Big Calves

One time I went for a pedicure (in the US) and the lady said "you have big calves." What do you say to that? At one point in my life, I might have resisted the urge to cry. She just called me fat! At the time however, I was in a better place mentally and thought, well, it's true, I do. So I just said thanks. She later pointed at the calluses on my foot and said, "you want me to get rid of that, right?" As she kept pointing out my "flaws" I felt totally judged. I had just come from Sudan and those calluses came from hard work! Fortunately, my time in Sudan helped me get used to the bluntness of other cultures.

One guy in Sudan, said "Casey (he couldn't say Stacie), I went to Wau (a city three hours away, to get supplies) and saw a dress... even for you" and gestured with wide arms. I just laughed and said, thank you. He didn't mean to insult me. He was just saying he saw a big size dress! I was big and that was that. In Africa, being heavy means you are doing well and are healthy. If they say you are fat, they are just stating a fact and not judging. In fact, the other day at the store, George and I were congratulated because Eli is fat (Her words not mine. I prefer to say chubby!). The employee was truly complimenting him and us. Several times here and in Kenya, I have been complimented on my legs. I have been told I have nice legs. That is SO not what I am used to hearing in the US. Here, most people's legs are straight and shapeless so when someone goes by with big calves, they are appreciated and desired. It still cracks me up what is admired here vs in the US. For example, a gap between the top two teeth. Here it is a very attractive feature. In the US, we fix it. Funny.

While being fat is usually admired here, I still am not comfortable when I am heavier. I just don't feel as good. Over the last few months, I have put on some weight and began exercising daily a couple weeks ago. I walk and jog on the street in front of our house in the evening while George and Eli cheer me on. And also while people laugh at me. I never see anyone here exercising, but I do I see people pointing and laughing, wondering what the big mzungu (white person) is doing. I just block them out and keep jogging with the strength of my giant calves.

To add to my fitness routine, George had these made.



They are made from old milk and paint containers. The smaller one is mine and the bigger one is George's. The watchman who roams our neighborhood made them for us. So now I will big calves and guns (biceps)!