Getty Images"I bought some extra-safe Durex condoms, and when the opportunity presented itself, I didn’t hesitate to tear into one of those bad boys."As a long-term visitor in foreign countries throughout my 20s, I’ve been fortunate to meet many women. In South America, I lived with a beautiful Colombian woman for three years and, since moving to East Africa in 2009 -- first Uganda and now Rwanda -- I’ve met so many local women that, some weeks, it can prove difficult to have a night to myself.
But many mzungus (the term reserved for light-skinned foreigners in East Africa), whether on account of taste or remnant colonial attitudes that taint any sexual encounter as an exercise in exploitation or personal degradation, adhere to a basic protocol of keeping separate.
I don’t. In fact, in my pursuit of casual, romantic relationships, I’ll try to meet women just about anywhere: supermarkets, restaurants, the mechanic’s garage. Any outstanding taboo about financially stable foreigners approaching local women doesn’t concern me in the least. And if things ever do get awkward, a nice smile, a rudimentary grasp of the local language and a sense of humor can go a long way.
Nevertheless, there are certain uncomfortable issues to negotiate when dating locally. One of the most obvious is HIV. Although the virus’s prevalence varies dramatically -- from roughly a quarter of the population in Swaziland to 3% in Rwanda -- it’s far higher than anything we’ll encounter at home.
When I first arrived in Uganda, the 6% prevalence rate was quite distressing. But, unlike some of my fellow expats, I didn’t let it overwhelm me. Instead, I bought some extra-safe Durex condoms, and, when the opportunity presented itself, I didn’t hesitate to tear into one of those bad boys. I might have pulled out every 10 seconds to ensure that everything was still properly fastened, but I made it through just fine.
Many encounters later, I’m still fine. Yes, there has been an incident or two when a condom has broken and my mind has gone off spinning in uncomfortable directions for a couple weeks until I can get tested. But, for the most part, so long as you’re careful and avoid sex with needle users or truck drivers or prostitutes -- sectors of the population often most afflicted by the virus -- there is no need for excessive alarm.
The trickier dimension to negotiate is money. Although I’ve dated numerous girls who, on account of their family background, employment or character, would be offended at the prospect of charity, there are situations when the financial gap between a mzungu and a local is so wide that a monetary request or offer becomes inevitable. I’ve never paid for sex, but I have, depending on the nature of the relationship, pitched in for medication or rent, or, on one occasion, a water heater.
Such exchanges have, at times, created the impression among mzungus that all local girls are “concealed prostitutes,” as one Italian friend recently told me. “Even if there’s no money exchanged immediately, they’ll all ask for something eventually.” But such disparaging generalizations fail to appreciate a local culture that is oriented toward men providing materially for women. This doesn’t make the women prostitutes.
Having said that, there is no shortage of genuine prostitution in this part of the world either; scantily dressed women can be found congregating on certain streets and bars on a nightly basis. Often they’ll clearly verbalize their services, but as I learned during my first trip to Kigali, the Rwandan capital, sometimes the venue alone is expected to be sufficient warning.
I guess I should have known I was in a real seedy locale when an entourage of women in high heels and short skirts approached me as soon as I sat down at the bar. “Buy me tequila,” said one girl. “Come sit with me here,” said another. One woman, apparently unable to speak English or French, showed me a pre-written text message on her phone that advertised her services.
At some point I met Ali. She was a sweet university student, both conservative in dress and demeanor, and I quickly convinced myself that she was just a regular girl. We drank and talked and went home together. In the morning, when I tried to have sex with her again, she was hesitant. Next Page >>
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