My Fake Boyfriend Will Beat You Up!

It's no secret that I look a little different from your average Mozambican. For some reason that I have yet to fathom, some people here, especially men and children, think it's totally acceptable to randomly shout things at me when I'm walking around. Now, don't get me wrong, the vast majority of the population is incredibly kind, and they are genuinely curious about who I am and what I am doing here. But there's always that handful of people who just want to heckle me.

Top Things People Shout at Me on the Street

• Hey, Muzungu! (Chinynaja) or Hey, Branca! (Portuguese)
• Hello, Sister! ("ELLO, SEE-STA!")
• Good morning, Teacher! ("GOO-MOH-NEEN, TEE-SHA!")
• How are you? ("HAWAYU!")
• What is your name! ("WAH-TISS-YOH-NEHM?")
• TSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS! (Obnoxious hissing sound used to get attention and for cat-calling.)
• I love you! ("AY-LAF-YU!")
• You look like you work for Peace Corps! (Pronounced: "PISS-CORPSE")

OK, that last one only happened once. But it was unexpected and kind of funny. The rest of these I hear every couple of minutes anytime I leave the safehaven of my village.

Single white women especially get a lot of attention. Most of it is harmless, but sometimes find yourself in one of these conversations, like I did a few days ago:

MOZAMBICAN: Hey White, do you want to marry me?
ME: No, thank you.
MOZAMBICAN: Why not? I would make a great husband. And I would love to marry a White.
ME: I don't know you.
MOZAMBICAN: So you'll only marry another white person?
ME: No, but I don't marry complete strangers who only ask me because I'm white.
MOZAMBICAN: That's very shallow of you. It would be good for a pretty white girl like you to marry a  nice black Mozambican, like me.

At this point, I usually bust out the boyfriend-line.

ME: Oh, well, I'm sorry, but I have a boyfriend back in America. He is waiting for me, and he would be very angry if he knew you kept asking me to marry you.
MOZAMBICAN: You have a boyfriend? In America?
ME: Yes.
MOZAMBICAN: Well, that's OK, you need someone to tide you over until you go back. Two years is a long time.
ME: No, thank you.
MOZAMBICAN: Your boyfriend is probably sleeping around on the side while you're gone, so it's OK if you have a few of my children while you're here.
ME: No, my boyfriend is big and strong and very jealous. I have to go now or he will be angry.

Usually, they will stop asking at this point, or I just stop responding. The fake boyfriend is a great defense. And, thanks to Rachel, I even have a picture of us.

This is Tom. He is tall, strong, and jealous. He is coming to visit me soon and would be so very angry if he found out I had been flirting with any Mozambican men.

Snazzy, right? 100% Photoshopped! Did you notice Rice University in the background? Nice touch!

This guy's name actually is Tom. He's Tom Hiddleston, an English actor best known for his portrayal of Loki. His face was on Cherry Coke cans for a while. But there's no Cherry Coke here, and I highly doubt that the average Mozambican has seen Thor, the Avengers, or War Horse, so I can make stuff up about him to my hearts content.

His favorite color is orange. We met at university. He has three siblings. He is allergic to pineapple.

This is kind of fun!

I figure I can change up the facts every time I use him, customized for the particular situation and mood I'm in. I'll call it the Mix and Match Boyfriend. (Patent Pending)

Tom came in handy a few days ago, when I had a Major Creeper Incident. Here's what happened:

The Major Creeper Incident

I had returned from the city a few hours ago, and was lazing about on my bed, thinking that I should eventually start thinking about commencing to begin cooking dinner. From outside the window, I hear a noise, but, as there are always goats or children or stray dogs wandering around, I don't think much of it. Then I hear the tell-tale "Com licença!" that signals a visitor at the door. I go to the front door, and there's no one there. So I open the back door and there is a man.

"Hello," he says in English, his breath smelling of beer, "How are you?"

"Estou bem, obrigada." I say, as I have been trying to get in the habit of speaking Portuguese with the people in my village. I figure that this is probably one of my neighbors that I haven't met yet.

"Do you speak English? I don't speak Portuguese."

Um, what? Clearly not a neighbor. I ask who he is.

"I'm a truck driver from Zimbabwe. My truck broke down over there, and I'm stuck in this town tonight. I saw you get off the chapa earlier and I wondered what such a pretty white girl was doing in the middle of the Mozambican bush. So I followed you home to see where you live."

Creepy much!? I explain to him curtly that I'm an English teacher and I have a lot of work to finish.

"Oh, but I bought some spaghetti and some tuna. You should make dinner for me. I would love to have a beautiful white woman cook for me. I will stay here tonight."

MAJOR CREEPER ALERT! I tell him he can't stay here and he needs to go away right now.

"But you need some companionship! You are so beautiful and I can't imagine what it's like for you, living here amongst all these animals in this God-forsaken country."

By the way he said it, I don't think the "animals" he is referring to are the ducks and goats.

At this point, I'm really ticked off, and more than a little offended, and I tell him to get off of my property THIS INSTANT. He reluctantly wanders away, but I see him watching from afar for another half hour or so before leaving entirely.

Needless to say, I locked my doors VERY carefully that night. And I breathed a sigh of relief the next morning when his truck pulled out of our town.

It really sucks that people like this man exist. And it is unfortunate that so many people still treat women like this. I think I speak for a lot of women when I say I don't understand. It may seem "harmless" for a man to whistle at a woman as she walks down the street -- maybe he thinks he's paying her a compliment -- but it usually just gives her the creeps and makes her feel unsafe. I'm not actually sure which is better -- thinking that my creepy visitor was trying to harass me, or come to terms with the fact that he legitimately believed that, just because I am a woman I'm obligated to make him dinner -- and just because I'm white I will sleep with him.

These are the times when I have to close my eyes, breathe deeply, count to ten and remind myself that only a very small portion of the population is like that creep. On the whole, the Mozambicans I've interacted with are incredibly generous, friendly, open and inviting -- I'm not going to let a few bad apples (Zimbabwean or otherwise) taint that for me.

... but if that man ever comes back, I won't stop Poppy from mauling him. Just saying.