Enjoy these next few hours because 2010 is almost OH-ver!!!
Resolutions and goals for 2011?
* Better at keeping in touch with family & friends across the miles
* Stay organized
* Enter an LPN nursing program
* Practice & improve upon guitar playing skills
* Revisit study of the Old Testament
* Enjoy life!!!!!!!
Wishing you the best for 2011!
Friday, December 31, 2010
Snow!
The first couple of weeks of December here in Akron, Ohio were a brutal message: WINTER IS HERE!
Dearly Departed
Honoring the memory of two special people who passed away this year…
~ Bazurizi Vicent
[Written by Hayley White]
Growing up in rural Bunyaruguru, it’s only fitting that Bazurizi would spend his career devoted to improving livelihoods of impoverished people in his home area. With COVOID, he trained community members in microfinance activities and with another organization, he was active in raising awareness about human rights. Though he worked all hours, 7 days a week, Bazurizi was also committed to his family and in the process of constructing a new family home for his wife and 7 kids. He was also starting a large-scale poultry project to supplement his family’s income.
Bazurizi came from a very humble background and dropped out of school after level S3, when he was about 15. A decade or so later, after starting his family, he decided to return to school, finishing the obligatory level S4 (like 10th grade), advancing to S5 and S6, and then completing a diploma in Development Studies. Can you imagine walking the halls of high school as a 23-year-old junior? That’s Bazurizi.
He had his eccentricities. As many unique, determined, and hardworking individuals are, Bazurizi was a relentless, shall we say….troublemaker. He told it like it was. He created arguments just to rip common ideas apart and build them back up again into something new—and you always loved him the more for it in the end. I called him “omutabuzi” or, destroyer, but we all knew that he was more truthfully the opposite. He had a knack for showing up to work at precisely the time lunch was being served. He stole my phone charger for a whole month. He was so determined to keep me in Uganda forever that he scoured the community and found the best man he could for me to marry—uh….thanks. He ran 5 miles every morning to “protect against laziness.” He climbed guava trees with the spry of a teenager. He tucked his pants into his socks when it was muddy. He was STUBBORN.
He was the first, and the only, Ugandan to ever admit to me that he doesn’t believe in God. He’s also one of the few I’ve met to have really ever given the issue a whole lot of critical thought. When asked for his reasons, he stated simply that he didn’t think the timing and the science of the Bible could be all right. When I suggested, in a way more curious than persuasive, that some people view the Bible’s “timeline” of creation and later events to be largely symbolic and not exclusive of science and evolution at all, he looked at me in a way more thoughtful than I’d intended to make him and replied, “well, that could change everything, couldn’t it?” His mouth was always flapping, but his mind was always open. He studied the Bible an awful lot for someone who doesn’t believe it. Bazurizi loved people, and served people, and laughed with people for his entire life and WITH his entire life. So what makes someone a Christian anyway?
His Christian name, Vicent, is a version of Vincent that was misspelled on official school paperwork and attached to him out of legal convenience. Therefore, it’s best to remember him as most knew him, as Bazurizi (Bah-zoo-ruh-zee)—meaning, the martyrs. Though an active lover of life and far from a willing self-sacrifice, we can still be hopeful that he died for something and that his memory can guide the rest of us to walk forward to fill his enormous shadow of kind-heartedness, curiosity, and community service.
~ Treva Elizabeth Manbeck Fahrney (aka “Grandma Fahrney”)
Grandma was a woman who had quite a sense of humor. I remember her telling a story of when she was younger, how she put her younger sister (Arlene) up to peeing down through a loft in a barn on their family farm. Unfortunately, Arlene was peeing as a farmhand entered the barn. [Oops!]
One time when my sister Amie and I spent the night at Grandma and Grandpa’s, Grandma took her top dentures out in the morning and told me it was my turn to take MY teeth out. I tried a few times and told her I couldn’t take my teeth out like she could. She insisted that I could and we went back and forth about it (making me very frustrated). Amie decided to join in and told me, “Nicole, if Grandma can take HER teeth out don’t you think you can take YOUR teeth out?” (Word has it that Grandma teased my cousin’s children and tried to get them to remove their teeth, too.)
Some of the things she taught her family and friends was the importance of family… unconditional love… and forgiveness. She had an amazing capacity to forgive. There’s not one single person among her extended family or friends who has ever been perfect. She had the ability to forgive each of us and love us regardless of our flaws and mishaps. She never missed an opportunity to ask someone what they were up to, or what their hopes for the future were. She always encouraged us in all of our endeavors.
A woman with a great sense of humor and a great capacity to love. She is dearly missed yet fondly remembered.
~ Bazurizi Vicent
[Written by Hayley White]
Growing up in rural Bunyaruguru, it’s only fitting that Bazurizi would spend his career devoted to improving livelihoods of impoverished people in his home area. With COVOID, he trained community members in microfinance activities and with another organization, he was active in raising awareness about human rights. Though he worked all hours, 7 days a week, Bazurizi was also committed to his family and in the process of constructing a new family home for his wife and 7 kids. He was also starting a large-scale poultry project to supplement his family’s income.
Bazurizi came from a very humble background and dropped out of school after level S3, when he was about 15. A decade or so later, after starting his family, he decided to return to school, finishing the obligatory level S4 (like 10th grade), advancing to S5 and S6, and then completing a diploma in Development Studies. Can you imagine walking the halls of high school as a 23-year-old junior? That’s Bazurizi.
He had his eccentricities. As many unique, determined, and hardworking individuals are, Bazurizi was a relentless, shall we say….troublemaker. He told it like it was. He created arguments just to rip common ideas apart and build them back up again into something new—and you always loved him the more for it in the end. I called him “omutabuzi” or, destroyer, but we all knew that he was more truthfully the opposite. He had a knack for showing up to work at precisely the time lunch was being served. He stole my phone charger for a whole month. He was so determined to keep me in Uganda forever that he scoured the community and found the best man he could for me to marry—uh….thanks. He ran 5 miles every morning to “protect against laziness.” He climbed guava trees with the spry of a teenager. He tucked his pants into his socks when it was muddy. He was STUBBORN.
He was the first, and the only, Ugandan to ever admit to me that he doesn’t believe in God. He’s also one of the few I’ve met to have really ever given the issue a whole lot of critical thought. When asked for his reasons, he stated simply that he didn’t think the timing and the science of the Bible could be all right. When I suggested, in a way more curious than persuasive, that some people view the Bible’s “timeline” of creation and later events to be largely symbolic and not exclusive of science and evolution at all, he looked at me in a way more thoughtful than I’d intended to make him and replied, “well, that could change everything, couldn’t it?” His mouth was always flapping, but his mind was always open. He studied the Bible an awful lot for someone who doesn’t believe it. Bazurizi loved people, and served people, and laughed with people for his entire life and WITH his entire life. So what makes someone a Christian anyway?
