Hissing and Kissing

Hissing and Kissing

As I walk through Congo I constantly hear hissing and kissing noises. The hissing sound is a way to get someone’s attention used in many parts of Africa. They hiss at you like a snake and you are supposed to turn around and go talk to the hisser. Hundreds of people hiss at me and there is simply no way I could talk to them all. They are curious about the strange white girl who lives among them. Of course in Congo they are more curious about how much money they can convince me to give them. So if I acknowledged their hissing it would be this everyday conversation
“Muzungu unipe cent francs” (white person give me 100 francs)
“apana” (no)
“Ju ya nini?” (why?) as if they are flabbergasted I turned them down.
To which I don’t respond as it needs no explanation to me.
To which they respond by following me and asking me 100 questions half of which I understand.
And then I ask them to please stop bothering me
to which they respond “no I’m not bothering you.”
That one really gets me. But eventually ignoring them works either that or I enter a shop or stop to talk to a friend and they get bored and leave me alone.

So I ignore all hissing sounds. My friends in Zambia know this and instead use my name. In Congo my name is big problem. I discovered this problem in college when I became friends with a guy from Mauritius named Kevin. He laughed when I old him my name and never used it. We were friends for 4 years and he never called me Sheri. It was always hey you, her, Zambia, Jones, or just pointing at me. I didn’t care because he told me my name means Sweetheart. So I hear my name constantly. Often by half drunk men or daydreaming school boys trying to get me to marry them as they yell out “Cherie, ma cherie!” So I’ve worked hard with my friends here to try to pronounce it in a more American way so I will know the difference. It usually comes out like Shayreen but at least I know they know me.

Which leads me to the kissing noises. Again this has been a common experience for me in many parts of Africa. As I walk by men make kissing noises. How they expect me to respond to that I have no idea because I always just ignore it.

So everyday as I walk around I hear hissing and kissing. The difference in Congo is that I’ve never lived in such a large city before in Africa so I get it more here. The other difference is the persistency from the youngest to the oldest to follow me around asking ridiculous questions I only half understand and not begging for money but demanding it. I find it funny hopefully some of you do too.