So my time in Kangole has been great. I am becoming more and more Karamojong every day as I gain accoutrements, learn more of the language, eat more new things, accidentally try the ‘wrong’ local beverages, “marry” more people (or at least have people plan for me to marry them), and attempt to eliminate my rat friends from my hut.
I entered my house to what looked like a hurricane. The wind is strong around here and it can come through the four inch opening where the grass roof “meets” the concrete walls, but this seemed excessive. It was dark and with no electricity, I used my “torch” to look around the room. What gave it away was the soy beans that had been strewn across the floor… coming from a sac with ragged edges around a good size hole… obviously chewed open by a rat. Awesome. I continue the search to find various things missing. I have NO idea why, but for some reason rats seem to like bars of soap for a nice snack. Two bars of soap were missing… their wrappers left nicely on the ground. Rat poop was EVERYWHERE… luckily I had had the forethought of leaving my mosquito net down over my bed meaning that it was covered in poop but my bed was not :-) I spent the next 30 minutes or so cleaning up and sweeping the whole place (with my African broom… those ladies have strong backs to stand like that so long!). I then head over to Val’s hut, which contains almost all the food, unlock the door and slowly peer in as it opens. The sight is even worse. Pretty much everything in the hut was on the floor and hair was all over from a Dik-dik skin that the rats had happily discovered hanging within their reach. I cleaned up in the dark for a while, luckily with the help of our friend Joyce who does some work for us and showed up at just the right time, then sat down to have tea. After pouring the water, brewing the tea and taking a sip, something made me turn on my flashlight . I look in the cup and see hair covering the top layer of liquid. EW. Fun night. To say the least… I got a new cup and decided to boil the water in a saucepan that hadn’t been under the dikdik skin, got a piece of chocolate that I’d been preserving from Fred’s visit a while ago and took a deep breath. The relaxing may have been ruined slightly when one of my new friends went darting by on the ledge on the top of the wall, knocking various objects back on the floor. But at least there was no more hair in my tea.
The rest of the time in Kangole involved intermittent rat adventures… including using an overdose of an intense painkiller to get rid of my friends. Only found one dead rat (as I stepped on a hairy carcass in the dark one morning)… I’m hoping a few escaped and died outside… but I know that one is still running around… Tutu unfortunately failed at catching it – we went hunting together one night and found the rat lair… but it was still a bit too quick for us. Hopefully it decided the place was no longer safe and has evacuated by the time we get back.
Much of the rest of the time there was a youth conference going on at the Church of Uganda right outside our gate. I joined in with a few friends and had a great time. My translation was intermittent, but even when it’s not there, the music is great! More and more cultural differences come out every time I’m at a function like this. It’s amazing the attention span of these people. I realize it doesn’t help that I have no idea what they’re saying half the time and that definitely makes it harder but seriously! If we have a conference at home… there may be three sessions – morning, afternoon and evening (and that’s a ‘busy’ conference)… but here, they don’t even have that. They just have CONTINUOUS sessions from 6am until about 9pm. There are “breaks” for meals of course – but not like a relaxing break… they eat and then go back inside. There’s dancing and singing going on while people are getting food because they went in shifts – so they’d always have something going on. There’s no – go back to your room and relax-time like there would be in the states. Craziness. I had to escape many times :-P But I did enjoy it very much! It was about living “a life with a purpose”. MANY people went up and were saved during the conference. It’s also amazing how they do that. They’ll make the alter call… sometimes people go up right away but other times they don’t. If they don’t, they keep calling and eventually someone will make the move. Which is a bit similar, but the difference is that everyone starts cheering for them! At home I feel like everyone wants to make it a private thing – they hardly want people to know and they definitely don’t want to be pointed out like that. But as the cheering starts more and more people will come. And they’re not doing it for the attention – they don’t even acknowledge it – just go up and kneel amongst the others – but they don’t NOT go up because of it, which I think would happen in the states. We tend to do the ‘eyes closed’ alter call where you just raise your hand and no one is supposed to be able to see. I understand it completely cause that’s more my personality – I don’t want a big deal of it – I want to just tell God and let people see a change in me. But they start clapping louder and louder at each individual person! It’s cool. They are bold and unashamed (I think that’s biblical :-P)! So anyway… great time!
