driver about 5 minutes later when he decided to harass me with "Hey China..." as I was running by. As I was looping back around, I stopped right in front of him and said, "Excuse me, Sseybo (sir), do you have something to say to me?" Well, of course he had nothing intelligent or substantive to say, and I told him that I'm actually American. The next time he decides to call someone Chinese, he'd better make sure he knows what he's talking about. I said that in America, that is very disrespectful. He proceeded to say he was sorry, and his friend who was perched on his motorbike beside him was snickering -- probablybecause he was talked down by a overzealous, moody Muzungu woman.

After all of this, I thought to myself that it's probably a good thing I'm headed back home soon. I'm thinking that at this rate, I'm on the verge of physical aggression in my next confrontation. And as a closing thought, I'm reminded of the words of the illustrious Grandmaster Flash...

Don't push me cause I'm close to the edge
I'm trying not to lose my head, ah huh-huh-huh
It's like a jungle sometimes it makes me wonder
How I keep from going under