His Christian name, Vicent, is a version of Vincent that was misspelled on official school paperwork and attached to him out of legal convenience. Therefore, it’s best to remember him as most knew him, as Bazurizi (Bah-zoo-ruh-zee)—meaning, the martyrs. Though an active lover of life and far from a willing self-sacrifice, we can still be hopeful that he died for something and that his memory can guide the rest of us to walk forward to fill his enormous shadow of kind-heartedness, curiosity, and community service.
~ Treva Elizabeth Manbeck Fahrney (aka “Grandma Fahrney”)
Grandma was a woman who had quite a sense of humor. I remember her telling a story of when she was younger, how she put her younger sister (Arlene) up to peeing down through a loft in a barn on their family farm. Unfortunately, Arlene was peeing as a farmhand entered the barn. [Oops!]
One time when my sister Amie and I spent the night at Grandma and Grandpa’s, Grandma took her top dentures out in the morning and told me it was my turn to take MY teeth out. I tried a few times and told her I couldn’t take my teeth out like she could. She insisted that I could and we went back and forth about it (making me very frustrated). Amie decided to join in and told me, “Nicole, if Grandma can take HER teeth out don’t you think you can take YOUR teeth out?” (Word has it that Grandma teased my cousin’s children and tried to get them to remove their teeth, too.)
Some of the things she taught her family and friends was the importance of family… unconditional love… and forgiveness. She had an amazing capacity to forgive. There’s not one single person among her extended family or friends who has ever been perfect. She had the ability to forgive each of us and love us regardless of our flaws and mishaps. She never missed an opportunity to ask someone what they were up to, or what their hopes for the future were. She always encouraged us in all of our endeavors.
A woman with a great sense of humor and a great capacity to love. She is dearly missed yet fondly remembered.
Welcome Home
I arrived back in Cleveland, Ohio, USA joyfully greeted by my family. I remember seeing them and my niece ran up to me to give me a BIG hug! It was so good to see my family again. We enjoyed dinner out that night, and the following day my mom prepared a fantastic home cooked meal (mashed potatoes included... yay!!!). A little bit of culture shock as there was snow on the ground!
Laughter & Tears In International Airports
ENTEBBE, KAMPALA. Entering through security to go check in for my flight… I was stopped and questioned about the contents of one of my duffel bags and my carry-on. No problem...
SECURITY OFFICER: [Searching through carry-on] “What’s this, a computer battery?”
NICOLE: “Yes.”
SECURITY OFFICER: [Holding up a ziplock bag w/ contents in plain sight] “And THESE? What are THESE?”
NICOLE: “Tampons.”
SECURITY OFFICER: [Confused look on the face] “What?”
NICOLE: “Tampons.”
SECURITY OFFICER: [Confused look on the face continues]
NICOLE: “Female hygiene products?”
SECURITY OFFICER: [Still looking a little confused] “Okay.”
SECURITY OFFICER: [Handing over paperwork to be signed due to searching contents of bag] “So you’re leaving us?”
NICOLE: “Yep. Sorry.”
SECURITY OFFICER: [Smiling] “But why don’t you stay longer?”
NICOLE: [With laughter] “You’re government won’t let me stay longer right now. I’ve already stayed longer.”
SECURITY OFFICER: “But you’ll come back?”
NICOLE: “Yes, I’m hoping to come back and at least visit.”
SECURITY OFFICER: “When are you coming back?”
NICOLE: “I’m not sure yet, but I hope soon. Thank you…”
SERIOUSLY?!? Did someone from Nyakasharu PAY him to ask me to stay or ask when I’m coming back?!? The 2 questions EVERYONE kept asking me in Nyakasharu: "But why don't you stay longer?" & "So when are you coming back?"
And then there was the interrogation at Amsterdam… Security is really tight there right now. Each passenger or family was questioned by a security agent before getting their carry-on screened one more time (the carry-on being re-screened was nothing new… but the questioning seemed excessive, as there were many officers questioning at the same time). My security officer seemed to ask the right questions (unfortunate for me). My friend, Grace, had given me a present that I promised not to open until I reached home in America. I just put it in my checked baggage thinking with x-ray technology it would be fine & if security had opened it before I reached home, then no problem. But I forgot about needing to know ALL of the contents of your checked baggage. When he asked me if I had received any gifts from people in Africa, I said “yes.” And when he asked if I had received anything that was still wrapped, that I didn’t know what was inside I said, “yes.” [Oops. Big mistake.] He then asked me questions about who gave it to me, how long I knew them… And when I replied, he then asked me when my friend Ben’s birthday was (Ben is Grace's husband...and he is the CEO of the Ugandan NGO I volunteered with). I said, “I don’t know, but I know he’s 41.” He snapped back with laughter, “You don’t even know when you’re friends birthday is?!?” I was SO upset from all of the questioning and feeling like a criminal, plus all I could think of was that “Africans don’t really celebrate their birthdays and many don’t even know when theirs is,” so exhausted, I just broke into tears. He saw how upset I was and changed his demeanor. Explaining how it was just a precaution. I said, “Yes, but I’ve been traveling for a very long time, I’m tired, and I just want to go home.” He told me they were just going to check my checked baggage, it wouldn’t delay the flight or anything and told me I could continue thru and have a seat. He would bring me my passport in a couple of minutes. I said, “I’m not going ANYWHERE without my passport! I’m staying here until you’re finished with it and have returned it to me.” Wow, what a learning point for me. I kept telling myself over and over, “Duh, Nicole.” But his Dutch accent speaking English was really annoying and he was somewhat of a jerk until I broke into tears and then yelled at him for suggesting I move on without my passport in hand. After I returned home, I told the story to my sister. She then recalled how there was a security incident recently in Amsterdam involving someone traveling from Africa. She said she never thought about it, otherwise she would have warned me. So warning to any of your family & friends traveling through Amsterdam TO or FROM Africa (especially FROM): Expect tight security.
SECURITY OFFICER: [Searching through carry-on] “What’s this, a computer battery?”
NICOLE: “Yes.”
SECURITY OFFICER: [Holding up a ziplock bag w/ contents in plain sight] “And THESE? What are THESE?”
NICOLE: “Tampons.”
SECURITY OFFICER: [Confused look on the face] “What?”
NICOLE: “Tampons.”
SECURITY OFFICER: [Confused look on the face continues]
NICOLE: “Female hygiene products?”
SECURITY OFFICER: [Still looking a little confused] “Okay.”
SECURITY OFFICER: [Handing over paperwork to be signed due to searching contents of bag] “So you’re leaving us?”
NICOLE: “Yep. Sorry.”
SECURITY OFFICER: [Smiling] “But why don’t you stay longer?”
NICOLE: [With laughter] “You’re government won’t let me stay longer right now. I’ve already stayed longer.”
SECURITY OFFICER: “But you’ll come back?”
NICOLE: “Yes, I’m hoping to come back and at least visit.”
SECURITY OFFICER: “When are you coming back?”