Other adventures included my Karamojong accoutrements! My friend Jacinta helped me become a real Karamojong while I was there. Some of the village girls made me a super-cool skirt (see picture hopefully!). It’s very… … … Karamojong! Striped and Plaid all at the same time. Red, green and blue all at the same time. With PLENTY of pleats. And then on top of it you’ve got to wear insane amounts of beads. So I have lots of waist beads and I still have some neck ones to finish making. It was fun :-) And shoes made of tires! Still need to work on my Ngakaramojong fluency… but I’m trying! Keep moving around to Soroti and places with other languages which is unfortunate for language learning!
Otherwise… I discovered/confirmed a new allergy to simsim… or sesame as we call it in the states. Before I came here I knew I didn’t like it, but now I know why! James, our little boy, brought me some simsim balls one morning (they’re just globbed together with sugary stuff… I’m sure they’re very tasty if you like sesame!). Of course, I couldn’t refuse them, especially cause I can’t explain anything to him since he doesn’t know English, so I generously offered to share them with him (he had brought 6). We had breakfast together and I ate two of them. Felt bad leaving the other, but I could only do so much cause my tongue already felt real funny (don’t worry… no anaphylaxis). So we each had two and left two and then we headed to church (me looking “smart” in my new k’jong outfit!). As I sat there my stomach decided to ball up into a giant rock and I sat sweating trying not to leave cause NO ONE leaves (unless they have a screaming baby). I could only make it so long, though. I awkwardly left my translator sitting there with no one to translate to and went to my hut to at least move around a bit. After using the narsty latrine and opting for some pepto bismol (not that there was really anything that helped… just had to do something!) I headed back and awkwardly squeezed into my seat. My translator was up in the choir singing so I avoided any questions that may have occurred – it’s hard to explain things because everything is always misunderstood even if they speak English. I would have had to tell him I had “some malaria” which basically just means you’re sick – it’s either “some flu” or “some malaria”. Flu = sneezey kind of deal and malaria = stomach or fever or headache or a variety of things. But he just welcomed me back when he came back and the service continued. Of course it was ridiculously long anyway – we were there until after 2:00! Service starts at “9:00” – not that that’s true… but it did start around 10 or 10:30, and that’s still four hours! So that was fun. Since I was dying and couldn’t pay attention so much to the sermon (even though it was a dude from Teso and he actually preached in English!) I decided to practice my Karamojong by reading simultaneously my K’jong Bible and my English one. As soon as my translator noticed, he started helping me! (yes… it seems as if I was encouraging not listening to the sermon :-P) He made me read it out load and then the girls next to me started hearing and were laughing and LOVING it. My translator was very impressed with my pronunciation… it’s funny because since so many of them can’t read I think it’s that much crazier that a mzungu can read their language. I just sound it out with the pronunciations I know for each letter and there ya go! So he thought it was great. He told me next time he’s going to have me do one of the readings in the beginning of the service – they’ll read a chapter from both the Old Testament and the NT – cause so many of them can’t read and don’t have Bibles. So I was quite relieved that I’m not going to be around this weekend… it’s true that I may not be that much slower than the ones who do read just because of their ability level. But there would be a LOT of laughter and I’d be in front of a LOT of people not even knowing what I was saying. I feel like that can’t go well. He quizzed me and I read an entire chapter “successfully”. I understood some things? Lol. I may not get much from it, but it’s fun. Anyway… I made it through service… luckily the reading distracted me a bit from the extreme pain in my stomach. After church I went back to my hut and of course it’s not like I could just hide and rest cause there were a bunch of little kids who thought it was way too cool that I was Karamojong and had to hang out and ask me things and play around and pester me (:-P I do love them, but man they’re crazy!). So after a while I recovered… managed to avoid lunch so that helped :-)
Then… that night. Here’s a good story (hopefully I won’t get in too much trouble!). So James came into the hut when I was sitting around with a bag of liquid. It’s not uncommon to package drinks in “peels” – little “white” (clear) bags – so he asked me for a cup so he could let me try. He told me a name for it – which I promptly forgot even after repeating it with him about a thousand times to try to get it right. I quickly poured out a second knowing I was really going to want help drinking whatever this was. It was somehow white… but a bit yellow-ish. I tried to ask him if it was made of milk based on the color… thinking about the previous experience with bongo… he said yes, but after smelling it I was pretty certain that’s not what it was – I was a bit unsure of what the smell was – not terrible – but not necessarily identifiable. I think the milk answer was a translation issue. After taking a sip – still not sure what that taste was – at least it was all liquid this