When a Volunteer finds
themselves at site, often times you are the only American for miles, or rather
kilometers. Sometimes you are a
three-hour taxi ride from your closest PCV, and that is on a good day.
You get used to being the
only one. You find that being the token
muzungu in your community and village is comforting. When you walk into the market, people know
your name and you are treated to your typical purchases of tomatoes, green
peppers, carrots, eggplant, onion, and garlic.
You find yourself at peace
and truth be told, when you see other white people, you get caught off guard
and if you are like me, you experience a minor panic attack.
Where are they from?
What are they doing
here?
I remember one time in
Mbarara when I was headed to Nakumatt, a fairly large supermarket housing
everything from sliced cheese and deli meat to televisions and washing
machines. When I got out of the taxi I
stumbled upon thirty white people taking over the staircase. They smiled while I ran into the store like a
scared puppy. Fortunately I saw some
other Peace Corps Volunteers who went out to find out more details about these
whites. They were from Europe on a vacation
and were headed back home after a weeks visit to The Pearl of Africa.
I couldn’t believe
it.
I was in culture shock!
Well since I have had to
move out of my home in Ishaka while I wait for a new site, I am living with
another Volunteer. Also staying here is
a new PCV who recently swore-in. It is a
house somehow full of Americans. I never
thought I would be living in such proximity to other PCV’s but I cannot
complain… The company is wonderful and I believe I am slowly coming over my
anxiety I had built up in my 14 months in country.
No comments:
Post a Comment