Pictures!

Baker's Fort

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A beautiful view of my new home, Gulu town! 

The first picture I took in Uganda- Gulutown!

Welcome to the rainy season!

It's hard to tell, but the water's about as deep as the wheels.

My host family's house :)

HUGE, CHEAP AVOCADO

My host cousin Jessica and our domestic worker, Eveline.  We were being serious.

Will this get into my clothes and bite me?

But these, "If you step on one, we will run from this place."

Acholi Wisdom

A recent class assignment was to ask our host family to tell us Acholi proverbs.  Many of them needed to be explained to me, and then clarified.  Below are translated selections from the list my class compiled.

A visiting dove gets easily trapped

Should I keep quiet when someone has hit my eye with a bone?

The elephant tusk does not defeat the owner. (Meaning, if you get a stubborn child, you can’t give it away.)

You cannot use a long stick to kill a snake which is near you.  (Someone who is not close to you cannot help you in an emergency)

Many rats cannot dig a house. (When too many people live together, nothing gets done because everyone assumes someone else will do the chores)

Water does not flow in reverse.  (You only live once- YOLO)

Wisdom is better than force.

A delicious fruit doesn’t produce twice a season.  (Opportunity only knocks once)

The male tortoise will be seen in the fire. (The best/smartest/strongest man will become famous/respected)

Polalar is beautiful but bitter.  (Not all that glitters is gold; Polalar is a fruit)  My teachers used AIDS as an example- “You might think someone is beautiful, and you might cohabitate, but even pretty people might have AIDS!”

Ayaa

I FINALLY found an Acholi dictionary!  Now my language learning will progress tremendously!  It is actually a Lwo dictionary, not an Acholi dictionary, so some word are wrong, but general rules about prefixes and suffixes and indicating possession are correct.  Lwo is the broader language group, and Acholi is more of a local dialect, but the differences can be pretty significant.  Regardless, with my dictionary, I can now say, “Anon buk cok Acoli leb.” Or I finally found a book about Acholi language.

I’m pretty excited about it because my Acholi language classes are frustrating.  Acholis expect you to learn orally, and I need to see a word written before I can really learn it, especially when it is a foreign language. My formal classes are a huge help, but we’re working through a pretty significant language barrier.  Even though our teachers speak English, they speak Africanized British English, so in addition to different words and phrasings, they also cannot understand us unless we use simple words, slow down, and make an effort to enunciate.  This means that we often ask a question and get a response to a different question.  The teachers and students come from different styles of learning, so we American students want charts of prefixes and conjugations, and they are teaching us rote phrases.  Finally, they are teaching us their native tongue, which they never had to learn formally, so something might be spelled amito but pronounced amiro for no particular reason.  There are plenty of frustrating moments and odd translations (such as “So expensive these brassieres why?” instead of “Why does this bracelet cost so much?) where I can practice my new Ugandan attitude and just laugh.

I’ve also learned that Acholi name their children after the situation that they were born into, or their names refer to important events.  This is why there is an Acholi child named Clinton, and Joseph Kony’s son is named George Bush- both after American presidents.  More commonly, they are named for birth circumstances (Oyoo for a male child born on the road, or Adoch to a female child born leg-first).  However, Acholi are also comfortable naming their children things that I would consider deeply private.  Examples:

 Akongo- a female child born to drunkards

Akwero- a girl whose mother is rejected

 Achora- a girl born into a bad marriage

 Komakech- meaning unlucky, given to a male child when one parent suspects the other of cheating

Banya- meaning debt, given to a boy born before his parents’ marriage

Olweny- a boy who was born during war/time of fighting or to parents who like fighting

Anyway, I was able to find a name that fits me- Ayaa, the only girl among many boys J  

You are quite fat

Before we met our homestay families, we were briefed on some basic Acholi culture so we did not commit any fatal faux pas the first night.  It is customary for guests to eat first, and that our host families will encourage us to eat more than our stomachs can hold.  Do not refuse special treatment at first, such as heating bath water, doing laundry, cleaning, special food, because that is a refusal of their hospitality.  Then the homestay coordinator called out one of the students and said, “And if you are like Denton, they will think you are good and wealthy and smart, but if you are thin you are useless and miserly.”  What he did not say directly is that fatness is seen as an ideal- a display of wealth and is somehow associated with being a good person, and that people will comment on your size.

My first night at my homestay, my cousin fed me dinner as soon as I arrived (at 4 pm, not a normal time for them to eat), followed by bananas and roast maize and another dinner at 9 pm.   She said, “We will fatten you up before you go back to America!”  Every meal, each adult member of the family insisted that I eat more.  I serve myself (I am so glad they let me serve myself!) small portions, but that is partly because they feed me very frequently and because they mostly eat starch and protein.  They are quite proud of their food.  “It is all pure, all organic.  Very high quality.”

When I met a friend’s host mother, she told me, “You are quite fat.  How many are there in your family?”  Regardless of whether this is a cultural compliment, it seems rude to American sensibilities.  Ugandans are just more frank than we are- or frank in a different way.  Today I showed my cousin how to use my camera, and somehow we ended up showing pictures to a neighbor.  “This is bad.  This is not a good picture.  It is out of focus!  And this one, not good foreground.  This is good.  Was it evening?  Where is this?”  He felt no qualms about critiquing my photography, despite just having met me.  We ended up having a long conversation about why I am here (which happens quite often), and he said, “You have been learning Acholi?  You must not be trying very hard.” 

