Playing Hooky

After two long days at Keframa College (more on that to come), Augustine tells us he has a few errands to run and would we mind hanging here today and “doing some emails.”  I can’t decide if he is just playing hooky or if he can’t get us a ride to school.  He has a boda boda he takes the kids to their school on, but we usually get picked up by a friend in a truck.  I think he is trying to spare us the face full of dust we would inevitably receive on the long dirt road to school. 

 Chelsea and I rejoice in the idea of a day off on the porch with our newly acquired internet.  As an added bonus, my favorite toddler, Jonathan, soon comes over with a bag of corn pops.  I have no idea who this child belongs to, but he always stops by with some sort of treat in his hand.  He gets into anything and everything, but is so cute you are willing to let it all slide. 

 

 Soon we hear the rattle of dishes which signals impending lunch.  I saw Susan carrying a dead rooster this morning so I am cautiously optimistic about the day’s culinary options.  Luring us in with the smell of recognizable meat and a flash of rice (no posho!), Susan then drops a bomb on us.  She would like us to attend her lunchtime church ceremony.  Given the recent bread incident, we say yes and act enthusiastic in the hopes of reviving her good favor.

 After lunch, we set out with the intent on walking the 1.5 miles into town.  Before we leave, Susan hands us both Bibles.  Mine is a very worn copy, very clearly their family Bible.  She tells me to keep it so I can “reflect upon the Lord” while I am here. 

 About 10 minutes into the walk, Susan gives up and hails two boda boda men.  She instructs us to hop on, and we are off.  Now, this is not only our second time on these death machines, it is the first time we are on a rented one.  Augustine took it nice and slow.  This guy is flying.  He comes within inches of bicycles and pedestrians.  Not to mention the looks we are getting for our riding style.  Ugandan women usually ride side saddle.  Chelsea and I climb on like men and hang on for dear life.  In long skirts, this is no easy feat and I am sure the driver is incredibly uncomfortable to have me clinging to him like a koala bear.

 Church was as we expected – lively, full of singing and dancing.  Chelsea and I bob along awkwardly, trying to fit in but in no was a rythemic or engaged as these people.  Susan even lets out a few Amazonian war calls.  Before the sermon can begin, we are asked to stand and state our names so the church can properly welcome us.  Thankfully, it is only an hour long….and in English.  Afterwards, we are taken to meet the chaplain, who is also the man who married Augustine and Susan.  He is pleasant enough, but there is something about that white collar that puts me on edge.  Sorry, Irish catholic family!

 On our way back, Susan takes us through the main marketplace.  The formal building is under construction, so it’s a large dirt area with makeshift tents laid out in rambling confusing ways.  They sell everything: food, clothes, shoes, pots and pans.  There is no apparent organization whatsoever and without her as a guide I think I might get stunk and end  up wandering through there like Moses in the dessert.

Back at the house, we find Augustine just waking from a nap.  Pushing my jealousy aside, we asked him to teach us some of the local language.  Uganda has 52 different local language, with the national one being English.  Here in Lira, they speak Loungo.  It’s a melodic, fast paced cadence with a heavy emphasis on the “ehh” sound.  Augustine is incredibly patient with us, but his face indicates that our America tongues are just not hitting the right sounds.  It doesn’t help that the children are openly laughing.

 Then a series of miraculous events.  First, a HOT SHOWER.  Attending church must have rekindled a warmth in Susan as she has filled the entire camp shower with hot water.  I have never been so excited to crouch down in a concrete jail cell as I was this night.  Then, dinner arrives and again we are spared posho!!  Instead, there is rice, black beans (hooray – for once not kidney) and then….THE EGG DISH RETURNS! 

 For once, Chelsea and I take seconds.  We don’t even sneak in crackers before bed.