Some thoughts on life... and other meanderings of my mind.

Everyday on my commute I walk through my little neighborhood to the main road. There I join the other commuters on their way to work, I hop on a Dala Dala (the public transit) and try to sit as near to the front as possible. I hug my bag and try to not be too much in the way. To date I have yet to take a Dala where I am the only non-African, but it isn’t so bad. I am use to the stares and just try to ignore it as much as possible. After signaling the conductor that I want to get off, I get off pay my 400 shillings and walk the remaining 30 or so minutes along the main road to work. On your average day I will have about 10 or 15 people try to talk to me and un countable stares, the people that talk to me generally just  say a quick “Habari” or “ Jambo!” But this week the common them has been the annoying call of “ Mzungu! Madame Mzungu! Lady Mzungu! Hey you MZUNGU!”… To which I generally just keep walking, head down, no eye contact. *Cue Les Mis song “Look Down”* Saying Mzungu to us may seem very rude as it literally means “White person” or more historically means “One who walks in circles, or is dizzy.” Because when the white settlers came here they were all over the place and kept walking in circles and getting lost. So, now today white people are called Mzungu. To the local people here they don’t seem to think it to be terribly rude, or impolite. Though at first I was fairly certain it was rather rude… and I still wonder… But Se La Vi. The annoying thing for me is how it is said; it can be genuinely kind, friendly, and in the case of a little kid very excited (There is nothing cuter than a 3 year old trying to pronounce M-zun-gu with a giant smile on their face.) But sometimes it sounds derogatory, rude, and generally makes one feel very uncomfortable. I can’t help but think “Yes, yes I know I am white, thank you for pointing it out… I might have forgotten… OH WAIT, I CAN’T. YOU ALL STARE AT ME!” The worst is when it is younger men… or creepy old men… “Mzungu pendeza!”… I think, “White girl is pretty? Really that is all you got? How often does that actually work for you?” … Maybe I should try that next time I find some white guy attractive… “ Hey, hey you man. Man with less melanin in your skin than people with dark skin. Hey, you’re attractive…” Yeah, because that is gonna work. HA! Well, I guess its best I keep my sense of humor to myself. All that said it has occurred to me just how much I didn’t know about how it feels to be a minority. Growing up as a middleclass white girl really sheltered me from the perspective I have now. It also really makes me empathize with those who are not a majority. Even though I dislike all this attention, I am trying my best to embrace it and learn from it. Those of us in the majority never really think of the whole minority thing. But now, I know how it feels to have people assume things about me, they assume I am rich, I am American, I will pay way more for anything in the market, I will probably give them money, I am only here to buy things and go on Safari, and I don’t understand or know any Swahili or cultural customs. It is frustrating, but very eye opening. And I have a whole other level of respect now for those to deal with that on a daily basis.  It is a different world here, and I am not just speaking form the fact that it is a developing country.  Don’t get me wrong, I am loving my experiences here and my personal growth.  But I am in a place so different it is impossible to describe how different it is. I have found that my inner strength is far greater than I would have imagined possible, for example while in Zanzibar when I was on day 10 or so of being very sick I was in the bathroom, trying desperately to keep down the food that I had just eaten and between bouts of throwing up I was looking up at the moldy mildew covered walls and listening to the call to prayer and honestly the only thing that came into my head was how beautiful I thought that sound was. I am not Muslim nor do I know any Arabic but a greeting or two, but I found that I could truly appreciate the significance of the words being sung. They were words that had been sung for thousands of years… And I had the opportunity to experience it firsthand… Pretty amazing… And all of this wonderful revelation was had while doubled over a half broken European toilet in 100 degree weather with 90% humidy on day 10 of being violently ill… I figured out rather early on that I was going to feel sick for most of my time there and that regardless of how horrible I felt I was going to enjoy my experiences and learn. Which is much easier said than done.

I don’t think before this trip I would have been able to appreciate such things. But thank goodness the anti-biotics seem to be working and my month or so of feeling horrible appears to be over. I highly suggest that if anyone comes to Africa that you come prepared with  anti-diarrhea, anti-gas, anti-acid, laxative, and the knowledge that YOU WILL USE ALL OF THESE at some point. Just face it, it will happen. If I have gained anything from this trip (and I have gained a lot thus far and I am just at the halfway point) It is a giant dose of perspective, humility and appreciation. 

On a lighter note I have also discovered that Snickers candy bars seem to be the best cure for homesickness… And really good coffee… As I am typing this I am drinking probably the best coffee I have ever had grown right here on the farm where I work.  Life is good. J