I'm Thankful for Good Food

The first few weeks that I spent in Acholiland, I was a bit annoyed at how proud the Acholi are of their food.  Acholi live in the most fertile part of the country, and will proudly tell anyone who will listen that their food is organic and very high quality.  At first I doubted whether this was true, but most people in Uganda "garden" both to feed themselves and for whatever income they earn, and have been doing so for generations.   Ugandans will insist that you eat a huge amount of whatever they give you, and will get insulted if you don't eat it.  I  finally ended up just telling my family that the food was much better here and I just wasn't used to it.

And let's be honest- the food is better here.  There are many things I did not/do not like in the states that I like/don't mind here: green pepper, mango, papaya, pineapple, and sweet potatoes.  Despite Uganda having laws forbidding genetically modified organisms from entering markets here, the enforcement is lacking.  So there might be some Monsanto seeds, hybrid fruits (the oranges that don't get orange is a key suspect), and a lot of non-native species (jack fruit and cassava) the food is nonetheless fresh, local, and delicious.

Eggs.  A dozen would go for like $1.50

After living here for a while, I'm starting to really appreciate the food system.  You buy your food the day you use it.  There's no need for a refrigerator.  Eggs stay fresh for weeks because chickens are raised well.    There's virtually no processed food.  The only gluten is from bread bought at the one supermarket in town, which you could easily avoid.  The same goes for sweets or dessert food.

Oranges (they stay green here) and avocado

5 small tomatoes cost $0.20, and you buy them from the lady who grows them.  Pineapple now costs $1.50 instead of $0.50 because its out of season, which is reasonable.  Food is more expensive out of season, which means you eat food when it's fresh.  Plus, fresh, organic, local produce is actually cheaper than junk food (or even low quality produce in the grocery store).  I love how buying roasted maize or and avocado is literally a quarter of the price of buying something processed.  It's as it should be.

You buy real produce, with spots, bumps, and uneven ripeness.  You buy real food from real people.

You cook everything (eggplant, cabbage, cassava, sweet or white potato, beans, eggs) basically the same: caramelize onions, throw in tomatoes (green peppers are optional), make a sauce, insert boiled/stir fried main dish here.  Add to rice or other starch and you're good to go.

Onion and ginger

I guess if I ate meat, I would be a bit put off by the open air meat shacks that sell goat meat.  You buy chickens or turkeys live, and do everything else yourself.  Beef isn't on the market now because all the cattle in the country have all been immunized against some disease and can't be sold for 3 months.  You can get milk or yogurt at the grocery store, but its expensive and not that good.  The only animal products I eat are eggs and a butter-like spread.

A rather small papaya

That's not to say everything here is health food.  Acholi cooking involves a rather off-putting amount of oil.  They judge me for only putting one teaspoon of sugar into my tea.  There's a ton of salt and a beef ramen-noodle like flavoring in everything.  They love soda, and a magarine-like spread that doesn't need refrigeration.  And Westerners have brought chips (french fries) here (why sweet potato fries aren't popular yet is beyond me).  But really, without processed food, salty food isn't going to kill you.

Since moving out of our home-stays, we've had some wonderful cooking adventures.  Our house is equipped with slightly above average cooking accessories: two burner propane stove (only one burner works consistently) instead of a one burner charcoal stove, running water and electricity.

Beans (about $1 a pound) 

Soon after we moved in, we realized why our home-stay families usually have one member of the family whose contribution to the household is solely cooking; the Acholi way of cooking with one burner takes at least 3 hours.

You'd be surprised how many college students don't know how to cook rice without a rice cooker.  Here, you have to sort the rice to remove sticks and stones.

We had a little cassava incident because we only found out after we ate cassava and we all had the runs that cassava has mild toxins in it and you have to soak it before you eat it, otherwise it's mildly poisonous.

Rice, Irish potatoes, and the ever-present onion/tomato sauce

Why is Guacamole not more of a thing here?

Our first attempt at Chapati, a fried maize flour tortilla like thing that kinda tastes like Indian nan, and probably is Uganda's version on nan considering the Indian influence.

As we're planning Thanksgiving here, I'm beginning to think about how we can modify the traditional foods to our location.  Pumpkins, sweet potatoes, and maize are all easy to find.  Ovens are really unusual (only restaurants or hotels have them) so for breads and pies we might have to buy them or borrow a friend's oven.  I've only seen a few turkeys in town, but I don't know if we're ready to kill it, pluck it, and clean it ourselves. I'd be fine skipping it, but I think some of my room mates want it.  I'd love some macaroni and cheese, but cheese is expensive and often moldy at the store.  I haven't seen green beans (and I'm pretty sure cranberries are not available), but we'll have some kind of greens.  I'd much rather make a really delicious Acholi meal than a really expensive, only ok American Thanksgiving.

Saying Goodbye

Sunday was my last night with my home-stay  family, and there was a farewell party.  My host mom bought me  kitenge (traditional African cloth) outfit for the occasion.  I spent the day chillin at home, getting pictures of my house before I left.  

