Pygmy Peter. It was a name that had followed you since your first day of Middleschool, becoming a mocking chant in Highschool, and only surviving due to your college having one of your fellow alumni. It'd all started after you presented about the Pygmy of Africa in class, in a way to make yourself feel better - being incredibly tiny wasn't just a you problem, there were others like you! Ignoring the insults, the sheer bullying, you fell in love with Africa after that.
African languages were your forte, with your lack of height and subsequent lack of social interaction allowing you time to engross yourself with the languages of your favorite continent. North Africa, with it's different Afro-Asiatic languages; the languages which made up the Niger-Congo family and Nilo-Saharan. You had mastered some, were working on others, and all together were excited to finally live on the continent.
You sat on your long, long flight to Africa. The true first question wasn't how your flight was going, it was something much simpler - where were you going?
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