Fat... .Fatter....Fattest!

So I'll probably get slaughtered by some people for this....And others will just think I'm plain evil.
Oh well.............Same script I guess. Lol:-)
They can't hate me more than they already do!:-)

So I have decided that I'm no longer going to refer to people as being 'Big', or 'Voluptuous', or 'Plus Size'..........
Why??? you may ask....
Because all those terms are a cop out!
They are all just FAT. Yes i said it......and guess what, that includes myself......I'm not happy about it, but I'm not ashamed to admit it, and yes I would like to do something to remedy that situation.

The trainer at the gym today cringed when I said I was fat. He tried to correct me and and say that I shouldn't use that word. Lol. I told him I needed to use that word precisely for the reason that, if I wanted a change in my appearance and health levels, then I would need to hear the truth.

So you see, I think, it's actually counterproductive to use all those cop-out phrases I mentioned. It gives people a false sense of well being, a false sense of security....

You are what you eat. and I had the good fortune of having a very health conscious mother. So I grew up watching her exercise constantly, get us to be active, and get us to eat our vegetables and salads with every meal. She is the REAL Suburban Barbie, and I really hope, wish and pray that I age as gracefully as she is........but she didn't stuff her face every 2 hours with a muffin did she??....No....So I have to come to terms with the truth.
I am, what I eat....
And I eat a whole bunch of things that make me fat.
And I'm fat not by chance, or not because of crazy food additives in the food nowadays, or not by genetics, or for whatever other reason people always find as an excuse to justify their situation.......
I'm fat because I eat more than I need.

The first 2 weeks that I spent in the land of Obama was actually very depressing and stressful...because everywhere I went, all I could see was fat men and women waddling along.......everywhere!..Adults and children too........
If I should point this out, they would all get upset (as people here do ever so often!), and tell me (the foreigner) to probably pack my bags and go back where I came from (as they like to say).
But it really terrified me......and continues to terrify me.....
People are FAT. And I have a pretty good chance of turning into one of them if there is no intervention.

I watched my maternal grandmother, who had raised me, fall ill and die within a couple of months from complications due to diabetes, high blood pressure, high cholesterol, chronic kidney failure..........the works!
After she passed away, our diet at home was even more conscious...and i was super active then.......
I have since fallen off the wagon.

People think that my quest to be a certain size is all probably to do with looking good in a sexy bikini or something frivolous of that nature..........My quest to be a certain size is a very real life or death situation for me....
That's how i see it.
If only other people would see it that way.
Some people may argue that we are all going to die anyway.....but then my training as a health provider has also showed me that people can suffer for years from chronic illnesses solely based upon the activity that happens between your mouth and hands............

So I have pretty good chances of remedying this situation.
I don't drink alcohol, or smoke...therefore my ills are inactivity and increased weight, and yes, my BMI falls in fat zone for now (overweight).
There is constant talk here of the crazy obesity levels......the first lady is in this massive campaign to get kids to eat right because of the levels of childhood obesity...........but yet, no one says it just as it should be said, because people here are so obsessed with the thoughts of not hurting other people's feelings (though they would not hesitate to tell me to pack my bags and go back where I came from).........
Bottom line is, YES you are FAT, and you are FAT because you eat too much! So eat less, and get moving.

The first way to change your situation, is acceptance.
And without acceptance, there will be no real realization, no motivation to have a different scenario....
And you cannot accept something if you don't see that there is a problem in the first place. So sugar coating things will not help in changing the situation.

Some friends thought I was probably being funny by refusing to be 'politically correct' about fat people....And there will be some people who will think I'm picking on fat people.......You see, with the proportion of people here, even me, who is currently overweight, still appears to be much smaller than everyone else, and hence giving me a false sense of security too...So you see, they will never see ME as being fat, and they will think I'm picking on THEM and being insensitive.
As I said before, some things need to be said as it is.
I believe as woman, we should celebrate our different body types and shapes, but that doesn't translate into celebrating a health risk....You CAN be full of curves, and NOT be fat....The 2 are not synonymous.


So lifestyle change, here I am!

Do all things come in boxes???

