Hypocrisy

I’m noticing a not-so-subtle hypocritical streak of late.  Sunday night I attended a surprise bridal shower for a Ugandan friend, and I wore a purple African top that my tailor made.  Yesterday I wore a fairly new dress from African fabric that my tailor also made.  I recently picked up my mwenda (cultural dress from western Uganda) that I will wear at the bride’s introduction on the 23rd.  At both the shower and chapel yesterday, my African wear made quite a splash; when I came home yesterday, Helen (my househelp) thanked me for being so smart.

Yet when I’m out and about, and I see another mzungu (white person) decked out in cultural wear, I generally think wow, he/she’s trying too hard.  When it’s my friends in their kitenge (African fabric), they look smart.  Mary Jane has beautiful African fabrics, and she looks great in them.  The Western men here don’t wear African fabrics as often as the women, but they look great too.  My friends and students tell me I look smart; one friend told me to put away my Western clothes and only wear the bitenge (plural).

Really, though.  How on earth can the Westerners at UCU be smart and snazzy in their bitenge, yet no other Westerner can be?  If people love me in my bitenge in my context, I bet others love the bazungu (plural) in their contexts.  Lord, soften my heart!

Side note about the mwenda – it’s lovely, with light ivory and fuchsia on the top, and black with fuchsia for the trim of the skirt.  Unfortunately, the top was constructed so that the ivory is next to my shoulders and neck, and since I am the fairest [palest] of God’s creatures, it completely washes out on me, and I’ve been laying out like a 15-year old, to try to get a tan.  It’s the rainy season; that is no easy feat.  I freaked out poor Helen yesterday with my chasing the sun and how my skin was “turning.”