And yet, Acholis laugh way more than I do.  My cousin has developed a habit of saying, “Ahhh!  Emalay!” and laughing uproariously.  It was incredibly disconcerting at first, but now I just laugh with her.  My family laughs heartily whenever anyone in the family dances, which happens pretty often.  I’ve stopped wondering if people are laughing at me whenever they speak in Acholi and then belly laugh- it happens much too often for that.  My family did not comment on my serving size for a full day- we’re making progress.  I might not get comfortable with people complimenting my fat, but at least I can laugh with them now.  

Muno Muno!

Every day on my 30 minute walk to school, I attract a lot of attention.  Most people just want to say hello- I get a feeling that they just want to practice their English.  Often very young children will wave from a distance and chant, “Bye! Bye! Bye! Bye!” It happened several times before I understood their accent and also understood that they were trying to greet me. 

I have been trying to adjust to a culture that greets strangers so enthusiastically.  I am much more accustomed to walking past everyone without saying anything.  As time goes on, I try to practice my Acholi- when people say “hello!”  I sometimes respond with Apwoyo or Itye maber?  Meaning hello or how are you?  Responses vary- the younger school children and older adults respond in Acholi, especially if I initiate the interaction.  Older children and young adults often think my response is hilarious, and their laughter follows me as I walk on.  I don’t think they’re laughing at me, I think they just think it’s funny to see a white person (trying to) speak Acholi, and they just laugh more here.

I also have to decide whether every hello or call of muno! (Acholi for white person, often chanted repeatedly by excited children) is friendly, curious, excited, or more derogatory.  Everyone I have asked says that both muno and mzungu (Swahili for white person) just mean white people, with no negative connotation, but usually at least once on my walk I hear a call of “Hey Mzungu!”  that sounds more sarcastic or teasing than others. 

On my third or fourth day walking to school, I responded to everyone that greeted me, and even greeted some people in Acholi first- and they all smiled and responded.  It felt wonderful to interact comfortably, and to finally know some of the social etiquette without too much thought on my part.  I had grown. Then one 5 year old school girl reached out to shake my hand and said hello.  I responded, and she asked me to give her money.  I said no and kept walking, but her question ruined the good vibes that I had accumulated thus far.

There is a very common perception that munos have a lot of money, with pretty good reason.  Most people who distributed aid during the conflict were white, and we have enough money to travel here.  People have a pretty idealized conception of America (have you even heard of someone not eating, not because they do not want to, but because they do not have food?  Have you ever met someone that did not have the money to finish school?).  And a dollar can buy so much more here than it can at home (I paid $1.25 for a motorcycle taxi across town, $.50 for two avocados bigger than both of my fists, and lunch at a that locals go to is under $2) that travellers often spend what Ugandans consider to be a lot of money without hesitation. 

I think Acholi culture is just more honest and direct in a lot of ways, and many munos might just give people money or whatever food they ask for.   I don’t, and I haven’t thought much about it, but mostly I feel the same about it here as I do in America- I don’t mind giving people things that I don’t want/need, especially if I have a relationship with them, but I’m not going to give people things on the street.  Me handing out money isn’t going to change the huge wealth imbalance between my country and theirs- it will only further the perception that munos have a lot of money.

To some people, I am quickly becoming more than an anonymous muno.  When my 3 year old host brother called me muno, my host mother said very emphatically, “Ah, ah! Her name is NOT muno.  Her name is Emily.”  The people that live near my school have learned in the last week that we are learning Acholi, so instead of saying hello or calling us muno, they now ask us in Acholi how the day is or where we are going.  However, to most Acholi, I will forever be muno.  If I can convince my host family that I do not know every white person in Gulu (there are quite a few because of aid organizations and research) and that they are not “my friend,” I will be happy.  

You Are Most Welcome to Uganda

Everywhere we go, everyone says that we are most welcome to Kampala, most welcome to Gulu, most welcome to Uganda, most welcome to Acholi Inn. 

HELLO FROM UGANDA! I arrived late Saturday to the capitol, Kampala, and on Sunday we drove 6 hours to our base for the next month, Gulu.  Today was all kinds of orientation stuff- safety (“do not be worried, but do not be stupid”), health, and language.  I have too many things to say, and not enough time nor internet speed to say them!

This semester I will be learning the Acholi language, one of the Luo languages.   Today we learned at least 17 ways of greeting people.  I’m overwhelmed, but I’m excited because I think learning the language will really help me to understand the culture.  Even after one brief lesson, I have learned that it is rude to walk by someone and not acknowledge them.  If they are working, you say, Apwoyo Toc (pronounced Afoeyo Toch) which means “thank you for your work,” and if your intonation is wrong, you will actually be saying “rabbit work.”

I was super overwhelmed by everything today, but the staff is really encouraging and it’s lovely to be able to speak fast, casual American English with my fellow students.  As my Acholi teacher told us today, “Your courage to come here means you are willing to learn.”

Tomorrow, we tour the town, and then the next day we move in with our host families!