They are so beautiful here,

Sara says as she stares at a woman walking passed us at the shopping centre. The woman is wearing tight jeans over her round bum, a flowery top of shiny silky fabric. Hair artistically made with braids and extensions, her face smooth and just barely made-up, long earrings hanging to her shoulders, high heels.

Yes, she is really beautful I agree.

No mum, everyone is beautiful here, havent you noticed?

Yes, I have indeed noticed. Since childhood I have noticed this beauty:

Black skin, curvy soft bodies, braided hair, slow and flowy movements. Open faces, smiling, song in their voices.  

 

 

 

But what Sara is talking about is their sence of beautification

How they make their hair, the clothes they wear and how sensual they make it all appear. Colorful patterend clothes. Long and painted nails, shiny shoes with heels. Acessories in excess. The matatus outside our house are overcrowded, its dusty and so hot, and still these beautiful creations climb gracefully in and out of them, balancing along bumby roadsides, walking for hours. No tarmac pavements or soft carpets, but still wearing heals.

 

Me, jumping ut of the Landcruiser, without a hint of elegance, low sandals, sunglasses pushed up my hair only briefly combed. Wearing loosefitted jeans and a comfortable shirt. Always comfortable: we like to be comfortable. What happened to the «pain for beauty» aspect? Its definitely at work here I realise as I watch all these beautiful, elegant, sexy women of all ages- and more noticingly: all shapes.

Tight jeans in the heat. Fabrics that dont ventilate. Shoes in cheap material. Hair so tightly braided. It CANNOT be comfortable. Definitely pain for beauty here, beauty before comfortable.

A woman probably over 100 kgs parks her small car next to me, white top, huge breasts, hair dyed and braided in an enormous creation on top of her head, jewellery of beads, gold and silver filling her chest, ears and arms and again those very tight jeans over bulging thighs. It strikes me that in Norway people would probably first see (and judge) her weight and not even notice her beautful face. Here she’s a Diva. Show what you’ve got baby.

The boys want a haircut; their curls have gone out of control so we go to Grace Beauty Saloon. I sit down with the girls to wait, immediately approached by one of the beautificators in the shop: do i want a manicure? Perhaps a pedicure too? We’re waiting anyway so why not. Scrubbing feet, massaging fingers, polishing nails- even Sara gets a layer. What about my eyebrows? No, thanks. Really? They dont look good, too bushy, you could be so beautiful she says.

No thanks, I like it natural I say. She replies: its natural to be beautiful!

As I walk out of the shop and look down on my rednailed feet (in my comfortable slippers) I try to walk a bit more flowingly. I didnt do my eyebrows but I promise myself to put on a dress tomorrow no matter what- and perhaps even iron it first.