Makgoa!

They "Hey Whitey" incident was the big kick off to a long string of reminders that I am a white person in Botswana, and therefore a part of a small and relatively secluded minority.

From what I've gathered, the white people in Botswana live mostly in wealthier areas of Gaborone and speak very little Setswana. They seem to have a tendency to stay away from the poorer areas unless they are people like us: volunteering for NGOs.

We learned from Thato and Karabo that the word for white people here is Makgoa (mahk-hoa, 'g' in Setswana is guttural like a German 'ch'--the best way to translate it is with an 'h'). Just one white person is a Lekgoa.

The 'kgoa' sound is used to indicate that Batswana didn't know where white people were coming from--they just knew they had boats. So they assumed white people were spit out of the ocean. It's interesting, however, that they do not refer to Afrikaaners as Makgoa.

We explained to Thato and Karabo that, in the United States, somebody would never go up to a group of African Americans and yell "black people!" Karabo especially, however thinks this is hilarious and will often shout "white people!" to get our attention or "black people!" to refer to himself and other Batswana.

We've encountered some interesting situations here, ranging from completely benign to highly irritating, thanks to the color of our skin. We are often treated differently, for better or worse, than Batswana.

People here often automatically speak English to us, even when we tried to speak Setswana to them. At the stores, I might greet the cashier with "Dumela mma" and get "Hello, how are you?" in return. The assumption seems to be that white people just don't speak Setswana.

When we do get beyond "Dumela" in a conversation, people are always surprised. Kids have especially remarkable reactions. They rarely see white people, let alone white people who will wave and sing the Setswana version of "Head, shoulders, knees, and toes" with them!

Mostly, we just get stared at a lot, because we obviously don't belong, and often we're treated very well--it's like we're guests of the entire country. However, there have been a few annoying things about standing out so much.

Just today, Chris and I got a taxi with Karabo to go to Riverwalk mall to cash Chris's traveler's cheques. When we got the taxi, which is supposed to be 18 Pula, the driver charged us 30 Pula (more than a cab would charge!) just because we were obviously foreign.

Also, teenage boys here--like a most teenage boys--like to make cat calls to girls. Because we stand out so much, we are especially targeted. The noises they make to girls are hissing noises (tssss tsssss...) and clicking noises that one would use to get a horse's attention. It's never a good feeling to feel like a horse! We've realized that it's best to just ignore it, but everytime it happens, it's more and more tempting to yell something back.

So far, this trip has made me much more aware of my so-called "race." Being white in the United States is seen as a kind of neutral state, and being another race is often framed as a deviation in another direction from that neutrality. Here, being white means living outside the norm and being constantly aware of how you look to other people.

I've confirmed with a few other people in the group that we'd like to just yell, "Makgoa!" every time we walk into a restaurant, mall, or store to ease the tension and acknowledge our whiteness.

...But I'm pretty sure that'd just make us stand out more.