"Would you consider yourselves an Inter-racial couple??"
Up until that question was posed to me, I hadn't actually thought about it......seems funny...but I hadn't really thought about it.....but what does it matter??
My husband is African American, and I am half-Indian and half-Somali ethnicity-wise, AND from Kenya.....
So are we an interracial couple?? Considering that phenotypically, I'm just a normal black woman? :-)

Talking to a gentleman at the department of Immigration gave me a bit of leeway with my kinda thinking luckily.
I asked him, what I should tick, with all those never ending forms that I've had to fill regarding ethnicity??
He said even he doesn't know what to tick because he's from Puerto Rico and doesn't fit into any category available! lolol. And as he rightfully said, it doesn't matter anyway.

I personally think, we human beings are obsessed with categorizing ourselves into every shape and form that we can think of, and somehow for whatever reason that gives us a comfort level.
I've never been at a level where I want to give someone a comfort level.
I want to be as different as can be.

This defiance didn't just come about right away however....It had to be slowly built after years of being in the front line of a constant stream of questioning....
Growing up was not easy....not easy in the least....with nowhere to really fit it, it took me more than 20 years to define who I was, and who I wanted to be.

Since there's a section of Somalis that do not consider themselves African, there is much confusion as to what people actually consider my father's people......African or not? Arab/not? or just Somali!
And since I didn't have a mother with 'ethnic African' roots anyway, my claim on being African, on being Kenyan, was always questioned.....always.
See in Africa, there's always the question of where your rural home is. And seeing that I was raised in the city and knew no other home, it was deemed that i was not really belonging to the land.
Where is your father from? Nairobi.
Where is your mother from? Nairobi.
No! you cannot be from Nairobi................where are you REALLY from???

From a very young age, this question puzzled me.
Every school holiday, most of my friends would go upcountry to their respective villages to visit their extended family.....they would go HOME.
But I never had such a 'home' per se.... My father was orphaned when young. His siblings were in the city along with us. My mothers family was also all in the city, and at that time, there was no concept of Afro-Asians. Despite being a 3rd generation Kenyan, my mother would always still be considered not African. So where was I meant to say I am from??
I never knew how to answer that question.

Then there was the phenotype issue.
The Somalis welcomed me, because I looked like them. but rejected my sisters (well, not verbally, but you could always see it) because they reminded my father's family that our mother was indeed an Indian, and not from coveted Somali bloodline.
The Indians on the other hand rejected me, and welcomed my sisters. My siblings would fit in better with them. I was just too much a shade darker for them to be comfortable with me. And in a society where being lighter skinned is what is defined as the standard of beauty, you can imagine how difficult it was to be consistently judged as the the ugly duckling.

So there you go.....
The Somalis wanted me, but would still always refer to me as the one with the Indian mother..and that rubbed me the wrong way.
The Indians didn't want me.
The rest of my fellow Kenyans didn't see me as a Kenyan...or as being a 'real' African.

So i grew up in a zone here and there, looking for others like myself....others who are displaced from society.

Going to Europe was a relief and a respite. There were no questions there, unless I ran into either one of my biological ethnic groups, then the quizzing began. Who is your father? Who is your mother? Which village are you from? etc etc etc.....
The formula never changes.....
But other than those few instances, it was a real relief. Nobody really CARED what I was and where I was from! Oh the joy......perhaps it is why I was so comfortable there. I never had to deal with that......gave my brain a break.

Moving to the Middle East brought back the all to familiar questions........Aargh!
Where are you from? No, where is you asli (origin)? Where is your mother from? Where is your father from?
Your mother married a black man? There were no Indian men there for her to marry???
The Middle East was a whole new level.
Other than the usual where are you from tirades, they mixed it with the racist colour issues as well.
Exasperating.
Worst of all is, the answers to all those questions are what determines whether you get a job, or good service anywhere, or just about anything done....
Actually worst was when my husband used to be constantly asked by Arabs as to why he married an African woman, when he has the chance to marry a white one, so that he can improve the colour of his children.........!!!
Their issues in that part of the world are just a little too deep for me....

So here I am now....with a whole new set of boxes to tick...this time not mentally, but also in every form that ever comes my way.....what it my ethnicity?
I still don't know the answer to that question.

