Gender and Independence

I try to live my life as if gender was not important.  I try not to have expectations about someone's behavior based on their gender and I expect people to do the same with me. I have the privilege to be living in a time and place where I can do this most of the time. It is how I want the world to be and do my best to model that behavior in all that I do.

Still, it happens.  I try and decode when people tell me it is not safe to walk somewhere whether it is not safe for anyone, or not safe for a woman. If I think the warning is for women, I run my mental checklist of my self-defense training, I put on my most confident manner and I go anyway. The vast majority of the time I'm so glad I did.

But here in Nicaragua, gender has a much stronger impact on the lives of each person.  Men categorically do not know how to cook.  Though socialism has made some in-roads with empowering women through cooperatives, women are mostly relegated to the home and women's jobs, like nursing. Particularly in the countryside, women often have children young, and have the majority of the responsibility for them, whether the father sticks around or not. When I worked in the countryside installing solar panels, every time I asked a question of the woman of the house, she'd refer me to her husband.

The powerful women of EOS overhauling the accounting systems (r to l): Evelyn - Financial Administrator, Chelsey - Board Member & CPA, me - Director of Development

As a gringa, I get something of a free pass. Expectations are not the same for me as for Nicas. But my gender still comes into play.  Greg, Executive Director of EOS, lived for 6 months here in San Isidro, and I bet his experience was a little different from mine.

I am living in the office, a converted home, with two levels of locked doors in the front and back, and ironwork over the windows. Yet several of my co-workers have asked me if I am scared to stay here alone.  I wasn't, and I try not to be, now that they have asked me.

I have spent some time with the only other English speaker in the area, a Peace Corp volunteer. She tells me all the things her family warns her about: not to walk or bike alone outside of main routes, to watch for drunkards (of which there are many passed out on the street, especially on the weekends), to be aware of catcalls.

I've been wondering how it would be to be traveling in Central America alone. I have always had one or more travel buddies. There were moments I was alone, going to pick something up in the market for instance, but I generally had another person at my side.  I don't want to feel trapped by being a woman alone and at the same time I don't want to be stupid.

Today was my first day to be by myself and figure out my whole day on my own. I slept in luxuriously and I enjoyed fresh melon and pineapple.  But I also decided to test out my world a little bit.  I borrowed a bike from the family of the director of EOS Nicaragua, got it tuned up at one of the little bike stores, and biked around town. Sure, there were a few "mi amor"s, but way more cordial greetings or people ignoring me altogether. Feeling the joy of mobility and independence, once I'd biked every road in town, I hit the Pan America (which can be pretty darn quiet on a Sunday) and biked out of town to the see the area.

It was great to recapture that feeling of independence and self-confidence I normally feel.

Yes, the lives of women (and men) in Nicaragua are constrained deeply by their gender.  Yes, I am passionate about empowering them to live a life that helps them and their families be the best they can be. And yes, I am a human, privileged by the ability to be and do nearly whatever I wish. I am grateful.