The Life of Britney Spears

Being a Muzungu in Uganda is like being Britney Spears; everyone knows your name, relationship status, eating habits, comments on your clothes and feels drawn to stare at you and might even follow you around like paparazzi.

There is not room to have an “off day” and not smile or say hello to every single person that yells out “Muzungu!” There are not many international foreigners in Uganda, much less Caucasian visitors, so it is important to be on your best behaviour because you are an ambassador for your country, whether you realize it or not. Usually I am fine with the attention but sometimes when I am really tired it feels very overwhelming and I want to hide. Usually this happens when I am talking to my mom on the phone and have three small children following me or when I exercise in the mornings and children forget they are supposed to walk to school and instead sit down to watch me.  Being a minority can be a good or bad experience depending on where you go. Muzungs are thought to have lots of money and  volunteer in Uganda which thankfully is a reputation that makes me feel welcome in the community.

It is an interesting experience being a visible minority. In Uganda I live in a village with only two other aboriginal interns and our skin makes it impossible to blend into any crowd. Repeated cries of “Bye Muzungu, Bye!” from small children remind me that I look different than everyone else. If getting followed by children while I walk, talk on the phone, eat, breathe... does not let me know that I am different there is always the language barrier. The official language of the country may be English but everyone speaks Lugandan and few people can speak English fluently.  I also get charged “Muzungu prices” for items and can be asked to pay many times more than another person would.

I had a funny experience in a taxi coming home from Masaka when the Conductor asked for 4,000 shillings for the ride. I knew the ride only cost 3,000 shillings and so did everyone else in the taxi but they were keeping quiet. “Neda Conductor, Oohle moulaloo? Masaka n Mbarara 3,000 shillings!” (No sir, Are you crazy? The price from Masaka to Mbarara is 3,000 shillings!) I argued. Everyone started laughing and copying what I had said, they were so surprised that I could speak Lugandan and I knew the correct price. Even the Conductor smiled at me and took the correct change.

I went into town one day and a man came up to me and said "Are you here to buy Cassava again? You always buy so much, you must really like it." As he was talking I was staring at his face, trying to remember where I knew him from. Quite often people use my name even when we have never met before and then introduce themselves once our conversation ends.

Another time I spent two days organizing, decorating and working as an usher seating 1,000 guests for a party for John Marie’s Priesthoods Ordination Ceremony. At lunchtime I was exhausted and sat down. Someone took my picture and it ended up on facebook where people I did not know were discussing my facial expression and trying to figure out my emotions. Facebook is like a tabloid magazine! I commented, shocked that this boring picture of me would be posted and cause so much conversation. I suppose that happens when you are Britney Spears a Muzungu.