They assume......
A lot of people do that round the world too, but here it's accentuated....and even when Americans leave their country, they carry that mind set with them. I don't think they are even aware that they do it.

For the most part however, there has been nothing unpleasant so far...or perhaps I'm comparing it with the Saudi Arabia where i just came from, and it would take a lot for anywhere else to reach that level of nastiness.
But really it hasn't been negative.
Just that people have been curious. and because they are so used to putting everyone in a box somehow, they just can't seem to figure me out.

As I said, it took me 20+ years to define who I was, and who I wanted to be.
And I consciously REFUSE to see colour. I refuse to.
I see people.
And just as I don't want people to put me in some box and assume things about me based on what they perceive I should be, I consciously make the effort not to do the same to others.

Why are we so afraid of people different from us?
Why do we feel threatened...uncomfortable....uneasy??
Why are we always striving to put everyone in some sort of category? whether it's tribes, skin colour, religious beliefs, ethnicities, body sizes.....you name it.
Countless times I get the most ridiculous questions and statements ever....like:
"Are you really Somali? but you speak such good English!"
"Wow, you are a very different Muslim. you are so easy going and tolerant to other people."
"Interesting, you seem to fit right into western society. I thought coming from Africa, this would be overwhelming for you."
"You should have married a Somali, and not DILUTED your blood any further"...!!!
And it goes on...........

I would like everyone to do an experiment...and see how many times a day, that you do categorize a person without a second thought? Without even getting to know them first.....how many times do you put a person in a box??? and WHY??

Is Bigger....Better???

Chronicles of the New World i think have finally started.....
The past 3 weeks have been ultra interesting....sometimes amusing, sometimes perplexing....mostly amusing thankfully.....:-)

I now understand why my hubby found England and everything in it small......because I am experiencing the reverse mental shot now....
Everything is big.......and by big, i mean BIGGGG.....

Of course there's certain advantages to having some aspects of things in a ginormous size....
The roads are wide and spacious....so i guess I'll never have to be paranoid about another car being too close to me, plus, it makes it seem like traffic is non-existent....well at least in my mind (and if you have ever sat in traffic in Nairobi, you will find traffic here non-existent, believe me!).....

So the movie theatre chairs are also big and comfy, and just right for my ample African behind.
The TVs are big too, so I suppose you can have a whole home cinema feel at no extra cost.....

But then, here we go.....I never finish my food at restaurants!...and if you know my love for food, you will see how this distresses me.
So my refrigerator is now full of little take-home food boxes from several restaurants...evidence that I could not finish my meal at the initial designated venue......
The drinks are super big too......necessitating frequent trips to the bathroom from a complaining bladder that is not accustomed to such volumes.....and we all know how I feel about public bathrooms! Ha!

And the thing is, the evidence of where all the food goes is all around us.........
I just wonder......don't they see it as well??
I know I'm far from small in size, in all proportions.....so when I'm around people and I feel small most of the time.........there's a problem!

I see walking heart attacks, hypertensives and diabetics everywhere, and it worries me that I might be dragged into a false sense of  well being.....you know, like, so long as I'm not as big as them then I'm okay......NOT!

The cars are big too, hence more comfortable to sit in...but then more carbon emissions some would argue.....and we all complain about changing weather patterns and adverse climate conditions...

Love the fact that the ice creams cones are towers of joy....but then looking at the waist line brings all the misery back......

My impression about here was always that, that things are seen to be better when they are bigger....have to outdo everyone else in the world I suppose....have to dwarf everything else.

But then where do we draw the line???
My new city was listed as the most obese in the previous year apparently....should i be worried? hell yeah!
I spent many years seeing people suffer because of  lack of food..........so how can I reconcile myself with unnecessary monumental amounts of food on plates either going down people's throats, or left to be thrown away in the garbage cans?

Should i see it as luxury and indulge??
Or should i see it was gluttony and wastefulness?
Time will tell.

The B factor...

How do i start....?
We all know about it....
We all sometimes allude to it....
But we never really talk about it.

Why do women hate other women??
Ok...maybe hate is a strong word....
Perhaps we can replace that with a contempt of sorts....

