So my definition of home has been turned upside down this week. As I am writing this, I can say for sure that a piece of my heart will always be with Ukambani. I started my week of self discovery at Nyumbani Village for 3 days and 2 nights. Getting my feet wet, preparing myself for the following 5 nights and 6 days with Mr. Mutisya Kaema's family. And let me tell you, that compound is huuuge. I learned that Kamba families structure their house differently. They have a building for what usually is a room in a normal house (a building for kitchen, a building for toilet, separate buildings for each children, etc). I would love to post pictures but my blog is being stupid so just check it out from my facebook.
The time I spent there with Mr. Kaema's family was fantastic. Not only I get to do my research and help out with the household job but I also had a lot of time to think (sometimes while I'm running errands). I found myself in the middle of row of maize. It was a flood of thoughts, multiple clarifying moments, and most importantly I felt accepted. I felt like I was home. The family is really nice, they even joked (and seriously) said that they will give me a piece of land as a graduation present so I will come back. These people love me and made me feel like I can live there for a while. That I will always have a place to come back too.
Also, there was a... culture clash during my week there. My first day with Mr. Kaema’s family is also the first time I went to the clan’s meeting, we sat on an open circle of some sort. Three men are sitting with their back to the wall, 4 women (including me) are completing the circle, and the other women are sitting behind my row. I was sitting in the place of honor, right next to Patrice, whose daughter is the one that is getting married, and in the first row of the women. So when I came over again on Friday to celebrate the dowry agreement and help prepare the house to welcome the future groom’s family, I immediately went to the circle of females and greet them. I can see the males already made their own circle near the slaughtered bull where they are grilling chicken and some meat. Patrice, who usually helped me navigate cultural events or activities, was no where in sight and I decided to sit with the women. I had just pulled a chair to join the circle when everybody in the compound screamed at me. I do not speak Kikamba at all and no one seemed to be yelling instruction to me in Kiswahili so I stood awkwardly outside of the circle of female until one of them kindly ushered me to sit with the male. Not only did I sit with the male, but they made me sit with the elder and let me choose the first meat pieces to eat.
It was quite uncomfortable for me at first, as many of the younger girls were staring and pointing at me. I figured they were asking their mothers why they were not allowed to sit with the male like me. My first instinct was to stand up and to help with the lawn preparation. However, one of the elder grabbed my arm and told me to sit down and enjoy the food. I tried to help with the grilling process so I would have a legitimate reason for sitting with the men but they laughed and said it is not a woman’s job. At the sight of them giving the women smaller portion of the grilled meat, I wanted to insist that they put an equal amount but I know they will be offended. Looking back, I realized that my reaction was inappropriate as I might have offended both the males and the females by refusing to sit amongst the men.
After all of the confusion and five kilos of meat they made me eat, I seek my (much older) host brother Fred to get some answer. I explained the situation and my confusion to Fred while he patiently listened and helped his children with homeworks at the same time. It turned out that no one was upset at me for sitting with the female and I just did not understand the power structure of Kamba culture (I will refrain from making generalization of Kenyan culture since I have not visited other regions). While I observed that my food is always served first at the Kaema household, I had assumed that it was simply hospitality to guest. According to Fred, that was not the case. If I had been a female Kenyan guest, I would have been seated with the female but still served first amongst the female. The main reason why they insisted that I sat with the men was because I am a mzungu. The power structure goes like this: Mzungu male, mzungu female, adult male, adult female, and finally the children.
Fred explained that, if it was just a normal dinner, all of the guests would have received the food first then the male of the family, the elder female, the children, and the person who cooked the dinner. But dowry celebration is quite a ‘formal’ event where the power structure need to be honored and followed. The problem is, according to Fred, some people are still very fascinated by foreigners to the point that they are almost scared that anything that they do will be categorized as rude. I laughed at this as I told Fred that I have been so scared to offend anyone to the extent that I tried to get more work and errands to run. I mean, you cannot really offend the maize and the livestocks.
While it made me feel honored that they want to make sure that I feel welcomed and well taken care of, I realized that I reacted emotionally to the division of seating and food. Culturally, male will be served the bigger portion of the nyama choma because they are the one who prepare it. By sitting within the male circle, the wazungu will get their pick of the fattest (or leanest, depend on your preference) meat and bigger portion than if they sit with the female. In my family, we never specifically separated the family members by gender. We do separate by age/generation, but everybody received an equal share of food. With my (host) family in Texas, everybody just piled in the living room or the deck and mingle with everybody. In both families, the only priority we give is to the over 50 folks.
I was just greatly disappointed that gender still matters in some area, except if you are a mzungu. While culturally my ethnic group values male higher than female, in the current days no one ever treated the two genders differently. I think what really made this a big deal for me was the false sense of familiarity I experienced when I first arrived in Katangi (or Kenya in general). I was lulled by the similarities in culture and was not asking more questions to figure out the difference in the two cultures.
But anywayyyy.... at the party I got interviewed by the female elders while they take turns on making a basket/bag. At the end of the party before I leave to our own compound, two of the women slapped my shoulder and stared intently at me while saying "You're family now." I mean.. how could you not feel loved? The following day I saw a woman talking to Patrice while finishing the bag from last night. Patrice asked me if I like the style and I said "Yeah!" She told me that each of the female members of the clan contributed on the creation of that bag because they want me to feel their blessing whenever I wear that bag. Patrice went on to talk about how nice and well adjusted I am. That I am poised and smart and all of these nice things you can say to make a person feel loved and touched.
Katangi will always be my home and no matter how far I go, I will always remember my time there and how much it had clarify my mind.
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