By: Staff Contributor.
As a parent, few situations can be as awkward as finding yourself at a children's birthday party, especially when you barely know the hosts. You might recognize them as neighbors from your condominium, but beyond that, they are strangers.
Suddenly, the air is filled with the sounds of laughter and excitement as kids swarm around, and your own little ones are eager to join the fun. However, you can't simply let them venture off on their own; their age makes them too vulnerable, and the thought of them playing unsupervised on the fourth floor, potentially leaning over the balcony while adults are preoccupied, sends a shiver down your spine.
The reality of the world today adds another layer of concern, as the safety of young children is paramount, with dangers like predators lurking in the shadows. Being present at such gatherings can feel overwhelming, as the chaos of energetic kids leaves little room for you to catch your breath amidst the whirlwind of activity.
Over the weekend, I found myself unexpectedly attending a birthday celebration for neighbors I barely knew. The cake-cutting ceremony dragged on longer than I anticipated, leaving me and my children waiting restlessly. As the minutes ticked by, the kids grew increasingly impatient, their eyes darting toward the sweets that seemed just out of reach. My own stomach began to grumble, and the kind mother of the birthday boy offered me lunch, insisting I partake. I fibbed, claiming I had already eaten, but my lie was quickly uncovered by another guest. She sweetly urged me to promise I would return for a meal, and I nodded, feigning intent while feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over me.
Despite the genuine warmth of the invitation, my pride held me back from accepting the food. In Ethiopian culture, there's a saying that captures this sentiment perfectly: "atgderder gondre neh inde," which reflects the reluctance to accept food out of shame or pride. This phrase highlights the intricate dance of social expectations that often leaves individuals caught between genuine hospitality and personal pride. At the core of megderder is a profound anxiety about being judged.
In Ethiopia, many individuals grapple with the weight of others' perceptions, leading them to prioritize their image over their basic needs. At the core of 'megderder' is a profound anxiety about being judged. Many individuals grapple with the weight of others' perceptions, leading them to prioritize their image over their basic needs. The act of declining food, even in moments of hunger, serves as a means to project strength and independence, steering clear of any semblance of neediness. This apprehension about judgment is deeply intertwined with cultural norms and social structures.
In a society that places immense importance on hospitality and generosity, acknowledging one's hunger can evoke feelings of inadequacy and shame. One significant element that plays a role in megderder is the overwhelming power of the ego. This psychological construct, which thrives on self-preservation and the need for validation, can drive individuals to make decisions that defy logic or even harm their well-being. In the context of megderder, the ego may persuade someone that accepting food equates to weakness or a lack of control. Such misguided pride can overshadow the body's fundamental requirements, resulting in needless distress.
I found myself regretting not indulging in the kitfo when I returned home only to discover that lunch was still not prepared. I had the opportunity to enjoy it, yet I turned it down, and now I must bear the consequences of that choice.