Azungu Bo?

The novelty of my complexion has less than worn off...mostly because my complexion hasn’t changed, I guess! It’s ridiculous how easily I’m spotted. Elders will greet me, while kids make a fuss. It seems that all the English kids know has to be screamed with syllables merging together, and it always sounds like a demand. They will say, How are you?  Where are you going? What’s your name? Give your money. Say any of it back to them and you will often find they don’t know what it means. Or if you don’t answer in a certain way, you get blank stares. For instance, there is no other answer to “How are you” except for “Fine. And you?”

Asking where I’m going feels invasive. Everyone asks...everyone. Part of it is understandable, as I am quite noticeably a foreigner, and locals make it their business to keep track of me, but the frequency it's asked, and when people in town are asking, it gets annoying. I’ll often answer in Chichewa to try and validate my presence, but that doesn’t change anything. They also don’t accept an answer of just going for a walk...it lacks the acceptability of purpose, such as going to work, or Thondwe, or another village.

People, mainly kids, right in Kalino, won’t demand money when I pass. As you get closer to the trading post though, ‘give your money!’ Is one of the things you hear across the fields.  I got a laugh the other day when my bicycle taxi driver yelled back at them for me “iwe, I’m not money!”