Hujambo!

Funny things happen when you’re white and you walk around Nairobi. Here’s a few things I’ve noticed:

• Every cab driver thinks you want a cab
• Every tour guide thinks you want to go for a safari
• Every begger gets excited when they see you, then they give their best “Jambo! Hello!”
• People selling trinkets get excited when they see you (like, “Yeah! Now that you mention it, I DID want a box of matches!”)
• Shoes shiners want to polish your shoes

Sometimes I tell them funny things, like I’ll tell the cab drivers ndio hizi (like, “yeah, these”) and point to my feet, or nataka kuenda kwa miguu (“I want to go on foot”). It’s harder to be nice to the safari dudes; if I’m annoyed I’ll just tell them mimi si mtalii (“I’m not a tourist”). I know that’s a bit rude so I always feel bad after. I guess you can’t blame them for assuming you’re a tourist. The hilarious thing about the shoe shiners is that I am usually wearing sandals when they ask me… they laugh when I point to my feet and say, “No thanks!”

Realistically, any person who isn’t black probably experiences these things (Japanese, Swedish, etc). There are plenty of non-black Kenyans, but I don’t know any so I’m not sure if they have similar experiences. I guess the locals can tell if you’re a foreigner.

Karibu Kenya (“you’re welcome in Kenya”!)

My name is “Alan,” and if you don’t know my name, please just say, “Hi!” or any of the other greetings you use on your fellow Kenyans. Jina langu si “British” or “mzungu.” I don’t know what your parents told you, but I don’t think white people like being called either of those names. In fact, in America, it’s borderline racist to yell someone’s ethnicity or nationality at them. You don’t see me walking around shouting “Kenyan!” at people.

I know it’s not a huge problem, but I walk two kilometers to the market every day; it’s like a gauntlet. People on the left yelling “mzungu,” on the right saying, “British, how are you?” and mamas instructing their babies to look at me, pointing openly. Sometimes I’ll even pass a group of high school boys and that is pretty intimidating (they’ll say things in groups that they’d never say if they were alone). I used to get annoyed and say things like, Mimi si British (I am not British) or “I am American” until I realized that, even if I was British, that’s no way to greet a person!
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I just realized the other day that I only have eight months left here in Kenya. Not that I’m counting down, but because I arrived in October, 2007 I should be leaving in October, 2009 I guess. I haven’t decided if I will leave early or extend a bit. Since I came back from the evacuation after last year’s post-election violence I have steadily become a full-time lecturer at the college. That’s important to note because we will have a semester beginning in August/September or so, and if I leave in October I will leaving more-or-less in the middle of the semester. Not cool! So we’ll just have to play it by ear… whatever that means, haha.

I’m very used to life in Tala these days. I walk around like a local and it shows. When I walk into any of the cafes I can just make some small talk and then say, “Kama kawaida” (“like usual” in Swahili) to get my tea and chapati. Even my afternoon students know that after class I’ll either be going to eat chai/chapati or Kisumu ndogo. Kisumu ndogo, which means “small Kisumu” in Swahili, is a place in Tala where you can eat delicious fried fish. It comes in small pieces, served with ugali (corn meal staple food) and some kachumbari (kinda like salsa fresca). Tala’s a funny place, a few months ago I noticed a new place called Kisumu kubwa (big Kisumu), which serves whole fish. Kisumu, by the way, is a town in Western Kenya on Lake Victoria, and the people there are known to eat a lot of fish.
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I met a new mzungu a few days ago.  She’s Pat, and she’s a Peace Corps volunteer in Nguluni, a very small town a few kilometers from Tala.  I’ve never been there, but I pass by it in matatus all the time.  Maybe this will give me an excuse to go there.

She’s working at Kenbric Vocational Training Centre. They’ve had Peace Corps volunteers before, well at least one that I know about.  He was around when Mark (the previous VSO volunteer at my placement) was around.  I never met the guy, but Sara and I used to see him when we first got to Tala a little over a year ago.

I run into her every so often in our college’s “Cyber Cafe” or walking to Tala.  We made plans to go eat chapati and drink tea in Tala this coming Saturday morning.

Her blog is located at http://patinkenya.blogspot.com, go check it out!

I’ve often felt all eyes in Tala were focused on me. Yesterday I was riding my bike pretty fast and I hit some loose dirt and ate $#@% pretty hard. So everyone was laughing and pointing at me, but then they ran to see if I was ok.  I am totally fine (a few scratches) but I ripped a really nice shirt and destroyed my only pair of jeans.

I don’t think it takes much to make people in Tala laugh. For instance, when I wear shorts they all laugh because my legs are so hairy.  I went to greet a woman one time and she shrieked when she saw the hair on my arm.  I’m a MONSTER!

I will be more careful from now on, mom! Anyways, maisha iendelee (life goes on)!