I’ve made a move from Stonetown to a beach resort in Zanzibar.  I left the resort this morning to buy water at a small shop down the street for about 35 cents less than the cost of bottled water at the resort.  (If you thought I was cheap before, watch out.  You have no idea what Africa’s done to my sense of money.)  As the man who sold me the water handed me my change, he said, “I like your color.”  

I thought he was talking about my swimsuit, which is a fun shade of blue.  “My suit?  Thanks!”  This made me feel better about the suit because it’s this tankini that I bought especially for Africa because it covers a lot of skin and it’s pretty conservative here in terms of flesh women should bare.  But I realized earlier in the afternoon that the billowy midriff section actually doesn’t mean that it’s for conservative people, it means that it’s for pregnant people.  I’m not sure how I never noticed this fetus feature before but now it’s all I think about when I have the suit on…I could at least get to seven months before the suit got tight.  

“No, no.  You.  YOUR color.”  He pointed at me as he said this.  

I thought for a second.  “Wait.  My skin?”  He nodded.  “Because it’s so pale?” 

“Yes.  I see many, many tourists.  None of them have your white, white color.”  And then he started laughing.  Please note that despite a daily SPF defense, I am currently the tannest I’ve ever been in my whole life.