Month: July 2013

Breaking Free From Expectations

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“One of the most courageous things you can do is identify yourself, know who you are, what you believe in and where you want to go.” – Sheila Murray Bethel

By: Anonymous.

 

As a young girl, I was limited by my expected gender roles. I was expected to be nurturing, dress a certain way, speak politely,  and often told to “stop acting like a boy” when engaged in sports or playing with toys considered “for boys.”

When I was asked as a child what I wanted to be when I grew up, I said, “I want to be a writer”. My father looked at me in disbelief and told me, “No daughter of mine will be a writer!”

When I was a senior in high school, my uncle who was visiting Addis from the United states asked me what my future plans were. I, with confidence replied, “ I want to be a lawyer. I want to help women who are in abusive relationship and unfortunate situations.” His response, “why don’t you major in something “easy” for women like business. You are a woman. Do something that “fits” a woman. Till this day I struggle to figure out what he meant. What “fits” a woman?

Every woman, whether it comes from close family members or from society as a whole, struggles to find her “fit.” Now more than ever, women have many different choices, and with those choices come tough decisions and sacrifices. Especially for women who are in a relationship with a significant other. In these cases, women are more likely to give up their personal dreams more than men. Women are the ones who are expected to be patient and stay in unhealthy relationships. Women are the ones who push aside their own needs for the sake of their families, regardless of what that may mean for themselves. The expectations for women are endless!

Even with all these challenges facing women, I have had more encouragements to get married young, than I had for following my dreams. Due to this belief, I got married young and had a child within a year. I had the “it” life from other’s perspective. I had the nice house, the beautiful family, the “comfortable” life. It was when I started to question my former beliefs, questioning how I had put aside what I’ve always wanted to fit into the idea of what it is to be a good women, that a lot of thing started changing. The moment I decided not to have another child until I accomplished my own goals, I saw how rough it could really be for a woman trying to stick to her guns. From the rumors, to the constant questioning and smart comments, I had to fight it all, both internally and externally.

I was often asked (by the same people, every time they see me or people who didn’t know me that well) why I would not want to have another child. When I explain my dreams and my goals for myself before expanding my family, they look at me like I had lost my mind. They hit me with the “Lij beLijinet” bullshit and “you will regret it later” comments. What does that mean anyway? Is your twenties not Lij? How were they certain that I would regret it? Why would anyone regret wanting to fully grow into the person they feel they were meant to be before being strong enough to be a backbone for their family?

We live in a society that expects a woman to simply go for what is considered the norm: to get married young, have kids young, cater to her husband and support his goals, oh and his family too and pretend like her marriage is all peaches and cream. Or if she chooses to have her career and other things lined up, the expectation is to still to get married young, have kids young, cater to her husband and support his goals, oh and his family too and pretend like her marriage is all peaches and cream. Did I mention you have to have your hair and makeup intact, a spotless home and a smile on your face at all times?

I also find accepting challenges and facing them head on, is rarely encouraged, especially if you have what is considered to be a comfortable life. When I had a semester and a half left, to finish school I got a job offer that I didn’t want to turn down.  I knew it would be a challenge to go to school full-time, work forty-five plus hours a week and raise a child at the same time. Yet I accepted that challenge. With that I chose to kiss my social life good-bye and focus on my goals. This didn’t sit well with many people around me. I always got the, “isuan bilo degmo busy, hulum yimarina yisera yele indet? Birk honebat?” from people I didn’t attend their serg or lekso. I guess there are other women who work full-time and go to school and raise children and be super human? But for me, I had to stay true to myself. Working and going to school taking up an average of 16 hours of my day, I couldn’t understand how  I was supposed to play all the other roles I had to play to be deemed a good women.

