Does your nickname fit?

I played soccer with Michael today who I’m dubbing Smiley. But with these kids, that’s like saying boy or girl because they all grin from ear to ear. Their dimples help distinguish them from each other. Michael has some good foot work for being eight, but he has more my tendency on the field- out run ‘em. He’ll circle around until he speeds by his opponent or outlasts him. Well, it worked out for him since he schooled me a time or two. And on top of it all, he’s wearing a long sleeve shirt, jeans, sneakers while I’m struggling away in my t-shirt and rolled up shorts. What’s a girl to do but SWEAT.

While this is probably story 56, the muggy weather we’re experiencing in North Carolina reminds of the time I visited SMU in Dallas for a college tour. Some southern belles were “perspirin’” (add your own cute drawl), but I was SWEATING! DRIPPING! Alas, I’m glad I can fully encompass the Mzungu characteristics: a white person who turns pink in the sun and sweats the whole way through.

Of course, such assumptions and stereotypes do not fit…usually ever. Except Smiley. That’s just the kids. ☺ But any other expectations about Africans or Westerners or Uncles or Christians will always be off both in good and bad ways. We all underestimate or overestimate in a critical way. And yet again, I’ve been reminded in the last week how I could miss the rare opportunities to really know someone by dismissing him/her by what I imagined. So I play soccer, cook meals, eat dinner, and ask questions in order to change stereotypes into a face of a unique friend. I’ll try to stick to that category: friend.