People-watching
Well, hello… here I am finally getting around to posting my first blog/ramble… it was written during a sleepless flight back from the symposium, ages ago! Finally, I thought I’d better go ahead and get it out of the way, before proceeding with some other less heavy and boring entries… so here goes!
I was people-watching in Dubai airport on my way back from the symposium, utterly fascinated by the hundreds of nationalities, religions and cultures walking past me. More than in any other airport I’ve ever been through, Dubai assembles an astonishing mix of peoples from all over the world, blending Southeast Asia and India with the Middle East and Africa, with America, Australia and Europe. But the most striking and fascinating thing to watch were the women; their eyes, their clothes, their children, a glimpse into their way of life. The golden sparkle of bangles and necklaces, fine intricate embroideries, the shimmer of soft Indian saris, the vivid reds, blues and yellows of African clothes, the solid white or black Muslim veils, the amazingly complex henna patterns on hands and feet, the jeans and gore-tex of the backpackers…! Women pacing the airplane aisles in the middle of the night comforting wailing babies (keeping us all awake…), distributing food out of large carrier bags, chasing rowdy children in the departure lounge, gathering luggage, shopping, arguing, chatting, sleeping. It got me thinking about the women I met during my sea turtle sampling work in West Africa, how knowing them has affected me, changed my perceptions and pre-conceptions, how it has influenced my thoughts on sea turtle conservation. In Africa women do most of the physical work. They walk for miles with bundles of firewood, often carrying children strapped to their backs, they scrub laundry in the rivers, they cook, they tend the farmed patches in the forest, they sell products along the roads. My friend Angela lives on a little island 15 sq km in the middle of a green turtle feeding ground. She’s younger than me but looks years older. She runs a small guesthouse, cooks, cleans, farms, raises four children, has not left the island in years. Carlota is one of two wives of a taxi driver and shop owner. She alternates with the other wife to live a year in the city looking after the numerous children of both, and a year alone, tending the shop in a remote border post, near green turtle developmental habitat. In West Africa men fish, poach and slaughter turtles. But it is the women who cook turtle meat, it is they who take captured turtles from the beaches or ports to market, it is women tending the market-stalls selling meat and eggs, it is they making turtle products such as leatherback oil, it is women who shop for meals based on turtles. The toughness of their habits and attitudes can be a bit intimidating in a society where women have no real political power, but enormous social influence… Yet, do Angela, Carlota and myself really come from different planets? Are our concerns and priorities really that different? In our day-to-day life, yes, we’re light years apart. But, I’d like to think that for the long-term stuff, the issues that really matter, we’re not so different, that barriers were crossed and lasting bonds of friendship and respect established. Isn’t that what really counts in the end? Isn’t that what’s going to shift mountains? I don’t know if I have touched as many women as have touched me. I do know that for a few, sea turtles remind them of a nutcase who was running around collecting samples and saying turtles should be protected. And I am certain that much of the battle to save sea turtles in the region would be won if only these women were on our side. I think that, despite the enormous variety of backgrounds, the common theme of womanhood plays a major role in conservation and in our potential to improve the future. Women’s caring and nurturing instinct, the doggedness and stamina, the sacrifices, and not, least of all, women’s role in shaping the minds of their children, instilling morals, guiding steps, even that subtle (or not) manipulation of men which women sometimes resort to… a sea turtles’ goldmine!