My two sides

Allow me to complain, I’ll feel much better. Sometimes I get pissed off about the way I’m treated here. Because I’m white I get so much attention. For instance, I hear “How are you?” about a million times a day. Many people feel that order to sound more like a mzungu, this question must be asked through the nose, which makes it twice as irritating. Speaking of mzungu, if I am not being asked how I am, then surely someone is shouting “mzungu mzungu!” at me instead. Usually it’s little kids, and there are about a trillion of them in this country. There seems to be a Kenyan primary school every hundred yards and all it takes is for one child on a school yard to see me off in the distance and shout “mzungu!” before everyone comes running to the fence to shout and gawk. Oftentimes I find myself on my bike right before or after school, which means that I have to ride by miles and miles of children walking down the road, all wearing matching school uniforms. It’s pretty much guaranteed I will be asked how I am about a hundred times as I ride past and kids will point out that, yes indeed, I am still a mzungu. If I respond to the “how are you” question with only answer children understand (I am fine), then one might think that would be the end of it, right? Wrong. Responding results in one of two things…he or she will just ask “how are you?” again as if I didn’t just say I was fine, or all the other kids that would have left me alone start asking “how are you?” as well. Sometimes I just ignore the question and go on my way.

Of course, with kids the whole “how are you” thing really doesn’t bother me that much; being called “mzungu” from a five-year-old isn’t so bad. It’s not that difficult to tune out, and they are just kids after all. What annoys me is when teens and adults yell “mzungu” or ask “how are you” through their nose. They know it is rude and they do it anyway because they think it is funny. Groups of Boda Boda drivers or matatu touts are the worst, acting like idiots because they want to show off to their buddies.

Then there’s the perception that white people have tons of money. I’ll admit that, compared to the average Kenyan, this is generally true. This image isn’t helped by the fact that wazungu drive around in shiny new Land Cruisers and tourists think nothing of handing a hundred shillings to someone on the street. I really don’t think this handout mentality, common in both tourists and by aid organizations, has been very beneficial. On my bike ride around Mt. Elgon with another PCV I had someone ask for one of our bikes, as if one of us would just hand it over and walk the rest of the way.

Concerning money, I can’t help everyone that asks, especially in my village. If I give one person some loose change then I will be hassled for money by half the village next time I go out. I try to remember this but having people yell “give me money!” or making a beeline in my direction to ask for a soda or 10 shillings gets on my nerves. Sometimes I’m not especially nice to people who harass me for money, and I inevitably feel bad later about getting angry with people who in all likelihood are living hand-to-mouth and have nothing. At least in my village and around places where people know me they have stopped asking.

Something to point out: Kenyan Mamas are the nicest people on the planet. I am almost never bothered by them at all. They smile and greet me and it seems genuinely sincere. In fact, if you look at most of the problems here: corruption, rape, drunkenness, laziness, discrimination, etc. it is almost never Mamas that are causing the problems. I think women hold Africa together (probably the rest of the world too) and putting more women into politics would go along way towards fixing the world’s problems.

I have had something really offensive happen several times. There are some Dutch volunteers, two girls, who I was friends with in Kitui. When walking by a group of guys one of them came up and said “give me one”, as if because I am with two women I have a spare that I can just hand out to anyone I please. I ignored the demand and we went on our way. I was with two female volunteers in my village the other day and I had the same thing happen, except he was persistent. This time I explained to the guy that he could not handle mzungu women because they are used to being treated with respect and won’t be pushed around. I also pointed out that in my culture women are not property to be given away. I’m not sure he followed me but he peddled off on his bike and left us alone. What I’m wondering is how a Kenyan would behave if another guy came up to him while he was walking with two women and said “give me one”. I would imagine the guy asking the question would get punched in the face, which seems fair to me. Of course, this would never happen with another Kenyan; since I’m a mzungu the rules don’t apply.

The rules do apply when I’m doing something wrong though. For instance, if I’m in Nairobi and fifty Kenyans are crossing the street when the light is red, and I do it too, someone will be sure to stop me and point out that I shouldn’t cross. Or if I ride my bike down the main road instead of the congested Boda Boda road in town, which is done by Kenyans all the time, people won’t hesitate to shout at me and point out I’m on the wrong road.

In my village there’s a few of the Boda Boda guys who really get on my nerves. I came back from the village some time back with a pineapple, and as I was going through town I saw one of the orphan kids walking by in tattered clothes and no shoes. I decided to give him my pineapple, and for the at least the next month the Boda Boda drivers yelled “give me matunda” (Swahili for fruit) every time I passed by, which was at least twice a day.

About a month ago my puppies were missing, and I found out they followed some visitors off my compound and into the village. I spent a good hour looking for them and began asking people “Umeona mbwa ndogo?” (Have you seen puppies?) Finally I asked somebody who had seen them and we were able to track them down and I carried them back to my house. Now every time I go past the Boda Bodas a few of the guys shout “Mbwa ndogo!” like it’s the funniest thing ever. It really pisses me off but the worst thing you can do is react to it, so I try to let it slide.

So I was in a sour mood today and I went for a run. A Boda Boda guy passed by and shouted “mbwa ndogo!”, to which I responded under my breath with some Good ‘Ol American curse words, then shortly after a group of kids started running after me shouting “mzungu!”. There is always somebody who wants to run with me and as soon as I outran the kids some guy in his late teens decided to run right beside me, shouting something I couldn’t understand in the local tribal language. As I continued to ignore him he laughed at me and I used a few curse words on him as well. I made it back to my house in a worse mood then when I started to run, and realized that I need to change my attitude. I have good days and bad days, and I notice that my good days are when I don’t take things personally or too seriously and maintain a sense of humor. I decided to rest for a few minutes and then do the same run again with a different attitude.

I ran again (albeit at a much slower pace) with a forced smile on my face. When people asked “how are you” I would respond “fine” and wave. I passed a group of boda drivers that I could tell were about to start shouting something at me and before they had a chance I said hello to them in Swahili and kept running. I had some kids start running next to me, and when they tired out I taunted them in Swahili, telling them they were weak and tired and to keep going. They tried and couldn’t keep up any longer, and I heard them laughing behind me like I had made their day. Before I knew it I was in a genuinely good mood.

I wish I could keep that positive attitude all the time but I let myself get worked up when I shouldn’t. Part of the problem is that the longer I am here the more I expect to be treated like a Kenyan. Even though I am definitely treated differently in my village and Kakamega town than I first got here, I am still a mzungu and thus an outsider to most people. I need to realize that it will be that way until I leave and make the best of it, and appreciate the rare Kenyan friends that treat me as an equal.