Tree Climbing

I was reading Jadekitten's post where part of it described the scars she got from her days as a tomboy, and that brought back a painful, albeit funny, memory from my childhood that I had long relegated to the recesses of my subconscious.

I was one of those kids whose parents flew to stato when I was a kid, therefore my bro and I ended up being nomads, moving from one family member to another (don't do this to your children people!!) Technically, my bro and I were raised by my grandma, but she was always sick and hospitalized, making it necessary for miscellaneous aunts and uncles to take us in. I think I've always had that rebellious, non-comforming bone in me, and it was no different when I was a kid.

If you were raised in shags, then you know all the bullshit that went along with gender roles. All the "girls are not supposed to wear pants" and "girls should always sit properly so you don't show men your underwear and seduce them" and "girls are supposed to do this and that". Well, I wasn't having any of it, and I often followed my bro and the "shamba boy" to take the cattle grazing, climb trees to get "maperas" and all that kind of stuff that would send my grandma screaming her head off.

This particular morning, I had done the usual chores around the house; washed dishes, swept the house (where were all the child labor laws? Seriously, I was six years old). While my grandma sat on the mat talking to the neighborhood women, I sneaked out and went to the shamba as usual. There was one particular tree I had been trying to climb all week but I didn't seem to get too far and I was getting tired of my bro laughing at me for being a "girl". I was determined to show him that I was no punk and if he could climb the damn tree, so could I.

So there I was, making good progress. My hands were holding onto a branch as I tried to lift my weight off the ground. One branch, two branches, up and up I went. Then...Shit! I was halfway up the tree when my hand slipped and I started my free fall. Lucky for me, there was a branch in my way that stopped me dead, almost literally. My heart was pounding wildly and the adrenaline rush almost masked the pain that was shooting up my spine, coming from my vagina. Great, just great. My bro started laughing, and like a defeated dog, I carefully got down and limped all the way back to the house.

Something was definitely wrong "down there" and the pain got worse and worse. I knew for a fact that I was in trouble, especially if my grandma found out I was climbing trees. A million different excuses ran through my mind, but none of them seemed good enough, even in my juvenile mind. So I slowly sneaked into the house and went to bed, knowing very well that my grandma would have a heart attack at my blatant display of laziness (a girl's not supposed to sleep during the day when there's work to be done, you know).

Eventually, there was no running from it cuz for one, I couldn't walk properly to save my life. My grandma ended up examining my vagina, and deciding that my injuries were serious enough, took me to her elder sister who practiced herbal medicine. The herbs I had to stick up that hole for a few weeks were enough to repel me from herbs for life. And my grandma made sure I put the herbs where they were supposed to go, going so far as to supervise my pee sessions. I guess there is no privacy where children are concerned.

Jade, thanks for that memory. I smiled all day, and for sure I'm calling my grandma this weekend to remind her how "evil" she used to be...LOL.