time. A bit of a ‘bite’ after swallowing… I smile, pretending I’m enjoying – it really wasn’t as terrible as many things I’ve had but I really didn’t want to go through the whole cup. I offer it to him and he takes a sip and I motion to have him pour more into the other cup. Unfortunately he left me with about 3/5 of it. I try to ask him again what it’s made of and he motions to the simsim balls left from earlier. OHHHHH great. Two issues with that: One: I had just recovered from my last dose and that explained why my tongue was starting to feel strange again. And two: So… given that I can’t communicate with him there’s not much I could do, but I was pretty sure that I knew what they used simsim for (other than the balls). It is a very common way to make the local brew they drink around here. I had already had a good amount of it (I mean… a good portion of what he gave me – not that it was a lot) and to establish more facts I asked if his mother makes it. She did. Well, that almost confirms it – MANY of the ladies are alcoholics (and men as well, that is) and they often make their living by selling the stuff. So I’m not supposed to drink it… as Christians we don’t like to because of all the issues there are with alcoholism here. I drank slowly while he finished his quite quickly (it’s very possibly his main source of nutrition at home – the kids usually eat the dregs, which do have a lot of nutrients, but in America we generally consider alcohol a bad thing to give a child). I was hoping he’d decide to go home so I could dump the rest out but he just sat there. Joyce came in a little later and started talking to me (in rapid Karamojong/Kiswahili… still don’t understand why people don’t get that I don’t know what they’re saying! And they seem to think it’ll help to switch to Kiswahili which I know even less than K’jong!) Anyway… in all the confusion of her arriving and her daughter coming in and things I managed to pretend to take a last sip and put the cup in the dirty dish basin. I was wondering what would happen if Joyce smelled it cause she’s very involved in the church and would be SHOCKED that I was drinking it. (Though I was quite surprised myself :-P I didn’t exactly want it!) I was actually still a little unsure if that was really what it was… James definitely knew I wasn’t “supposed” to drink it – they all know the Christians don’t drink it… so I wasn’t sure. But she didn’t notice and that was probably good. On his way out, I tried to ask James the name again and he started giggling and looking around at Joyce and people nearby and not saying anything. That’s what really confirmed it. I gave him a look and decided not to press the issue or make a deal of it or he may be too excited that he got me to break the “law”. After that, he took 2000 shillings out of his pocket and asked me if he could come with me to Soroti the next day (I was wondering if he was trying to influence my answer with his choice of beverage). I tried to tell him that his mother would miss him… I couldn’t exactly just kidnap him! Besides, transport is 12,000, so good try :-P Nah, I coulda paid but he couldn’t really explain why he wanted to go or tell me about his parents or anything so what could I do. I left the poor kid in Kangole. I think he just wanted an adventure though, which doesn’t really work because I’ll be going to Kampala and all over after that. Anyway, my stomach decided to do the same thing that night (confirming my allergy diagnosis) only this time I couldn’t get out of dinner and I sat there sweating with the pastor’s family – trying unsuccessfully to escape after eating.
The good thing is that eating with their family has been AMAZING :-) The first day, I was sitting in the circle of 15 chairs. Every one of them filled… one by the mother, Esther, one by me and the rest by a bunch of orphan children the couple has taken in. It’s crazy because the husband is the pastor and they don’t get paid anything so it’s not like they have money. But they’ve decided to somehow help these children… they’re SO sweet… they all help each other and sacrifice for each other and it’s adorable. They all sing together a few worship songs before dinner, and although sometimes not everyone can go to school each year because the fees aren’t there, and they eat posho and beans most every day… God continues to provide. They love each other and support each other through their very tough circumstances. I really enjoyed being with them. Also… that first day they were chatting and my friend Jacinta turns to me and asks me if she’s fat. There is no question here that I find harder to answer. I have no idea what to say. I gave up and told her what I thought. I said “I have NO idea how to answer that question! In America if I said yes that would be the biggest insult ever, but here… if I say no I think it’s the same deal?!” So that sparked an entire conversation – they were very intrigued – which was SO good. “why don’t you like fat people???” lol. Some fun things to explain… but in the end they understood that I’m not supposed to eat so much!!!!! They let me serve myself and take the portions I wanted!!!!! It was awesome. I did get questioned once in a while – “don’t you want more?!” And I would say “Well, I’m quite satisfied, but it was so good I may have to take a little more” and since I was taking very small portions ( :-) ) I still wouldn’t be dying of full-ness at the end! And they would know I loved them :-) So that worked out well. Unfortunately that conversation doesn’t really work out some places. Especially the villages.
