How do you measure a year?

A favorite song of mine from the musical Rent, asks, “How do you measure a year?”

Hum along if you know it……

“Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes,
Five hundred twenty-five thousand moments so dear.
Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes
How do you measure, measure a year?

In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights
In cups of coffee
In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife…..”

With the advent of 2012, it seems like Ryan and I have been hearing more and more from our friends here and back home, “Now when do you go/come back?”  While we’ve had an amazing experience here in South Africa, and truthfully don’t want to think about leaving, these questions from friends have given me pause to reflect on our time here.  We’re now 7-month residents of Pretoria, and have learned a lot.

But, how do you measure a year?  When I went home for a short time for Grandma Chum’s funeral, I was stymied by well-intended questions like, “How’s South Africa?  Do you like it there?” and, “What’s it like?”  How can you sum up, at this point, 7 months of new experiences, trials, tribulations, victories, riddles, wonderment, learning, love, friendship, and sometimes a little disappointment and homesickness (Yes, I said it, Mom.)?

Back to the song “Seasons of Love.”

Rock hyrax Procavia capensis, or "dassie." Actually the elephant's closest relative, but at about 7 pounds.

Maybe I could measure our year in orange and pink South African sunsets we marveled over in game parks like Nkomazi or just up the hill on campus where Indie chases dassies.

Or maybe in cups of coffee…..in the dozens of macchiatos Ryan and I drank with Gary and Peggy Ifft in Ethiopia.  Maybe I could measure our year in the travel mugs of coffee I’ve carried with me on the bus to my department at the University of Pretoria.  My colleagues think I’m making my own Starbuck’s at home–isn’t that what Americans drink?  It’s true the genteel cups and saucers in my department are lovely, but how can I get enough caffeine only 6 – 8 ounces at a time?

Inches and miles are not the way to measure time spent in South Africa.  Try centimeters and kilometers.  I’m making my housekeeper’s little girl an outfit to wear at her 5th birthday party, by measuring her tiny waist in cm, and buying a meter of pink polka dot fabric.  And we’re now fully accustomed to asking how many “k’s” away the restaurant or a friend’s home is.

Laughter may be the way to measure our year.  We laughed at our mistakes in asking for napkins (ahem…feminine products) with our popcorn at the movies.  We giggled at our South African friends’ and hair stylists’ imitations of New Yorkers and Southerners.  We roared at other Fulbrighters’ (Anna and sheRyan – you know who you are ) stories of crooked cops, quirky menu items (anyone for a burrito with raisin chutney?), and tedious customer service experiences, where we we wondered, “What actually happened back there?  Was it because of our accents?  Did I speak too fast (common for me, but not for Ryan)?  How did we end up with a whole bottle of wine instead of a glass?  Why did that man insist we just come back tomorrow and try again?  Why is this place closing at 2:45 on a Tuesday?”

There has been a whole lot of laughter and not a lot of strife, and when there was strife, we laughed about it later.

Seven months, that is, three hundred six thousand, eight hundred and three minutes, spent in South Africa so far.   We’ve most definitely had and continue to have moments so dear.  Two hundred nineteen thousand, one hundred forty-five minutes to go.

Doing Gender

Yes, it’s me (Jenny) again for the second time on the blog.  And yes, I am still here.  Ryan’s been a runaway success with the blog, whereas I’ve been a rather reticent participant.  But I am coming around to seeing its value.  While he’s on photo safari (learning from professional photographers while on safari–much like it sounds I guess!) this weekend, it seems like a good time for me to post.

My research project here in South Africa which was funded by a Fulbright award (U.S. Department of State, Bureau of Educational and Cultural Affairs funding for students, scholars, teachers, and professionals to undertake graduate study, advanced research, and university teaching), is about gender.  I’ve always had an interest in understanding why men and women are viewed and view themselves differently in the workplace.  And some of my recent research projects have focused on new ways of understanding the glass ceiling, that is, invisible yet salient barriers that impede women and other minorities’ progress in organizations.  Here in South Africa, I’m working with Dr. Stella Nkomo at the University of Pretoria to understand whether companies who have gender equity at the top (women represented on their boards of directors and in top management) not only experience better financial performance, but also–and this is what I’m really interested in–have more positive work climates for women at all levels.  So, are women on Boards and in top management simply a matter of “window-dressing,” or is their presence a true indicator of an equitable workplace?

While I focus on these topics every day at work, “doing gender” is not just what I do, it seems more and more to be a lens through which I view the world.  More on that in just a second–but first, a funny story.  I’ve become friends with another Fulbrighter here in Pretoria, Dr. Hannah Britton from the University of Kansas.  She’s a political scientist who also “does gender” but her focus is on violence against women and girls, and women’s representation in governments in Africa.  [So as I’m writing this, I’m thinking that maybe this isn’t going to be funny to you, but it is to me.]  Hannah has become known as the “gender person” at an organization she works with here in South Africa.  Recently, a well-intended coworker showed up in her office and asked her if she could, quite simply, “write something about gender” for her.  [That was the funny part, in case you missed it.]  Presumably this was for a grant, or for a newsletter, or something.  But we had a laugh about what “something about gender” would be:  “Well, I’m a girl…..,”  “sugar and spice and everything nice, that’s what little girls are made of…,” or “hear me roar….,”–you get the point.

