We went to a stall where a man was selling necklaces and earrings. While the girls were picking out beads to make into necklaces, a very drunk man wandered up to us demanding money. We ignored him and told him no several times and he eventually staggered away. A crowd gradually grew around us. They didn't recognize me so they asked for my name, which is Nakiru Emily. Over the course of the afternoon my name spread around town and several people shouted it at me. Thanks for yelling at me; yes, I do know that's my name; no, I'm not going to marry you, drink beer with you or give you money!
We bought some tomatoes and twenty mandazi, which are like bite-size fried dough. Delicious. We walked over to the Noah's Ark Hotel, a brightly colored building with a covered veranda, and sat down to eat and talk. I had a great chat with the girls about how much they're looking forward to going to boarding school next year, and lots of other things. They are such sweet girls and really encouraged me that as much as they can't wait to go away to a "real" school in Kenya, they're glad I'm here and that I'm part of the "family" while their two big sisters are away at school. We determined to make the most out of this year and have tons of fun together while we can.
We had been there for about half an hour when a large, older, respectable looking man came up to the veranda. A group of warrior-age young men had been hovering near the door of the hotel watching us and talking about us; we ignored them the whole time. This man walked up to the crowd of men and demanded to know why they had not given us chairs to sit in. "This is a disgrace! These are visitors!" We tried to explain to him that we were not patrons of the hotel. The men explained that we are not visitors, we are those of Nakaale. Mary and Kipsy told him that we are not visitors, we live here, and we chose to sit on the ground. Don't blame these men. He was smiling while he said it, but he was sincere -- you are our visitors, you are shaming us when you sit on the ground, you make us look like bad hosts, and you boys -- where are your manners? Get chairs for these ladies! Kipsy then blurted out, "We have buttocks for sitting!" which caused roars of laughter. Chuckling and shaking his head, the man walked away. No one brought us chairs. The young men greeted us, and one asked Mary to go to an edonga (dance) with him. He said that the next day he would come to Nakaale and that Bob, Mary's dad, should have a dance in his yard. Um, no thanks. We walked away.
As we were heading back to meet Martha and Pastor Dave, an old man on a bicycle stopped to greet us. He was very nice. Just then the local crazy lady (sorry... not sure how else to put it) walked up to us shouting and demanding money. He said "her head is broken" and quickly rode away on his bike. We ignored her and kept walking; she's been known to snatch at purses.
The mzungu show is interesting when you're a short term visitor. It's exciting to have everyone waving and staring at you. It's kind of fun to be the center of attention. But those feelings are fleeting, and now I usually find it to be a nuisance. It's awkward to have people stalking you, pointing, yelling at you, constantly begging from you just because you're white. Young women have a particularly bad time of it -- we are constantly whistled at, offered cows for marriage, and receive many other unwelcome advances. But we stick together and we're perfectly safe. It's just uncomfortable. I've gotten fairly good at firmly saying "emam jik" (absolutely not) and walking away straight-faced when yelled at by men.
Yet, despite the hassle, I love hanging out with my "little sisters" in the bustling metropolis of Namalu :)
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