After following my blog and reading a number of my emails, a good friend from DC recently asked if ministry officials “look askance at [my] youth or race.” A reasonable and intelligent question, I was shocked by my own response: an overwhelming “no.”
Race. Quite frankly, whites (which are referred to mercilessly by black Ugandans as “muzungus”) are associated with education and wealth. It’s pretty mind-boggling, but if a Caucasian recommends or endorses a particular concept, it is far more likely that the idea will be considered/implemented than if it’s condoned by a native Ugandan. The wealth component manifests itself even more blatantly. Ugandans generally assume that all muzungus are affluent, and attempt to befriend whites (at least partially) as a result. I’ve had individuals approach me (initially I thought it flirtatious, which is only sometimes accurate) just to make conversation—this frequently entails recounting the entirety of life stories—and befriend me. It's a bit of a bizarre dynamic, but people certainly do not view my race with suspicion.
Age. I've had men inquire as to why I'm not wed, but that's admittedly the only age-related harassment to which I’ve been subjected. (And, let us be honest here, I’ve gotten the exact same question from my beloved grandmother, who takes a small degree of enjoyment from reminding me that by the time she was my age, she’d given birth to all three of her children. Thank GOD times have changed!) One man from the MOH actually had the audacity to ask if my father was deceased—bear in mind that life expectancy is shorter here than in the States—because he couldn't imagine a father permitting his young daughter to travel unaccompanied such a long way from home. I got a kick out of that one, as not only is my father very much alive and kicking, but so is my grandfather! Anyway, thus far, neither race nor relative youth has been a hindrance and my muzungu-ness has, if anything, been of service.
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