On sometimes being rude

I don't think many would argue if I stated that I can sometimes have a sharp tongue. When necessary, I rather enjoy administering a good verbal lashing. Such appropriate situations include: when somebody says something racist, sexist, homophobic, or other wise small minded (provided the perpetrator is not over the age of 70), or when people in ways that I feel are less respectful than I would like, and I feel their ego would do well to be taken down a peg. So while here its been hard to hold back.

Mostly, I don't understand all the rules of the culture here, and so somethings that might seen offensive are actually well intentioned. It's been pretty hard not being able to read people's meanings all the time. Also, I don't feel that it's really my place to in around challenging every view point. And before you get all, "if not you, then who? If not now, then when?" let me assure you that while in Canada I rarely miss an oppourtunity to add my strongly worded opinion to any conversation. The reason I'm holding back while here is, well, okay I guess I could cite safety...like who knows how incendiary I might get! But mostly, people here have been so welcoming and they always try to understand the strange things I do. Like now they all wave at me when I pass, which is new for them. And really I'm more able to change whatever attitudes thorough actions, or by giving the girls all the encouragement I can to help them overcome sexist obstacles.

There have been some exceptions. Like on parent day, when we were cooking, and there were all sorts of things I couldn't do, somebody asked how I expected to get a husband. I replied that for starters, I don't need a husband, and furthermore, that I'd want somebody to love me for my brain rather than cooking skills. I got some tsks from the older ladies after this statement, but I don't think I crossed and lines. Oh, and one time some random teacher from another school came to our teachers office for a visit, and started talking about marrying people for green cards, which was weird enough, but then we started giving a lecture about the trades and give/take of relationships, like how women have to give up their jobs when they have children, and men have to give up lots of their income to buy women jewelry. I know, right? I managed to keep my bum on my chair only through very impressive displays of self-discipline. Then he said that a marriage is doomed if the wife makes more money, which I'm sure would be hortatory to even the most sedate feminist. I reached deep into my supply of vocal artillery and gave it to him, but you can hardly blame me.

I've also decided on two other general times when it's definitely okay to be a little rude. The first is to people who are trying to sell me things if they approach me specifically on account of my skin colour. I'm not rich and why would I want to buy a bottle of water from you when I clearly have one in my hand. If you even make eye contact, they never leave you alone, so when they shove things in my face I think it's okay to just shake my head and keep walking instead of politely saying no thanks. The other time is when anybody touches me when not necessary. Like coming back from Nairobi today, the matatu drivers are all competing for customers to fill up their vehicle. Sometimes they would try to take my hand or put their arm around me to pull me over to their matatu, even though I was with Henry! For starters, no, I know what vehicle I want! Furthermore, I don't think it's a good idea for my personal safety or for my continued possession of my possessions to let strangers touch me in crowded locals. Lastly, I don't care if this is a more touchy culture; I don't like the invasion of personal space. It's hilarious to say that, knowing how close I'll be to lots of people as soon as I get on the matatu, but still. Anyway, so as soon as any of the drivers did more that shout in my face or try to obstruct my walking path, I would manually displace their offending limb, and politely say, "don't touch me." However, if they tried again, I would stop and, with one finger in the air, say loudly and firmly, "no, do not touch me." and that was enough to scare them away. Every few times this happened I almost convinced myself that I'm not being polite enough, or that I'm making too big of a deal, but really I don't think I am. It's just one of those times when it would be really nice to have another Canadian with me to sort out what is and isn't appropriate, and keep some perspective, you know?