Life can be very difficult especially when you have to consistently fight for what you want. Yes, while going through this tough time, I admit that I cried many nights praying that it would all be over soon. Yes, I went on like a zombie almost losing my mind. Yes, I considered “taking the easy way out”, quitting everything and staying home (which has it’s own challenges by the way no matter how people paint their lives to be as stay- at- home moms), but I chose not to, because that was not what I wanted. And Yes, I admit I chose to go through counseling to overcome depression. I am a better woman today for doing so.

I worked really hard to get to where I am today. As a twenty something year old woman who is educated, with a career that I love, and a daughter that constantly keeps me on check, here are the lessons I’ve learned along the way which I’ve decided to share with you.

Get to Know Yourself

While trying to fit into society, we seldom remember getting to know ourselves. In the movie, The Run Away Bride there is a scene where Julia Robert tries different kinds of eggs to figure out what she really likes. Because the type of egg she likes changes based on the man she is dating. I would tell my younger self, get to know YOU first and don’t change yourself for anyone. When you know who you are, you make the best decisions for your life.

Surround yourself with people who support you

Our lives are filled with ups and downs. Don’t be afraid to admit that you have flaws. Don’t be ashamed of your mistakes in life. The important thing is you learn from it. One of the challenges I have had was getting over judgmental friends. If your friends don’t support you like they should, they shouldn’t be in your life. Figure out what is holding you back in your life and change it. If it means ditching judgmental friends, so be it. You deserve people around you that support you and that you can be comfortable with.

 It’s Ok to Ask For Help

If you are having a problem, ask for help. Don’t burry your problems because you are scared of what others might think. Everyone has their own problems they are dealing with; there is nothing wrong with that. So ask for help when you need it. If talking to your friends or family doesn’t help seek professional help. Although I was raised to believe going to a “shrink” should not even be an option, I chose to do so and I am glad I did. I would not be where I am today if I had chosen to hide my problems.

 Follow Your Dreams

I was once told that my major was not “appropriate for habesha women”. Really? What major is exactly appropriate? It is sad to know that this is the kind of mentality that teaches us to be followers and not leaders. If you want a different path than what is expected of you, take it.  You do not need to justify your actions. It is your life! Own your unique qualities and reach your potential.

Celebrate Your Accomplishments

 It breaks my heart when people make comments like, “When you meet a man, don’t tell him your success because you will intimidate him” or “ Make sure you don’t tell him you make as much as you do, you will chase him away”. We constantly hear these comments and some take the advice. But I say celebrate what you worked so hard for. If a potential partner doesn’t want to take your accomplishments as a plus you need to find someone who does. Don’t be afraid to talk about your dreams and aspirations. Most of all, be proud of what you have accomplished so far and never be ashamed to have future goals that don’t necessarily fit into others’ expectations of you.

 One Size DOESN’T Fit All

Everyone’s life is different. Even people who choose to take the same path in life experience it differently. So choose what works for you best and don’t expect people to understand your choices. Your life doesn’t have to be the same or have the same outcome to be considered the “right” way. Don’t let people’s comments get to you. LIVE your life the way you want.

Final Thoughts

As an Ethiopian woman, I grew up with high expectations of how my life should unfold. Most of these expectations came from external influences.  It was a challenge to break free from those expectations. But once I broke out of these expectations, I became much more content with my life. I no longer live to please people. In that I have found peace.

So when my daughter proudly says she wants to be a firefighter when she grows up. I smile and reply, “Yene konjo, you can be whatever you want to be!”

Disclaimer: This post is by no means trying to prove a certain way of life is better than another. It is not a post about rebelling against the Ethiopian culture. It is a post that would hopefully encourage women to follow their dreams and break away from cultural barriers that hold them back from reaching their potential.

Addis – First Impressions.

This is the first of, hopefully, many articles that will be posted on the this blog from other contributing writers. The following piece was written by Feker Tadesse, a former DC resident, IV league’r, habesha gal who currently works as a consultant in our beloved city, Addis Abeba, thus making her our new “correspondent” from Addis. Enjoy.