NICOLE: “I’m not sure yet, but I hope soon. Thank you…”
SERIOUSLY?!? Did someone from Nyakasharu PAY him to ask me to stay or ask when I’m coming back?!? The 2 questions EVERYONE kept asking me in Nyakasharu: "But why don't you stay longer?" & "So when are you coming back?"
And then there was the interrogation at Amsterdam… Security is really tight there right now. Each passenger or family was questioned by a security agent before getting their carry-on screened one more time (the carry-on being re-screened was nothing new… but the questioning seemed excessive, as there were many officers questioning at the same time). My security officer seemed to ask the right questions (unfortunate for me). My friend, Grace, had given me a present that I promised not to open until I reached home in America. I just put it in my checked baggage thinking with x-ray technology it would be fine & if security had opened it before I reached home, then no problem. But I forgot about needing to know ALL of the contents of your checked baggage. When he asked me if I had received any gifts from people in Africa, I said “yes.” And when he asked if I had received anything that was still wrapped, that I didn’t know what was inside I said, “yes.” [Oops. Big mistake.] He then asked me questions about who gave it to me, how long I knew them… And when I replied, he then asked me when my friend Ben’s birthday was (Ben is Grace's husband...and he is the CEO of the Ugandan NGO I volunteered with). I said, “I don’t know, but I know he’s 41.” He snapped back with laughter, “You don’t even know when you’re friends birthday is?!?” I was SO upset from all of the questioning and feeling like a criminal, plus all I could think of was that “Africans don’t really celebrate their birthdays and many don’t even know when theirs is,” so exhausted, I just broke into tears. He saw how upset I was and changed his demeanor. Explaining how it was just a precaution. I said, “Yes, but I’ve been traveling for a very long time, I’m tired, and I just want to go home.” He told me they were just going to check my checked baggage, it wouldn’t delay the flight or anything and told me I could continue thru and have a seat. He would bring me my passport in a couple of minutes. I said, “I’m not going ANYWHERE without my passport! I’m staying here until you’re finished with it and have returned it to me.” Wow, what a learning point for me. I kept telling myself over and over, “Duh, Nicole.” But his Dutch accent speaking English was really annoying and he was somewhat of a jerk until I broke into tears and then yelled at him for suggesting I move on without my passport in hand. After I returned home, I told the story to my sister. She then recalled how there was a security incident recently in Amsterdam involving someone traveling from Africa. She said she never thought about it, otherwise she would have warned me. So warning to any of your family & friends traveling through Amsterdam TO or FROM Africa (especially FROM): Expect tight security.
This Is It – We Meet
Departing Uganda was one of the most difficult things I've had to do. The last words I could say to the last person I hugged as I boarded a bus in Nyakasharu heading for Kampala was, "We meet." I can't wait until the day arrives when I am able to visit all of my Ugandan family and friends.
I departed Uganda with a proper send-off... a surprise farewell party! Ugandans certainly do know how to party!!! The end of my stay was also filled with SEVERAL visits to peoples' nearby homes and villages. I wish I would have taken greater effort to record those experiences to share here with others. But the memories are strong and will always stay with me.
My Ugandan friends continue to ask me via email, texts, and Facebook "When are you coming back?" I wish I had a definitive answer, and I wish it could be "Tomorrow!" But the reality is, it will still be at least a couple of years.
I wish all of my Ugandan family & friends the best (and I promise to try to do a better job of staying in touch with you!!!).
Ogumeho. [Stay safe.]
Meet the Neighbors
Let me introduce you to my neighbors from Nyakasharu (the finest neighbors a person could ever hope for!):
Stella
Immaculate
Divine & Chosen
Donald
Brenda & Juliete
Bruno
Hayley
Stella
Immaculate
Divine & Chosen
Donald
Brenda & Juliete
Bruno
Hayley
The Bataringaya Family
The family of Bataringaya Ben and Kesande Grace was my host family in Uganda, the family that invited me to come. Their children are Bernard, Hero, Sheba, Rhona, and Isabella. I will forever appreciate their love, kindness, and generosity. (I love you all!)
Pants vs. Trousers
I found it interesting to hear some differences regarding words and phrases we use in our American English language versus words and phrases Ugandans use in what is most likely British-influenced English. Here are some examples:
Trousers = Pants
Biscuits = Cookies
Football = Soccer
Footing = Walking/Hiking
Have you produced? = Have you had any children?
I need to go for short call. = I have to go #1. (I need to pee.)
I need to go for long call. = I have to go #2. (I need to poop.)
I’m shifting soon. = I’m moving soon. (i.e., relocating residence)
I’m going for prayers. = I’m going to church.
We move. = Let’s go.
We meet. = See you later.
Trousers = Pants
Biscuits = Cookies
Football = Soccer
Footing = Walking/Hiking
Have you produced? = Have you had any children?
I need to go for short call. = I have to go #1. (I need to pee.)
I need to go for long call. = I have to go #2. (I need to poop.)
I’m shifting soon. = I’m moving soon. (i.e., relocating residence)
I’m going for prayers. = I’m going to church.
We move. = Let’s go.
We meet. = See you later.
Trauma Healing: Message of God’s Love Will Be Carried
The third and final trauma healing workshop took place in February. This workshop was comprised of mostly representatives from area village savings and loans associations.
Out of all three workshops, this group, collectively, may possibly have had the least amount of formal education. But they seemed to show the most passion for wanting to continue to share the lessons they learned in the workshop with people back in their villages. Unlike previous groups, this group showed initiative. They exchanged phone numbers and locations so that in the future they may be able to form brainstorming sessions on how they can share the information with others. One man even suggested that if future trauma healing workshops or follow-up are conducted, we bring some bibles that they can purchase for at least a minimal fee so that they have the bible as a reference for others learning how the wounds of our hearts can begin to heal.
Every individual is unique. We all have different life experiences and “situations.” But we all tend to understand that pain can seem such a cruel and unusual thing. And somehow, it changes us forever.
Praise the LORD! That He offered a sacrifice to heal all of us for an eternity. That He loves each of us, unconditionally. Amen!
The Sovereign LORD has filled me with his Spirit.
He has chosen me and sent me
To bring good news to the poor,
To heal the broken-hearted,
To announce release to captives
And freedom to those in prison.
He has sent me to proclaim
That the time has come
When the LORD will save his people.
And defeat their enemies.
He has sent me to comfort all who mourn,
To give to those who mourn in Zion
Joy and gladness instead of grief,
A song of praise instead of sorrow.
They will be like trees
That the LORD himself has planted.
They will all do what is right,
And God will be praised for what he has done.
[Isaiah 61:1-3]
Foosball & Scrabble
After taking dinner at Mugogo Resort one Sunday afternoon, Robert, Justus, Hayley and I had fun competing each other in foosball and Scrabble. It’s embarrassing to admit, but I was the ultimate loser in both games.
Hayley seemed to dominate the foosball table and has been crowned “Foosball Champion.” But Robert put both of us Americans in our places as he won the game of Scrabble (all words had to be in English). If only we were closer to a basketball court…!
