I can't tell who is more obsessed with whom...me or the Tanzanian kids.
It takes a while to notice this specific difference because so much here is different; and pointing out one difference seems...silly. But after a while it starts to dawn on you that a huge differences between the US and TZ is the number of children.
Most people I know in my village still make a living from farming. Even the teachers here all have farms on the school property. Two kids is almost unreasonably small (not nearly enough to help with a farm) and so there are kids everywhere and they do the absolute funniest, cutest and weirdest things you can imagine. Some of the village kids, the young ones who have never seen a white person before, burst into tears when they see me. This is my least favorite. Their mothers mostly think this is hilarious and I guess I understand that it is a little funny. But, secretly, it actually does hurt my feelings.
My next-door neighbor Upendo's littlest Derek (he's one year old) was like this at first; but now we're good friends. Upendo lets me carry him on my back in a sling. Derek has the nicest smile and he loves the game "this little piggie" even if he doesn't speak Kiswahili yet, let alone English. I'm still working on my second master Robert's kid Grayson. He'll come close to me now and he doesn't scream. When he's in a good mood he'll crawl towards me and even let me touch his hands; but he won't let me pick him up. The older village kids stare at me as I walk by and shout "Mzungu! Mzungu! Mzungu!" It translates as "European" but it really just means 'white person'. If I don't respond they get together in a group and chant this at me...which can get surreal.
When we were in training I was walking with my friend Sarah. When some kids chanted "Mzungu!" at us she turned around and haughtily corrected them, saying we were "Wazungu," which means more than one white person instead of just a single white person. She is pretty much famous in my host family for this.
Tanzanian children are, as far as I can tell, the cutest kids in the world. Maybe it's because kids back home didn't pay much attention to me, but I find that I am much more interested in kids here than I ever was in the US. I smile at them; I ask them questions until they run away; I see how close I can get to them without them bursting into tears; and I coo at them in Kiswahili. Kids in the US don't stare and don't point, don't ask rude questions or shout "how are you teacher?" so quickly it sounds like one word or scream in joy and fear when you look at them.
I'm never going to like American kids after this...I've gotten used to being the most exciting things children have seen all day. I'm spoiled rotten.
Also, it should be mentioned: kids here are allowed to ride the motorcycles when they're old enough to hold on (like three years old) and I have to wear a helmet when I ride a bike. All I'm saying is that anyone who tells you that there are rules in Tanzania is lying.
