So damn easy to say that life's so hard

Typical. (A Haiku)
Stove, without gas.
Buy the tank, cord, clamp, and all.
Now, gas, but no stove.

My mom always says, in a (half) joking way, of course, that the feminists ruined it for all of us. That, before they got all indignant, all women were expected to do was stay and home and bake. No long hours stuck in some stuffy office, no heavy lifting, no exhausting yard work. Sure, they had to clean the house, but they had all week to do that. I, being the product of a three-generation, all women household, tended to argue with her about it. I have always been one of those “indignant” feminists.

Guatemala has only recently found it’s feminist side. In fact, the majority of the population (both men and women) still thinks of feminism as a vigorous “down with men” type of attack on the male species. When you ask someone on the street what they think the word means, the most common answer is that it refers to people who think women are better than men.

Needless to say, the feminist movement here is in its VERY preliminary stages. It’s a success if you get a woman to vote. Yes, it drives me insane when we try to schedule a meeting and the women say they can’t come because they have to cook lunch for their husbands. I want to scream when my neighbor tells me she doesn’t travel anymore because her husband won’t let her. In fact, being in Guatemala has probably made me more of a feminist than I ever was back home (who knew it was possible?).

That being said, I have been enjoying the fringe benefits that come with the assumption that I am a weak, helpless woman; the convenient (albeit fairly chauvinistic) chivalry that accompanies the machismo. It’s kind of nice that the bus guys carry my groceries for me, and that I can get a guy to let me have the front seat on the ride home. I appreciate not being expected to carry the heavy floor mats from the meeting hall to the office.

Granted, I would never trade these little conveniences for the undoubtedly more valuable rights and privileges I am afforded as an American woman. I am constantly finding new things to be thankful for- that I never had to question whether I would attend high school or not, that I was never expected to serve the men and boys lunch before I ate, that I got to play sports and other activities after school instead of having to go home and clean the house. But, I must say that when I have a huge jug of water and an even huger hill to climb, and a man comes along and carries it home for me without hesitation, I do have to briefly agree with my old fashioned mother.

Now, if we could only create a future where the death of chauvinism does not equal the death of chivalry… But, we can’t always have it all, can we?