Murugahara
The first time I visited the office at Unique High School, I was greeted with respect and a friendly welcome.
Upon learning that I was from the USA, one of the teachers announced that he used to live in California. Suspecting that it was not true I quickly replied, “Oh, really? I have a friend who grew up in San Diego and now lives in San Luis Obispo! How far were you from there?” With a sheepish smile and laughter he confessed, “No, no! I’ve never lived there!” (Yep, buddy… You’ve just been BUSTED!) Everyone was in laughter.
This is the first memory I have of being introduced to my dear friend, Murugahara Benedict (aka, Master Ben).
Murugahara. His African name meaning, “He comes from far.” Ben is the 7th of 11 children. During childbirth doctors did not think that both he and his mother would survive the delivery. I am happy to report: They are both alive and well today! (Congratulations to Ben as he celebrated his 30th birthday July 11th! Sorry I missed it!)
After studying in seminary for several years, Ben eventually realized that the priesthood was not his intended purpose. He is very knowledgeable of Scripture, retaining much of what he learned in seminary. I’ve heard his own father refer to him as “The Priest.”
English teacher, football coach, county clerk, computer tech – a few experiences you may find listed on his resume.
A friend to the COVOID office... A friend to my next door neighbor, Immaculate… A friend to me and Hayley. [And ladies, last I was aware... he was still SINGLE & SEARCHING!]
According to our friend Immaculate, Ben and I are both stubborn. We like to joke and tease with each other and our friends. One of our conversations went something like this:
BEN: “So, have you ever ridden a camel?”
NICOLE (eyebrows raised): “No. Have YOU ever ridden a camel?!?”
BEN (straight-faced): “Yes, I’ve ridden a camel.”
NICOLE(straight-faced): “No you haven’t.”
BEN (laughing): “No, no. I haven’t.”
Busted again! Maybe someday he’ll ride a camel… in California?
A day finally arrived that Ben was able to take me to visit the village he grew up in, located in Kasese District. He arranged to take me on a motorbike via Queen Elizabeth National Park.
Prayers for the journey: “Dear Lord, please don’t let the motorbike break down,” and “Dear Lord, please let there be no wild animals that come upon us and attack.”
We were to meet at about 10a.m. that morning. But here’s a side story I’d like to interject: While waiting for Ben at the shops in front of where I live, one of my neighbors who operated an electronics shop approached me with laughter and asked, and I quote, “What’s up Nigga?!?”
[Wangi?]
Picture a look of startled hesitation on my face as I searched my mind for a response. I believe the rest of the conversation went something like this:
NICOLE: “What? Why did you call me a ‘Nigga?’”
NEIGHBOR: [Grins with laughter.]
NICOLE: “I’m not sure I understand. In America that can be a very bad thing to say to someone. Not always, but I don’t understand why you called me a ‘Nigga?’”
NEIGHBOR (Still grinning with laughter): “Because you’re wearing sunglasses and trousers. You look like one of those bad boys who sometimes wear all of the jewelry.”
[Keep in mind, I was not wearing any jewelry.]
NICOLE: [Removes sunglasses. Rarely wears sunglasses in Uganda now.]
I wasn’t offended. Just wasn’t expecting to hear that kind of greeting. Although, this is the same neighbor who would sometimes great Hayley and I on our return home from the COVOID office by shouting, “Hello, you BEAUTIFUL ladies!” To which I would reply, “Hello, you BEAUTIFUL man!”
Now, back to Murugahara…
Ben arrived on the motorbike and, after taking chi and chapatti at Doreen Hotel, we were off to Kasese! If I had to describe the ride through Queen Elizabeth National Park in one word? Amazing. A refreshing, heart-pumping kind of amazing. It was a crisp sunny morning… wind beating against us … an unforgettable expanse of scenery. Some people are surprised that I never went on a commercial land safari during my stay in Uganda. But with a day such as the one I spent with Ben, who wants to ride around in an enclosed diesel SUV with a bunch of touring Europeans who’d rather not speak one word to me? No, I prefer to hang with the nationals.
We made a stop at one of the entrances of Queen Elizabeth National Park. Ben asked permission if we could take a few photographs at the sign near the entrance and then we were on our way to Katwe.
Only a few moments after leaving the entrance of Queen Elizabeth National Park, we stopped at a local bed and breakfast where Ben greeted a friend of his, Helima. We ended up giving her a ride to Katwe, so imagine me sandwiched in between the two on a motorbike. Helima pointed out a spot were the lions come to mate. Luckily for us, it was not within the mating season.
Nearing Katwe, Helima gave us a tour of a salt lake where she and her family mine salt by hand. (It's quite and interesting process!) We then arrived at Katwe where we were told a story of how a young boy had been eaten by a crocodile while fetching water (one of the challenges of water accessibility in Uganda).
After touring Katwe, we said our good-byes to Helima and headed for the village where Ben grew up.
We arrived at the home of Ben's parents to a warm greeting and an amazing home-cooked meal (I still want that recipe for fried cassava balls)! I also met one of Ben's brothers and week took a brief tour of some of the family property. Daylight starting to fade, we decided it was time to start making our way back to Nyakasharu.
Ben surprised me on the way back by taking me to the nearby Congo border... a moment that was not without it's drama!
A man in a yellow MTN t-shirt who appeared to be some sort of border guard would not let us cross the border on the motorbike since we did not have papers to cross. We were barely even able to walk up the bridge that serves as the most visible type of dividing line between Uganda and the D.R. Congo. We had to negotiate that we would be allowed to get as close of a look at Congo as possible without crossing the bridge or taking a photo towards Congo. We could only take photos toward the direction of Uganda.
It was awesome to just stand on a road and realize, "We're standing in one country and right there is another country! A place I've only read about in books and the newspaper!" Maybe I'm just easily amused.
After having our look, we asked permission to have our photo taken with the stern border guard (he was more than happy to grant THAT wish!), and then we headed back through Queen Elizabeth National Park, (stopped for a photo opp at the equator) and eventually arrived back at Home Sweet Nyakasharu.
A fantastic day that I will never forget.
Upon learning that I was from the USA, one of the teachers announced that he used to live in California. Suspecting that it was not true I quickly replied, “Oh, really? I have a friend who grew up in San Diego and now lives in San Luis Obispo! How far were you from there?” With a sheepish smile and laughter he confessed, “No, no! I’ve never lived there!” (Yep, buddy… You’ve just been BUSTED!) Everyone was in laughter.
This is the first memory I have of being introduced to my dear friend, Murugahara Benedict (aka, Master Ben).
Murugahara. His African name meaning, “He comes from far.” Ben is the 7th of 11 children. During childbirth doctors did not think that both he and his mother would survive the delivery. I am happy to report: They are both alive and well today! (Congratulations to Ben as he celebrated his 30th birthday July 11th! Sorry I missed it!)
After studying in seminary for several years, Ben eventually realized that the priesthood was not his intended purpose. He is very knowledgeable of Scripture, retaining much of what he learned in seminary. I’ve heard his own father refer to him as “The Priest.”