 

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By Feker Tadesse.

 

It’s been about a month and a half since I took the plunge and moved back home, to the confusion and chagrin of most people around me. I say most because there were equally supportive friends and family who saw this move as an exciting adventure. I shouldn’t paint myself as a hero since it remains to be seen whether I made a good or yeseytan joro aysmana, a bad decision.

The oddest thing about this move was that it was largely a practical decision, and not an emotional one as many would assume. I studied development and it just didn’t make sense to do it from a metropolitan city thousands of miles away from where all the action was happening. Having said that, there is a certain level of satisfaction about doing what I do here in Ethiopia. As one friend wrote, part of the reward is about ‘giving back to the place that made you who you are.’

Where should I begin about dear Addis? There is both an energetic and suffocating feel to the city. You see the youth involved in exciting projects or constantly hustling to get involved in some. Suffocating because there are just a LOT of people in the city. The icing on the cake is construction of roads happening all over the city, making it impossible for both pedestrians and drivers to safely navigate the city’s streets. Traffic has become a nightmare given that major roads have been closed due to a railway construction that is hoped to be unveiled in three years. In retrospect, I could have worked a little bit more on my timing.

I perhaps look at things a little more clearly, more critically and to some, I’m sure, I’ll sound annoyingly judgmental about our ways. Jarring comments about homosexuality being a sin and the utter disgust people express when speaking about Betty (wholeheartedly agree with this post HERE by the way), remind me about how conservative our society is or at least, pretends to be. Or getting berated by a family friend for suggesting her daughter look into PhD programs after undergrad. ‘Timirtu lay focus sitareg gizewa yihedal.’ Huh? Times like these is when I realize how removed I feel from the society.

Of course, there are moments when I feel like I’ve never stepped foot outside of home, such as the comfort I feel when I spend my Sunday mornings sipping coffee begabi tetekliye, chatting with my parents about the latest gossip, tv humming in the background, the room enveloped by the heavenly smoke that emanates from the Itan. I am reminded of the constant anxiousness I felt in the states and there is a certain level of peace I already feel. A taxi driver in DC once told a friend and myself that immigrants will always feel schizophrenic about their identities, much like Zadie Smith, in White Teeth, describes one of her characters, a second generation Pakistani residing in London, “ … stood schizophrenic, one foot in Bengal and one foot in Wellsden.” Perhaps I will always feel that way but it has ceased to bother me anymore. I don’t quite know how to explain it but I feel surrounded with love, which for now, more than makes up for all the line cutting, random power outages and abuse you suffer from random strangers. I just came back from lunch with colleagues where a stalker insulted a colleague, calling her ‘yenech ashker’ because she dared confront him about his stalkish qualities. Times like these I wish I had continued with my Taekwondo class so that I can karate chop anyone who dared speak to me like that. Ah well, what’re you gonna do?

Our city as always is a site of contrasts. For every drastic story you hear about someone getting laid off and struggling to make ends meet, in the next breath, you hear about destination weddings in Mauritius. It boggles my mind how such dramatically opposite lifestyles could exist side by side. And of course there’s the guilt you can’t help but feel, that comes and goes like those shooting pains you experience once in a while. They’re not so serious that you should seek professional help but nevertheless add a certain level of discomfort to your life. In the States, I never felt guilty for wishing to drive my favorite car (a fancy BMW, preferably a convertible on days when I feel like letting my hair down, ‘tsegurishin go back iyalsh’ as my uncle once described.) Here, I feel guilty for even coveting one because the difference is just so … striking. Living in the US, you can comfortably wish for the American dream complete with your 2.5 kids and a two garage, 5 bedroom house because for the most part (although that is debatable now more so than ever), you know that if anyone works hard, that life is attainable by all. Nothing special about you to make you flinch or think twice about it. No such formula here I’m afraid. Yes there are stories of the self-made man and woman who weathered all odds to make that dream come true, but these stories are few and far in between. There is also, of course, the urban poverty that makes you cringe every time you leave one of the many posh restaurants in Addis after having paid an average of 100-150 Br for lunch. Given time, the homeless blur and seem to blend in with the construction sites of Addis until you notice them no more. A friend was telling me that you need to give a homeless person at least 1.25Br, which is the price for a piece of bread nowadays. I wonder if our legash hands have kept up with the inflation …

