Applying CoG Theory: How Do They Do That?

In grammar school we used to play a game called eraser tag. It took place in the classroom. One pupil would write another’s name on the blackboard- do they still use them? - then balance a chalk eraser on their head and dart to a far corner of the room. The pupil who saw their name on the board would zip forward, erase their name, place the eraser on their head, and attempt to tag their antagonist. I can still remember the name of one of those flat-headed pupils, or should I say skilled and talented pupils. Where’s he going with all this, you may be wondering.

I’ve extolled the virtues of Zambian women in this space numerous times before. One thing they do that never ceases to amaze me is carry everything but the kitchen sink on their heads. Actually, I shouldn’t rule out those sinks. On my morning run yesterday I saw a fiftyish woman walking along the road carrying a TABLE on her head! It was about four feet long and half as wide, with legs about a foot and a half high. Where was my camera then? I thought it would have been slightly more interesting if the table’s legs were facing down. Then I could tell you I saw a six-legged table walking down the street!

I would be quite satisfied with the ability to carry anything on my head, including hair! Zambian women though, you name it; they carry it. Very resourceful, don’t you think? Even more astonishing is that, as often as not, they’re carrying a baby in a chitenge on their back, and something in one or both hands. What’s more, I’ve never seen them drop anything. I saw one woman carrying a pot on her head that was so askew I was sure it would end up on the ground. No chance!

Zambian women who occupy the ranks of the middle class and above generally don’t carry assorted stuff on their heads. That may be because they've never had to do that. It may also be because they don’t have to or don’t want to do that anymore. I’d guess that most of the women seen carrying everything under the sun on their heads have not completed a high school education. I doubt they could explain the physical concept of center of gravity (CoG). Nevertheless, they know, intuitively it seems, that successfully balancing an object on one’s head does not necessarily mean placing its physical center over theirs.

It’s fun to watch the process these women go through to get themselves under the stuff they carry. First they place a pie-shaped cloth or chitenge on their head to cushion the load. They then stoop and effortlessly pick up, say, a sack of sweet potatoes weighing maybe fifty or more pounds, adjust it on their head like someone trying on a hat, and take off. And unlike most of us who were no good at eraser tag, they can turn their head smoothly to give themselves a full range of vision. I suppose this shows the value of practical experience.

Walking long distances to fetch firewood and water makes one rather resourceful. How many of us would even consider attempting to carry something on our head to save ourselves a trip? Last summer, in Chicago, about three blocks from our president's home, I and a gaggle of others helped a student move her belongings from one apartment to another one a block away. None of us used our heads for anything but blabbering! Can you imagine someone moving into or out of their house or apartment with their arms full and anything other than a hat on their head?! I never tire of watching these women do what we have to go to the circus to see. Last October after taking a seat subsequent to preaching at an outdoor retreat, a small six-year-old or so girl caught my eye. She was trying valiantly to balance a two-liter plastic soda bottle, containing water, on her head. Necessity begins at a young age here.

A week ago, during one of my two jaunts to Lusaka (about 230 miles from Kitwe), I asked a woman carrying a basin full of oranges on her head if I could take a snap of her. She was thrilled, and obliged. As she was walking away, I called her so she could see me feebly attempting to balance my daypack on my head while slowly and unsteadily walking toward her. She laughed so hard and so long she must have been precariously close to incontinence. By the way, men here also carry things on their heads, only it’s rare to see one who could say, “Look, no hands!”