English teacher, football coach, county clerk, computer tech – a few experiences you may find listed on his resume.
A friend to the COVOID office... A friend to my next door neighbor, Immaculate… A friend to me and Hayley. [And ladies, last I was aware... he was still SINGLE & SEARCHING!]
According to our friend Immaculate, Ben and I are both stubborn. We like to joke and tease with each other and our friends. One of our conversations went something like this:
BEN: “So, have you ever ridden a camel?”
NICOLE (eyebrows raised): “No. Have YOU ever ridden a camel?!?”
BEN (straight-faced): “Yes, I’ve ridden a camel.”
NICOLE(straight-faced): “No you haven’t.”
BEN (laughing): “No, no. I haven’t.”
Busted again! Maybe someday he’ll ride a camel… in California?
A day finally arrived that Ben was able to take me to visit the village he grew up in, located in Kasese District. He arranged to take me on a motorbike via Queen Elizabeth National Park.
Prayers for the journey: “Dear Lord, please don’t let the motorbike break down,” and “Dear Lord, please let there be no wild animals that come upon us and attack.”
We were to meet at about 10a.m. that morning. But here’s a side story I’d like to interject: While waiting for Ben at the shops in front of where I live, one of my neighbors who operated an electronics shop approached me with laughter and asked, and I quote, “What’s up Nigga?!?”
[Wangi?]
Picture a look of startled hesitation on my face as I searched my mind for a response. I believe the rest of the conversation went something like this:
NICOLE: “What? Why did you call me a ‘Nigga?’”
NEIGHBOR: [Grins with laughter.]
NICOLE: “I’m not sure I understand. In America that can be a very bad thing to say to someone. Not always, but I don’t understand why you called me a ‘Nigga?’”
NEIGHBOR (Still grinning with laughter): “Because you’re wearing sunglasses and trousers. You look like one of those bad boys who sometimes wear all of the jewelry.”
[Keep in mind, I was not wearing any jewelry.]
NICOLE: [Removes sunglasses. Rarely wears sunglasses in Uganda now.]
I wasn’t offended. Just wasn’t expecting to hear that kind of greeting. Although, this is the same neighbor who would sometimes great Hayley and I on our return home from the COVOID office by shouting, “Hello, you BEAUTIFUL ladies!” To which I would reply, “Hello, you BEAUTIFUL man!”
Now, back to Murugahara…
Ben arrived on the motorbike and, after taking chi and chapatti at Doreen Hotel, we were off to Kasese! If I had to describe the ride through Queen Elizabeth National Park in one word? Amazing. A refreshing, heart-pumping kind of amazing. It was a crisp sunny morning… wind beating against us … an unforgettable expanse of scenery. Some people are surprised that I never went on a commercial land safari during my stay in Uganda. But with a day such as the one I spent with Ben, who wants to ride around in an enclosed diesel SUV with a bunch of touring Europeans who’d rather not speak one word to me? No, I prefer to hang with the nationals.
We made a stop at one of the entrances of Queen Elizabeth National Park. Ben asked permission if we could take a few photographs at the sign near the entrance and then we were on our way to Katwe.
Only a few moments after leaving the entrance of Queen Elizabeth National Park, we stopped at a local bed and breakfast where Ben greeted a friend of his, Helima. We ended up giving her a ride to Katwe, so imagine me sandwiched in between the two on a motorbike. Helima pointed out a spot were the lions come to mate. Luckily for us, it was not within the mating season.
Nearing Katwe, Helima gave us a tour of a salt lake where she and her family mine salt by hand. (It's quite and interesting process!) We then arrived at Katwe where we were told a story of how a young boy had been eaten by a crocodile while fetching water (one of the challenges of water accessibility in Uganda).
After touring Katwe, we said our good-byes to Helima and headed for the village where Ben grew up.
We arrived at the home of Ben's parents to a warm greeting and an amazing home-cooked meal (I still want that recipe for fried cassava balls)! I also met one of Ben's brothers and week took a brief tour of some of the family property. Daylight starting to fade, we decided it was time to start making our way back to Nyakasharu.
Ben surprised me on the way back by taking me to the nearby Congo border... a moment that was not without it's drama!
A man in a yellow MTN t-shirt who appeared to be some sort of border guard would not let us cross the border on the motorbike since we did not have papers to cross. We were barely even able to walk up the bridge that serves as the most visible type of dividing line between Uganda and the D.R. Congo. We had to negotiate that we would be allowed to get as close of a look at Congo as possible without crossing the bridge or taking a photo towards Congo. We could only take photos toward the direction of Uganda.
It was awesome to just stand on a road and realize, "We're standing in one country and right there is another country! A place I've only read about in books and the newspaper!" Maybe I'm just easily amused.
After having our look, we asked permission to have our photo taken with the stern border guard (he was more than happy to grant THAT wish!), and then we headed back through Queen Elizabeth National Park, (stopped for a photo opp at the equator) and eventually arrived back at Home Sweet Nyakasharu.
A fantastic day that I will never forget.
Trauma Healing Continues
The second of three trauma healing workshops was conducted in January. Representatives from the Protestant church were asked to participate, as well as local teachers and some leaders from area village savings and loans associations. Having learned some lessons from the previous workshop, a few adjustments were made and things seemed to go rather well.
By this time in my Ugandan stay, I had made some friends and become familiar with local faces. Some of my friends ended up participating in the second workshop, which was probably the most difficult part of the workshop for me. When you’re dealing with traumatic issues in a format that encourages discussion and shared experiences it can be quite an emotional experience – not only for participants but facilitators as well. I remember one evening as I was laying down trying to fall asleep tears kept rolling on my face. My mind kept replaying the day’s events and some of the stories my friends had shared. My heart somehow felt broken by the reality I had listened to and I had to tell myself, “This is life.”
Not every moment was straight-faced and serious. In fact, this group of participants seemed to be the most comical. They were able to joke around with one another and laugh. And there was also lots of singing and clapping to hymns.
Again, individual participants expressed how they were learning to experience healing in their own lives. Healing. A process that takes time. I pray that for the men and women I shared that week with, that healing continues throughout their lives – no matter how long it takes. Amen.
By this time in my Ugandan stay, I had made some friends and become familiar with local faces. Some of my friends ended up participating in the second workshop, which was probably the most difficult part of the workshop for me. When you’re dealing with traumatic issues in a format that encourages discussion and shared experiences it can be quite an emotional experience – not only for participants but facilitators as well. I remember one evening as I was laying down trying to fall asleep tears kept rolling on my face. My mind kept replaying the day’s events and some of the stories my friends had shared. My heart somehow felt broken by the reality I had listened to and I had to tell myself, “This is life.”
Not every moment was straight-faced and serious. In fact, this group of participants seemed to be the most comical. They were able to joke around with one another and laugh. And there was also lots of singing and clapping to hymns.
