[Monday, 19-1-09]
We had french fries (chips) for dinner today! We also had sausage and the left over rice that Ashley couldn’t finish. Oh and then I had coffee cake (Barbie cake or swirl cake) for dessert! It was amazing. We got it from the canteen (the guild) on campus. It was so amazing. Kristen was having a kind of rough afternoon because of doing laundry and feeling sick and not being able to find her class.
OK so I never finished that entry because of I don’t remember what. I think it was hot and I didn’t feel like typing anymore. That’s been a really big struggle for me: journaling in the heat.
Ok so my homestay this weekend, well here goes.
So Saturday morning I made up an awesome mocha latte. Yes, it’s true, Ugandan style but still fabulous. Kristen calls me a barista! But really I just bought milk powder (Nido), Nescafe (instant coffee), and drinking chocolate, which I mix together in my cheesy Ugandan mug that says “Love” and has a big rose. It is truly hideous but I love it. And I’m obsessed with the mocha drink. It literally makes me so happy. Perhaps the caffeine has something to do with it… they’re really afraid of coffee here –they think it is disastrous to your health. Telling someone that you drink coffee everyday is like being an American chain smoker. What they think about the UCU carb-only diet remains to be seen.
But anyways, moving past the awesome start to my day and into the essentials. I was all psyched up waiting for the van and driving over to our new “home,” and I will admit, it MAY have had something to do with the caffeine. Regardless, we were the first ones dropped off, because we live the farthest away from UCU, or we’re tied for the farthest, or something. By we I mean myself and Christine, a sophomore Intercultural studies major (perfect, right?) from Biola University in AZ who also being hosted by the Bayine family (pronounced BUY-yee- nay). Our host mother (hereafter referred to as simply mother) greeted us loudly and enthusiastically, a state which I have gathered she rarely deviates from. She was barefoot and recovering from something she refused to call food poisoning, though that’s probably what it was. Resulting from the illness she barely moved all of Saturday, but she managed to be sluggish in a very vibrant way. It consisted mostly of her lying on a grass mat on our back “porch” (more like a stoop or a really extended step) kindly interrogating Christine and me about our families, our time in Uganda, our food habits, our clothes, our size, our figures, our studies, etc.
The Ugandan way of conversing, with the older generation at least, seems to entail a very loud, assertive, and sometimes affronting question posed by the elder, to be answered meekly and in as few words as possible by the younger. Whatever answer is given is almost certainly to be greeted with a huge burst of laughter and various comments to the family made in rapid Luganda (their native tongue). Needless to say, I found this stressful and a bit disconcerting, though there are worse responses than laughter to be had. For example, sometimes our father asks a question of us then midway through the answer says, “Mmmm” and wanders off. Not in a senial way, just disinterested.
I hope you know I write all this a bit tongue in cheek, as it was as I describe but you are receiving my comments two days after the fact. I was overwhelmed most of Saturday, so things came off as extreme and very different. Now I can look back and see them more clearly and laugh about my discomfort a bit, as I hope you’re feeling free to do. I’d hate for you to read this and pity me at all, because really I’m very grateful for the experience and most of the time I’m laughing inside, anyways. The joy of the Lord is great!
So. Saturday afternoon we also met the hordes of children that belong to the families renting quarters from my family. And belong is a very loose term, believe me. The word “family” doesn’t quite mean the same thing in Uganda as it does in the states –it’s like when we say “orange” we usually mean just the one kind of Florida orange that we get at the grocery store. When they say “orange” they mean the regular kind, Clementines, grapefruits, nectarines, and the occasional apricot thrown in for good measure.
So these citrusy children introduced themselves Saturday and have been unwilling to be out of our presence since. For some, their favorite game is “Luganda lessons” in which Christine and I are drilled mercilessly in the Luganda translation of barnyard animals, foodstuffs, items of clothing, and endless body parts. Basically anything in sight is fair game, and failure to provide the right translation is relentlessly greeted with a demand to repeat after these little tyrants as they very slowly pronounce each syllable of the Lugandan word in their bubbling baby voices.
Other games include hand claaping games that are reputedly in English, but Christine and I have yet to decipher the entirety of any one rhyme. One includes “Ice cream bada bada with a bada ba on TOP,” and another “Big boy –clap clap clap –another girl –clap clap clap –burble burble chirp and a slur murmur shout!” They all end with the child saying “STOP” abruptly (because only they know when the end of the rhyme comes) and you have to freeze completely, not laughing or blinking. They’re really not very accomplished at this, for all the practice they have, because they inevitably lose the “stop” under pressure of tickling. Which is allowed, for some reason.
We also jumped rope, which was awesome! I was really bad, but they apparently didn’t mind because they would be jumping and then say a rhyme which we actually did understand, “EMILY EMILY, ARE YOU IN?” and then you’re supposed to run and jump into the rope as it goes around. After that I think you’re supposed to say something to the tune of “I’m in, now get out,” but I didn’t really catch the words. Usually I jumped on the rope or did something else clumsy by that point. We had a startling moment when the jumping rope just snapped in two, but strangely no one else reacted. As the games continued we realized the rope breaking was part of the game, incorporated because of the repetitiveness of the occurrence. The best part seemed to be when they’d tie two different thicknesses of rope together, completely throwing off the balance of the spinning and ensuring somebody would trip sooner or later. Any pieces left lying around were snatched up by the younger children, especially Fred. Fred liked to sit off by himself on top of a tree stump, buzzing like a jet captain or gargling his displeasure with the angle of the sun. Occasionally he would leap off his post, running in circles and waving his right arm frantically around and around before seizing upon a bit of rope or a stone. Obviously, Fred’s company was most desirable to Christine and me, his presence being the only one not thrust into our laps.
