Wednesday
Jan202010
Women
January 20, 2010 * * * * * Posted by: Eliza 
It’s a funny thing this, but I’ve noticed whilst on my travels, that women - no matter where in the world they are; no matter the lack of common language or culture; no matter what the circumstances of their lives are - will always find something to talk about. Always. And the common starting ground, at least in my experience, is family, children, husbands and age, in no particular order. I’ve found this to be the case all over Africa and in many amazing countries I’ve traveled in.
So there I was, sitting under a large shady palm tree with a group of women of all different ages. We were on an island just off the coast of northern Mozambique. They have started a women’s weaving co-operative here, supplying a nearby lodge with beautiful ‘treasures’ for their guests. It’s a small island with not a lot on it. If you were to continue up north, you’d follow the curves of the mainland up to the Ruvuma river separating Mozambique and Tanzania; to the south, well not much there really either - open bush and a few roads maybe and then to the east, nothing but a wide, wide ocean.
But I digress. I had introduced myself to them all earlier in the day, my clumsy Swahili being met with hoots of laughter (I preferred to think it was ‘with’ me, not ‘at’ me but I didn’t dwell). Their first question came the minute I sat down amongst them: “Are you married?”. “Well no”, I said, “I haven’t felt ready for that big step quite yet at this stage, plenty of time you know”... or words to that effect. “So how many children do you have?”, the lady to my right said, fixing me with an intense stare. “Um, well right now that would be none, at this time of my life, you know, things to do, places to go, busy busy, blah blah” - Jeez, my repertoire of Swahili conversation was now running pretty thin.
“Acchh”, they said....”but you are so old!”, and they fell about on the floor laughing. Instant 41-year-old panic attack, my life flashed before my eyes...it’s all over!
Having realized I was rather an abysmal failure on the family front, they put me to work with the basket weaving. Hey-ho, probably not one of my finer moments either. I could only watch and envy the skill and dexterity with which they took what were rather ordinary bits of straw and turned them into beautiful pieces of woven material. But now it was my turn to listen and to giggle quietly as they lamented the failure of so-and-so’s husband, who didn’t come home the other night (from where...do they have a pub on the island, where would one go for a night on the tiles?), and did you hear how such-and-such’s firstborn child had gone to the mainland and his wife had run off with someone else the minute his back was turned. And so on and so forth.
But, by now, it was late in the afternoon and I was worried that they were becoming increasingly bored with me. My jokes had all been used up and I realised I was no longer funny. I was sure they just wanted to go home for a good cup of tea or whatever the Mozambique equivalent is of a ‘jolly good brew’.
My input into their daily activities had been largely ineffectual, although the picture-taking was my shining moment (thank goodness for the big LED screen on the back of my Nikon – it was like being in a movie theatre of over-excited 8-year-olds on a sugar high!!). But I couldn’t sing, I was out of time with the drumming and had not contributed a huge amount to the more serious and profound conversations. Yep, time to bid my leave I thought. With a certain relief on both sides, I’m sure, we said our “kweheri’s” and went our separate ways.
Reader Comments (22)
Eliza Dolittle? No, Eliza Do A lot! OK, bad pun, but I am sure you laughed and that was the main vein of your posting today. In my eyes, you have been the first woman to really connect the vision and verb perfectly.
Everyone so far have been creating a great environment to get lost in, but you dear Eliza...The women you talk about are the actual women in the image and to further weave the age element into your memory story, you entwine the heart and concept of this very blog's birth. What a way to start! Your next postings have an excellent jumping off point to go into a million different directions and to tell as many stories..and I, for one, will be here for every one!
Great job, now go rest and know that today, you are as big and majestic as that mountain, who's shadow you reside under.
Eliza, I love this. Both the story and the image that go with it. As Ken say a perfect connection of both the vision and verb. I smiled when reading this as the subject of conversations are so alike all over the world. At least amongst women I think. Age, marriage, children and all those little thing in between.
I'm looking forward to your future postings!
What I like about this, Eliza, is the universalitiy of language...whether in Verb, in Vision, in Laughter, in Gesture, or in Silence. Women usually and most men rarely (unlike Ken!) intuit such things. I love it...and your entrance into our new world. Even without children, you are one of the mothers!
The picture is awesome, and the story lovely. Great combination. Like Frida looking forward to more!
