Sticking out like a sore thumb…

I am the only non-African in my village of Kilole.  Every other person was born in Tanzania, the vast majority being from the village and having never lived anywhere else.  So needless to say, I attract a lot of attention.  Not only am I a foreigner (Mzungu, in case you forgot), but I am pretty much glow-in-the-dark white.  Kids will run up and touch my arm, then giggle and run away.  I think some of them don’t believe anyone can actually be that white.  Well, that’s not surprising, because many of my American friends can’t believe that I’m actually as translucent as I am.

            So while everyone can see me from a mile away wherever I go, everyone in my village has the most beautiful, rich dark skin I’ve ever seen.  They are freakin stunning!  There are numerous people who I feel could walk into a modeling agency and get a contract immediately.  Because their skin is so dark, if they do have any blemishes (mosquito bites, scratches, etc), it’s really difficult to see.  Then there’s me.  Every single bug bite I’ve gotten since being in country has been pointed out.  If I have a zit, people point, poke them, and ask “Is that a mosquito bite?”  The first time this happened, I struggled to explain (in Kiswahili) that every month I would get some zits and it was completely normal.  My homestay family seemed very concerned and would keep asking me about my pimples, and if I really was sure it wasn’t mosquito bites.

            When I was asked again in my village (multiple times) about why I had these red spots on my face, I finally just settled for the answer “It’s because I’m white.”  They stop, look slightly confused, and then generally just accept that white people are weird.  Though you may think it’s bad that I use it, when I don’t want to explain something, don’t know HOW to explain it or any other reason I don’t want to explain things, I just use the excuse “it’s an American thing.”