Sunday, 29 January 2017

You fatty.

I have traveled quite a bit in Asia and it never fails to leave me utterly speechless when a complete stranger comes up to me and says, "You very fat," accompanied by a giggle and a big grin, as if they've just said something really complimentary.

This morning, I was limping down the beach and shouted out "sawade" (hello) to one of the female gardeners I see every morning. She came straight up to me, put down her rake, looked me in the eye, squeezed my arms and mimed a very large fish, holding her hands either side of my hips. "You big fat lady," she said with a toothy smile. She then grabbed my hips and squeezed them with affection. I was dumbstruck, which doesn't happen very often, and simply smiled and shrugged. I mean, what do you say to that?

I'm under no illusion that I'm overweight. I see it in the mirror every day and wonder how I can get back to the weight I was. I can barely limp up a flight of stairs right now because my knees still don't work properly, and it's doubly hard to exercise when I have to continually move around between several houses on a weekly basis, starting work early and finishing late, with no access to a swimming pool (my least painful physio) and no routine to speak of. It's just hard. Not impossible but tricky. I eat very healthily,  I don't drink much alcohol anymore (cries of horror from my friends with that comment!), I don't snack and I drink 2 litres of water a day. My body, funnily enough is probably the healthiest it's ever been. I feel fabulous in myself, I just can't seem to shift the weight.

I had my thryoid gland removed when I was 21, and was told by my surgeon that my body would never be the same again. I would struggle with weight and tiredness and I would feel the cold, because the thyroid gland's only job, but incredibly important job, is to figure out how much hormone to produce for your organs to work properly. Imagine it as a car engine, which sets the pace for your body to function. Without a thyroid, without a metabolism, your body shuts down, so I take 3 pills every day to fool my brain into thinking everything works just fine. What I can't do is raise my own metabolism through exercise, so the process is just that much more complicated. Anyway, I never lose hope, and once I have my new home, I can find my groove again, my routine, and all will be good.

But I digress. I worked in Singapore a few years ago and clearly remember a group of young teenage girls pointing at me and laughing behind their hands. We then had to get in the lift together and I basically worked out that they were laughing at how big I was, compared to them. I mean I do stand out in Asia being nearly 5' 10" but to be large as well, was utterly freakish to them.

In Vietnam, I had a guide that took me on his moped for a few days, driving through small remote villages where they'd only ever seen white people on tv. The whole village would emerge to see this strange pale-eyed, white-haired, fat person, clinging on the back of this tiny bike, boobs and bottom jiggling with abandon. I would have laughed seeing me, so I can see how amusing it would have been for them.

But when I was in India, over 15 years ago, being overweight was still seen as a status symbol. At that point I was probably a size 14 so not obese in any shape or form but to them I was huge. Their thinking was that if you are fat, you must eat lots. If you eat lots, then you must be rich, and if you are rich then you must be important or born of a high caste. Thank god this attitude has changed but when I was there, they saw me and made the assumption I was a rich important English lady. Indian tourists would ask to take my photo, as I was trying to take photos of palaces and shrines, so somewhere in India I am in the family photo albums of at least 30 people. Very odd.

In Cuba also, a country that still has communism and ration books, you don't see many overweight people. I was walking down the street with my guide's arm around my waist (Cubans are very tactile), when a man came up to us and whispered in his ear. They both laughed uproariously. I asked what he'd said and Roger, my guide, translated it. "Keep hold of that one, if she can afford to eat that much, maybe she can pay for you to get out of Cuba". Hilarious.

In Sri Lanka, I was in an Ayurvedic Spa for several weeks, and as part of the treatment process, a doctor spent the whole first day checking me over, and I mean checking every nook and cranny, in order to work out my treatment plan. I was handed a 4 page document, which was fascinating, but she then covered the papers with her hand and said, "Basically, you fatty, Miss Juliet". I was also told by the two sisters who massaged me every day, that massaging me was like making bread. Haha. Thanks.

I have always had comments about my size wherever I choose to visit, but they are never said in a mean way. If English had been their first language then I would expect a more subtle choice of description; Plump, chubby, chunky, well-rounded, curvy, big, even. A bit of tact goes a long way but as 'fat' is probably the only word they have been taught, then 'fat' it is. It's actually quite refreshing to be slapped in the face now and again by a three letter word.

I get judged around the world and there is no point trying to explain why's or wherefore's. I just smile graciously and hope they like me anyway. "That fat lady. She nice".

No comments: