1/23 I WILL Eat You
My strict pre-Kilimanjaro exercise regimen included a one-time jog in the village. It was actually quite enjoyable. It’s not hot season yet, I got to be alone, I was able to have short manageable conversations with people excited to see me, and I saw loads of cool monkeys and trees.
The best part, however, was coming upon a house outside of which a woman and three kids were holding clothes. They saw me running from a soccer field’s distance away and panicked like I was an oncoming tornado. They dropped the clothes , she picked up a kid, dragged the others, and they all ran with a speed you rarely witness from a villager. At first, they hid behind the huts of the compound. But as I slowed and neared and they knew they’d been spotted, they ran inside and slammed the doors.
In a culture that places the utmost importance on civil greetings, this could be taken as offensive. I, however, laughed my ass off. I couldn’t just leave them with that, so I entered the compound. Obviously, I toyed with ideas of growling, pawing at the doors, and stomping around shouting, “FI FYE FO FUM, I’m going to eat you!” But they were already hiding behind closed doors, so if I did scare them even more, I wouldn’t have the satisfaction of seeing the results. I mean… it would be mean. So I walked around, trying to keep my giggling to a minimum and said, “HELLOOO? I saw you all run, but you don’t need to be scared! Maybe you’ve never seen a toubab before? But it’s okay, I live with Imam Alpha Mamadou! I come to greet you only! Will do one greet me back? Really, you don’t need to be scared… OK, OK, I’m going…” They never made a move or sound. The doors remained shut. I flashed back to my days as an RA… HILARIOUS!
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