3-6-08
There’s been a lot that has happened over the past 2 or 3 weeks since I last posted. Our group of USP students just got back from rural homestays in a district known as ‘soroti’ in Northern Uganda. It’s about 6 hours away from mukono where the university is. Also, I braided my hair-african styel-and it took 11 hours, but then proceeded to take it out a week later because it was itching and hurting. Oh, and we stayed in a mountainess village in northern Uganda as well known as ‘captura’ where we hiked about 10 miles round trip to see the beautiful ‘sipi’ falls of Uganda. We also saw two other beautiful falls. Now I’m back at school trying to get adjusted to the city and demands of classes. So much change in 2 weeks. I think I’ve been relying on uganda’s only good chocolate (Cadbury chocolate) to get me through some of the days…maybe I’ll get fat off of it…
So about rural homestays-they were wonderful and amazing all at the same time (yes that is possible) . I felt at home living in a compound circled with huts with a huge mango tree in the center, surrounded by little piglets, chickens, goats, dogs, a giant proud turkey, children, herded cows, and hot sun-as well as a wonderfully loving family. I’ve always wanted to live on a farm with a cowboy-I think being in soroti, Uganda reiterated this hope. Funny as it is…We lived there for a total of five days and I had a mama (‘toto’) , a papa, a sister (Jacenta), another extended sister (stella), a extended brother (moses), and a little girl (grace). Surprisingly they had a pet pus cat too…that was a nice change-I could actually hold this one in my lap and stroke it’s soft ears while it purred. It made me think of my cat yama.
Some interesting things that went on while I was living with my loving family:
-learned how to cook millet bread (a sticky sort of bread that is a staple food in soroti)
-learned also how to roast g-nuts (peanuts), make millet porridge, peel cassava (a root that kind of has a potato like consistency), shell g-nuts, squeeze berries into juice, pound millet, and serve tea to others….consequently, after serving tea to some of the usp drivers and staff Johnson offered to purchase us as brides…say 10 cows each? He said we were good cooks and workers. He was joking (I hope)…I don’t know why but I was flattered. Oh, but the cow price definitely cannot be less than 100 cows (that bride price is improbably here). The second time we served him he offered my papa 20 cows. Ha ha-that’s funny Johnson.
-tried to help a new-born calf stand up on it’s weak premature legs.
-pumped water from the ‘boar hole’ and provided some entertainment for those drawing water from the well (kids and adults alike). I carried grace on my shoulders all the way there and the other kids wanted a ride as well.
-rode a ‘bike’ part ways to the well. No pedals, barely in breaks, and waaay to tall for my body but it was great fun. Most of the time the bikes are ridden with two large jerrycans on the back filled with water. I thought of a family friend-james fischer-in benin who might be traveled the red-soiled African rodes on some bike similar to the one I rode.
-sung with my toto—her voice was beautiful. She was beautiful.
-went to a funeral and sat on the same hard bench for five hours while women came in a wailed at the death of the woman (she was 93). All the same, I heard various sermons in the ateso language (the language of soroti), sung, sat, listened to wailing, took a “short hall” in the bush (never drink water when you’re going to a funeral and can’t move for five hours, because soon your bowels will start screaming). Oh, and I forgot to mention-I saw a man dragged in on a rope by three men-naked from the waist up and being beaten with canes. Hard and long. I wasn’t sure how to even react at first. I was scared and almost panicked-I didn’t fear for my life no, but I just was so jolted at about what was going on. The men were beating him so hard and he was falling and trying to get awhile…all the while a woman was wailing and commotion was stirring in the crowd of mourners.
So-apparently the man was the youngest son of the older woman who had died and he had gone out-leaving the mourners-to drink that morning. The men found him, dragged him into the funeral, and started beating him as punishment. This is a cultural custom of the ateso tribe. Interesting-did not know that-wish I could have had a vague description of that before. In the states we would say the man was sad and that’s why he was drinking…but not in the ateso tribe. It was a sin against God. This is a cultural practice that I can hear and believe and see but something that I will never quite understand….
Saw the woman’s casket lowered in the ground and felt saddened.
Sipi falls narrative to come…
Love to all
