Rethinking midget

I'd never met a midget before. Whenever I said the word 'midget' in front my friends, Blair and Harmony, they'd always correct me. "Little people," they'd say. I'd always secretly roll my eyes, thinking that being politically correct didn't apply to smaller people. It's just for racism, sexism and homophobia, I'd think. Besides, I liked saying the word midget. It was funny to me.

I'd be at Harmony's, recovering on her couch from a night of partying the night before. She'd flick through more than 100 channels and settle on The Learning Channel's, "Little People in a Big World". I'd wish she'd move on. Anywhere else would suffice. Even golf. Little people were of no interest to me.

Blair was also fascinated by the show and I'd sit through half an hour of it at her house, bored out of my brain. I thought the whole thing was a bit strange. Loving little people like that.

But I didn't dare say anything. Not because I cared about their reactions, but because I didn't want to be different. I should be intrigued too. Shouldn't I?

My first real life encounter with a 'little person' was a few weeks ago. I saw one pushing a wheelbarrow. I thought it was hilarious. My friend Sara always says, "Janey would laugh at scrambled eggs." Regardless, it was funny. There are few things that amuse me here so when one comes, I ride with it.

This morning I was preparing my egg salad sandwich for breakfast. Mr. Tetay was boiling two eggs for me. I chopped onions while I waited. Mr. Tetay walked over, eggless.

"Have you ever seen someone like him before? That big man?" he said pointing, then flexing his muscles.

I peered around the corner, following Mr. Tetay's eyes. I couldn't see a man. Just a bunch of women huddled around a massive cauldron, like Shakespeare's witches.

"Daniel!!" Mr. Tetay shouted.

And there he was. The man poked his head out behind one of the women, as if he had been hiding under her colourful skirt the whole time.

Mr. Tetay laughed. "Come here," he said.

As Daniel walked over, Mr. Tetay asked, "Do you have people like this in your country?"
"Yes," I smiled.
"Oh, I thought maybe you had never seen one before."

I was relieved that Daniel was still about 10 feet away, unable to hear Mr. Tetay mocking his height.

It was the same man I had seen pushing the wheelbarrow. But this time he was smiling.

When he was within reach, I stretched out my hand.
"Hello," I said. "I'm Janey."
"I am Daniel." he replied, shaking my hand firmly, finishing it off with a traditional West African snap of our middle fingers.
"I've seen you before, with a wheelbarrow."
"Ah yes, I work here in the compound," he said proudly.
"Nice to meet you," I said.
"You too," he replied with a toothy grin.

I returned to my onions. And smiled. My first midget meeting.

Maybe midget wasn't appropriate anymore. But neither is 'little people' I thought. I wouldn't want to be referred to as big foot because my feet are size 11.

Daniel is a man. Who happens to come up to my mid thigh.