Friday on the way back from the field we stopped to have a coke at a roadside stand; as usual, we were soon surrounded by curious onlookers, mostly children, who came to check out the Muzungus. One little boy asked us our names and how we were (in English), we answered (in English) and then he walked away saying “I don’t speak Muzungu.” That’s funny, we don’t either! Muzungu isn’t a language, but we knew what he meant regardless.
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