Muzungu

When I lived in China I was Lao Wai. In Japan I was Gaijin, in Thailand, Farang. In Rwanda I am Muzungu. The word follows me everywhere I go. Sometimes it's voiced as a simple statement of fact or an expression of surprise. Other times it's a greeting, often followed or preceded by "Bonjour." In this former Belgian colony educated people are expected to speak French. My education is apparently lacking.

The familiar chorus of Muzungu followed me even more persistantly than the occaisional herd of small children the other day while I was on an extended walk through some of the smaller houses on the outskirts of Kigali. Always the same. "Muzungu!" "Bonjour Muzungu." But at one house about half a dozen kids came out and started shouting in perfectly articulated English. "Come and see the Muzungu!" "Look, it's a Muzungu!" "Did you see the Muzungu?" I was laughing way to hard to stop and talk to them. But I did manage a wave and a smile and they seemed satisfied with that.