Blending in Naivasha as a mzungu

            Naivasha is a small town in Kenya in the Great Rift Valley an hour outside of Nairobi and well known as a horticulture town for their roses, tulips, and sunflowers.  It was also where we had our orientation for the first three days and was introduced to the concept of being a mzungu (foreigner). 

            After an intense security briefing where we were told how we needed to act and what to expect when walking around the streets in Kenya, I decided to walk down the main street on Naivisha on my own.  While this may not sound intimidating, it was probably one of the scariest experiences of my life.  Being a mzungu, one can expect different treatment in numerous ways.  It is more acceptable for white women to wear jeans, speak up to men, and drink alcohol.  It also means that you are judged based on Hollywood/MTV standards so everyone assumes that American women are looking for a good time.  Walking down the street, every single head snapped towards me and I heard murmurs of mzungu constantly.  We were told not to look at them and not to acknowledge people who were trying to sell us things in order to avoid being followed or harassed, so I walked with my eyes down, trying to act as confidently as possible, while whistles, hisses, and cries of pretty-pretty followed me through the entire walk.  Walking down the road, it crossed my mind that no matter what I did, I would always be a white mzungu struggling with Swahili trying to understand the culture but never being able to fit in because of the color of my skin.  Never before have I been in a place where I stuck out so completely.  It didn’t matter that I was wearing a skirt down to my knees and my shoulders were covered, my hair was still blond and my sin was still pale.  Both California and Washington D.C. have a very diverse population so anyone can walk down the street without turning every single head on the street but on this walk I was the only white person in the city which created such a barrier between me and everyone else.

            The next day we had a random drop off in Naivasha where the bus dropped off us by ourselves and we had to navigate to Naivash Kubwa by asking directions of the people living in Naivsha.  At first I was terrified because of my experiences the day before- I was afraid everyone would just stare and no one would be willing to help- but it was an amazing experience!  The first lady I met was the director of an orphanage and gave me directions right away while asking me why I didn’t just hop on a motorcycle (before we left we had to give up our money, phones, and everything else that would help us out).  Walking down the street, I found a woman who gladly told me how to make irio and discussed life in Nairobi.  I had a conversation with a man comparing Kibabki and Obama in Swahili and played with a bunch of kids and their mothers, and  I also tripped and almost fell into a ditch numerous times (my clumsiness has remained constant from the states to Kenya).  Once I reached the Naivash Kubwa, I spoke to a bookseller who explained to us the complexities of the Ocampa Six and met a man who bought me sugarcane and taught me how to eat it.  It was so embarrassing spitting it out in front of the group of men.  To cap off the experience, we had a 45 minutes conversation with an woman named Mary in Swahili discussing her take on the post election violence and life in Kenya. 

            When I first arrived in Naivasha, I was terrified at the prospect that I would be unable to be anything besides an awkward mzungu stumbling around a city and a culture that I did not fully understand but after the drop off I learned that though I may be a mzungu there are things that are universal like laughter at someone at falling in a ditch and appreciation for a willingness to learn and discover.  I am so excited for what the next three months have in store