Anyway… I’m going to stop here because this is SO long! Sorry!!! Thank you, God bless you, love you, miss you all!
One and a half months!!!! CRAZY. I’m getting really excited :-D
About Me
- Heidi
- I just graduated from undergrad with an Animal Science degree from Cornell University in May 2010. I decided to commit a year before vet school to do veterinary missions work in Africa through Christian Veterinary Mission. I am working with Dr. Val Shean for about 8 months with the Karamojong tribe of NE Uganda. I am currently applying to vet schools and praying to start next Fall!
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
A Village Reunion...
I spent this past weekend in the village with Dr. Moses and his family. He has two adorable little girls named Mercy (5) and Joy (2) and his wife Christine who is very pregnant with their third child. We were in Christine’s village about an hour away from Soroti for something like a family reunion. They speak Kumam in those parts so I was learning language number five or so of this trip (plus a few words from some other languages). We had a great time, but as usual I have some stories to bring out of the time. I was the only Mzungu there of maybe about 60 people… I’m getting used to these ratios these days with Dr. Val out of the country. And it will only be exaggerated more as of tomorrow when I go up to Kangole where a total of… ummm… ZERO other mzungus stay :-P Luckily, Dr. Moses has even been to the USA, so it’s not too hard to communicate – at least he’s around to help me when needed (until tomorrow :-P)! I have discovered more and more how much I LOVE learning other languages, though. It makes everyone SO happy when you can even say a word in their language – just the effort is a huge deal to them. So if you make an attempt (even if feeble :-P) to know the language then they love you even more than they did to begin with! So my Kumam vocabulary may be small – hardly in the double digits probably, but it’s amazing how often you can use the same word if that’s the only one you know :-P
So… on to the food stories I think. As usual, we got a late start when we intended to get to the village in the afternoon. We ended up getting there after dark – maybe around 8:00. After greeting the family members we moved into the house to have dinner and get some tea or the like. I went outside to bathe due to the fact that Joy had “susued” – don’t know how to spell that word – all over my lap. To explain briefly… around here, we don’t exactly use diapers for our babies. They just kinda go when they gotta go… on your lap or not. So I was a bit damp and smelly (Omi, that skirt doesn’t quite smell like you anymore :-P) and decided to bathe before dinner so I could change first. Afterwards… I was not aware that meal #1 was an appetizer to meal #2, but of course I was not allowed to end there and had quite the excess of food. After dinner was the real adventure, though. Now you know how bad that glass of milk was for me… I do have to say that was actually worse than this, but that’s only because that time I had to drink the whole thing… this time I was “just tasting”. In other words, I was expected to drink the whole thing and they were probably disappointed that I didn’t, but it was a bit more conducive to giving in and I just had to do so considering throwing up would probably have been more insulting. So this little refresher is called “Bongo”, which they translate as “sour milk”. Pretty self-explanatory… basically what they do is take a bunch of milk –fresh from the cow most the time – and they put it in a jerrican to let it sit for a whiiiile and then shake it. Once it is the right amount of chunkiness, they pour it into a glass, add some sugar and serve! Pretty simple… feel free to try it at home. As I took my first (and almost last) sip, the texture was by far the worst part. There’s the watery aspect that runs over your tongue initially. Then there’s the grainy part that comes next… and then the chunks that you almost have to chew or just swallow like a pill. I think I went for the latter. It was quite an experience. I think I will eat pretty much anything I find in the US, and I think I’ll even like it at this point. It’s funny… I even like fish now. If you know me, that’s just CRAZY, but I’m usually happy when I see that’s what is for dinner because… what are my other possibilities?!! Definitely safer than MANY options. So my horizons are broadening every day :-P
The next morning was another one of my favorites here. A GIGANTIC plate of liver and posho! When liver is served for dinner it’s one thing… I can almost handle it, though it’s still not exactly my first choice. But… breakfast?!! Oh my goodness. That was literally more liver than I’ve ever eaten “at a go”… and then she added another scoop (except maybe the still-horrifying experience of leberkaese in Germany – crunchiness included… still don’t know why there were little hard parts). All I have to say is… what happened to roasted ground-nuts or a boiled egg?!!
