Friday, December 31, 2010

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.

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