What's in a Name?

[18/2/2011]

You hear it everywhere you go, but mostly in the villages. Kids, and sometimes adults, yell out “Mzungu, how are you?” If you're feeling especially patient you turn to the person greeting you and kindly explain (in whichever language you choose) that your name is not mzungu, it is (fill in the blank here). And other times, when this is the 38^th time today you've been called mzungu  in one day, you ignore the person hoping they get the message.

Depending on the person you ask, and the intention of the greeting, the word mzungu has many different meanings. I've heard it translated to:

• white person

• person on the move

• ghost

• educated one

• traveler

• person with riches
  

And the stereotypes go on....

I have a friend who recently returned from a trip to China where he was also bombarded by their version of mzungu: Wa lai. I am told this is literally translated to “white devil” but it is used as “foreigner”. He shared the embarrassment, and I shared his pain...for a second. Then I got to thinking about all the countries that have a similar term to mzungu. It must be any country where white men have come, thrown around money, and enforced ideas about how they do things “better”. Most people working in developing countries (and travelers) are so offended by this term because that's the exact concept we're working to change. But instead of erasing history maybe we should embrace it and try to learn about how to improve on our past mistakes.

I've seen my fellow volunteers move from utter disbelief, to sheer annoyance, to finally acceptance whenever they are greeted with mzungu. This succession of emotions comes from fully understanding culture in Kenya, and why every “mzungu”  thrown out there isn't necessarily an intent to hurt.

Names, birthdays, anniversaries...anything that we Americans use to identify ourselves with are of little importance to Kenyans. Luo names are seemingly unoriginal here, usually describing the time of day you were born and sometimes whether it was rainy season or not. Also there are few Christian (first) names that have been adapted into the society. So often you'll end up with a class that has three “Odhiambo's”, two of which are “Maurice”. There is little effort taken in spelling these names correctly and even keeping them all (sometimes four names) in order. It's not that Kenyans are illiterate, or that they care so little about themselves that they can't properly maintain a name. It's that it's just a name, after all.

This may seem counter-intuitive to Americans who crave individuality as much as oxygen. But in Kenya anything (tattoo, hair, name, religious views, way of thought) “different” can set you up for shame. So in a culture where you try your hardest to live like your neighbor the naming system reflects it.

People here do take pride in what they do. Almost every profession has a title accompanying it, which seems much more acceptable than calling someone by their given name. Luo's call a tailor “fundi”, my watchman is known as “Soldier”, my boss is “Coordinator”, and a teacher is given the Kiswahili name “Mwalimu”. Following the tradition, women here are given the name of their first-born son. I have a friend whose son is named after his grandfather. Old men are usually called minzee in Dholuo, so the son was subsequently nicknamed minzee. So if you follow me in this crazy twist of a story, when you call out to my friend all you have to yell is “'Zee!”, for short. Makes total sense, right? It took me about two months to unravel that puzzle.

So when I first got to Kenya and people began calling me mzungu I went through all the stages myself: Utter disbelief of the racism. Sheer annoyance with the multitude of mzungu  greetings from from around. And then finally acceptance that I'm not here to change history, but I would like to teach a little about my culture. And in America, we call each other by our fist names.

Nyar Kakelo signing-off