As usual, Eveline and Jessica were the only ones available to attend the farewell party.  My host mother, who works at Human Rights Focus (a human rights monitoring organization), was out of town training people for something to do with human rights.  My host father is the executive director at a hospital in Mbarara, which was dealing with an outbreak of Marburg Hemorrhagic Fever (something scarily similar to Ebola, but no worries, there's been no new cases for over 2 weeks).

Anyway, since my professional parents were out of town, my host brothers could not go to the party because "they're too stubborn."  Ugandans use stubborn to mean poorly behaved.

This meant that I had a typical Westerner in Africa conversation.  Since the party started at 2 pm, I started getting antzy around 1:45.

"So I'm gonna go get dressed.  Are you going to wear kitenge too or am I going to be lonely?"
"Hahaha, we will all wear kitenge."

So I come out in kitenge, and no one else is dressed.  It's 1:55.
"So what time were you thinking we would leave?"
"Ahhhhhh! You look so smart! Bongo Leng! (Pretty clothes)."
"Thanks.  Are you going to change? You should wear bongo leng too."
"Ahh! doesn't she look smart!?!"
"Thank you.  What time were you thinking of leaving?"
"We will leave at 3."
"The party starts at 2."
"It is no problem, we will leave at 3."

We got there about 2:30, and we were the second family there.

Jackfruit tree in my homestay yard.  They kinda taste like fake banana flavoring, but better. 

My host brother Ema (Emmanuel) who only spoke to me in  full sentences in English my last day there.  Can you believe he's only 3 years old?

My host brother Deo, who has significant motor skills and speech impediments, but is still the friendliest member of the family.  He doesn't go to school so he doesn't know much English, so we mostly pointed and poked each other. 

Awkward family photo

Deo took this candid photo.  I feel good about it.  

Us congratulating Deo on his photography, courtesy of Ema

Obligatory "teach the munos to dance a traditional dance" portion of the farewell party.

Eveline always wanted to dance with me. 

The day after the farewell party, I moved to my new house.  My family was very sad to see me go, and I told them that I had to learn how to be a good Acholi woman and cook for myself.  They seemed satisfied with that.  I got a ride from my friend's host father, who happened to be the equivalent of a Mayor in Gulu.  When he pulled into my compound, he caused a bit of a ruckus because everyone wanted to greet him.  And then Eveline and Jessica blamed him for me leaving, because he was taking me away.  

My friend and I soon realized that we weren't exactly sure where our new house was, and somehow we had to tell her dad where to go.  He said, "I know which house it is."  Apparently, he knew the landlord and he approved because it was a nice house.  

International House Hunting

For our independent, unstructured month of either internship or research project, 12 of the students decided to live together.  We contacted a real estate agent to look at houses, and I felt like I was on a reality tv show.  The houses we looked at were all in the Senior Quarters area of Gulu, which kind of feels like the suburbs.  It's close to town, but it used to be where colonial administrators lived.  The houses are big, fenced in and generally beautiful.  We looked at a range of accommodations  some had stoves, some didn't, some had toilets, latrines, pit latrines, but only two had green spaces (which is pretty key for me).  Costs varied a lot too, with asking prices starting at 600,000 sh/ month to 2 million sh.  ($300-800).

Of course, we settled on the most expensive (and biggest and most beautiful), but when you split it 12 ways it was still pretty cheap.  It's actually not that crowded- 3 boys live in the extra house, 2 people live in huge closets, 2 doubles and 1 triple in the big house.  It's college life in Uganda.

I AM SO EXCITED ABOUT THIS HOUSE.  It's huge and beautiful.  

Kitchen, gas stove

tire swing!

Another tire swing!

Resident Chickens

Side yard

Guava tree!

My mess of a room

key feature- star on the ceiling

Like our Acholi families taught us, no shoes in the house

orange trees!

back porch

said toilet

water heater!

earopean shower, but the pressure's so bad that we bucket shower anyway

living room

sunroom!

what we call the Boys Quarters (2 rooms, one bath)

Front yard

giant grasshoppers that get everywhere :)

Apwoyo Dwogo

or Welcome Home (literally, thank you for coming)

I AM SO GLAD TO BE BACK IN UGANDA!

I'm so happy to be back in a country with street food and a currency that I understand.  There may not be garbage cans ANYWHERE, but at least they speak English.  Forget paved roads and street lights, I'd rather have rice and beans for $0.75 any day.

I must have lost weight in Rwanda, because several Ugandans have commented.
"You have been reduced."
"I'm sorry, what?"
"You have lost some kilos."
"Oh, thanks.  In America that's a compliment, is that a compliment here?"
"It depends on what size you start out with.  We have a saying, that if this bone, collar bone, sticks out, then you need to gain weight."
"I think muno collar bones and acholi collar bones stick out differently."

It is so nice to return to a town that I am familiar with.  The seasons have changed, though.  The rainy season used to last through the end of October, but "because of global change," it hasn't rained here for over a week.  It's also become windy, so I felt like I was crossing the desert this morning when I walked across town.  I can't get over how dry the roads that used to be mud are, or how the wind blows dust across town, or dust blowing into my eyes.

ok, Rwanda isn't all bad.

It's gorgeous.  The locals call them hills, but to me they might be mountains

.

The view from our hotel

Lake Kivu.  Gorgeous.