I have been called many things since I arrived in Malawi, and I think each reveals something about the culture or an integral aspect of my experience here.
Madam: this is my title at school. All female teachers are Madam and the male teachers Sir.
Aunty/Mama: these is a respectful form of address. Usually, they have been applied to me by women at markets who are trying to shout over one another that their goods are the best and I should by from them. But also by older people and some of the workers around the school grounds at the end of the indispensable greeting when you see someone. "Ajimwiche Mama?"
Azungu: this literally means "foreigners." Plural shows respect, but I think it is more habitual. I don't think anyone ever gets called "zungu." All ages of children either call out in greeting, "Azungu bo!" Or they run and tell their parents, "azungu" and point. The little children, between two and four, say it with awe and put stress on and lengthen the "zu" sound. Sometimes I wonder if I'm the first white person they've seen. At one of Marina's centers, a little child just sat and felt my skin and hair. On another occasion, I was out walking pretty far from Namwera center, a toddler saw me, looked wide eyed for half a second, then burst into tears and walk crawled across the field to his mom. The women working in the field and I all laughed.
My friend: men (women only rarely try to engage me in conversation) striking up conversations. Usually followed by, "where are you going?" Or "where are you from?" When they learn that I am teaching here in Namwera, the older men usually nod and say that is good. The younger men usually seem surprised, "but someone like you here?" The surprise seems real, like "why would someone choose to come here?" Another early question is typically, "where is your husband/are you married?" The assumption that I am married, but my husband is elsewhere seems more common. I thought this was odd (the townspeople know that I am here by myself). If I were married, my husband would be with me. I've since learned that many families here are separated. The wife is here and the husband works in South Africa and sends money back, at least he does in ideal situations.
When I say that I am not married, the next question almost always is, "so you're here to find a husband?" There is no concept of staying single here. I usually respond with some parahrase of 1 Cor 7:34.
My wife: usually from young men who are walking with their friends. I think the best one was "My wife, I have been waiting for you. I am going to marry an American." I think about saying something snarky like, "I'm old enought to be your mother." ehich is almost true, especially given when girls start having babies in Malawi, but I never quite have the guts, so I just keep walking and ignore them.
Sister/Asisteri: I get the impression this is used as a common form of address for a woman. The little ones at Alleluia call me this as well, maybe because I arrive with Sr. Ornela.
Marina: I get called this in the environs of Namwera where Marina is well known. I am not sure if the children who call out, "Marina, bo!" really can't tell me apart from Marina or if they think "Marina" is the form of address for all white women. I've been told that to people here all white people look the same, but I find that hard to believe as I weigh twice what Marina does and our hair is different length and colors. Regardless, it feels rather an honor to be at all confused with her.
And my favorite. . .
Merica: I only get called this on one particular stretch of road where I go walking. Early on, in an attempt to correct some children who called me Marina, I stopped and said, "Marina ali Italian. Ndili American." "Marina is Italian; I am American." The next day I was out walking and as I approached the little children ran out, "Merica, bo!"
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