Spaghetti Night!

September 15 - 16th

Sunday was a relaxing day, I came back from Kampala around noon and
decided to explore a bit.
I went into town to look around at the local markets and to check my
emails. Around 4 pm I escorted Susan back to her boarding school, it
was about 10 km east of here. The school grounds seemed to be very
well maintained. I did not get to see much of it though as it was an
all girls school and they were very strict about men walking around
inside of the gates. Susan checked in and quickly ran off to meet her
friends and find her dorm room. On my way back I stopped off at a
hotel (Hotel Jobia). I had met the manager (Darryl) the other day and
we seemed to hit it off chatting about our different cultures. It was
nice to sit down and have beer and discuss the past events I had
experienced. Darryl keeps telling me of all these really cool places
that I need to go,
like the Mountains in the east (which have snow caps), the falls,
sesse island and the Entebbe zoo. The reckless Idi Amin (former
dictator) unfortunately killed off many of the wild animals around the
big cities so finding them in their natural habitat is a bit
difficult. If I can afford it I will soon go farther north to
experience a Safari tour.
I am slowly starting to adjust to the family life here, my Lugandan is
getting a bit better and several people around the village have
greatly appreciated my eagerness to learn their language.
I went to buy a desk on Monday as well as do some more shopping around
the village. Isaac has told me that it is important to bargain
especially if I am a mazoongu (white man). There is a different price
here for Mazoongu's and its usually more than triple the normal cost.
I could not find the Ikea, but did however find a carpenter who would
be able to build a small desk for me. At first he asked for 35,000
shillings which is around 20 dollars, I remembered Isaac telling me
that a desk should cost only 20,000 shillings so I insisted it was too
much. I find it much easier to bargain now that I know some lugandan,
ninge, ninge I said – too much, too much, the carpenter laughed at my
lugandan accent and said ok, 20,000. After I realized that the desk I
would be getting in Canada would be much more that 20 dollars, the
carpenter probably deserved 100,000 shillings for his work. It is
important though not to overpay even if you have the extra money
because they will become dependent on that and insist the higher
prices upon other mazoongu's as well as some locals.
Later on I had walked over to the market place to buy some fresh
avocado and an orange. It was incredible to see all the farmers out
with their beautiful ripe produce for sale. There was so much I wanted
to buy. Many farmers were selling meat, some of which looked horrible
smothered with flies and dirt. All the meat was displayed from hooks
hanging from a wooden beam, flies swarming around it as the butchers
took their knives to the sides to cut off small portions for
customers. Oh yes, this reminds me of something…the other night I was
given some red meat for dinner, it was a very small portion, no one
else had any except for me, I was excited to taste it but felt
horrible that I was the only one to have some. They treat me very well
here, always giving me lots of food and clean water to drink. I cut
off a piece of meat and put it in my mouth, my gag reflex kicked in
very fast. I cannot describe the taste of it even though it still
lingers in my mouth days after. I politely told them that I was not
used to such flavours back home and that maybe it will take some
getting used to, they chuckled and said, ok. That was my first
experience here where I was unable to eat something. I am pretty sure
that it was not an ordinary cut from a cow, Henry the father told me
that they eat every part of the cow, he did not however tell me which
part that was…probably for the best.
The youngest and only boy has grown fond of me, while I am around at
home he rarely leaves my side, often bringing his entourage of friends
along with him. Monday morning he burst into my room at about 5am to
show me his school uniform, "Matthew, Matthew, my uniform", he said
over and over. I was extremely tired and groggy but got up to see. I
have also taught him how to high five – he's become addicted and now
requires one every five minutes, he puts his hand as high as he can
reach high fives then walks out of my room, "School now, I see you
later."
I would have to admit although Isaac is around a lot and I am able to
go see Darryl when I have time off I am getting a little lonely. It
was nice on the weekend to converse as I like with Canadians, I plan
to visit Kampala every weekend.
On Saturday I was asked if I would like to attend a traditional
wedding, I agreed of course and am looking forward to experiencing
this.
I have also informed that family I am staying with that I wanted to
cook dinner for them, Henry, the father responded – "You can do these
things?" I said, "of course, I love to cook for people." The mother
seemed a little puzzled that I would want to cook dinner, however
enjoyed my enthusiasm about it. I figured I would make them spaghetti,
mainly because I have seen some boxes of pasta at the super market.
The big challenge will be making it over a fire, they don't have a
stove.

Lots of love to you all,
Matt

Wednesday September 17th
Spaghetti night!

