Toubab. Toubako. Chinois.
Toubahaako.
I
can't leave my house without hearing these phrases being yelled at me
from every direction. Usually, I let it roll off my back and ignore
the immature teenagers, but sometimes it just gets to me. I've been
here for over 2 ½ years and being called a foreigner hasn't gotten
any easier. Sometimes children yell it because they want to say hi
and when you tell them your name, they immediately change to yelling
that. Other times, it's said in a derogatory manner and usually the
best course of action is to ignore it as to not fuel the fire. There
are days where I miss the safety bubble that was village, where
anyone who dared to call me Toubab was reprimanded.
Friday
was one of those days.
I was
walking home for my lunch break when a child kept yelling Toubab at
me. I ignored him. After I was a few yards past him, he started to
throw things at me. It wasn't until a rock rolled passed me that I
realized what was happening. I immediately turn around and he takes
off in a sprint. Furious, I turn my attention to another kid, and
demand answers. Who was that other kid? What is his name? Where does
he live? He wasn't any help. There were three other women around
and one of them had the audacity to tell me to forgive the kid.
Seriously? So I said “You wouldn't stand for a child disrespecting
you, let alone throwing stuff at you, and you want me to forgive
him!?” And her response was “yes, he's just a child and he
doesn't know any better.” But children turn into adults and if
they don't realize that this is unacceptable behavior, then it gets
perpetuated from generation to generation.
This
is the second time that I've had rocks thrown at me. The first time
was after a really long day at a clinic and I called my friend in
tears- it was exactly what I didn't need that night. This time
around, I had a wonderful morning and was in high spirits, but this
immediately changed it. More than anything, my feelings were hurt.
No matter what, I will still be a foreigner.
Yesterday,
while my friends and I were at a dinner stand, a man comes up to us
and asks us for money. He doesn't address any of the 20 men standing
around, but hones in on the three white girls. I'm still upset from
Friday, so I'm immediately on the defense. I call him out for not
asking anyone else and focusing on us because of our skin color. He
admitted to it and proceeded to stay around. I appeal to the other
people at the stand for assistance in getting rid of the guy, but all
I got was a few half hearted attempts. So frustrating.
It's
times like these where I wonder what I'm still doing here. Why do I
continue to subject myself to verbal abuse? These situations are few
and far between, but they cut me to the core. At the same time, all
it takes for me to smile is one of my neighborhood children calling
my name or a baby grinning toothlessly at me. Life here is stressful
and a roller coaster, but in the end, it's worth it.
Peace
