One more shot at this thing called technology.
I’m gonna try to write this update offline again and hope that it’ll work at the internet café.
So, before I start off on another anecdote, I wanted to shout out to the awesome people who sent me packages! J My mom knew exactly what to send to satiate my sweets and salts cravings. Daphne and Pedro (and LW) – dude yall just doubled my closet and desserts! haha Jennifer and Mark – thanks for the goodies! haha It was truly a nice surprise that made a better present than the pink shirt that Mark got me! haha (I ate a big of chip and ramen for breakfast yesterday! :D)
A Malawian Romance.
Once upon a time, I (or me) am walking down a dirt road in the sweltering heat. While the sun is scorching my skin to a dark clay red, I’m desperately trying to find Chimpesa village. All the while I’m thinking, why didn’t I just rebel against the Peace Corps rule for once and just hop on that motorbike?
Then, a guy bikes up next to me and greets me. He’s wobbling on his bike because he’s trying to keep up with my slow pace up the hill. Eventually, he gets off his bike and starts walking next to me. I’m doing my best to hurry up and find this village. In the meantime, he asks for my name, where I’m from, what I’m doing in Malawi, etc. And I don’t think he even told me his name.
Then, he cuts to the chase, “Have you married?” Uh oh.
“No.” Why didn’t I say “yes”?!
“Why not?”
“Sindikufuna kukwatiwa.” Because I don’t want to. Well, it’s not a fib… kinda. Then, this guy gives me a 10-minute lecture in his broken English about why I can’t just say “I don’t want to” when someone asks me if I’m married. Something about it’s everyone’s purpose in life to marry. Or something like that.
“Right.” Where is this village?!
Finally, he asks me where I live.
My response is, “Oh, in America.”
Then, he desperately tries all the different ways of finding my location of residency: “Where do you put up for the night?” “Where do you sleep?” “Where do you wake up?”
So, I play dumb and innocently respond, “I don’t understand.”
Despite my annoyance, he continues asking where I live.
“Oh, I sleep in my bed.” Can you tell I’m trying to stall?!
Finally, he cuts to the chase and after a moment of suspense, he says, “Should chance you fall in love with me?” *cough* What a way to kill the romance buddy. What was your name again?
So, I say again, “Sindikufuna kukwatiwa.”
“I mean, can we be friends?” Poor kid, he’s gonna get his juvenile little heart crushed.
“Sure. Everyone’s my friend. That guy can be my friend too,” I respond and point at a 5-year-old kid. Hey, I’m trying to be nice!
Then the guy tries to find out where I live again when I hear my name, “Ellen!” I turn to find a guy I worked with. Relieved, I darted without looking back. Sorry kid, but it just ain’t meant to be!
Lesson learned: I need a picture of Ryan Phillippe pronto! Wouldn’t it be awesome to flash his picture and ask, “Isn’t he the most beautiful man in the world?” and blind them with a huge rock on my finger. Or maybe I could tell them that they’d have to go to America and Asia to ask my parents for my hand in marriage. Or better yet, I could tell them that my bride price is 1,000 cows, 1,000 chickens, and a land the size of Texas.
O.K., I’m not that ruthless. I could just stick with saying that I’m married and walk away. But hey, maybe one day Ryan Phillippe will come to Malawi, and someone will point out that he has a short Asian wife. And he’ll realize that I was the love of his life that he was looking for all along.
O.K., snapping back to reality. But on a serious note, even though it’s amusing to receive all these random marriage proposals and awkward compliments, I’m becoming more and more annoyed. Unfortunately, I’ve become more obnoxious too. A student asked me if I were married, I responded “No, and I don’t wanna marry in Malawi.” I realized how obnoxious that sounded without really trying to, so I didn’t bother trying to argue when a teacher responded, “You never know what God has in store for you.” Instead, I told them that I had received marriage proposals, and the teacher asked, “Oh? What did you say?” Uhh… what else can I say?! Yes?! And marry every man that asks me?! “Oh, I just say ‘no’.”
The fact of the matter is that when these guys see me (or any other light-skinned person), they see dollar signs flashing. But what really agitates me is how quickly they judge me because of the color of my skin. I was reminded of the way that women – Asian women in particular – were portrayed historically. They were the “exotic” ones – the sexual objects of every man’s affection. Who were to be the geishas, the comfort women of WWII, the prostitutes in Thailand/India/Cambodia/etc., and hey, who played the illiterate but sexy women in Western movies? Foreign women in Malawi are portrayed in much the same way. I’m sorry, but I’m not about to be objectified.
And to be honest, it really frustrates me at how Westernized Malawians’ standards have become. The lighter your skin, the more beautiful you are. The more you dress like Beyonce, the more attractive you are. I can’t say that I’m exempt from such mentality (I once thought that to be blonde-and-blue is to be beautiful), but the more that I see how ridiculous it is, the more I wish that I could un-brainwash them and show these girls how beautiful they really are. And that they don’t have to be subject to such ignorant expectations. And that they don’t have to sleep with a boy everytime he says “I love you” or when a sugar daddy entices them into their home for a little “something-something”.
I know that’s “just how things are”, but man, my heart goes out to them. But I just gotta take one step at a time, right?
Wow, that sounded like a bitter entry. haha That wasn’t my intention at all! I’ll update with more light-hearted entries tomorrow… if this entry successfully makes it into my blog. After that, it’ll be another month or so before I’ll update again.
Until then… tiwonana!
