Observations: Women

Now to begin, this is not psychoanalysis of the female mind. I am far from qualified to perform such a task both academically and socially. Hell, I don’t even have a basic understanding of the female mind. I am far, far, far under qualified to tell you “what women want”. I don’t mean to be overly self-deprecating, but it should be stated beforehand that I am lousy at understanding women. Even my closest relationships with women commonly contain heated arguments and unfathomable misunderstandings. Seriously, I’m bad; so, going into this, just remember: I’m just making an observation.

Back in the States, women were confusing, but they at least made sense. I knew when they were angry, sad, happy, you know, general emotions, but here in Vanuatu, the land of passive-aggression and backwards emotions (if emotions are shown at all) I do not have a chance. In Port Vila it is many times easier. Port Vila has the heavy Western influence though – not so much on the outer islands. This brings me to my main point: Yangfala Gel (Young Girls) – girls ranging from mid-teens to my age and older (if they are still not married). You would think I would connect better with girls my own age opposed to being good friends with all the Mamas, who are 30 – 50+ with multiple children, but no, the opposite is true. I also fall into a different age bracket. While my age and single status qualifies me as a Yangfala, my education and position in the village push me up to Olfala – so I am like an Old Guy in a Young Guys body with the mentality of a Young Guy (somewhat). But to get back to the point: the women of my general age in the village. Generally, I am met with curious stares and nervous giggles. While at any of their houses with their parents (Young Women don’t move out of home until they are married) I am constantly pampered like I am unable to function on my own. Recently, during a health talk I made on Sexual Reproductive Health with the village in which I split the Talks into four groups – Young Girls, Mamas, Young Boys, and Papas –, I was confronted with the full range of emotions. While waiting for answers, which were extracted like pulling teeth (if at all), I was met with intense nervous giggles and eyes refusing to make any form of eye contact. While talking, I was met with random burst of nervous giggles and stares that immediately shied if I even glanced that direction.

Normally when I am met with laughter while making a speech, I presume that I said something wrong or stupid. So I’m standing there wondering if my fly is down – not the case – so WTF!? with the random bursts of giggles (it’s like they have hysterical hiccups). I just can’t grasp it; all the different emotions I can think of just don’t seem to fit. I believe they are just incredibly nervous around me, but that answer I just can’t understand. I believe they would go out of their way to avoid even hinting at a disparaging remark or action, so that would eliminate laughing at me. Maybe the subject matter, but no I’ve made groups of them explode into nervous giggles and quick, under-the-breath, local language conversations just by looking and saying ‘Hello’. This is a normal and common reaction that leaves me bewildered. How would I ever court (yes I used the word ‘court’ and I will damn well use it again) a woman in Naviso? If I ever tried talking to her, the conversation would be one-sided and she would be attacked by random fits of giggles. Besides the fact that courting would involve me coming in the night and knocking at her house until she came outside (this act is very appropriately called ‘creeping’). But if she is going to burst into giggles the moment I talk to her that will probably wake up the rest of the house – so much for being inconspicuous (defeating the purpose of creeping in the first place). Hell, I can even make some of the Mamas burst with giggles with a timed and concentrated look.

One time as I was walking to the other side, myself and two of my brothers passed a group of the Yangfala Gel on their way back over; we were going down a hill, them up the hill. As we reached the bottom and started climbing the other side out of the small valley, I glanced behind to find each and everyone looking at me and my brothers. At a prompting from my brother I asked, in local language, “What are you looking at?” The answer I received? “You.” – a clear and definitive “You.” Well, I don’t have the beginning of a clue. I’m not even sure you can call this an observation: I can’t even hypothesize based on this.