Because I will feel a little bit racist saying ‘white people’ over and over again, I am going to make myself feel better by referring to these lovely visitors in our continent as … let’s go with WP.
So. There’s a correlation between WP and air conditioners that I think we need to study for the survival of Africans like myself.
These people, they play with ice
I understand that sometimes it gets hot and stuffy and you need an air conditioner. But in the Africa I live in, those circumstances are few and far in between. But when it comes to WP, it doesn’t matter if the heat melts skin, is moderately comfortable or non-existent. WP will switch those human fridges on all the time. I know this from experience.
I attended a workshop once in a closed intimate setting, and noticed two huge air conditioners on either side of the room.
They were white. And true to their hue, they switched the torture machines on. The agonies I endured that day! Suffice it to know that on the second day, every Ugandan came with a jacket and a scarf. And even then, we occasionally had to step out for ten minutes to get our shivering under control. I eventually ventured forth tremulously to ask one of the speakers if we really needed the conditioners?
“Oh, I’m from Europe”, he laughed. “I feel like I’m at home. It’s only a little nippy!” Miserably resigned, I trudged back to my seat.
I remembered this incident when I was doing some work with another organization outdoors. It was late at night, and the threat of rain was imminent. Powerful gusts of wind forced us to run for the nearest vehicles to drive back to the town.
I sighed in pleasure as I entered the first car and enjoyed the warmth within. Until I heard the distinct whoosh of an air conditioner. What kind of a-?!
Ah. The driver was a WP.
A wave of anguish washed over me. It was 9.00pm. It was drizzling and windy. And cold. Why the blazes did we need an air conditioner?! After half an hour’s ride (shivering the whole way), I asked the driver if he didn’t mind switching off the air conditioner for the remaining half hour of the journey. Just a half hour, I begged.
“No problem!” he said cheerfully. He switched it off and then lowered all the windows in the car. I whimpered as natural gusts of wind wafted in abundantly.
“We need fresh air, you know!”