Promoting another blogger- msbinafrica
The following blog made my train journey on a cold winter Monday, much more enjoyable. How the blog fits in with existentialism, I shall analyse later:)
Recently I was invited to a party at a colleague’s home. Now unfortunately I did not know anyone at this party except my husband and a couple of his friends. As we arrived I realised that all the men were outside and alas all the women had migrated to the Kitchen… OHHHHH NO!!! Not again… where is it written in the book of partying that ‘women shall be in kitchen whilst men party outside’ I am sick and tired of dressing up and ending up cutting meat and onions for the braai. I am not lazy, I love cooking but I didn’t leave my own kitchen at home and get dressed so I can come and play house girl in yours… this was meant to be a PARTY not part time household employment.
Honestly what’s so wrong with expecting those who are hosting a party to prepare beforehand so that by the time people rock up they have things in check? I am tired of going to parties and spending the whole time slaving away in someone else’s kitchen and missing the actual party… you said this party was for WHO again? Listen if you need assistance for the chores for a party call on the backing of relatives, neighbours, your house help, yes even your friends can come in early to help make the salads, marinate the meat etc… But for heaven’s sake do not hold us at ransom with a guilt trip when we arrive 2 hours after the start of the party to realise, the hostess would like you to start peeling the potatoes for the potato salad… WHAT??!!! You must be joking. In these heels you got to be kidding me… and no offering me your slippers to change into is not an option.
So here I am at this party and the host shows me where all the ladies where, so in true rebellion style I greeted them all one by one, smiled, turned and went back outside to hang out with the boys… didn’t bother myself to hear what the ladies would say, matter of fact on this day I didn’t care. Come on we aren’t in the 3rd grade anymore remember those parties where the boys sat on one side of the class and the girls on the other, waiting for someone to cross over. No way I came to party and that’s what am doing. So I went to where the party was at. Actually this wasn’t the first time I’d done this, I remember my friend Dama and I would always end up at these braai’s and we’d be the BAD girls hanging out in the yard instead of being in the kitchen…only this time I had no other female backup.
But I had learnt the art pretty well. Because these ladies used to twist it up on us… We show up fully dressed in our outfits and we find them in chitenje, doek and t-shirt… the few times we helped – our nice outfits now smelt of smoke, garlic or whatever they had the misfortune of picking up in the kitchen. Meanwhile after all the work is done, ladies from the kitchen go freshen up in the bathroom and return looking super fab in the outfits they had stashed in the bedroom and yup you guessed it, smelling super fresh of some designer perfume… hmm we’d obviously just been played! But that was college; fast forward to the life as it stands now, seems nothing has changed.
Apart from the obvious culinary activities, the kitchen is the territory for swapping of female stories (aka stories about each other’s stretch marks, pregnancies, spouses etc) really that’s not what I signed up for. Firstly I don’t know you that well and I am not ready to divulge such information, secondly I read the invite and it said braai, bring a bottle, dress casual… Nothing about segregation of sexes. I will not succumb to social pressure; I will stay out here and enjoy an interesting array of conversation – football, politics and social commentary – what’s not to like about the stories with the guys.
So at first I was the solitary female figure in the yard, but eventually it must have dawned on those inside that maybe I was right after all. Because for the 1st hour every lady that came in went straight to the kitchen… even a chick who was dressed to the nines in stilettos, mini dress and killer makeup… on my way to refill my drink I snuck a peek and couldn’t help but giggle as she struggled to pull at the dress while chopping at tomatoes… shame! Then eventually one by one the women who joined the revolution increased in number. Some even made the bold move like me of not even stepping in the kitchen… Others pretended for a few seconds then you would see them bring a plate of meat outside and never return to the dreaded kitchen…. he he. Eventually all that was left in the kitchen were the true kitchen lovers…Because even by then all the kitchen activities were done but they preferred to sit back there and chat. Well good for you but that’s not my scene. I accept that your idea of party is chilling with the girls at the back and chatting, so similarly accept that my idea is mingling and chatting outside.