But really...why??
Some call it jealousy...others call it rivalry...others call it simply what it really is, being a B.

When we are young girls, it's passed off as being rivalry....
These are seedlings that will grow into huge baobab trees, living forever, and growing deeper roots with each passing year.
I don't think it's really given its true importance and recognition, and perhaps if it was, and stopped in its tracks as children, then we might have a different picture as adults.

We all live with the adage that women are always mean to other women.
Its a known factor isn't it??
One minute she'll be smiling with the man infront of you, then turn to you and give you a scowl.
Like, what did i do to you??
Have the perfect amiable demanour with a man, and just be downright nasty to another woman.
Full of scorn.
Full of some undefined bitterness.

Its something I've never understood.
And secretly, many women prefer to deal with men instead, be it at work, in stores, or even as friends.
How many times have you heard someone say, it's just less drama.....

Why do we look at other women through this prism?
As competition. As something to stomp on.
Why can't we be happy for other women in their successes and accomplishments?
Why are we always trying to tear each other down??

We are always whining about it being a hard world for women...that we live in a patriachal society...that we are never given our rights as human beings....that we have more obstacles being viewed as the weaker sex...
But do we ever really realize and acknowledge that our own true enemy is ourselves??

If i look at another woman and admire her beautiful dress, then turn around in the same millisecond and hate on her for having it.....how will that change my own personal situation for the lack of that dress in my own wardrobe??
And this extends to everything....be it a good job, a nice house, a wonderful husband, delightful children, swanky car, amazing holiday, gorgeous jewellary, beautiful hair, sexy shoes......you name it!

We are always trying to put a dent into another womans world...
Why??
Does that really make us truly feel more validated with our lives?
Or the lack of what's in it??

By tearing another woman down, will that change and make better the situation we ourselves are in...??
situations that we allow ourselves to stay in?
situations that we chose for ourselves?

By hating on another woman, does that make you feel better?
make you feel like you have now achieved something??
is that the answer then?

My perception has always been it's downright pathetic...and very pitiful.
Recognize your self esteem issues and work on them, instead of projecting them onto every female you come across.
And like many others, i choose to stay away from all the drama....
Away from the B factor.

Family Matters

One month just flew by.....hardly noticed it as it slipped away.
I guess time flies when you're having fun...or when you're just super busy! Ha!:-)

Being home the first week was just like looking into the past, slipped right back into daughter/sister/niece role, and then when The Mr. arrived, I was brought back into the present...
I think I prefer the present. Apparently I acquired a new status and form of respect as the Mrs. of somebody!:-) Lol.

So all and sundry descended upon the Land of Cool Waters (a.k.a Nairobi) to be part of two people coming together as one.
Old relations, old stories, new inclusions, new stories....like a huge bubbling melting pot.
Old squabbles forgotten and forgiven...new ones in the making:-)

Whether we like them or not, as we all say regularly, they are our families.
But then again, do we think, what and who would we be if these individuals were not in our lives??

You see, granted, friends are the family we choose....and we choose them, because they have common interests as us, or they have similar ideals, outlooks, perceptions, thoughts, actions, words, dreams..........you name it....BIRDS OF A FEATHER FLOCK TOGETHER.
So it's easier to be around them...
It's not a challenge...
It's not going to push us to the edge...take us out of our comfort zones...

Then there's family.....!
Half the time, you think, if i had a choice, this wouldn't be my family!:-)
You're born, thrown in with a bunch of people who may or may not understand you....or half the time couldnt be bothered to....
and you all JUST HAVE TO GET ALONG...SOMEHOW....
Right??
Riiiiiiiiiiight!

But isn't that the true test then???
These people who have been around you since time immemorial,
Who probably think most of the stuff you've done is dumb anyway,
Who cheered you whenever possible regardless,
Who fought you tooth and nail as you were taking steps towards jumping off a cliff......
These very same people.......who may not even LIKE you....but despite that, still LOVE you...
These very same people we always THINK we would like to replace.....
These very same people......OUR FAMILIES.