Other anomalies worth noting include the complete disregard for personal space, which is taking some getting used to. Aside from the children petting our strangely pale skin or playing with our toes (my friend Kelsey said a little one licked her back), our mother also seems to disregard any need for space. I laugh as I write this because I was so overwhelmed at this point that I simply watched this strange play I found myself participating in, appalled and immobile. We were sitting on the back step, on our grass mats of course, next to our mother. Mother was lying on her mat, talking in Luganda to Stanley, our older brother who was visiting. I was sitting next to her, drinking the instant coffee she’d had brought to us (they seriously put 3 times as much sugar as coffee in their coffee, and that’s when they’re being conservative). I pour the coffee and she is a good 6 inches from my right elbow. I give Christine her coffee and she’s a bit closer, leaning over to bemoan the dearth of sugar in my cup, convinced I’m just being polite. She turns back to her conversation, gesticulating enthusiastically about what I can only assume is a household matter or a family friend. I’m trying to drink this scalding and rather unpleasant instant coffee, focused on not getting it all over myself when WHACK. I get an elbow in the side. Groggy, I decide not to take on another problem on top of the coffee issue and write it off to the expounding of a particularly important point. THOINK. Finger grazes my cheek. I’m leaning away at this point, wondering if the new angle of uprightness will jeopardize my coffee-drinking success. Again with the elbow, then the head comes into what I can only define as the air above my lap. At this point I’m just trying to contrive an excuse to leave while simultaneously willing away the sludge at the bottom of my cup, neither of which seems promising.
Sorry to leave you hanging, but I actually can’t remember how this situation was resolved. I feel like she was called away or that I got up, but I’m not really sure which it was. The point anyways was the progression, not the resolution. : )
The reason I was so tired was because Sunday afternoon (just before this occurred), Christine and I had been on a seemingly innocent walk with Stanley to our Uncle’s house. We’d been besieged by children for hours, so I asked him if we could “escort him” (that’s what they say instead of “go with him” or “accompany him”) on his journey, as he was obviously going out for a bit. He said of course, that he was just going down the road. If this seems ominous to you, you’re smarter than me. We ended up going all the way down our hill and then up the next hill/mountain, to reach a stone quarry and deliver some “medicine” (looked like a water bottle of ginger ale to me) to Stanley’s aunt, who was sick. The walk was seriously long and we were beat afterwards, but I handled the hills pretty well thanks to Intro to Wellness! All that ellipticizing finally pays off. Plus, the scenery was amazing, looking out across rolling hills, banana trees, flowering plants, tiny houses, and the occasional stream. Definitely better than the view from Messiah’s fitness room! We also got to see a lot of different kinds of houses, a creek, marshes, and a well. I really wanted to see the well because of all the water access stuff I’ve done with the Collaboratory. This particular well was more of a pipe sticking out of the hill that ran continuously, because Stanley said it never ran dry. A bit different than the arid deserts of Mali, where they drill 50 ft down at least to reach a reluctant water table.
I also asked Stanley and Uncle Robert about different kinds of bricks and building strategies, in true engineering style. Robert is preparing to build an addition to his house, so he’s storing up mud bricks in his yard, as he can afford them. When he has enough he’ll start construction. Speaking of engineering, my family’s eldest daughter did electrical engineering in her undergrad program (only 2 years here) and now is in her 2nd year of a four-year telecommunications engineering program. She stopped by the house last night to say hi, but she won’t be around much because she has to “sit her examinations” during the next two weeks. She was so engaging though, and we got to play with this little baby from next door named Eric while we were talking. It was the most pleasing mix of femininity and technology that I have ever experienced. So natural, even as we talked about how few girls there were in our classes and how you have to be a “strong woman” to finish the program. I was disappointed she won’t be around more, because apparently when she lived at the house she’d sleep in the same room as the girls the family would host and stay up and talk to them for hours! Sigh. But Stanley was really good to talk to, as well. I got him to explain about Uganda politics, what he thought about the LRA (Lord’s resistance army, a rebel group in northern Uganda), life after university, unemployment, going to America, war, and the media. Fascinating stuff. He was just as disappointed about the negative perception many Americans have of Africa as I am, but I know through programs like the USP that can change for the better.
I can’t send this today, probably, because the internet has been down all day, but maybe tomorrow [Tuesday].
[Actually the internet was down till today,Wed. 22-1-09]
I have had many spiritual musings this weekend, some of which I mentioned to you and I want to write about them. However, I don’t quite feel up to it yet for some reason, so I will just pray for strength meanwhile and for the courage to share the things which are moving me more deeply even than the culture shock.
[22-1-09]
The internet is so slow but it is back! I'm attaching the journally stuff i wrote on monday [which is written above], but until i get to write a new one know that things with my "family" are getting much more comfortable- I've even joked around with my host father a little bit! People are arriving for our "family gathering" on Sunday already, so our tiny house is getting so full! I'm gonna attach this and send it while i have internet, but i'll be writing you another long one soon!
--Emmes