Again, individual participants expressed how they were learning to experience healing in their own lives. Healing. A process that takes time. I pray that for the men and women I shared that week with, that healing continues throughout their lives – no matter how long it takes. Amen.
Game On! COVOID vs. The Boda-Bodas
One day COVOID received a letter from the local boda-boda drivers (hired motorbike taxi drivers). They were requesting the opportunity to play COVOID staff for a chance to win a football (soccer ball), most likely because of knowledge all of the balls COVOID had donated to schools that had participated in the football camps.
In January, the big game had finally arrived. Uniforms were borrowed from a local high school and, well… Game On!
I think most people speculated that the boda-boda guys would win due to the tough-guy mentality that most of them try to radiate. But have no fear! COVOID did not disappoint… with Justus scoring the first goal in the first half and his sub, Master Ben, scoring the winning goal in the second half.
Congratulations COVOID!
Even though the boda-bodas were defeated, COVOID still donated a football for good sportsmanship.
The following day, 14 letters arrived from other area clubs and organizations requesting a chance to play COVOID. [14!] Sorry folks but COVOID staffers do actually have work to do. And the boda-boda game was difficult enough to schedule.
[Game Over.]
Jacana
Do you remember my friend, Ahimbisibwe James? He had been wanting to go visit Jacana Lodge with me. After the holidays had passed we found a time when he, Hayley, and I could go footing there together. It was going to be a long journey, but we were up for a full day of being outdoors and getting some exercise.
The trek to Jacana was about 3 ½ hours each way, but it was fun to have time to chat along the way… meet many people in passing… be introduced to more villages… be sung to by local children… see baboons, butterflies, and other interesting wildlife up close.
Jacana Lodge is just inside Queen Elizabeth National Park. The lodge is actually a bit off the beaten path. Most visitors hire a car to drive them back in and have to pass through a couple of gated areas. Luckily for us, James was with us and was able to sweet talk us through both gates. It probably helped that he knew employees at the lodge.
We at lunch at the lodge which was probably the most tasty meal I had eaten at any of the lodges in Uganda. The restaurant was a bit open-air. We learned to keep an eye on our food as a money had swooped down across an unoccupied table that had crackers on it (apparently the monkey thought free appetizers were being served?).
After our lunch, a look around the facilities, and a bit of a rest we made our way back home to Nyakasharu.
Special thanks to James for a fun tour of Jacana (I hope your feet recovered from the dress shoes you wore through all of that walking!)
They Know It’s Christmas Time In Africa
I don’t think I’ve ever experienced such an exhausting Christmas Day! A sketch of Christmas Day 2009:
7:00AM / Opened presents packed in my carry-on backpack by my family…I was in bed…in my pajamas…under a beautiful light blue mosquito net…shedding several tears as I realized it was my first Christmas away from my family and I was opening gifts without them…ALL BY MYSELF
10:00AM-1:00PM / Prayers at Ndekye Church of Uganda…afterwards, a brief visit at the home of my friends Tusiime & Moses
1:30PM / Took in a Fanta soda at Doreen Hotel…the girls at Doreen (waitresses) were all gussied up in their Christmas Day dresses...the restaurant didn’t seem to be open yet since it’s Christmas Day…ended up with a free lunch, courtesy of Pasaki (the manager)…toured the upstairs which officially opened that very day
4:00PM / Headed back to Tusiime’s to walk with her to The Cave for some sort of community-wide celebration…along the way I saw my friend Richard, who bought a couple of sodas, hard-boiled eggs, and biscuits (cookies) for me and Tusiime (we stopped to enjoy the treats and visit)…then, finally, THE CAVE…traditional dancers took the stage, then eventually the evening turned into a community-wide dance party…sipped down a soda…and headed back to Tusiime’s before it got too dark
6:30PM / Another visit with Tusiime’s family…ate some food…received a couple of gifts from her and her mother
8:00PM / Stopped by Doreen for a soda and enjoyed the upstairs where music videos play
10:00PM / Unwound from all the walking, visiting, dancing…exchanged a few greetings with the few neighbors who didn’t flee to a village somewhere…sent off a few texts…Zzzzzzz
Usually, my Christmas Day consists of being at my parents’ house for breakfast or brunch…opening gifts with my parents and grandmothers…my sister and her family arrive for lunch…then a little more gift-giving…then be lazy the rest of the afternoon by occasionally eating buffet-style, soaking up heat in front of the fireplace, playing with my niece and her new toys, listening to music, some friends may stop by (we used to go visit friends when I was younger)…just being LAZY.
But Christmas is the time of year when Ugandans really CELEBRATE!!!! There are usually various church services throughout the week. Lots of visiting, drinking, and eating. It is said that Ugandans won’t go out to eat like we do…won’t buy Christmas decorations like we do…they save up all year long so they can afford the cost of lots of food and drinks to really enjoy Christmas and New Year’s.
There may not be as much gift-giving in Uganda as there is in the United States, but there is some. The biggest market day of the year is actually the monthly market day in early December. That’s when more vendors than usual will appear. There is a much larger selection of items to choose from…and plenty of people willing to make a deal!
For anyone who wonders if they know about Christmas in Africa, the answer is “YES.” At least, in Uganda they do!
Ninkwendeza Noiri! [Happy Christmas!]
7:00AM / Opened presents packed in my carry-on backpack by my family…I was in bed…in my pajamas…under a beautiful light blue mosquito net…shedding several tears as I realized it was my first Christmas away from my family and I was opening gifts without them…ALL BY MYSELF
10:00AM-1:00PM / Prayers at Ndekye Church of Uganda…afterwards, a brief visit at the home of my friends Tusiime & Moses
1:30PM / Took in a Fanta soda at Doreen Hotel…the girls at Doreen (waitresses) were all gussied up in their Christmas Day dresses...the restaurant didn’t seem to be open yet since it’s Christmas Day…ended up with a free lunch, courtesy of Pasaki (the manager)…toured the upstairs which officially opened that very day
4:00PM / Headed back to Tusiime’s to walk with her to The Cave for some sort of community-wide celebration…along the way I saw my friend Richard, who bought a couple of sodas, hard-boiled eggs, and biscuits (cookies) for me and Tusiime (we stopped to enjoy the treats and visit)…then, finally, THE CAVE…traditional dancers took the stage, then eventually the evening turned into a community-wide dance party…sipped down a soda…and headed back to Tusiime’s before it got too dark
6:30PM / Another visit with Tusiime’s family…ate some food…received a couple of gifts from her and her mother
8:00PM / Stopped by Doreen for a soda and enjoyed the upstairs where music videos play
10:00PM / Unwound from all the walking, visiting, dancing…exchanged a few greetings with the few neighbors who didn’t flee to a village somewhere…sent off a few texts…Zzzzzzz
Usually, my Christmas Day consists of being at my parents’ house for breakfast or brunch…opening gifts with my parents and grandmothers…my sister and her family arrive for lunch…then a little more gift-giving…then be lazy the rest of the afternoon by occasionally eating buffet-style, soaking up heat in front of the fireplace, playing with my niece and her new toys, listening to music, some friends may stop by (we used to go visit friends when I was younger)…just being LAZY.