What a beautiful story of universal woman-hood and truth...and no matter who or what or where..we can always find a common thread that ties us. And - I just love this image of the women dressed in white..working their straw weavings!!!
Bravo!!!
Your input into their daily activities may not have been productive - as far as basketweaving is concerned! - but I'm sure those women will not soon forget you! Lovely image, Eliza! :)
~Cindy
I think we are going to enjoy seeing and reading about you and your part of the world! Great image accompanied by a well-told story.
Thank you all SO MUCH for your wonderful comments :). They have really made my day and it was a great to relive the memory of my time spent with these lovely ladies.
And Marcie, your comment about the thread that ties us is so true; I remember hours spent in the company of women working on the railway lines in the Ukraine, miles from anywhere. I spoke no Russian, they no English and yet we found common ground. i love that it is like that :)
thank you for this story. i have been wondering about your life so far away, in a strange land. well written and well thought.
Look like any old coffee clutch to me! This is a wonderful essay on how we are a universal family.
What a delightful story, Eliza! I love the humor that you "wove" throughout as you told your experience of weaving with the women of Mozambique. I love the way "Mozambique" rolls off the tongue, and "Tanzania", as well. I'm sure your impact on their lives was larger and more effectual than you think. Just the fact that you sat down with them and spent time listening to their stories had to have made an impact. I love your image documenting your time with them. I look forward to many more stories and images of life in Tanzania.
How fortunate to have traveled and had this unique experience. This reminds me of the saying (was is Maya Angelou who first coined this?) that goes something like, "We're more alike than we are different."
Even though you failed to impress the ladies with your weaving skills, I'm sure your gave them something to talk about in weeks to come beside cheating husbands and no-good daughters-in-law. :-)
"Hey, remember this white woman with the camera? She said she has no kids. Hahaha. Poor thing. How is it possible for a woman to have no kids? I have eight. I can share some with her. Hahaha..."
A tasty slice of an everyday life, Ms. Eliza. I enjoyed it very much.
Hope I'm allowed to comment here, even though I'm not a woman, and I see the "certain" age as a relative concept. :-)
Oh, Eliza, thank you for this on my morning of craziness! Much needed. It made me laugh and it reminded me of a show on PBS or somesuch station years and years ago - a special documenting the lives of a tribe of folks somewhere, possibly in South America, I really can't remember. The people lived in grass huts, built with much care & pride, but one night it rained and in the hut of one of the married couples, a leak developed. Whereupon the husband told the wife to get out and fix it. She eyed him with a look half laughter, half exasperation and said "it's leaking over YOUR side of the bed" and then rolled over to go to sleep. I have laughed for years about that - people are people are people wherever you go. And women are women are women, as you have just affirmed. Loved this.
~ Debi
culture's are so different and that is what makes life interesting. if you werent the topic of conversation at dinner time I'm sure one of the ladies talked about you with another lady at some point and time because of your circumstances...
BUT what a beautifull photo!
Well it had to happen today of all days..there is a synergy to all things!!! Read on: On the way home just now, and I broke down...in the middle of nowhere. pulled off on to the side of the road. what now!!! Called J, I'll be there in an hour. after a while a woman came up, I didn't even see her approach; lovely big smile, are you ok she says. sorry, my husband is far...but i can walk and go and get him to help?. it's ok, i say, my boyfriend will come. we both agreed, men are a very good thing in times like this :) - it was very funny. and now i'm home and all is well - and THANKS ALL for your lovely words :)
Here in the USA we've lost the 'gathering of women at the fence', where the spirit of female community was solidified. Problems were shared, viewpoints expressed, and lessons were learned. As I read your 'verbs' I was able to sense the comradship of those women, and how fortunate you were to have witnessed it.
i smiled the whole way through. your photo set the stage, i grabbed a soft chair and a bit of lunch and there i was ready to learn weaving in mozambique. delightful! you bring the cultural web of women to life in such a way that i believe everywoman can find a common denominator to relate to :) the spirit of V&V brought forth from the living world!
robin bird
What a lovely story :-) I am sure that you have left your mark on them and they will be pondering (and talking about) on your view of the world from it's different viewpoint ;-)
what a great post on sisterhood. the photo is lovely.
Reading your post I could feel the warmth of the sun, this is no bad thing during a grey dismal January day,here in the UK.
Love the story to go along with the fantastic B&W photo. Perfect angle and I love the focus on the 3rd woman in! Wonderful. Looking forward to reading more about your corner of the world!