When K goes Crazy

Most of the time, the whole "toubab" thing isn't too trying. This is a blunt culture in which people point out the obvious sans any sort of political correctness, and it's pêrfectly acceptable. I mean, they've got a point, those kids. Even asking for gifts all the time is understandable. The only white people some of them see are rich Santa Angelina Jolies. Why not try?

But sometimes it grates on the nerves like nothing else. It's just like-- I'm here to HELP you and you're treating me like this? Like after we left our lovely little villages for community-based training and entered the metropolis ( not really) of Tamba.

We'd gone to bed past midnight and woken up at three. Had already had 5+ hours in the sept-place and JUST WANTED BEAN SANDWICHES. We bought bean sandwiches. To do so, we fought through the throngs of talibes, greeting, joking, fighting with kindness. No go. They continued to surround us like pirranhas and one even put up his fists. This is when I snapped. I became slightly psychotic and it totally worked.

Before I knew what I was doing, I ran at them going, "AARRGGHH!" with my hands in the air like I was pretending to be a monster. They scattered, appropriately started. But I didn't stop there. Oh no, I did not stop.

"Donnez-MOI un cadeau!" I shouted several times. "Huh? Why not? I don't have money, look at my shoes!" (my shoes are duct-taped together which is great for times like this and because people ask you for your shoes a lot otherwise) "Huh? Give ME something. Hey, I see you've got a watch, give me that! See, mine is broken, let's trade! Huh? Yeah!"

I wish I could say I did not then forceably remove this punk-kid's watch and replace it with my own truly broken one. But that would be a lie. And though I may wail on starving African children, I don't lie. Luckily, the laughter of the other volunteers traveeling with me brought me back to my senses and that's pretty much where it ended (except we traded watches back.)

I'm totally going to do it again. The monster part, at least. Another suggestion I've heard is to sing to them to freak them out in a peaceful passive-aggressive way. Gotta be resourceful here.