Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Baby Blue Testicles

The vervet monkey is as normal a monkey as they come. Its unassuming grey-brown fur contrasts beautifully with its black face, and its small stature and long tail allow for the stealth and agility that anyone would expect from a monkey. Despite its ordinary characteristics, this monkey has one specific feature that will catch every unsuspecting person by surprise: the males have baby-blue colored testicles.

(before you continue reading, please google “vervet monkey male” and actually see what i'm talking about)

The first time I was introduced to this unorthodox genitalia, I was so tickled by it I began asking all the guys I was with if they would prefer a fantastic pair of baby blues hanging between their legs if they had the choice. And then I started thinking (as I like to do), and I realized that I had a lot in common with these vervet monkeys.

As a white person (well, “white” for me) in rural Kenya, it is impossible not to be noticed. I often times feel like a wild animal-when little kids see me they get as excited as tourists would get if they saw an elephant. Most of the tourists that come to Kenya speak English, so the children assume it is the only language foreigners know. So when they see me, they begin screaming, “How are YOU??” from up to a hundred meters away.

Yet, sometimes when the little kids are standing by the road, I get the jump on them and greet them with a 'slang' Swahili greeting (the English equivalent to “what's up?”). Usually, I get dumbstruck faces in return: slowly turning heads and slightly opened mouths undoubtedly surprised that the foreigner speaks Swahili. I consider moments like this the metaphorical revealing of my baby blue testicles.

On top of this, I generally tend to surprise and confuse most of the locals in my words, actions, and simply my appearance. A while back, a drunk Kenyan man stumbled up to me and started asking me for money. Even after a couple of my curt refusals, his continual begging set me off. I am already heavily on guard for people asking me for things, and so I begin yelling at him in Swahili at regular conversation pace, “Why do you ask me for money? Because I am a white person, right? I don't have money, and I am not giving you anything. Go beg the people sitting there.” The Kenyans that were sitting next to me laughed, not only at the truth of my words but because this drunk man had just metaphorically been slapped in the face with my baby blue testicles.

One of my tasks as a Peace Corps Volunteer is to help my community develop ways to generate income and improve their village, and I have many project ideas that I want to first try on my own time before I share with others. A couple of these projects involve bottle-caps (to make art, checker games, and jewelry) and maize cobs (to make charcoal). I am often seen gathering these materials off the ground in the village, with curious Kenyans simply watching me. As a “rich, white person” it is improper, or at least unconventional, for me to gather such materials-it is a child's place to collect bottle-caps and a laborer's job to gather maize cobs. When people ask me what I am doing I gladly explain, but I truly enjoy the looks of bewilderment on their faces.

As for my appearance-even in America people don't know what ethnicity I am. I get Mexican, Filipino, Hawaiian, and some others. Here, the Kenyans are confused between “Mzungu” “China-man” or “Hindi from the coast.” In Mombasa, there are many Middle Eastern businessmen that live around, and if I am walking with my Kenyan counterpart I easily look like I am a local. If I am walking with a Mzungu Peace Corps friend, I am also a Mzungu, and if I am alone it is a grab-bag. One common misconception among the Kenyan people is that all Chinese people are experts in Kung-Fu (no doubt thanks to Jet Li). In the grocery store once, a Kenyan teenager that worked there asked me if I could teach him Kung-Fu. I chuckled to myself, and told him I would.

In all honesty, I get a secret satisfaction from other people's confusion. I thrive off of it. I am in my element when surprise is on my side. And if I had the choice to permanently alter my colors to match a vervet monkey I would have to answer with a resounding “Yes”-with a sneaky grin on my face.

Or I can paint my genitals and dress as a vervet monkey for the next Halloween.

3 comments:

  1. The Kenyans that were sitting next to me laughed, not only at the truth of my words but because this drunk man had just metaphorically been slapped in the face with my baby blue testicles.

    Louis, you're hilarious and clever. I love your blog.

    I am left, however, thinking more about the color of your testicles than I'd care to. When we go to Tsavo, I might not be able to look you in the eye. Pole kakangu.

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  2. Agree with the above. I love to read your blog and check for it frequently so as not to miss the most current one. I hope we never meet though. I'd hate to be shaking your hand and thinking about your testicles!

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  3. I have been to Africa and seen the scrotums of the Black-Faced Vervets. Now I'm thinking of yours. I think I prefer the metphor, but please don't take it "personally".
    Like the others, I enjoy and appreciate your blog. Thank you again.

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