Today we visited the hospital and I joyfully explained to James the craziness of American culture. A nurse walked up to him and gestured to me and asked something in Swahili. She asked me where I was from and I happily tweeted “California” with the mild accent I put on when talking to anyone of another culture. She looked at me puzzled and said “you are dark” and I said “yes” and she said “why”? I tried to explain that my mother is Mexican and the other half of my decent is central American which is a mix of European, African and Native American, she seemed unsatisfied with that answer. She told James,
“she looks Mzungi, her hair is Mzungi but she is dark”, then laughed and walked away like someone was playing a joke, like a duck with a hat on.
This was the third time in two days I had been asked this question. The first time I had no idea. It was outside of a bar that Emmanuel too k us to evangelize at. There were 10 or so men standing outside, and I wasn’t really paying attention feeling no real call to be there and figuring the appointment was for someone else, then I overheard someone say that they thought their relationship with God must be good since they go to sleep and wake up. At that point my face twisted up, partly in disbelief and I asked “you, know you can speak to God anytime you want right, 24/7? Jesus died on the cross so you have a direct line anytime day or night…” It was awhile before I was done but by the end a rapport had been built enough for me to ask them their tribes. Somewhere in all of that someone had asked me why I was dark but Emmanuel did not translate it for me and waited until we got home to ask, by his face I think he thought I might be offended. Occasionally I see albino Africans who have white skin and blonde hair but based on their features look as African as anyone else in Kenya. I wonder if they think that I have some sort of mutation that makes me dark.