All is not so grim, obviously. It IS home after all and Addis has a certain flavor that is uniquely comic. The other day, I was having dinner with a group of friends or rather, we had ordered and we were anxiously waiting for the food to arrive. Our wiater comes back after oh about 40 minutes, cocks his head so and announces, with a pitiful look on his face, ‘Yikirta, pasta alkual!’ To which we all burst out laughing, shocking even him in our reaction. Only in Addis eh? Or the time when a colleague went to her favorite breakfast joint and asked for ‘enkulal firfir’ to which the waiter adamantly stated that under no circumstances was he going to serve ‘firfir’ but she could have the ‘enkulal sandwhich’ instead. She had to call the chef and demand that if they had the eggs, why can’t he just ‘meferfer’ them?! The chef reluctantly acquiesced. The nerve! Or the time when a particularly witty weyala, having witnessed a couple kissing on bole road, shouted ‘diaspora mechem tegboal zendiro’.

I oscillate between feeling like a complete fraud, purporting to help the poor while enjoying the sort of lifestyle I lead in Addis and feeling useful and good about what I do. It’s like what E.B. White said, “If the world were merely seductive, that would be easy. If it were merely challenging, that would be no problem. But I arise in the morning torn between a desire to improve the world and a desire to enjoy the world. This makes it hard to plan the day.”

Makes it hard indeed!

In Search Of Freedom

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“None are more hopelessly enslaved than those who falsely believe they are free.”

Johann Wolfgang van Goethe, Elective Affinities.

I was 5 and Menge had just been ousted out of power. I don’t remember much, but one thing I clearly remember is hearing the word democracy everywhere. I didn’t have a clue what it meant. What I could gather from all that was being said was that democracy meant freedom – you can do whatever you want, nothing could or should hold you back. Let me tell you, that was music to my ears. I for one needed that freedom, cuz mine, dear reader, was none existent. I was forced to eat kurse, mesa, mekses AND erat and clean the plate tebetam sayker. This was painful given my non existent appetite. (my initial joy of attending school had nothing to do with education, it was for getting the opportunity to hand over my lunchbox to whoever was willing to take it). I couldn’t tear blank pages out of my notebook to make yewereket merkeb ena ayropilan. Where was I to get papers from? I could only attend school as long as my head was covered with an intricate shuruba. I wasn’t allowed to magnek the tip of my uniform shurab that so deliciously sat on my wrist, right next to my palm, so ready to be chewed out of existence. Most horrifying of it all, I couldn’t mekam any sikuar, which was apparently meant to be used for tea, and of course, you guessed it, i wasn’t allowed to drink tea. It was insane really, I couldn’t mekam even a teaspoon full – you know that teeny weeny teaspoon? So yeah, democracy couldn’t have arrived at a better time. The universe had conspired so brilliantly to deliver me my freedom at the moment I needed it most. Things were about to change, yehadig yemesgen. 