It’s amazing how easily one can judge this and say am rude, unladylike or the reverse to think the others who were in the kitchen were the enemy, backward etc… Yet if there’s something I learnt this day is that we are all but different sides of the same coin and we all make up the diverse image of Woman. We may divide ourselves as the women who love to be in the kitchen and those who don’t, and yet in reality apart from locality we aren’t that different. In fact once the others joined me outside, we found we had a lot in common… And eventually we ended up chatting about Manchester united, politics and not forgetting stretch marks, spouses etc… After all what’s female conversation if it doesn’t go down that road!
http://msbinafrica.wordpress.com/2011/06/29/woman-shall-not-dwell-in-kitchen-alone/
The following blog made my train journey on a cold winter Monday, much more enjoyable. How the blog fits in with existentialism, I shall analyse later:)
Recently I was invited to a party at a colleague’s home. Now unfortunately I did not know anyone at this party except my husband and a couple of his friends. As we arrived I realised that all the men were outside and alas all the women had migrated to the Kitchen… OHHHHH NO!!! Not again… where is it written in the book of partying that ‘women shall be in kitchen whilst men party outside’ I am sick and tired of dressing up and ending up cutting meat and onions for the braai. I am not lazy, I love cooking but I didn’t leave my own kitchen at home and get dressed so I can come and play house girl in yours… this was meant to be a PARTY not part time household employment.
Who was the evil person who declared that all women must migrate to the kitchen during all gatherings anyway? I want you to find that person, bring them to me so that I can do the honours of wringing their
neck. Yes, I know the cliché says that a woman’s place is in the kitchen… but surely that was in reference to your own kitchen at home, not every kitchen in the entire universe. Why oh why is it then, that we get invited to parties, get tog ether’s etc and somehow still end up in the kitchen. I understand the obvious need to help the hostess deal with the culinary duties at hand but it seems it has
now become the only activity we end up doing.
I know I must be committing party suicide and some are probably crossing me off the guest list as we speak – saying stuff like “ that lazy girl will just complain if we so much as hand her a paper plate!”. But don’t get me wrong. Am all for helping, in fact, I am always helping and maybe that’s the reason why I’ve become so jaded. But there has to be a limit of how much we as invited guests can honestly help.. I don’t mind showing up at party and spending 10 -15 minutes helping out – putting the dishes on the table, bringing out the cups for drinks etc you know “end of the preparation” tasks . But this idea the women will come and then cut the meat which is being taken out the freezer at this moment, and start everything else from scratch surely has evil intentions written all over it. Fine it’s your boyfriend’s party and you want it to be perfect but warn a sister before she puts on her best ‘I came to
enjoy myself outfit’ wont you!
But I had learnt the art pretty well. Because these ladies used to twist it up on us… We show up fully dressed in our outfits and we find them in chitenje, doek and t-shirt… the few times we helped – our nice outfits now smelt of smoke, garlic or whatever they had the misfortune of picking up in the kitchen. Meanwhile after all the work is done, ladies from the kitchen go freshen up in the bathroom and return looking super fab in the outfits they had stashed in the bedroom and yup you guessed it, smelling super fresh of some designer perfume… hmm we’d obviously just been played! But that was college; fast forward to the life as it stands now, seems nothing has changed.
Apart from the obvious culinary activities, the kitchen is the territory for swapping of female stories (aka stories about each other’s stretch marks, pregnancies, spouses etc) really that’s not what I signed up for. Firstly I don’t know you that well and I am not ready to divulge such information, secondly I read the invite and it said braai, bring a bottle, dress casual… Nothing about segregation of sexes. I will not succumb to social pressure; I will stay out here and enjoy an interesting array of conversation – football, politics and social commentary – what’s not to like about the stories with the guys.
So at first I was the solitary female figure in the yard, but eventually it must have dawned on those inside that maybe I was right after all. Because for the 1st hour every lady that came in went straight to the kitchen… even a chick who was dressed to the nines in stilettos, mini dress and killer makeup… on my way to refill my drink I snuck a peek and couldn’t help but giggle as she struggled to pull at the dress while chopping at tomatoes… shame! Then eventually one by one the women who joined the revolution increased in number. Some even made the bold move like me of not even stepping in the kitchen… Others pretended for a few seconds then you would see them bring a plate of meat outside and never return to the dreaded kitchen…. he he. Eventually all that was left in the kitchen were the true kitchen lovers…Because even by then all the kitchen activities were done but they preferred to sit back there and chat. Well good for you but that’s not my scene. I accept that your idea of party is chilling with the girls at the back and chatting, so similarly accept that my idea is mingling and chatting outside.
It’s amazing how easily one can judge this and say am rude, unladylike or the reverse to think the others who were in the kitchen were the enemy, backward etc… Yet if there’s something I learnt this day is that we are all but different sides of the same coin and we all make up the diverse image of Woman. We may divide ourselves as the women who love to be in the kitchen and those who don’t, and yet in reality apart from locality we aren’t that different. In fact once the others joined me outside, we found we had a lot in common… And eventually we ended up chatting about Manchester united, politics and not forgetting stretch marks, spouses etc… After all what’s female conversation if it doesn’t go down that road!
http://msbinafrica.wordpress.com/2011/06/29/woman-shall-not-dwell-in-kitchen-alone/
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