I AM LEGEND

What is like to be a white person in Kenya you ask? Well let me take this moment to enlighten.

Throughout all of my travels, I have experienced the feeling of being an outsider of some sort or the feeling of being ‘the other’. Kenya though, takes this feeling to the extreme times 200.

Man or woman makes no difference. We are all Nzungus. We are all white man. Literally no matter where we travel “nzungu!” is yelled across town. Even packed in the back of Simon’s truck, the flash of white skin can make a blind man see.

Yes we are a rarity in Kenya, but at least within the city we are mildly accepted. In any establishment we are treated fair (but I am sure we would be ripped off if we weren’t with a local). Those that yell to us are either children or men who have the mental mindset of 13 year old boy.

While here in Kisumu, I take a boda-boda (bicycle) into town. The chorus of “Nzungu nzungu!” is my daily soundtrack. It is just like the “ciao bella” of Italy. You grow to love it and hate it all at once. It is always one of those funny moments when you arrive back in the states and realize that you are back to being a shade of gray. You can go unnoticed anywhere and mind your own business. You can just blend. Not that I love fitting into the crowd, but I love that it I can become invisible if I desire. Here, no luck Chuck.

In the rural Mbita it is actually most amusing. There they are really so secluded from the world that when they see a white person chances are that we are the first they have seen. I am like a walking legend. A myth come to life! Vampires do exist! Ah just kidding.

But, yeah, we are like aliens. The children’s eyes become wide and soak in the terror and thrill at once. The adults invite us to bless their homes. I am a Holy angel come to life.

It is all about the skin man. The children at the YGC orphanage are accustomed to seeing us volunteers come and go, but they like everyone else cannot help but want to touch my burnt, blistered flesh. They poke and prod as though my skin is magic. What will it feel like? How does it change colors? (White to fire red that is…)

Kenyans don’t burn. They seem to not even be bothered by the heat. Real Rude.

Well I guess I should appreciate the attention whilst possible. I am walking Medusa. I pass and turn viewers to stone from my beauty.  Yes. My blistered beauty.