L'homme blanc

Dieu me donne un homme blanc. This is my favorite phrase that I've heard recently. God has given me a white man. I was talking to one of my co-workers about buying a radio. I said that he could probably get it for cheaper than I did, pointing to my white skin (I'm white so I have to pay more sometimes). He said that this is what store owners think when I walk into their shops. God has given me a white man.

                              

Being a white man in the Congo defiantly gives the feeling of privilege. People of all ages get excited when they see me. There's a little girl on my walk home who points and shouts Muzungu every time she sees me. I'm always amazed by the tone of her voice. She's just so excited about my whiteness. A couple weeks ago, I was sitting in my living room when a young woman walked in. Startled by my presence she said to my host mom, "there's a Muzungu in here" with the same energy as the little girl. She talked to my host brothers about me, but did not address me. Finally she worked up the nerve to address me directly. "Are you married? Do you want to marry my sister?"   

People often get excited when I tell them I'm from America. Some tell me they want to go to America very badly. Their eyes light up when they talk about it, like it's a dream world. Others who have been there before seem to have a better understanding. It’s a nice place, but not a dream world. Americans are still humans.

People imagine all sorts of things about America. A man that I work with, a pastor maybe in his 50’s, recently asked me, “Jacob, people are really rich in America right. Is there a limit on how many kids you can have?” Congolese like to have lots of kids. The aforementioned pastor has 9. I guess he thought, Americans are rich so they can have as many kids as they want. It never occurred to him that Americans wouldn't want to have 9 kids. I felt similar another day, when a close friend asked me if I could help him sell gold to someone in the US. It was to me such a ridiculous question, but they were very serious. I laughed and responded, "probably not." They asked, "but definitely though, are you sure?" I guess they thought I might be able to get them a good price. 

Of course it's natural for people to imagine things they don't understand, and for those images to be sometimes completely wrong. I imagined many things about Africa before I arrived here 4 months ago. Some of those things were right, but a lot was wrong as well. I recently spoke with a young Rwandan who has been to the US before. He told me that most Americans know very little about Africa, asking him questions like “do you speak African?” In a world so big, ignorance seems to be the natural human state.

On another note, I want to add an interesting update about the conversations with my french teacher, and the notion that Congolese president Joseph Kabila is a Tutsi. I mentioned to my teacher that I was confused, because Congolese tent to fixate on this Tutsi thing instead of focusing on the failures of Kabila as a president. My thinking is that his ethnicity does not matter. His actions are the important thing to me. My teacher responded that the reason Congolese call him a Tutsi is because their lives have not gotten better. He said that people didn't say these things about Kabila in previous years when he was more popular. It was interesting for me to realize that were both really on the same page, but just using different language.

So anyway, the past few weeks have been routine but good. I’ll be moving into a new apartment soon, which I’m looking forward too. We’re still having some funding problems at my work, so not much has been going on there, but I think we’re getting close to having some funding and starting some projects soon. I’m still taking French lessons and my understanding is slowly but consistently improving. I’m also picking up a bit of Swahili from my host family, the guards outside our house, and other random people. So that’s all good. Here are some random pictures from the past few weeks.               

My parents take their goats out to eat the grass on the side of the road.

From the side of the road to the dinner table. Goat intestines are not my favorite, but someones gotta eat em.

Tiny fried fish are great. They're nice and crunchy. You just eat the whole thing.

My host dad is doing some construction in our backyard.

I finally got my establishment visa. Not like a resident but probably as close as I'll get.

Nyawera, a local market, busy on a Friday night.

That’s all for now. If anyone wants to buy some gold, hit me up.