I think most people probably ask themselves random questions throughout the day that if posed by an outside person would seem quite strange or if heard by another person would seem quite strange. I have some of both. Some of my recent questions:
1. Is it okay to take moldy vitamins? (Yes)
2. Should I walk around or go through the fence? (Fence)
3. Should I wash my hair or go one more day? (One more day)
4. What would it be like here if I were a man instead of a woman? (Awesome)
When I asked myself the last question, I was walking past one of the thousand barber stands in this city, watching a man get a perfectly manicured mustache, and I thought…”If I were a man, I would grow the most beautiful, luxurious mustache this city has ever seen.” The glory. Mustaches here apparently have different meaning to those in the States. Back home they say, “I’m a bit of a creeper” or “I needed something to catch the food falling off my fork” or “I make fun of my dad’s in our old pictures, but secretly I think it looks awesome, so I grew one”. Here, they proclaim to the world of your unquestionable status as a man and not one to be messed with. It is harder to find a mustache-less man than a street dog with an owner here. I walked past an older gentleman with a perfectly combed, parted, and waxed white mustache the other night and burned with envy.
The glory of a mustache isn’t the only benefit I see to being a man here. Step two, if I were a man, I would grow the second most conspicuous feature to any self-respecting man, a large and protruding stomach. The affection men have here for their stomachs is astonishing. I can’t go a day without seeing a man casually roll up or unbutton his shirt to unveil his glorious gut. They stroke, pat, and scratch their stomachs like an adored pet, and I’m just not sure I could get away with the same behavior. I mean, we all wish we could, but it’s the unique privilege of men here, as far as I can tell, and one they relish.
Thirdly, if I were a man, I would bathe on the streets. I am not saying that anyone would want to see that anymore than I want to see it fifty times a day, but when you have a belly and mustache, the envy of all around you, you must not keep it to yourself. I say, fashion some bathing shorts out of a towel and lather up.