Being (o)mzungu here

Culture shock is everywhere. It happens in every transition you make from place to place. It's even in one country, although the extent you feel will be less radical and easy to adjust (or ignore). Coming to Uganda was actually not much different from my transition to America from Korea. Whether the place is developed or developing is not really important, but how much you are ready and willing to accept new ideas and new rules is much about everything that matters. Once I learned that I should not be freaked out or judgmental about new custom, it becomes easier to discover that people in Uganda (or any other places) have more in common than different with us. The only difference is that they just have lived that way. It's just the way it has been, it is, and it will be.

Saying so, though, does not mean I have no curiosities or questions popping up everyday. There are always some parts that need explanation. Not like 'Why are they doing so?', but more like I want to listen to their stories.

"Bye mzungu." is one. No matter we are walking toward or alongside the kids, they just yell at us 'Bye, mzungu.' There's no 'Hi' or 'Hello, mzungu,' but it's always 'Bye.' I'm not trying to make this sound more intriguing anyway, but this is actually out of pure curiosity.

"Give me money." is another thing. I just do not wish to hear kids saying it. Kids like us, or at least, they like to be around and observe foreign people. Whenever we pass some school, kids just run out of school and follow all the way to wherever we end. I'm pretty sure all teachers would hate us. Anyway, there are some kids who just push their hands toward us and say 'Give me money' as though they are saying something innocent with no intention like 'Bye, mzungu.' It's just bold and guiltless or shameless that I feel like I somehow owe them money and need to give some. Apparently, many of kids just learned this from their older siblings or even their parents by hearing them so many times from young. I've heard and seen many parents push their kids, even very little ones, to ask money to those on the street in Kampala. When I'm in a matatu on my way back to Nkokonjeru and the vehicle stops, some girls usually come beside window on my side and put their hands together in front of me. Also, women on street put their children in front of them when asking for some favorable donations.

There must be many different stories beyond them acting these ways, but poverty should hit one of them I assume. And this sometimes creates an invisible wall between foreigners and locals. Difference in wealth between us and them can be an excuse for acting innocent while asking for money. Also, we, foreigners, can be blamed for giving out one-time help, gifts, too easily to locals. No matter what lies as reason, it is really sad we are still not looking through each other as we are. I feel like there are always pre-formed description on each of us. We have some prejudices and opinions that were already formed toward one another part.

Not getting light or using outhouse is just a simple thing. You just go with it and bear with it. You will become used to whatever, but this thing is the real cultural barrier, the one that we need to overcome.