Supervision is a tricky thing. It's like trying to be a spy that's noticed, while simultaneously attempting to be discreet. You're supposed to patrol the campus, ensuring there's enough room for light between guys and girls – to adhere to the "hands-off" policy – yet not intrude on their private conversations.
I'm not a very skilled snoopervisor.
Yesterday, though, I was about to record my first social. As I was making my rounds in front of the boys' dorm, across the campus I saw two handholders. TROUBLE. I altered my steps to head their way, faintly recognizing one individual as one of the senior guys, but still unable to recognize the other. I continued walking, planning and dreading what I was about to say. A few steps later, I stopped in my tracks. Individual #2 was a junior. A junior guy. Yep. I turned on my heel as nonchalantly as possible and suddenly became enthralled with the trees in front of me.
Kenyan males often hold hands with their other male friends, interlocking their fingers as they stroll down the sidewalk. Yet another thing to get used to...
It makes supervision interesting, however. I peer into a throng of students, trying to determine who's sitting on whose lap, whose arm is around whose shoulder, and who's holding whose hand. Girl-girl, guy-guy, guy-guy...check. I go on my merry way.