But Christmas is the time of year when Ugandans really CELEBRATE!!!! There are usually various church services throughout the week. Lots of visiting, drinking, and eating. It is said that Ugandans won’t go out to eat like we do…won’t buy Christmas decorations like we do…they save up all year long so they can afford the cost of lots of food and drinks to really enjoy Christmas and New Year’s.
There may not be as much gift-giving in Uganda as there is in the United States, but there is some. The biggest market day of the year is actually the monthly market day in early December. That’s when more vendors than usual will appear. There is a much larger selection of items to choose from…and plenty of people willing to make a deal!
For anyone who wonders if they know about Christmas in Africa, the answer is “YES.” At least, in Uganda they do!
Ninkwendeza Noiri! [Happy Christmas!]
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Dance With Me
Bugutu. Potential. Ability. Single & Searching. Bread & Butter. Bogola Ko.
Somehow I became known for having a passion to dance.
Maybe it’s because while making my way home from the COVOID office I’d dance my way past the electronics shop that blared music in front of my compound.
Or maybe because at COVOID’s end-of-year party at The Cave I danced the night away until midnight (they had to pull the plug on the music that night).
There was dancing New Year’s Eve at Mugogo Resort with Bitwa, Justus, Agaba, and some random drunk guy. The community-wide Christmas Day celebration at The Cave, where I danced with Orikikiria Scovia, Tusiime Scovia, and a few women who seemed quite amazed that a muzungu would be so outgoing.
One afternoon while walking along a road I saw the old man who played fiddle for the local traditional dancers…PERFECT opportunity to show off my interpretation of Bunyaruguru’s traditional dancing!
How about the 4-hour impromptu dance party at Robert’s? Or dancing with Macklene’s family and their neighbor kids?
A few “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” moments at Hayley’s, enjoying her awesome music collection… Watch out! She does a mean “Robot.” (We even managed to sneak in some dance moments with our neighbors’ teenage housegirls, Brenda and Juliet… we’re such bad influences.)
And, of course, a few random dance moments at the COVOID office (especially when I heard my song: Bugutu). Don’t worry, we really did get some work done! (Somehow.) I like to think of it as “Office Morale.”
I guess I do like to dance. Especially with fun music and willing company.
Am I any good? Umm… I’m going to have to go with a “NO” on that one. (I just think of the saying, “Dance like no one is watching.”)
Do YOU wanna dance with me? Come on over. The music’s already playing!
Somehow I became known for having a passion to dance.
Maybe it’s because while making my way home from the COVOID office I’d dance my way past the electronics shop that blared music in front of my compound.
Or maybe because at COVOID’s end-of-year party at The Cave I danced the night away until midnight (they had to pull the plug on the music that night).
There was dancing New Year’s Eve at Mugogo Resort with Bitwa, Justus, Agaba, and some random drunk guy. The community-wide Christmas Day celebration at The Cave, where I danced with Orikikiria Scovia, Tusiime Scovia, and a few women who seemed quite amazed that a muzungu would be so outgoing.
One afternoon while walking along a road I saw the old man who played fiddle for the local traditional dancers…PERFECT opportunity to show off my interpretation of Bunyaruguru’s traditional dancing!
How about the 4-hour impromptu dance party at Robert’s? Or dancing with Macklene’s family and their neighbor kids?
A few “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” moments at Hayley’s, enjoying her awesome music collection… Watch out! She does a mean “Robot.” (We even managed to sneak in some dance moments with our neighbors’ teenage housegirls, Brenda and Juliet… we’re such bad influences.)
And, of course, a few random dance moments at the COVOID office (especially when I heard my song: Bugutu). Don’t worry, we really did get some work done! (Somehow.) I like to think of it as “Office Morale.”
I guess I do like to dance. Especially with fun music and willing company.
Am I any good? Umm… I’m going to have to go with a “NO” on that one. (I just think of the saying, “Dance like no one is watching.”)
Do YOU wanna dance with me? Come on over. The music’s already playing!
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Single & Searching
Confession time. One of the things I liked about being in Uganda was how much I actually felt like a woman.
Wearing a long skirt was a must if I was to maintain my Christian integrity throughout my stay, especially in villages. In Ugandan culture, a woman’s chest area isn’t nearly the sexual attraction as it is in The United States (though I’m convinced it’s somehow still an attraction). They’re more about just what’s from the waist down. Wearing a pair of pants (or, trousers as they call them) is considered to be very revealing.
I could get away with wearing trousers since most Ugandans understand that American women wear trousers. But for the sake of blending in and not being stared at by men, I did my best to wear skirts as much as possible. And to be honest, I enjoyed wearing skirts more than trousers. I felt prettier. More like a lady. Less like a Wild West Calamity Jane.
And not only FEELING more like a lady, I felt I was TREATED more like a lady. Many compliments about my smart (fashionable) attire, my smile, and sometimes even my hair (although, there were plenty of times my Ugandan friends pointed out the wild personality of my hair… usually by mid-day… the risk of having whimsical hair).
One of the temptations was often being TOO well admired and appreciated. I must say, Uganda has many attractive and polite gentlemen. A dangerous combination for a single woman in a country where polygamy, though not encouraged by the government, appears to be legal… and pure, romantic affections and courtship tends to be secretive.
Though I may not be 100% accurate in my investigation of local culture (and not all situations are alike), here are my observations and findings regarding matters of the heart:
SECRECY is key to the dating game, at least in southwest Uganda. When someone has a real boyfriend or girlfriend who they think they may marry someday, it is important that they do not publicly acknowledge the relationship or tell their family. The reason for the secrecy is to protect both people in the relationship from humiliation. If the relationship were to end, it could be considered a disappointment to relatives and also hurt the reputation of one or both persons in the relationship.
So what does the path to marriage look like? When do families finally find out who a person’s spouse will be? Follow along…
Introduction: This is when a couple who has been seriously dating makes a formal public declaration of their intent to marry. The introduction usually takes place at the home of the man’s family to ensure that he is certain about his decision and to ensure that he will appear for the introduction. An introduction is similar to an engagement, only it bears much more weight in Uganda than it does in the United States. Either person in the relationship can still change their mind and decide not to marry, but it is highly uncommon. A person who decides to exit the relationship after being introduced is likely to be thought of as a crazy person. It is common for couples to have one or two children before they are introduced. This is partly due to prove that the woman is fertile (unfortunately, not everyone understands that a man can be the infertile one). Also, a couple may begin referring to each other as husband & wife at this point, even though they have not yet had a formal legal wedding ceremony. According to Ugandan culture, couples are not granted permission to marry unless a bride-price or dowry has been negotiated and agreed upon with the father of the bride-to-be. If the man cannot afford the bride-price for the woman he wants to marry, he must find another woman to marry. This can lead people to marrying primarily for financial reasons rather than for compatibility of personality, personal goals & interests, etc. Money that is given as the bride-price will later be used by the bride-to-be’s family to buy the couple gifts to help them furnish their home as a newlywed couple. Since wedding ceremonies can be so expensive, some couples never progress to being legally married. But their recognition as husband & wife by family and friends, along with their faithfulness to one another, can still remain.
