Celebrity Status

I walk out the driveway of my compound (think: subdivision). Within five minutes, I’ve heard “Omujungu!” at least once. Although it may seem harmless, being called “White foreigner!” by your own community hurts. I’ve been living here for more than six months now, at my school for long enough that those who live near have seen me around. They know I stay at the college, and yet, I’m a celebrity.

I never wanted to be a celebrity, not really. When I was really young I wanted to grow up to be the next Darlene Zschech, but aspiring to be a world-renown worship leader is not aspiring for true fame. I never wanted to be on TV; I never wanted to be a pop artist; I never even wanted to be a best-selling author. As much as I love having people around me at all times, I never wanted to be in the spotlight. Even when I did perform, it was always in choir or band. A trio was as small of a group I was comfortable to perform with.

Joining the Peace Corps, I knew I was about to gain some celebrity status. I knew that I would be a novelty in my community, especially at first. I read an insane number of blogs before coming, and almost every blog has at least one post on this subject. Well, here’s mine. Although I knew I was bound to become some sort of a celebrity, I never expected it to be this intense. After all, I’m not that attractive anyway. I don’t get harassed in the US. Everywhere I go, “Omujungu!” is shouted behind me. Many times, men leer as I walk past, screaming lewd comments or outright saying “I love you!” or “I want to marry you!” One of my friends stateside offhandedly commented “So that’s what it’s like to be a ten.” I informed her that no, this is what it’s like to be a celebrity.

In America, we call this behavior “harassment.” In Uganda, they call it “funny.” White women are not the only ones who are harassed, not by far. Ugandan women are harassed in even worse, more subtle ways than white women. And yet, so many Ugandans say the same thing. “That funny man.” Maybe this is a language barrier issue. Maybe they’re using the word “funny” in a different context. But the laughs from the men and women nearby seem to imply otherwise.

It’s these comments that push my social anxiety through the roof. Coupled, of course, with the fact that I’m representing not only America but all white people around the world every time I step outside my college. At least that’s how those who make quick judgements and stereotypes see me. It’s these comments that prevent me from walking around outside my college. Even within my college, I feel more like a novelty than a part of staff. At least that novelty has more to do with the fact that, in many people’s eyes, I am a tech guru and an incredibly intelligent woman, and less to do with the fact that I’m white.

Not everyone is like this, and most days I can deal with the few and far between. Some days, though, this anxiety locks me inside my house, unable to even go up to the college except to teach and leave. I have passed on trips to see my host family, trips to town, even parties because I am afraid of…. I don’t even know. Harassment? Being the center of attention? Being asked questions like I used to love? Being laughed at because of how little Rutooro I know? Some combination of everything, most likely.  

So if you wouldn’t mind, keep my celebrity status in your prayers. Social anxiety is a particularly difficult thing for me, as extraverted as I am.