Kenyan Kids and Canadian Mzungus

"If hope was a person, it would be a child. No matter what the tradgedy or circumstance, his true nature always shines through" - Take the Walk

As it turns out, being a Canadian/Westerner/white person makes you somewhat of a celebrity to Kenyan kids. Along the same lines as a "gringo", we are now "Mzungus", aka white people (we are still a little unclear as to whether "mzungu" includes everyone with white skin, or specifically caucasians, but anyway...)

Graham was the first one to fill us in on this phenomrnon because of the time he spend in Kisumu. We didn't get the full experience until we spent the day in Kibera. It was hilarious. When kids see you, they come running up to you "Mzungu, mzungu, how are you". All of them say "how are you" in the funniest little nasal voice, apparently thats how we sound to them. Every child you pass says this to you! Even the 2 and 3 year olds say it to you, and you can tell they don't even know what they are saying because they slur the words until they are barely untelligible. They just know that's what they say to us white folk whenever they see us. Even funnier is the fact that even the big kids, who seem like they would know what they are saying, seem totally stumped when you answer "I'm fine, how are you??".

It was absolutely crazy! Every single child we passed would say "How are you??"... Some would come right up and grab your hand and walk for blocks with you not even saying a world...the more timid kids would cower in their doorways, and just mouth the words without a peep. But no exaggeration (I know, hard to believe, coming from me) EVERY kid takes part in the "How are you" chorus. (I have to mention that at one point so many kids were chanting it that Graham acutally held his hands up and pretended to be an orchestra conductor..haha!)

The kids are so fascinated by us...They barely have any body hair, so they can't get over playing with our arm hair. And the hair on our heads, it fascinates them. At the orphanage, every day the girls take out our hair and play with it for as long as we'll let them. Sometimes they will put it in little braids and twists (which are a total pain to take out since they get so tangled and caked with dirt), where as other days they are perfectly content to just stand there and stroke our hair softly. Other times they will just hold our hands in theirs and examine our palms, or gently trace our blue veins with their fingertips.



Some of the kids are just so damn sweet you wouldn't believe it. They day of our Kibera cleanup, at the end of the route was a little bridge, we sat down for a few minutes to rest beside Derek, a cute little boy about 10 years old, dressed in a camo pant and jacket set. He was quiet for a few minutes, but slowly he started talking to us while we sat there. Then it was time to walk into town for the infamous (and SUPER fabulous) street food. The mundazis (deep fried bread balls, basically) were about 25c each, so since my pal Derek hasn't left my side, I bought him one, and basically made a friend for life. By the time I offered him the last inch of coke (that I'd bought for about 50c) he was basically ready to propose!! We went back to watch a bit of a community soccer game, where he promtly introduced me to his brother. I'm serious, if Dad offered him a dowry, I'd be a married woman right now! Haha! When it was time to leave, he asked if he could get my number, and promised he'd call me from his moms phone. It was SO funny! He was so cute, I had to let him down gently!




-Delaney xo