Tuesday September 16, 2008 9:57pm
Every nonwestern (non-White?) country has a term for the whites, usually a word the children scream as they run alongside your car or behind the bus. I have never been able to figure out if I should take offense to this or not. I always picture a bunch of white children running after a black person yelling ‘nigger.’ Of course, the historical context and implications are not there and I’ve come to see it is no comparison but I dislike it none the less. The word in Sousou is fote, in Lingala, mondele, in Wolof toubab. Actually, I learned that ‘toubab’ literally means ‘no worries’ as in a person who is always happy and has no worries. This is a supposed reference to our elevated and wealthy station in life. I might assume the other words have similar connotation but have heard them uttered in such a way as to express disdain or contempt as well.
So here I am mondele but I have managed to make some pleasant Congolese acquaintances despite that. The incident that spurred all of this occurred with the incredible power of class and status associated with mondele. It has been difficult for me to adjust to such strong social distinctions, though I am finding my way. Nabih, however, has discovered long before I how to implement his power. Sad to say, his days of apprentice gardener are over (at least in an official sense, we will be planting a garden of our own next Saturday and he is welcome and invited to dig in the dirt!) It was one day, a few weeks ago now, that he managed to convince someone of his dire need to see me. It was a school day and I had been off running errands or meeting in another room. He could not find me and apparently made his wishes so well known that he was led to the Administration building right to the superintendent herself. A three year old child! Amazing. Of course, I was feeling something other than amazement as she relayed this story to me. Kind as she is, it was punctuated with remarks that stated how impressive and socially intelligent Nabih is, to have managed such a feat. I had other adjectives in mind but smiled politely and agreed with her. Yes, certainly impressive and intelligent.
The positive aspect is that she managed to accomplish what I could not which is to say that Nabih has no longer been hanging around my classroom like a sad, lost puppy dog. The nanny, Mama Vero, is having a much easier time managing him and his willfulness.
We miss Nabih a bit but he still gets to the playground and occasionally plays with the other children. He is still wishing feoverently to go to school and I know he misses having friends his own age to play with. It will be here faster than I know it. He is dressing himself now and even doing his hair. He keeps asking for an earring (so far I’ve said no) and has managed to spend a night or two completely in his own bed.
I guess in many ways he reminds me of Mohamed, who also could not wait to go to school. It will come. Mohamed has asked if I could just teach fifth grade until he gets there so he can be in my class. That might be rushing things a bit. Of course, someone told Mohamed when he finishes his spelling book he will be in second grade. Ambition set in and his teacher actually had to keep the book at school. He completed several pages ahead and even slept with the book. I tried to explain to him that he couldn’t really get to second grad early but he is still determined to try. Just a coupla mondele, looking for the good life.
