Marriage Proposals

As single, white females, the other journeygirls and I tend to get a lot of marriage proposals. Most of these proposals are made out of a desperate attempt to get rich quick...because most Africans believe that all Americans are made of money, which unfortunately, is not true.
We have had some very interesting encounters so far. One man offered me American money instead of cows (the preferred dowry in Dinkaland), to which I replied that I would rather have the cows. This was not a good response. I think some of the other team members have thought seriously about selling me for the beef.
But in all seriousness, we do get a lot of proposals. Just yesterday, we were sitting in a mini-bus in downtown Lusaka when a man approached Jennifer's window. He greeted her first, as is customary, and then immediately said "I would like to apply to marriage you." She, of course, turned him down gently.
My supervisor says I am worth at least 100 cows, and that he would not let me get married for any less than that. Others in Rumbek say that a white wife could get at least 250 cattle. That's a lot of beef...so let's just pray that the team doesn't become too desperate for meat.

Names, names, names

The Dinka people really struggle to pronounce some of the sounds we use in English. For instance, Dinka often mix up the 'f' and the 'p' sounds, as well as the 'r' and 'l' sounds. You might hear a Dinka man say, "Let us crap for Jesus!" from the pulpit of his church. Or you might hear a Dinka woman talk about the great "farty" that she attended the other night. Basically, any time a Dinka tries to speak English, you will frobably know immediately that they are not a native English speaker.
When introducing myself, I ran into a number of difficulties with my name. The Dinka have few words where a consonant is placed right next to an 'n' where the consonant has to be sounded. Thus, many of the Dinka struggle to pronounce my name correctly. If I am not very careful to introduce myself as "Whi-ta-ney," they will always call me "Whinny." And then most of them giggle, laugh, and point at me because I have such a funny sounding name.
I was able to receive a Dinka name as well. So many of my new friends were struggling with my real name that they thought it best that I receive a whole new name. They named me Mary Ayen, because I favor the gray milk cow...obviously.
However, I much prefer these names to the one I hear most often..."Kwashja!" This means person with the white skin. And of course, it is accompanied by much pointing and laughing.
Perhaps by the end of my term here, I will have found at least one Dinka who knows my real name!

Stories Galore

I decided that I will just have far too many stories over these next two years to write them all in newsletters or to wait until I get home to share. So...the third option! I have decided to start a blog. Basically, this will contain all the fun and quirky stories that don't make it to the newsletters but are still noteworthy. Of course, reading the blog does not exempt you from reading my updates! :) However, if you ever want to know more about life in Southern Sudan, feel free to check out the new blog!