Sadly, it didn’t take long for my new-found world, with its sweet netsanet, to collapse. One day after school, after finishing yet another mekses, I decided I needed some sekuar to settle it down. After making sure no one was around the kitchen, my yelemede ej, went to get me some. But for some reason when I looked at the sekuar with the teeny weeny teaspoon in it, I knew I wouldn’t be satisfied. As I looked around I saw a shorba mankia sitting right next to the sink. No one has rejoiced for seeing a shorba mankia than I at that very moment. I picked it up, took a shorba mankia full of sugar and shoved it into my mouth. Satisfied, I quickly exited the kitchen. But, only a few minutes later I could hear weyneshet, the beautiful woman who helped raise my cousins and I, calling my name. I could feel my heart about to burst out of my body, but I was also a bit confused. Didn’t weyneye hear about our new-found democracy? She must be confused or maybe she really must not have heard since she’s always so busy. “Sikuar kameshal?”  she asked me. My initial thought was to deny it, since she looked so serious, but right then I saw what was sitting beside her on the kitchen counter. My brilliant self, feeling excited about the shorba mankia, had left it right in the sugar itself, all tangled up with the teeny weeny teaspoon. I looked at it, I looked at her, I decided it was time to inform weyneye, cuz denial wasn’t going to work. I scream DEMOCRACY, DEMOCRACY, DEMOCRACY  and run out of the kitchen as quickly as my legs could carry me. Alas, It was at that moment, looking at her face, that I knew nothing had changed, freedom hadn’t arrived yet.

Today, after having lived over two decades on this earth, the kind of freedom my 5-year-old self expected has still not arrived. My much more mature self tells me it never will. Because it seems like the freedom I was looking for does not exist within the nature of our world or within the human nature. Most of us view freedom to be an ability to do and be anything we want to do/be without any limitations,constraint or inhibition. “Free as a bird,” the expression goes, as if the bird was flying without purpose.The kind of freedom that truly matters has nothing to do with doing what we want, if it did most of us would live in misery or visit our graves too soon. Look at what happens when we do what we want – we eat whatever we want, we get fat and sick, we drink however much we want, we humiliate ourselves at best or drive off a cliff at worse. We say whatever we want, we hurt other people. We sleep with whomever we want and end up on the Maury show. This kind of freedom only leads to destruction.

Then there’s the kind of freedom we’re promised on TV, especially in commercials – the freedom money supposedly buys. Have you ever watched the Chase Freedom Credit card commercials? (Everyone time i watch those, i feel physical pain and despair) or the Nike Be Free commercial or any of the other countless ones which tell us how to achieve freedom through their products? Yeah, those, the ones we seem to accept wholeheartedly. So, we end up buying whatever car, whatever house, with whatever debt, whatever burden to achieve the American Dream. We try whatever diet, whatever day of the week to fit into those pants, that cute little black dress, and become the sexier, more beautiful version of our oh-so-average selves. We step on any petty individual that seems to not comprehend the concept of climbing that status ladder that will deliver us our prize. Of course we go out in the rain, heat or snow, or argue for countless hours whether to vote red or blue in the hopes of perpetuating that idea of freedom that is being beaten over our heads by the media – the media that tells us what to believe, what to think and what to buy.

All these things we chase only give us the illusions of having achieved freedom, when all we’ve achieved is a fleeting sense of satisfaction.  Because in reality, this kind of freedom does not exist in the world we live in, simply because it can not. Whether we like it or not we’re bound by rules, be it the rule of the land we live in, personal believes, our own conscious, even physical realities ( you can only drink so much before you say Adieu to your liver). What is happening is while we’re under a false sense of freedom, the real kind of freedom is being ripped away from us without us being conscious of the fact and we happily let it go. We don’t realize that the kind of freedom that matters doesn’t require so much PR, it doesn’t need to be drilled into our heads. What it needs is conciousness and awareness.

Freedom is not the absence of limitation or constraint. What it is, is the absence of dependency. We will only be free when we stop depending on external factors to make us happy or whole. It sounds so simple, but yet it’s so profound. To not be enslaved by money, beauty, love, status or whatever other external thing we seem to worship, we only need to stop letting them define who we are.Yes, it’s extremely difficult to detach ourselves from these thing since we’ve given them such a high status in our lives. But if we’re able to do it, if we’re able to not give in to every physical or emotional unending need or want we’re almost programed to require to make ourselves happy, if we’re able to understand that we can never buy freedom or go out to the streets and fight for it, we’ll truly be free. Because the only thing we need to do is look inside ourselves and realize that it has all along been inside of us, we’ve just let too much noise, too much “reality” blind us to it. All we need to do is just wake up.

