When the Ugandan children began looking at me and giggling I got very offended and became self-conscious, wondering what they were laughing at. How rude;)
And seeing as how uncomfortable these children were making me feel, I would NEVER sit down in the middle of them and begin giggling along with them.
No way, not me.
For starters, the ground is way too dirty and there are far too many diseases that could be caught.
And since I definitely didn't just sit down in the middle of them, they wouldn't have followed my lead sitting almost on top of me and pointing and laughing.
Since this never happened I surely didn't pick up on their cues and realize that they were laughing at my skin color and how different it was.
After not realizing this, I would never hold my arms out and begin placing their little fingers on my freckles and veins. That would be entirely too weird and my personal bubble is much too small for that!
I'd never allow that, not me!
I'd certainly never allow it to get as far as allowing dozens of little Ugandan children then explore the hair on my arms, freckles, fingernails, toenails, veins, knees and bottoms of my feet. I mean, that's just weird! I could just never go for that!
Nope, not me!
But if it were to happen, I'm sure they would love every minute of it and want to just sit there for over 20 minutes and laugh and giggle with me as we point out the amazing differences that God created between us.
2 comments:
Stop bragging, Tasha! :-P
When I was in Kenya, the children loved to touch you skin because of the hair on it. I guess they didn't have hair on their arms. Never thought much about it. But I've been in that same situation. They called us mozingos (sp?) Swahili for white man. They were always laughing at us. But what a wonderful way to bond with them when you let them touch your skin and see how different but alike we are.
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