The other day I went down to the fruit and vegetable market by myself in the evening, as Emerson had hurt his leg and chose to stay with the neighbors. I needed some dry beans and rice, which are sold in big burlap bags with the tops rolled down slightly to show off the beauty of the produce. As I was looking in one shop, the shopkeeper came bounding up. He looked like he was perhaps Indian in descent, and more garrulous than the average Ugandan.
First of all, he showed me how wonderful his products were, and had me try to peanuts to verify that they were fresh and delicious, and told me about the different flours and meals. I told him that I couldn't buy a lot, because my family was very small and we didn't eat much. He assumed I was a student, which I would have thought was just flattery in another venue, but I think it is hard to guess ages for people of an unfamiliar race. I explained my actual situation, and he replied "oh, then you are already a married woman?" I confirmed that I was. I think that here, whether or not a woman is married is a more important demonstration of her maturity than her age, and that there was a subtle shift in his manner towards me. I think this is also why many people trying to get my attention call out "mommy!" or "baby mommy!" In American, that would be strange and disrespectful, but here it is a respectful acknowledgement of my status as a matron and a head of household.
After we had confirmed my marital status, he asked where I was from, and his face lit up when I told him America.
"In America they have dollars," he told me, and I agreed that that was our currency. "Many dollars," he corrected me. "All the Americans have many dollars, as many dollars as they want."
When I was younger, I was somewhat indignant that everyone thought I was rich just because I was American, but now I understand that even a lower-middle-class American really is rich by the standards of a country like this. So I am willing to acknowledge my status as a rich woman, but I try to spread a little bit of realism about our idealized country. "In America, people have many dollars, but it is because everything costs many, many dollars there," I offered. But he knew the solution to my economic problems:
"But you have Obama! Obama give you more dollars; Obama gives all the Americans dollars," he explained, proudly.
The Africans really like Obama. The subject usually comes up immediately when they find that I am American, and with great pride. And here I have some advice for anyone travelling to Africa who is not currently in agreement with and full of pride for our president: just pretend! First of all, it is absolutely useless to try and discuss any subtleties of politics with someone who believes that all Americans have as many dollars as they want, Americans get all the health care they need for free, and everyone goes to Disneyland approximately every month. (Okay, I'm guessing on the last one, but the other assumptions I have heard verbatim!) Secondly, one might notice the real point of pride, which is deeper than political: the president of the most powerful country in the world is not only Black like us, but his grandmother is from Kenya, and Kenya is the country right over that way, so near to us. This is a culture where tribal roots and belonging are the central aspect of identity, so Obama's origins here are more important than his politics.
Besides, wouldn't you like a president who gave everyone lots of dollars?
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