Oh, Africa! I was accosted by one of our near neighbors as I walked by on my way to the clinic. He questioned my pace and then publically derided me for not having stopped to literally greet and shake hands with each of the thirty men loafing on the side of the road. I was informed that my general greeting to the group was offensive, and that by waving, I implied that the men were “lions or goats”. I tried to apologize and make amends, but the man was adamant and continued with his tirade. Aghh! Maybe I’m misinterpreting the situation, but I think he was relishing the opportunity to lecture an outsider. After seeing a Kenyan friend wave to a K’jong in the clinic without any adverse reaction, I questioned her about my encounter. I want to adjust to their culture and know I can’t expect them to know ours, but also have absolutely no desire to spend ten minutes greeting a group of strangers while I’m trying to reach a destination. She assured me that the man was just being difficult. She knows him too. One of the nurses came over to greet me and proceeded to tell me, in a very cheery voice, how fat I looked today. Thanks. I knew she meant it to be a complement, so wasn’t as offended as I would have been earlier this year. People here think so differently, and I’m only beginning to understand it. We’re quoted the mizungu price when we’re purchasing most items. The price is typically ridiculous, and though the Africans expect to be haggled with, if an unwary consumer happens to agree, then all the more reason for celebration. I equate this with robbery, but the Africans see it very differently – rich people are supposed to pay more than the poor. It’s just the way things are. (I’ll admit to having similar feelings about Kansas’ traffic tickets.) Once I understand their reasoning, I’m much better able to accept and adapt. The trouble is making it out. Slowly by slowly.