Mundu!
A short walk home is an adventure. After getting side-tracked by my co-worker, Monica, who led me to a secondary school football game, I headed home along the road east. The asphalt on both sides was crowded with pedestrians and bikers, who made way when the cars and trucks pushed through. A lorry filled with 30 or 40 people came barreling down the hill towards me. A young man standing near the front spotted me and began chanting, "Mundu! Mundu!" and the whole load of people joined in, pointing and chanting. Was I about to be killed? I wasn't sure if I should wave, say hello, or look at the ground. I smiled nervously and the truck careened on by. Soon afterwards, Janet, the cook at my house and at the office, came along from the opposite direction. After greeting her, I asked her what they had meant by "mundu." Ah, she said, "that's just 'white man'! They are joyful to see you here!" I'm not sure if I believed her.