"Helloschoolpen"

This is how some of the kids in Hampi greeted us, as if these three words were actually one. And oftentimes they’d say it and not even wait for a response, perhaps because they didn’t know the meaning of what they were requesting. And I say “requesting” loosely. Requesting might entail a “please” or at least an obligatory introduction – “Hello, how are you?” and then, “School pen?”

It’s one of those things that grates on my nerves. Just like in Tanzania. When Scott and I would walk around the villages, we’d constantly hear, “Give me my money.” Not simply, “Give me money,” but, “Give me my money.”And while it bothers me, I recognize I’m part of the problem just by being a foreigner in their hometown. It’s not the Hampi kids’ fault that tourists have invaded their villages, brought in foreign money, and freely or not so freely given it away.

In Hampi, if a request for a school pen was not met then they’d ask for chocolate. If no chocolate, then one rupee. It was one thing if the child was clearly not in school and trying to sell postcards, but I hated to see a school kid (a child in uniform with a schoolbag on) attempt the same. 

I remember when Isdori, one of our bright students in Tanzania, told us that when he was young, he used to ask the same thing of foreigners – “Give me my money.” Scott and I were surprised when we heard this because Isdori is, now, so hip and modern. When we asked why he did that, he shrugged, said something to the affect of, “Just because. All the other kids were saying it.”