Giveaway: The giveaway is a special party where friends and family of the couple gather to celebrate the upcoming wedding ceremony. Several months (and sometimes years) may pass between the introduction and the giveaway. The giveaway usually takes place one or two days before the wedding ceremony. At this time, friends and family bring gifts to help furnish the home of the newlywed couple. (Remember, the bride’s family uses the bride-price for this.)
Wedding Ceremony: Finally, the big day has arrived! The ceremony itself can last a few hours, with singing, dancing, Scripture reading, sermon, communion, & plenty of photos. Men wear finely tailored suits and the women wear brightly colored dresses. The fashion-sense of the wedding party tends to have a Western culture influence. Wedding guests are dressed in their smartest attire, some more traditional than others. (“Smart” is the word Ugandans use to describe someone who is well-dressed or highly fashionable.) The reception that follows includes many speeches from close friends and relatives. Wedding guests enjoy a great feast. And don’t forget the cake. Cake is usually cut into small pieces and is served to guests by the bride and groom. Guests only take a small amount, so there is no great need to remind people to “save room for cake!” There is usually plenty of cake left over that is wrapped and given to close relatives and special friends as a gift from the bride and groom. Speaking of gifts, wedding guests personally present their gifts to the bride & groom at the appropriate designated time. What else? More celebrating as the bride & groom, wedding party, and guests DANCE, DANCE, DANCE the night away!
So there it is. In a nutshell. My take on the Ugandan migration from the life of being single to “happily ever after.”
I always felt it important to press my male friends to inform me about their marital or real dating status. And I always tried to emphasize the importance of being told the TRUTH. As in The United States, you never want to be caught being too friendly with a married man or a man who may be secretly dating one of your female friends. That would be terrible!!!
This American bachelorette came home to Ohio, still single & searching.
Wearing a long skirt was a must if I was to maintain my Christian integrity throughout my stay, especially in villages. In Ugandan culture, a woman’s chest area isn’t nearly the sexual attraction as it is in The United States (though I’m convinced it’s somehow still an attraction). They’re more about just what’s from the waist down. Wearing a pair of pants (or, trousers as they call them) is considered to be very revealing.
I could get away with wearing trousers since most Ugandans understand that American women wear trousers. But for the sake of blending in and not being stared at by men, I did my best to wear skirts as much as possible. And to be honest, I enjoyed wearing skirts more than trousers. I felt prettier. More like a lady. Less like a Wild West Calamity Jane.
And not only FEELING more like a lady, I felt I was TREATED more like a lady. Many compliments about my smart (fashionable) attire, my smile, and sometimes even my hair (although, there were plenty of times my Ugandan friends pointed out the wild personality of my hair… usually by mid-day… the risk of having whimsical hair).
One of the temptations was often being TOO well admired and appreciated. I must say, Uganda has many attractive and polite gentlemen. A dangerous combination for a single woman in a country where polygamy, though not encouraged by the government, appears to be legal… and pure, romantic affections and courtship tends to be secretive.
Though I may not be 100% accurate in my investigation of local culture (and not all situations are alike), here are my observations and findings regarding matters of the heart:
SECRECY is key to the dating game, at least in southwest Uganda. When someone has a real boyfriend or girlfriend who they think they may marry someday, it is important that they do not publicly acknowledge the relationship or tell their family. The reason for the secrecy is to protect both people in the relationship from humiliation. If the relationship were to end, it could be considered a disappointment to relatives and also hurt the reputation of one or both persons in the relationship.
So what does the path to marriage look like? When do families finally find out who a person’s spouse will be? Follow along…
Introduction: This is when a couple who has been seriously dating makes a formal public declaration of their intent to marry. The introduction usually takes place at the home of the man’s family to ensure that he is certain about his decision and to ensure that he will appear for the introduction. An introduction is similar to an engagement, only it bears much more weight in Uganda than it does in the United States. Either person in the relationship can still change their mind and decide not to marry, but it is highly uncommon. A person who decides to exit the relationship after being introduced is likely to be thought of as a crazy person. It is common for couples to have one or two children before they are introduced. This is partly due to prove that the woman is fertile (unfortunately, not everyone understands that a man can be the infertile one). Also, a couple may begin referring to each other as husband & wife at this point, even though they have not yet had a formal legal wedding ceremony. According to Ugandan culture, couples are not granted permission to marry unless a bride-price or dowry has been negotiated and agreed upon with the father of the bride-to-be. If the man cannot afford the bride-price for the woman he wants to marry, he must find another woman to marry. This can lead people to marrying primarily for financial reasons rather than for compatibility of personality, personal goals & interests, etc. Money that is given as the bride-price will later be used by the bride-to-be’s family to buy the couple gifts to help them furnish their home as a newlywed couple. Since wedding ceremonies can be so expensive, some couples never progress to being legally married. But their recognition as husband & wife by family and friends, along with their faithfulness to one another, can still remain.
Giveaway: The giveaway is a special party where friends and family of the couple gather to celebrate the upcoming wedding ceremony. Several months (and sometimes years) may pass between the introduction and the giveaway. The giveaway usually takes place one or two days before the wedding ceremony. At this time, friends and family bring gifts to help furnish the home of the newlywed couple. (Remember, the bride’s family uses the bride-price for this.)
Wedding Ceremony: Finally, the big day has arrived! The ceremony itself can last a few hours, with singing, dancing, Scripture reading, sermon, communion, & plenty of photos. Men wear finely tailored suits and the women wear brightly colored dresses. The fashion-sense of the wedding party tends to have a Western culture influence. Wedding guests are dressed in their smartest attire, some more traditional than others. (“Smart” is the word Ugandans use to describe someone who is well-dressed or highly fashionable.) The reception that follows includes many speeches from close friends and relatives. Wedding guests enjoy a great feast. And don’t forget the cake. Cake is usually cut into small pieces and is served to guests by the bride and groom. Guests only take a small amount, so there is no great need to remind people to “save room for cake!” There is usually plenty of cake left over that is wrapped and given to close relatives and special friends as a gift from the bride and groom. Speaking of gifts, wedding guests personally present their gifts to the bride & groom at the appropriate designated time. What else? More celebrating as the bride & groom, wedding party, and guests DANCE, DANCE, DANCE the night away!
So there it is. In a nutshell. My take on the Ugandan migration from the life of being single to “happily ever after.”
I always felt it important to press my male friends to inform me about their marital or real dating status. And I always tried to emphasize the importance of being told the TRUTH. As in The United States, you never want to be caught being too friendly with a married man or a man who may be secretly dating one of your female friends. That would be terrible!!!
This American bachelorette came home to Ohio, still single & searching.
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