Mzungu Alert

Today after lunch, I went to the market with a few friends from our group. Let me begin by explaining a little bit about the market. It is like a swap meet/farmers market/Joanne’s fabrics on steroids. At the market, there is everything you could possibly ever want… tons of food: lots of fruits and vegetables, beans and rice in bulk, enough bananas to feed a small army of monkeys, and potatoes up the wazoo. There is also Tupperware, dishes, clothing, car parts, jewelry, and lots of homemade crafts. But the best part of the market is the FABRIC. There are rows and rows of fabrics that hang from the ceiling. Everywhere you look walking down these isles, there is color. All of them are so beautiful; it is as if your eyes cannot seem to look at all of them fast enough.

So back to my story about today’s market adventure…I was looking at a fabric that Mallory was contemplating purchasing and I was leaning against one of the booths. This booth happened to be selling women’s silky panties. She was finishing the purchase and I walked to the next row to start haggling for the fabric I wanted. I was talking to the woman who owned it and another women pulled on my arm and dress. I turned around thinking she was going to try to get me to come see her fabrics, when she bent down next to me and picked up pastel-y pink silky chonies. She stared at me holding the panties in front of my face. There are about five women around me by now, and they all burst into laughter, in unison. They were all shrieking and laughing at me and talking to each other in Kinyarwanda. I started laughing too and telling them “No, No, No, I’m still wearing some, I promise”. I kept apologizing and they kept laughing. Every time I would say “babadida,” meaning “sorry,” they would laugh harder. One woman thought she would add to the joke and even felt my butt-side to make sure I was still wearing underwear. The women were having a ball. Mallory came over because she could hear the hysterical women and my squeals of laughter and embarrassment, and then they showed her the underwear and I explained the situation. The woman who was selling the underwear took them back, pretended to scold me, and then she too joined in the frenzy.

The good news: I got a beautiful fabric. The bad news: I paid for it with my pride. It is wonderful being in another country; humility is practically shoved down your throat. Great. J