We feel
fairly safe entering the world everyday without brutal honesty and judgement
hitting us in the face. We do our best to project ourselves confidently through
our actions, speech and appearance, and hope to receive mostly positive responses.
Most of us desire critical feedback, but only when requested, in order to grow
and make improvements.
I was working on a post about the things in my current life
that I have become accustomed to living in a foreign culture that would still
sound rather strange to others, but I put those thoughts on hold to address one
of my biggest challenges I still face living here. This is something that I
have not been able to get used to as merely a cultural difference. I have
addressed appearance and image in prior posts, but it’s often on my mind and I
believe my thoughts on the issue to be evolving the longer I am here. I hope
that looking back on this blog, it will be representative of reflections that
dominate my mind as will the frequency with which I address the most pervasive
themes in my everyday life.
I realized recently that I have become more self-conscious
when it comes to my physical appearance than I remember being in the last 8 or
so years of my life. This has become more dominant in the past month or so,
whereas at the beginning of my time in Cambodia and at site the constant
comments about appearance didn’t quite penetrate my subconscious. When I first
arrived, entering the market meant comments on my pointy nose and white skin
(highly desirable traits) were coming from every which way contributing to how sa-at (beautiful) I was considered. While
this got tiring and I even complained about constantly hearing how beautiful I
was, it never quite bothered me the way it does when I’m told I am toe-at (fat). Other than being a rather
unfortunate sounding word in Khmer, the labeling and judgement I assume comes
with this comment is troublesome. Here being called fat is not the same as if a
stranger were to do so in America, but coming from American culture, it doesn’t
hurt any less when this word is slung at me. At first, I would always explain
that I’m just bigger than Khmer people and I’m normal sized in other cultures,
but when you hear this word often enough, it makes you wonder. I should explain
that it’s not meant as an insult here; people would prefer to not be so skinny
but their childhood nourishment of mostly rice stunts their growth quite a bit.
Another thing to note is one day you may be fat, but the next you could be
skinny again. I even start to believe
that it’s possible I visibly gained 5 pounds from one day to the next.
When people are constantly commenting on my appearance or
clearly sizing me up with their eyes, my gaze turns inward more than ever. Comments
like these have felt more noticeable as of late because the receiving line of housewives
and yeays (grandmas) that keep my
host sister company as she works have become more vocal. The front of my house
is my host sister’s tailoring business. She sits at all hours of the day at her
sewing machine working. The front of our house thus serves as a gathering point
for women, babies, yeays and anyone
else who’s looking for a place to gossip and ongui lang (sit-play). Any time I exit the house, I am subject to
their comments which used to me more asking where I was going and at this point
are strictly regarding my appearance. This can get old quick and obviously kind
of frustrating. My host sister is very understanding of difference and Western
culture in a way that most Khmer people aren’t, so she is not one to launch
these comments at me. However, this doesn’t lessen the onslaught from the
others. Fellow PCVs and I have expressed concern that we will also lack the
filter expected in American culture upon returning home and will blurt out
blunt judgements as we have become accustomed to receiving here.
I started to think back on the last year before I moved to
Cambodia and how my perception of my body image could have changed so drastically
in this transition. Prior to this, my vanity was under my own control. I was
never big into mirrors and didn’t spend too much time in front of them. I would
spend 5-10 minutes getting ready every morning; I would dress myself without a
mirror (maybe a bad choice), put up my hair and add some jewelry. I used clothing
and jewelry to express myself and my individuality to my students, within the
limits of business casual, who were my audience everyday. I would spend the
next 12ish hours focused on my work, my students, my lessons, my co-workers,
food (Canto6), and daily tasks. My own appearance didn’t enter those 12 hours
as I wouldn’t hear comments (aside from the occasional 7th grader
pointing out a zit on your face) about my looks and my mind and body were
completely consumed by my job. Besides, in American culture, friends and
co-workers are expected to compliment rather than insult. This weekend on a
bike ride, I was listening to a TED talk titled “What is beauty?” where a model
was giving her thoughts on the modeling industry’s standard of beauty. She
remarked on how the public is unaware that models are in actuality the most
insecure women on the planet. She said she feels insecure because she has to
think about what she looks like everyday. This comment resonated with my
current situation because I effectively have to put on armor before exiting my
room each day in preparation for what someone might say about me. Their looks
and opinions, whether or not they are founded in truth, are the reality of my
life as a strange foreigner in a superficially homogeneous culture. My
difference draws attention and interest everywhere I go; I’m still trying to
figure out how to accept that.
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| This is my response for the time being |
