“Muzungu!” I know that word. I want to look up- to look at the people calling to me, the stalls with clothes, vegetables, fruit, spices, but I look down at my feet, at the dirt ground. I think I might fall on the small, uneven rocky path I’m sharing with hundreds of other confident locals (who don’t need to look down when they are walking). I’m like a ghost walking through the village market. People stare at me, talk to me, follow me, a man stops so close to me that I have to stop abruptly, almost running into him. Continue reading “Muzungu at Maramba Market”
What Am I Doing?
Great question. Also, one of the most frequently asked questions along with how old I am (followed by why are you not married) and how I feel about Trump. Most frequently my answer is I don’t know- depending on who I am talking to and when. I still don’t have answers for most of these questions, but I do know what I am doing, for the next few months at least. Continue reading “What Am I Doing?”