A Man's Woman In The Jungle Still Trying To Adapt Again To This World

In 1989 I joined the Peace Corp and went abroad to a poor third world country. My mission was to empower women. I got on the wrong side of the village chief and he put me in the kitchen. I had to sleep at the foot of his bed on a straw mat. He had sex with me when the mood struck. Without access to birth control or the outside world I gave a jungle birth to a son. I screamed and yelled, I couldn't be stoic like the local women who gave birth in silence so they wouldn't annoy the men in the village. There is no other source of nutrition, you breast feed babies into to their second and third year, with another baby inside of you. I didn't leave, even when I could have. I was his woman, and I was pregnant with his children. I was very healthy, but many women suffered from malnutrition. What I could do in the kitchen was feed the women better.

I went home after five years with three children. My jungle husband was injured and he died from the infection.

Its more than thirty years later, my children are half breed mixed race people. They are intelligent which is a direct result of continuing breast feeding them, picture a baby in the belly and two little boys on each breast. That was me, my breasts were their nutrition, protections, not to mention that mother son bonding. I'm a 100 percent supporter of breast feeding. If you gave birth to that child you keep your breasts full of milk for them.

I married later in life to an Architect and slept in the bed beside him. It takes a lot of prodding and suggestion for him to have sex with me. I was used to my husband, and his other wives, having sex when it pleased him. I know full well that my body is designed for his carnal pleasure, but my later in life husband never has understood that. A woman wants her husband to have her. To enjoy her. To desire her.

Ours is just a different culture, but not a better one.