Being a Minority

Thought you might want to see what our son wrote this morning....from the heart of Africa:
“Muzungoo, muzungoo” the children cry as we drive up. The car has not even stopped before they are closing in on us, jaws hanging down and eyes wide open. The more adventurous ones smile, giggle and say “Good morning”, regardless of what time of day it is, or “Bonjour”. The less adventurous ones just stare and stare and stare. It is not everyday that they get to see someone as interesting as one of those pasty, hairy white people in their neck of the woods. So when yours truly is obliging them by venturing out in public they take full advantage of it. It is not a ‘somethings-hanging-from-your-nose’ kind of stare, but is rather a stare of interest/entertainment, and they will gladly smile or wave in return. Makes me feel like a celebrity or something.The people here are rather friendly and knowledgable. They know Kirundi, their native tongue, then a lot of them will also speak Swahili and quite a number of them know some French too (the language of officialness) and a few will know some English too. Last evening I went to an open field to get a good picture of the sunset and was almost immediately surrounded by a group of boys. Our conversation went something like this:“Good morning” “Bonjour or Bonsoir” they would say“Ahamoro, Meriway” (peace to you and good afternoon in Kirundi) I would say“How are you? Sa va (how is it going in French)” they would say“Sawa” (well in Swahili) I would say. So in the course of less than a minute we would use four languages and exhaust all the phrases and words that we knew in common. Then I would take some pictures and they would all clamber around to see the review on the digital display. After they calmed down they would start asking me things in what I think is French to which I would reply “Je ne comprenes pas” (I don’t understand) and retreat from my foray into the culture."