Today had been a long day, Isaac and I have walked for about 8 hours
throught rural villages talking with community members and local
households to find out more information about the areas surrounding
Mukono. I came back home extremely tired barely able to lift my arm
after waving all day to children scream hello Mazoongu! (hello white
man). I did however promise to make dinner that night and was still
very eager to do so as it would be a great change from potatoes which
I am slowly starting to loath. I love spaghetti and figured I would
try it out to see if they liked it. The family I am staying with does
not have a stove, everything was made over a open fire which obviously
made things seem a little more difficult. I went around to the local
market and bought some fresh tomatoes, onion, garlic and peppers to
add to my sauce. Then I proceeded to the supermarket where I bought a
noodles and some ground meat from the butcher. The butcher was a man
standing outside of the supermarket with slabs of meat hanging up, he
would cut some off and grind it up for me I winced hoping that none of
the flies surrounding the meat were ground up as well. I brought all
the food home and showed it to the family. They could not believe that
I wanted to cook, they kept telling me that young men never want to
cook in Uganda. I persisted in telling them that I loved to do it
would enjoy making them more food in the weeks to come. While I was
gone that day, the daughters had washed all my clothes by hand as well
as hand washed my floor. I was shocked and a bit disappointed that
they did not allow me to help. Back to the dinner…as I prepared the
food over the fire several mothers in the area were invited to come
over and watch me, they all laughed and could not believe that a white
man wanted to cook. While I was mixing the ingredients for my sauce
one of the young sisters kept asking me if I had put salt in it yet, I
kept replying no, not yet thinking that maybe I will add a little in
after it has been cooking for a bit. When I turned my back she had
dumped probably about half to three quarters of a cup of salt and
about a ridiculous amount of garlic into me sauce. I was mad for about
2 seconds thinking she had ruined my dinner however just shrugged my
shoulders and went along with it like I have with everything else new
to me here. I assume since most of their food does not taste like
anything they use a lot of salt as flavoring. Cooking the noodles over
a open fire was kind of hard, I had accidently let them boil too long,
they were ruined though some were just softer than others. I had
invited my friend Darryl from the hotel and Isaac over for dinner they
came a bit early to watch me cook and we chatted about odds and sods
before we sat down. Now I hope this may not alarm you but the father,
Henry often goes into town to visit friends and have a gin or two,
twice now he has come home a little more bubbling than usual (trust me
he is harmless and extremely friendly). He sat down to eat and would
not stop describing how delicious the meal was, he kept insisting that
it was the best thing he had ever eaten and that I was truly a
blessing to him and his family. He went on, "Matthew, Matthew, you are
my Canadian son, you know? And I, I am your African Father, I worry
for your safety, so please I will protect you when you want to move."
His wife and children as well as Isaac and I just laughed. Everyone
really enjoyed the meal and was thankful that I had made it, why do I
know that, each person told me that about ten times. That evening
while we sat down for prayer I noticed that the young boy Jacob did
not seem well, I asked what was wrong and his mother had said that he
has malaria. It is a treatable virus however it was sad to see such a
young energetic young boy so weak and tired from fighting off his
sickness.
After reflecting on the nights events several things came to mind.
First off, I had bought a large amount of noodles so that everyone
could have a equal share. However I noticed when they served me that
my share was larger, larger than most portions I would even eat in
Canada. I urged them to take some and give more to Jacob and his
sisters but they seemed reluctant to do so. They treat me to well here
and I am always sure to tell them, (Weebele Kuba Maroonge gindee -
thank you for being so good to me). The second thing that came to mind
was my appreciation for the women of Uganda, their hard honest work
lies as the backbone for this country. Widowers whom have lost their
husband to HIV/AIDS work the fields, make the meals, as well as do
part time work in order to find extra money to send their kids to
school. I applaud their work ethic, integrity and love they have for
their children. They are selfless and compassionate working hard for
their children and their neighbors children and often take on orphans
from nearby villages. I am slowly seeing the payoff for all the labor
that they do, it's the smiles in a young child's face on his walk to
school, or laughter between kids as the run around a backyard playing
games. It's what every child deserves and what every person should
strive to provide.
Other things to mention…
I have been trying to communicate with the local government here in
Mukono, it is very hard, each department has some sort of rule that
you have to somehow slither around, and all I want it a few pages of
information about the area…I do seem to be getting somewhere though as
today finally I was given a book displaying multiple statistics about
education, water and sanitation, health and agriculture. It's a start
but I still require more.
I have become addicted to sugar cane, I have been buying it and eating
it mostly in the mornings so that I can have a piece between each
potato I eat, it breaks things up, makes breakfast a little easier to
digest. I will bring some home for Mark and Luke, I know they will
enjoy it.

Lots of Love to you all,
Matt