My inner dialogue gets so out of whack, so introverted that sometimes I lose track of who I am. I have different names depending on my location, languages float, mix, and fall out of my head. I remember who I was in California, I can remember who I was in France, but here in Africa who I think I am is not so. Yesterday I took a picture with my host family and when I checked the shot I saw how white and bizare I look. How ugly I must look to them. Yet I am desirable to them if only for the money I represent. Men want to marry me. My brother told me he was going to go online and meet and American and ask them for help. He said that the American would send him money. I asked him why he thought that. He said that is what white people do. I tried to explain the concept of self-help and defeatism, but he was lost. This is a generation a people raised with the idea that the only way anything can be done is with the outside help of rich people. All the village has to do is put out their hand and voila, there is the cash. I am here as an aid worker and I can't stand the culture of aid giving.
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