power cut in the office. to waste time while i wait for my comupter to return to functionability i take a jaunt down to the corner to buy some airtime( cell phone credit) and a banana. a flock of green-uniformed school kids whisper 'mzungu' between giggles and line up for high-fives. that will never get old
interesting how that word can evoke so many different responses. for example: one should never pay the mzungu price for anything and always try to haggle down. stinking young men pass me on the road to work, eyeing me like a piece of butchered goat and mutter "mzungu" and being a mzungu means merely walking past the Peoples Trading Center (grocery store) downtown Blantyre elicits a following of beggars and vendors, who perk up at my glowing whiteness, dodge traffic and passersby- some more tenacious than others- to evoke my pity or show me their wares, calling 'mzungu' 'mzungu'!!!!
in these situations i hate being white because it draws such strange, unwanted attention. attention which takes me for suprise since i usually forget that im not african. but its okay if its coming from the kids.
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