Because They're Burning Bricks

Tamandani’s name is a command to praise god*. She is my 4-year-old neighbour and is absolutely fascinated by me. The first time I met her she wouldn’t say a word to me but her father told me that she had been talking nonstop about how she was going to make friends with the mzungu who lives in that house over there. It took her a little while to actually come over though, and her little sister Alinafe** is still quite frightened of me. The other day Alinafe waved at me because Tamandani had, but when I actually waved back her face screwed up and she thought seriously about wailing.

 

Anyway, so now Tamandani and I have a routine. Tamandani comes over, doesn’t go any further into the house than my kitchen without my permission, and talks to me for a little bit. I practice my Chichewa and she practices her English. Then she curls up in front of me to indicate that she’s ready for me to pick her upside down. When I get tired of that, she grabs my hands and jumps up and down while I propel her a little bit higher with each jump. We count to 20. If I want to mess with her head, I start jumping up and down and make her propel me higher and higher. Sometimes, if the dogs are out or if she’s not feeling particularly afraid of them that day, she’ll come into the living room and bounce on my balance ball. Eventually I’m done and she’s being called for dinner and then she threatens not to come the next day until I ask her why and then she says she will come after all.

 

Thanks to Tamandani’s obsession, Deborah now runs up and tackle hugs me whenever she sees me. She was calling me “azungu, azungu!” and I actually felt bad one time asking her what my name is (which she knew without having to think about it, raising the question of why she still called me azungu instead of Sika) and telling her than I am not “azungu, azungu.” Her face crumpled; I tried to lessen the blow by hugging her again. But I am so damn tired of being called azungu that I feel it’s a necessary boundary to set. Tadala also runs up to me, but she’s not as sure of me and so she usually stops up short just before touching me. She’s sweet too, and a little shy: she was the first kid in the neighbourhood to smile and wave without the ubiquitous “azungu, azungu” chant, and so she’s one of my favorites even though she hardly ever comes around to play with me.