We wouldn't be us, if it wasn't for our families...be it the good, the bad, the ugly, or the real pretty.
They are the ones who truely shape us into what we are as grown beings.
They have nothing to gain, nothing to lose...but are still there regardless.

To my family...old and new....this is for you.

Unpaused........

So my lovely national carrier caused me to remain an extra four hours in the Gulf....just when I very badly wanted to get out of there....trust me, i was least amused...
Stuck....In transit.....

Airports are interesting places though..........a whole melting pot of people from all over the globe. Human beings, so diverse, yet so very much the same in so many ways.
So a journey begins, and then you get suspended somewhere for a time, waiting for your next boarding time, waiting to continue on with the next phase of your journey.

And in a funny way, such is life..........if you really think about it.

Have you ever had times when there were moments at a stretch where you were just sort of existing, stuck in some sort of limbo, finding your way, not really sure.....not really living???
Thinking.
Deciding.
Weighing options.
Analyzing.
Contemplating.

I moved from the life of a Ferrari on the superhighway, to that of a donkey ride, gently plodding along the dirt road. It seemed that i had come to a stop, not realizing i was still moving along, just at a different pace.
And more importantly, I was still moving along, just that the world had gone on pause.

Some people climb mountains....others take sabbaticals....others go sit in a cave somewhere.....I decide to move to the Middle East.....and my world went on pause.
Because of the change in pace, for a time it did really feel like i was just existing.
I think humans really are just creatures of habit...we don't appreciate change.
Sometimes we are just too scared of change, or of confronting ourselves, or of breaking away from the norm.
It took a while to realize it was a golden opportunity...
To think.
To analyze.
To plan.
To introspect.
TO APPRECIATE.

Through change, we grow....and when we grow, only then do we truly live.

And so today, as I zoomed around in my mothers car...going down roads all too familiar....walking through malls that i can navigate blind folded....appreciating all the sights, sounds and smells...all I could do was smile.
I have changed...but all around me still was the same.
It still was all there, just as I left it.
And that's what we all don't realize. It will always still be there, be the same, when we get back to it.
Like old friends meeting again.....my world is now unpaused.

Bitter Sweet Goodbyes

"You speak English!!!"
And that was the day i made my first friend in the desert.

You see, it had been over TWO months now, and i really had not spent quality time with another human being other than the better half.
I had made the random acquaintances, but these were people so far removed from my reality, that we might have as well have been living on different planets.
Many times i really thought we did.
People who did not understand why i wanted to study and work, or earn my own money, or drive myself around for that matter. I mean, why would you want all that when you can have everything done for you??
That was the rationale that didn't quite seem to connect with my own gray matter.

Two weeks after arriving in the desert, I broke down like i was at a funeral. And that came with the realization that the ONLY person that i had spoken to at all in those two weeks, was the very same person that i went to bed with every night.
The better half was at a loss of what to do. Poor thing. He didn't know how to stop me disintegrating......to make it all better.
The hugs did help however:-)
One if his best suggestions was that I join the women's gym!
Hurray!:-) Somewhere where i could meet people, and give me something to look forward to everyday.
After one week of constant uncomfortable stares (I was after all, the only dark skinned woman in that place and hence supposedly out of place)...and a super language barrier, it was like a voice from above, my ears couldn't believe it....
"You speak English!!!"
That one sentence changed my whole life.

And so like a little lost puppy, I was now found, by my own kind.

To my utter surprise, there were loads of Non-Arab English speaking ladies, nicely tucked away in villas with high walls.
Suddenly, I could breathe again:-)
Real human contact.
They took me into their world, and i ceased being a bystander in their society. I was now part of it all. And what a ride it was!

To say that i felt like a nurtured baby when i was with them is an understatement.
And these bunch of voracious ladies saved many from a literal insanity spree.
To be able to give your opinion without crushing fragile egos....
To be able to laugh out loud till you're out of breathe....
To be able to dance like a scarecrow without a care in the world....
To be able to hug someone and feel the warmth in their hearts....
To be as free as a bird for a limited time and space.

They were my true oasis.
And as i parted from them, my heart ached, for they will never truly know how much love and appreciation I hold for them.

My sisters in the desert....This one is dedicated to you.