Now back to the idea of gender being a lens:  a South African cultural example.  Our house on the Education campus includes the services of a housekeeper, not once every two weeks as is probably standard in the U.S., but…get this…every day Monday through Friday.  So about 9AM every weekday a really friendly, clever, candid, funny, hard-working young woman [note: I don’t want to use her name without her permission] shows up at our house to do dishes, sweep and vacuum, make beds, clean bathrooms, dust, etc.  And on Friday she swaps the bedsheets, duvets, and towels out with clean ones.  She cleans our house and three others on campus every day.  She works very hard and for this she makes around R 700 per month (or $97).  Right now her husband is out of work, and she is supporting him and their two children on this salary.  It may be tempting to say, oh, but the cost of living must be cheaper there.  Not really.  Gas is about one and a half times the U.S. price.  The 2006 car we bought is worth about $10K here whereas the book value would be about half that in the States.  And groceries are really pricey–definitely higher than at home.

While this woman supports her family by cleaning my house (and puts up with my dog following her from room to room), I’m off to my nice office at the University.  As the Phil Collins’ song goes, “Oh, think twice.  Just another day for you and me in paradise.”  I have a lot of thoughts about her life versus my life, and all of the privileges I’ve had and continue to enjoy.  Just because I have the education, skin color, and opportunities that I have, my job is not physically demanding, clean, and comes with resources like healthcare, travel, enough money to live comfortably, and a degree of respect.  Whereas, how many years will she able to stand on tile floors, bend, and carry to support her family?  As a woman “doing gender” in the context of work, how can I dismiss the differences in the lives that we lead, now so tightly entwined with one another?

Yet she has a strong sense of self, and has pride in the hard work she does every day.  Lest you fall into a deep depression due to the previous paragraph, let me give you an example of how she is clever and candid.  I made 2 dozen or so biscuits last week, and I left several in a baggie on our kitchen counter with her name on it.  When I saw her on Friday, she thanked me for the “cookies.”  She was VERY surprised that they tasted good.  First, she said she was puzzled by this because she thought American women “couldn’t cook.”  She asked how I made them, in a tone that was a little skeptical that I had actually done it, which I assured her I had.  Then, she told the story of her family sitting down together for dinner, telling them that these “cookies” were made by an American, and literally asking them all to pray that they would be edible.  🙂

Our housekeeper is a strong, assertive, young woman, with a good sense of humor, who, despite the fact that her cleaners’ union is now out on strike, continues to come early, work hard, and perform death-defying acts of eating food made by Americans.  I came to South Africa to “do gender” in the ivory tower of academia, studying privileged women working in corporate jobs.  Little did I know that perhaps the most valuable lessons I’d learn would happen in my own home.

South African Cleaners - On-strike Since August 3

Jenny’s First Day

Okay, so I guess it’s time you heard my voice on the blog.  (This is Jenny).

We’ve been here a week and a day, and are learning exponentially.  Culture and the use of language especially fascinate me, and South African customs and English usage are just different enough from ours that it’s been a lot of fun uncovering, understanding, and trying to make our way here.  Ryan is the perfect partner to have this experience with–he is excellent at decoding new cultural experiences and loves experiencing and discussing them as much as I.

As Ryan wrote, Friday was a wonderful day.  Thanks to my mentor and host at the University of Pretoria, the esteemed Professor Stella Nkomo, and the rest of the Department of Human Resource Management, I was warmly welcomed to the Department.  A mid-morning tea was held to welcome Ryan and me, complete with traditional South African hors d’oeuvres (think meats, cheeses, and custards in phyllo pastry) and tea, all served on real china.  The group photo is of all attendees–faculty, staff, and a couple of student workers.  Stella, especially, has done so much to get us here, and to help us settle into our new lives.

To say I was overwhelmed by the warm welcome would be an understatement.  My office was all ready for me, complete with two welcome signs (see photo), fresh tulips, and office supplies.  Everyone couldn’t have been nicer.  I’m sure I’m going to like it here.

By and large, I can tell you, South Africans are very, very friendly.  As a new colleague in my Department related, “If you say you like oranges, careful, or tomorrow you’ll have two bags.”

Next week I hope to dig into the research I’m here to do:  looking at the impact of race and gender on South African women’s career progress.  I’ll start the week by attending some of the sessions from the Department of Sociology and the Institute for Women’s and Gender Studies’ conference on campus:  Gender in question: rights, representation and substantive freedom.  There are some sessions on the program I’m interested in regarding women in the workplace, feminism in modern South Africa, and quota systems for women’s representation in government. Ryan and I will both be attending the opening sessions tomorrow, Sunday.

I’m ready to learn, and the great folks in my new department have provided the forum for me to do so.