There was a day when I cleared some brush. That may not seem like a big deal to you, but it's been a long time since I've done that! In our home, a woman in my position would never clear brush, would almost never do any kind of manual labor. Women with less money and status do work like that all the time. Women walk by my house every day carrying wood, grass, hay, or other things on their heads. A woman used to come to our house to cut the grass in the back of the yard for her cows. I remember one day, after a big rain, when the grass was extremely wet. She had piled the grass onto a piece of fabric, tied the edges around, and couldn't lift it to her head. My neighbor came out to help her and the two of them couldn't lift it. They called me over and we all strained to get that bundle -- well over 100 pounds of grass -- situated on her head. She stepped up the steep bank, through my low gateway, and out the gate, heading up the mountain. I've seen other women stacking 12 bricks on a padded circle on their heads while their husbands and brothers built a wall. So, it's not that women don't work like that.
It's just that, in the culture where we live, if you have the money, you don't do the work yourself. You hire someone. And, if you're a woman with money, men won't let you lift anything or carry anything. I can remember when we were moving from one house to another. I was barely allowed to bring cushions to load in the back of our car. They were struggling with an especially heavy chest of drawers, but when I tried to pick up a corner to help out, they scolded me away. I tried doing some gardening one time and it was such a strange thing that the young men who were playing cricket behind our house stopped their game to come ask me why I was in the garden! So, I learned to let the gardener do it, to hire someone when I had a big job, to not shame my husband or my employees by doing manual work that they could do.
It was a hard thing to get used to. I grew up on a farm. I pulled weeds, watered and fed animals, baled hay, and did lots of other tasks from the time I was little. It would drive me nuts if someone assumed I couldn't do one of these tasks because I was a girl. I would work even harder to prove that my Dad didn't need sons on his farm. Whenever I moved, I carried my own boxes and furniture. I did my own gardening. I did my own housework. It was such a change to pay others to do something that I had been taught was my duty. I used to think that people who would hire someone to do a task they could do themselves were stuck up and spoiled. But now, if I do those tasks, people think I'm stingy because I won't give someone a job who needs it. It's a complete shift of understanding.
So, here I am, back at my Mom's until international flights start again . . . and she had brush to clear. It felt so good to get moving, to break up those sticks, to feed the brush fire, to hack away at things. Today my hands are raw because they haven't done that kind of work in so long. I'm sitting here rolling my eyes at my stuck up, spoiled self -- as if that farm girl was seeing a rich city kid trying to keep up with her. My muscles are sore today, but they feel great. I'm tired today, but it felt worthwhile.
The other side of myself wishes that I could have hired someone to do that job -- someone who hasn't eaten well the last few weeks because their work is closed. Not because I didn't enjoy it. I loved it. But, because they need it more than I do. By God's grace, the two cultures I'm from won't constantly war against one another. By God's grace, they'll keep educating each other and I'll be able to bless my Mom and the neighbors I'm missing.
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