The Sironka Massai Dance troupe, from Kenya, came to our school for a performance a couple of weeks ago.
After they lined up, Naso watched them intently. “Mom, where are all of the brown people?” he said as he scanned the crowd. I told him I was pretty sure they were all up front.
Some seriously high jumping going on.
Kenyan: Does anyone here speak Swahili?
Naso: Do I speak Swahili?
Me: You speak English.
Naso: Cool! What does English Sound like?
Later, . . . . .
Naso: What language is that guy speaking?
Me: English
Naso: Ooooh, can you tell me what he’s saying?
Oh, Naso . . . . . .
These guys were seriously cool. It made me miss South Africa, terribly.
When I motioned and told them Naso was from South Africa, they were so excited. They touched him all over, inspected his nose and ears and mouth and touched him. I think it was the first time someone has gotten too close to Naso’s bubble. Usually he is the one hugging, kissing and touching all over.
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