"Oweboooooooooooooo!".....He couldn't POSSIBLY be talking to me!!

The other part that was so fun about visiting the Subsidized Health Care clinic that Family Care has just set up here, was talking & playing with the little community kids that run around here. How I've missed those areas where on the little "streets" cars, people, "stoves" (more like a big pot on some burning sticks) & chickens all share the road. In other words, this new clinic is in a poor part of town (you already guessed that???...Jee! You're smart!)
We had worked hard chasing accomodation & furniture for the doctor that we've just employed & is pretty new to Lagos....he's from out of town & is used to...well...shall we say, a "different way of doing things". The whole part-time-charity thing (for him--it's full-time for us...)& the "Just-do-it-for-Jesus" concepts are still a bit new to him. But we're working on it!
....Oh, but wait!! I'm veering off from my story (that sentence sounded like something out of a 'Reflections'...)...As I go in & out of the clinic, getting stuff from the car & going back in I see this little group of about 4 or 5 kiddie faces & one little 6 yr old grin that calls out, "Owebo!" with a twinge of sarcasm & a slight chuckle. I'm like "Did he just say that to MEEE!" The reason I'm so shocked is because Owebo is the Nigerian term for foreigner...well, roughly. It's basically used for any "white man". The reason this shocks me is because I'm NOOOOOOOOOOOT WHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITE!!!! They're on to me...they reckognize that I'm a foreigner.--Nothing is sacred anymore!
This was the beauty of Uganda!--Well...East Africa in general, really. Although no one could ever place where I was from, they generally thought I was African (at least half of the time). This meant that I could go around &...well, blend in.--I got the whole "Mzungu" thing--the Swahili "Owebo" equivalent--like, 3 or 4 times MAX in the whole 6 years I was in East Africa(slightly exaggarated, but hey). Not being a target for eye-stares/gawking, or hiked up prices, pick-pockets, what have you. (In case you missed my picture at the top of my page, I'm black!--Not Jet black...but..black, nonetheless!) This is the ideal of being a missionary: Being a foreigner in a foreign land, ministering to foreign people...yet being able to BLEND IN. I was enjoying it!
I guess I can kiss that goodbye now...no more getting "African prices" at the market, or "slipping by" unoticed, or getting walked right past by all the beggars who go straight up to the real Mzungu, or "Owebo". I hope I won't be hearing that word again for a while.....hmmmmm...let's see how that goes!--I'll keep you posted!

I really have GOT to get some pictures up here....sigh!!!!