Cooking and Eating; A Creative RecipeFemininity (My opinion)Could cooking be a feminist act? Could one resist, fight and make changes by cooking? Being involved in 'traditionally feminine' activities may be stressful, painful and even embarrassing for feminists. Sometimes I wonder; is it really conforming to patriarchal norms? Isn't stigmatising activities that are traditionally seen as feminine a patriarchal norm? We we shouldn't be embarrassed to be engaged with 'feminine' activities:
Food is ImportantFood is a very important part of our lives because of its survival-value but it is also important because of the symbolic value which it acquires within our societies. The stories of foods and ingredients are interwoven with the lives and fates of people. Food is part of peoples' work, business, mental health, interpersonal relationships and so much more. The process of preparing and consuming a dish may be necessity, celebration, resistance, a ceremony, declaration of love and caring. That’s why Fermina Daza in 'Love in the time of Cholera' despises her mother in law’s most cooked ingredient; eggplants. That's why her journey towards emotional maturity includes embracing this ingredient as part of her diet. A creative RecipeThis is a recipe I once found on the internet. I have changed it so heavily that it only vaguely resembles the original:
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Sometimes we know our friends' stories because we grew up together. Sometimes we can't imagine what brought our friends where we met them. That's why I asked my friend that day: 'How come you live here?', I asked and he answered, and I listened. I realised that his life had been a little bit different to mine. And that day at school I learned that wars are real, that wars actually affect the lives of people. I realised that very few things are as permanent as I thought, that every time you see someone it may be the last one. So this is his story from his perspective: "I am Palestinian. I was born in Iraq and lived there for the 15 first years of my life. I wasn't given Citizenship but I was given travel documents... which I could not use by 2007. I knew exactly why we had to leave Iraq that first time in 2007 even though my dad wouldn't tell me. I had been through so much danger so I kinda knew what was going on; it was either leaving or getting killed. I witnessed many assassinations and killings; militants killing civilians. The reasons were mainly political and religious. We ran away to Syria using illegal Iraqi passports; the plan was getting to Sweden via Turkey and settling down there. At the airport in Turkey some of our money was stolen. Our money couldn't get us to Sweden anymore so we had to get a smuggler who'd sell us tickets that we could afford. The smuggler said there was somewhere cheaper and closer; Cyprus. That's how we ended up there. After a month in Turkey we got in a fishing boat and travelled to Cyprus from a city called Antalya. I am not certain as to how many hours we spent in that boat. Something like 20 hours (or even more) before we arrived at the Cypriot shores of Kerynia. We walked for several hours, I remember walking through some farms and passing some fence. At around 2am we found ourselves in Larnaca. I lost track of time while travelling but I know that we probably spent 28 hours travelling because we left the apartment in Turkey at 10pm and we arrived in Larnaca at around 2am. In Larnaca, we surrendered to the immigration office where we got registered. We were allowed to live in Cyprus but we weren't given permission to work, travel or attend the University before we get asylum as political refugees. I could go to school though. It was a new beginning and as such it was hard. I was a 15 year old boy in a new country where I couldn't speak the language. It really was difficult for me. I couldn't speak Greek and the kids at school would make fun of me for not being able to talk with them in their language. My english was good enough to communicate with people who could speak English. Some student helped me find the way to the classroom and some tried to talk to me and be friendly. I had a classmate from Palestine, he couldn’t speak any English or Greek but we could both speak Arabic... The first year was the most difficult. The second year I managed to communicate in Greek. Everything changed; my classmates were friendlier, they 'd invite me out, especially to birthday parties. That's when I became good friends with my classmates. My life went back to normal, I was actually having a good time. I felt loved by so many people who didn't make me feel like I was different. Just like always, there were a few racist people. Some teachers, some students, some people in my environment... But I did have friends who helped me feel good. I graduated high school in Larnaca. It was tough because of the language but I finished high school with good grades, I guess. I still could not make it to the major I dreamt of. Another year passed by, I had been living in Larnaca for 7 years. In 2013 the government's decision as to whether we were accepted as a permanent residents was taken. The decision was negative. We received a rejection letter which mentioned that we did not have good reasons to leave Iraq and therefore we couldn't be given asylum in Cyprus. The allowance we were getting was cut and so we couldn't keep living there. I guess, if we had some more money we could stay there as 'investors'; it could be easier to get permit for permanent residence. There was the option of fleeing to another European country. Some people went to other European countries from Cyprus but we didn't have enough money to buy our way out. At the time the cost was around 8000$. Keep in mind that everything was actually illegal. Staying was illegal, going to another country was illegal, even leaving Cyprus was illegal. There was no other option but to go back to Iraq; where I was born. We went back to Iraq in 2013; the situation was still tough. Militias were killing civilians, the government were killing civilians because of political and religious reasons. The situation wasn't ideal and I wanted to escape again. I still had my Palestinian passport; I left to Malaysia in 2014. These experiences changed me a lot; the way I think, the way I live. Before these, I thought life was simple, I wasn't interested in politics or economics. Now, I am so much into it, now I see. I never cared about people and I never thought of what they may be going through. Now, I know how difficult life is for people like us. I know what people go through during wars. I know what it means to be a refugee your whole life. As for Palestine... I can’t really describe my feelings about it. I’ve never knew how it feels to live in your own country. I always felt unwanted. In Iraq, in Syria, in Turkey, in Cyprus, and now in Indonesia. I always am a foreigner. That's why Palestine will always be a concept that words are unable to describe." Mohammed Alshaban This entry includes two poems. 'A Different take on Confidence' by Demz and my 'Protest Femininity'.
The initial idea was to describe our experience as women who have to survive in male dominated fields. The entry could have been a conversation, a narrative, pictures, drawings, a play, a recording...anything. We both chose to put our thoughts to words. My friend's poem describes certain features of her behaviour that lead others to perceive her as 'not confident' and therefore 'less competent'. In this poem she is re-assessing the value of the very properties of confidence. 'Protest Femininity' can be seen as a continuation of 'A different take on Confidence'. I have tried to write about my impression that certain behavioural qualities are seen as connected to 'femininity' and carry negative connotations. If you have any similar experiences within environments that misunderstand you or ascribe to you properties that do not correspond to your perception of self you can send your own work to pinkpapayasblog.gmail.com Despina |
AuthorsTwo lazy papayas who want to share their thoughts with the world from the comfort of their armchair. Archives |