I, myself, have spent much of my adult life trying to reeducate myself about this idea that we all hold so dear. I’m constantly struggling with it, and i have yet to learn so much more. But what i’ve learned so far can be boiled down to this – there was a reason i was told not to mekam all that sekuar, it was for my own good. I should be grateful for not being given that kind of freedom. But if i must, if my human nature compels me to get my fix, i should stick with my usual teeny weeny teaspoon.

Tena Yistelegn.

Holier than thou.

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I recently heard about Betty, the contestant on Big Brother Africa. I have never watched the show and I didn’t know we even had an Ethiopian contestant on it. I’m not even sure what the show is about, but what I do know is that Betty, our Ethiopian gal had sex with a fellow contestant while the camera was rolling. I watched the clip, but most importantly I read the comments made by my fellow Habeshas.

“Asedabi,” “asafari,” “ehe ye’ethiopiawi sera aydelem,” “bahelachenen gedel ketetechew,” the impassioned  comments went on and on. I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about the whole situation. Of course my initial reaction, given I’m what you might call a typical Habesha with a bit of a conservative inclination on some matters, was that of embarrassment. Why would anyone do this knowing they were on camera? But then, I couldn’t help but think about how we, Habeshas, have become such hypocrites. Were we so outraged about her actions or that her actions were caught on camera? Because if it is her actions that is enraging us, then i call bullshit.

I don’t know how the people of the previous generation acted or conducted themselves. They might have been the chewa, sew akbari, egzihabeheren feri individuals that we were told to emulate growing up. But let me tell you, the men and women of my generation, may fantasize to be these things, but we are far from it. I’m only speaking here from personal experience, so feel free to correct me if you feel I’m mistaken, or if your experience has led you to a different conclusion.

Sex in our community has become nothing more than a simple source of physical pleasure. The things that are normally and traditionally attached to it – love, intimacy, commitment are rarely found within it. For instance, if you’re a guy living in Addis with some cash to spare, and you’re looking for a “good time,” that’s exactly what you’ll get. In fact you probably don’t have to do much to look for it. The  ladies in our modern age, it seems, put out easy. Today’s city dwelling women are not the women of your granny’s generation – meshkormem doesn’t work today. You don’t even have to see the nightlife in Addis to witness this, walking down Bole road shall suffice.

This is not only in regards to the single men and women out there. Some marriages have become a way to simply conform with “our tradition” because after the wedding, life sure enough, goes on. I’ll sadly say, I know more marriages that are dealing with the issue of infidelity, then those that are dealing with “communication issues” or whatever other issue we tell others we’re having.  The idea of weshema, a term I viewed to be ‘old,’ used only in writing, is so common now,even newly built condominiums are making some profit from the practice. The interesting part is no one seems to be shocked by this. In some circles it’s almost a source of laughter and amusement.

So why all the outrage? Do we really believe that this girl is not a true reflection of her community? Does she not represent the modern urban dweller of Ethiopia? Or are we pissed that she dared to do it in the open, going against the natural Ethiopian love of keeping everything a secret, behind closed doors?

Please keep in mind I’m not making any moral judgement here on people who view sex to be a casual form of entertainment, it definitely can be that – to each his own. But let’s not mefogager, let’s get rid of  this holier than thou mentality. Let us not be so quick to condemn, when we know in our heart of hearts we’re not as chewa, as egziabeheren feri as emaye wanted us to be. Whether it’s all The Sex and the City episodes us modern ladies watched, or the new-found money that seems to be in the pockets of the upper/middle-class or the liberal diaspora with their “liberated” selves, whatever the reason – let us at least acknowledge, we ain’t all that holy.

Tena Yistelegn.

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