oh, africa: an aside

There are many funny points and oddities that I see each day and want to share:

Ugandan’s pick their nose. A lot. The first time I saw it I just assumed it was circumstantial but, nope! It is entirely common to be having a conversation with someone who is knuckle deep in their nose. How do I fit in? Do I start shoving my fingers up there, too?

The bodaboda is such a bizarre way to transport things, but that’s the norm. It is common to see huge chairs, couches, mattresses or coffins on the backs of these mopeds. In fact, someone told me that he saw a body wrapped in sheets on the back of a bike because the family couldn’t afford a coffin. Unfortunately, the drivers are part of the extensive HIV network here as young girls will gladly trade sex for transport.

I get asked some of the most off the wall questions about America: Do you have dust; Do you know what a monkey is; Have you ever heard of the flavor vanilla; Are you a wizard? And, without fail, “Oh, you’re American, how is Obama?” Just to show where their attention lies, I’ve also been asked what city in New York City I come from.

Breasts are entirely non-sexual here. Women openly pull out a boob in any forum to allow kids to breast feed and occasionally in the villages, the women at the markets just let it all hang out. Being an American and a nosy one at that, I have a hard time not looking down when I am buying something from a woman whose left breast is on display.

Babies don’t wear diapers here so it is not uncommon to be holding a child and find a wet spot on your shirt when you go to put them down. Perfect.

Mutatus are only supposed to carry 14 passengers but the drivers really have no problem just packing us in – 18, 20 people sometimes. Occasionally, they’ll be pulled over and ticketed for the offense but usually people just look the other way. Ugandan’s are very prideful people and if a driver gets pulled over and the officer notices muzungus in the car, the berating will be in English to further shame the driver in front of us. Plus, mutatus put personalizing slogans across their windshields, usually about their favorite Premier League team or something to do with Jesus; my personal favorite that I’ve seen is “Big Wallet,” what a personal ad!

The Ugandan people are ridiculously religious and it is asinine that people from abroad come here to try and preach about Christianity; if anything, the Ugandan’s need to loosen up about their literal readings of the Bible. Yes, this is coming from me and I am the furthest thing from a Bible reader but religion is mainstream enough here that almost every person I meet asks if I’m a Christian; many people think I’m on the straight path to Hell, no doubt. But my answer to that is how “forgiving” can a group be if they want to condemn someone to eternal punishment?

The Lugandan word for “congratulations” is “swagga.” How gangsta is that? :)

The sky here is unbelievable. It’s constantly shifting and somehow captures the concept of being both sublime and beautiful at once. (Paging Edmund Burke.) Furthermore, it recently dawned on me (pun entirely intended) that I haven’t seen a single plane overhead, it’s a bit odd.

I am in love with bartering. I might only win back fifty cents but dangit, I earned it.

I have a whole new outlook on the odors of the human body. You know that smelly guy you sat next to on the train the other day? Yeah, he wasn’t that smelly – promise.

One can get their nails done at the taxi parks here. There is a big group of men who stand there just waiting for customers. The other day some friends and I caved and said they could, for $1.25, paint our toenails. I am fascinated by them now! As soon as they finish putting a color on your toes they put sparkles all over the top, I was laughing so hard! My toes are currently red with little stars on top and yes, I will absolutely do that back home, too. What pizzazz! :)

Everything here is LOUD. Music, cars, televisions, everything. But the people speak so, SO softly and have no problem hearing one another over the ruckus. Often times when they start speaking they will be looking off into the distance and speaking so softly I just assume they’re talking to themselves.

I have had several questions about food via email. My vegetarianism has been taken in stride here as no one eats much meat anyway. There’s always a starchy base to the meal; rice, matooke, poshu, cassava or potatoes are the norm. Then often there are beans, ground nut sauce, cabbage, peas or maybe, eggs. It’s all steamed for about 1,234 hours prior to being served. The only time I have felt ill was after trying to eat western food. They also eat a lot of chapatti, pineapple and jack fruit, all of which I have fallen in love with.



A personal aside:

The past couple of days have been an interesting process of shedding doubts and coming to realizations. Because being here puts one in a constant position of scrutiny and throws you way outside of your comfort zone, there is no choice but to develop a wicked sense of self assuredness. I have never felt such a strong sense of self, such comfort in my own skin and such personal strength as what I’ve come into here. I’m okay with being vulnerable and disoriented because it is forcing me to learn and grow, to become more confident. I’ve never felt before like I could do anything at any cost, all else be damned. But now? I not only think I can, I know I can. I dig that.



One more thing! Not to bring him up again but Nicholas Kristoff’s current column in the NYTimes is all about the beads that I saw being made on Tuesday! Check it out! Awfully cool!

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/14/opinion/14kristof.html?hp