Muno Muno!

Every day on my 30 minute walk to school, I attract a lot of attention.  Most people just want to say hello- I get a feeling that they just want to practice their English.  Often very young children will wave from a distance and chant, “Bye! Bye! Bye! Bye!” It happened several times before I understood their accent and also understood that they were trying to greet me. 

I have been trying to adjust to a culture that greets strangers so enthusiastically.  I am much more accustomed to walking past everyone without saying anything.  As time goes on, I try to practice my Acholi- when people say “hello!”  I sometimes respond with Apwoyo or Itye maber?  Meaning hello or how are you?  Responses vary- the younger school children and older adults respond in Acholi, especially if I initiate the interaction.  Older children and young adults often think my response is hilarious, and their laughter follows me as I walk on.  I don’t think they’re laughing at me, I think they just think it’s funny to see a white person (trying to) speak Acholi, and they just laugh more here.

I also have to decide whether every hello or call of muno! (Acholi for white person, often chanted repeatedly by excited children) is friendly, curious, excited, or more derogatory.  Everyone I have asked says that both muno and mzungu (Swahili for white person) just mean white people, with no negative connotation, but usually at least once on my walk I hear a call of “Hey Mzungu!”  that sounds more sarcastic or teasing than others. 

On my third or fourth day walking to school, I responded to everyone that greeted me, and even greeted some people in Acholi first- and they all smiled and responded.  It felt wonderful to interact comfortably, and to finally know some of the social etiquette without too much thought on my part.  I had grown. Then one 5 year old school girl reached out to shake my hand and said hello.  I responded, and she asked me to give her money.  I said no and kept walking, but her question ruined the good vibes that I had accumulated thus far.

There is a very common perception that munos have a lot of money, with pretty good reason.  Most people who distributed aid during the conflict were white, and we have enough money to travel here.  People have a pretty idealized conception of America (have you even heard of someone not eating, not because they do not want to, but because they do not have food?  Have you ever met someone that did not have the money to finish school?).  And a dollar can buy so much more here than it can at home (I paid $1.25 for a motorcycle taxi across town, $.50 for two avocados bigger than both of my fists, and lunch at a that locals go to is under $2) that travellers often spend what Ugandans consider to be a lot of money without hesitation. 

I think Acholi culture is just more honest and direct in a lot of ways, and many munos might just give people money or whatever food they ask for.   I don’t, and I haven’t thought much about it, but mostly I feel the same about it here as I do in America- I don’t mind giving people things that I don’t want/need, especially if I have a relationship with them, but I’m not going to give people things on the street.  Me handing out money isn’t going to change the huge wealth imbalance between my country and theirs- it will only further the perception that munos have a lot of money.

To some people, I am quickly becoming more than an anonymous muno.  When my 3 year old host brother called me muno, my host mother said very emphatically, “Ah, ah! Her name is NOT muno.  Her name is Emily.”  The people that live near my school have learned in the last week that we are learning Acholi, so instead of saying hello or calling us muno, they now ask us in Acholi how the day is or where we are going.  However, to most Acholi, I will forever be muno.  If I can convince my host family that I do not know every white person in Gulu (there are quite a few because of aid organizations and research) and that they are not “my friend,” I will be happy.