Madam, where are you going?

2^nd August

Madam, where are you going?  Madam, what are you doing?

Any indication that I am leaving my house elicits the question regarding my destination and / or my intent.

While I recognize that this is a conversation opener, there are some times when it takes all my effort not to reply sarcastically or even rudely.  One of these was as I was walking along the village road, carrying 2 buckets, on the sixth day of no running water to most of the houses.  My restraint in replying by asking the child where she thought I might be going, and why, was remarkable. 

Today was almost as good;  I was walking down the few steps to one of the shops and one young man asked where I was going.  Again, much restraint, and I politely replied that I was coming to this shop.  He then asked if I was intending to purchase vegetables (not quite all those words, more like “shopping for vegetables?”) and I asked, in surprise, if there were vegetables available:  this is not a really common occurrence.  “Just onions”, was the reply.  I just bit my tongue.

I guess it is a small village thing and a need to know what everyone is doing, and possibly because I am a foreigner living in a village that has not had much experience of that, and perhaps they think I am going to do something really unusual,  but I do sometimes get quizzed in detail. 

The other day I was waiting near the school gate for my ride to Tshencarla to visit the doctor at their BHU (basic health unit; Kheni has a BHU but has only trained health workers, not a doctor) and the questions from my colleagues, the students and those villagers who can speak some English were quite probing.  It started with “Madam, what are you doing?”  I resisted the temptation to say that I was standing in the shade of a tree and trying to prevent a number of very mangy dogs, which I am sure are laden with fleas, from coming too close.  Instead I replied that I was waiting for Madam Zangmo’s husband, who was taking me to Tshencarla.  Robbed of their second question, I was then treated to the third question, “Why”.  For some, there was sufficient discretion to not ask further when I said I wanted to see the doctor at the BHU, but not for all.  For most of my colleagues, providing further information that I wanted to ask him about a reaction to an insect bite was sufficient,  most of the staff know I am susceptible to insect bites and react badly to them.  I suppose that finding out that I want to see a doctor might elicit their concerns that I am unwell

I can understand the question “where are you going”  if I have on my walking boots and backpack and am heading out of the village, but on a school day when I am wearing my kira …. Or after school when I am carrying my shopping bag…..  As I said earlier, it’s a conversation opener, but sometimes it feels a little like an inquisition.