I hold trophy for ‘Poor Sense of Direction Babe’
I have decided to educate myself on how to give directions better because I hold trophy for ‘Poor Sense of Direction Babe’.
What you need to know:
- Research shows that while a woman is more likely to use landmarks you know to give directions; a man is likely to give you directions that sounds something like “head east of Moi Avenue after the roundabout”.
It is a truth universally acknowledged that women and men give directions differently. If you did not pay attention in your Geography class and do not remember what North South West is, avoid asking men for directions.
Research shows that while a woman is more likely to use landmarks you know to give directions; a man is likely to give you directions that sounds something like “head east of Moi Avenue after the roundabout”.
Well, apart from giving directions very differently from men, women are accused of not having a good sense of direction. I was willing to discard this as one of those conspiracy theories against women until an incident on Saturday had me reflecting on how badly I fare in life when it comes to giving directions. I hold trophy for ‘Poor Sense of Direction Babe’.
I was at the salon I patronise to get my hair undone, washed and straightened. I have been going to the same salon for over a year so you can imagine the number of trips I have made.
Football match
On Saturday evening while I was making my hair, it started raining heavily. I had hoped that by the time I was ready to leave, the rain would have stopped, but this was not the case. Several things meant I could not wait for the rain to pass before I head home. One was a couple of people watching an ongoing football match and cheering loudly.
I do not do well in such environments. The second reason was I had planned to make an elaborate three-course meal, and any extra time I spent at the salon ate into my dinner prep time. Determined to leave, I got a shower cap and decided to walk through the rain. The salon owner, an older woman who was concerned about my decision to run through the rain, asked me where I live.
Ladies and gentlemen, hard as I tried, I could not answer her question. My explanation was something like “It’s not far from here. You go down until that corner then you turn and go straight…just straight.” I could tell from her blank stare that she had no idea what I was talking about. There were murmurs, some guys even got their focus off football for a minute to ask if I knew where I was going.
Silence
But I am not the only one.
While heading home last week, I overheard a lady give directions to someone on the phone. To be fair to her, she spoke with the coastal Kiswahili accent so I guess that explains why she did not know the name of the bus-stop where we were at.
“When you turn round you will see a building with yellowish words,” she said.
Silence.
“Yes, that is on the same street we saw women selling clothes last evening,” she expounded.
Radio silence. The kind of silence Wole Soyinka describes in Telephone Conversation as silenced transmission of pressurized good breeding. I could tell the lady was getting impatient at having to repeat herself on the phone. I could also imagine the frustration the person on the other end of the phone felt at having to locate the woman considering women sell clothes on just about every street in Nairobi.
Someone next to her told her the name of the stage but she said the person is new in Nairobi and the name of the bus-stop would not help.
I get a panic attack every time I have a guest coming over and they call to say, “The pin is not very clear, please direct me.” I have a history of taking someone who was coming to visit in circles for almost an hour. The complication, besides my usual zero sense of direction was the fact that I hardly walk around my hood and so I am not even familiar with the landmarks.
“If I did not know you Daisy, I would have concluded that you did not want me to come to your house,” she said, when she eventually got to my house and was parking her car.
Well, after the Saturday incident, I have decided to educate myself on how to give directions better. The jury is still out though and…while I accept that I cannot give directions, even to save my life, I think we have women who know their onions in this thing. Again, I stand to be corrected.
Are you a pro at giving directions? Please reach me with some of those tips.
The writer is the Research & Impact Editor, NMG