That day (Saturday) was the day of the reunion. Dr. Moses’ family is from a village not so far away (though pretty far when everyone’s coming on foot or by bicycle) and there were many relatives joining us at the house. It’s pretty cool because the tradition here is that the in-laws aren’t allowed to interact with each other. I’ve been told it’s sort of a respect thing but that still doesn’t make any sense to me based on the rest of this culture. Dr. Moses is ‘not allowed’ by the culture to greet his in-laws – not even a handshake let alone a hug; and Christine should be the same with her in-laws. But, this is cool, because this is the only family I’ve seen do this… since they come from a Christian home, the parents have decided that they don’t think that’s right. Christine’s mother was speaking to the group and brought Dr. Moses up and shook his hand to make the point. You can tell it’s still a bit hard for the fathers – they still hesitate automatically, but they have decided it’s okay and even they greet each other.
The reunion was an interesting concept… I wasn’t sure what to expect initially – I didn’t even know who was coming or what was going on. All the communication is usually in Kumam and they often don’t realize that by the end I’ve gotten nothing out of the conversation :-P (hmmmm sounds like some certain Spanish-speaking friends of mine… :-P) So I just go with it as time goes on and usually I figure things out by the end (more like ‘at the end’)! There was a huge “tent” set up… with two tarp(olin)s attached to trees and covering an area. So on Saturday we spent the morning blowing up lots of balloons, setting up chairs and decorating the place (with briiight clashing colors of course). People started arriving around 12 or 1:00. There was a small choir from the local church who was there – all dressed in blue looking uniform and with two really cool locally made drums and an udungu which looks a bit like a small harp but I think sounds a bit like a banjo… lol, I dunno :-P Anyway, lots of family then arrived as well as some pastors and even some government leaders or candidates there to campaign (at a family reunion! Isn’t that crazy?!!) (I think some were family and some weren’t). So essentially the entire day was spent with each person introducing themselves and their family. One of the men would stand up front and call to the people from his clan. They would introduce themselves and their wife/husband and children, sometimes speak for a few minutes (sometimes more than a few minutes) and then sit down. Some people, I’m pretty sure, ended up introducing themselves multiple times… I don’t know what they were saying because it was all Kumam but that lasted a total of literally about four or five hours. Every once in a while the choir would sing a song. They sang for a bit in the beginning and danced and things and that was awesome. Then in between clans they would sometimes sing a song. We ate “lunch” at about 6:00 and then people mostly sat around and chatted. They had a generator there (Christine’s family stays in Entebbe and works from there… they’re doing pretty well financially compared to most the people in the village, so this celebration was quite elaborate comparatively) so there was a small TV playing a Nigerian comedy in front of the whole group of people. The kids were all sitting on the floor before it watching intently. (TV is SUCH an exciting thing for them… and even the adults)
They had slaughtered a cow in the morning for the gathering, so we ate boiled meat, fried meat, lots of internal organs and things, and some fish along with our Kworn (same as Atapa if I’ve mentioned that… it’s a sticky sticky starch made of millet and cassava flour), posho and rice. Of course, all eaten with your fingers (well… hands.). I went easy on myself because I wasn’t being watched so intently by anyone besides Dr. Moses and he’s more understanding of the American diet than anyone here, so I actually managed to avoid the innards… until dinner. Since lunch was at 6:00, that means dinner was at about 10:00. I knew it would happen and I thought about escaping to go to sleep, but I knew that I was just kidding myself because they would only wake me up to go eat dinner (I’m not even kidding). So I stayed up until I was served my dinner. Earlier in the day I had gone over to check out the cow slaughtering deal and encountered the rinsing of the omasum. Oh so appetizing. I thought about how I may have to eat some of that… by the end of the rinsing, it was close to just as green/brown as when it started – it’s hard to get between all the folds of the omasum – the cow’s third stomach compartment that can be identified by folds that make it look like a book. So I was not surprised at dinner to find some reticulum on my plate. I’m not sure what’s better… reticulum or omasum… but I don’t think it makes so much of a difference. The reticulum is identified by the honeycomb raised pattern on the inside. Every meal I take around here has become less of an ordeal, though, even if the cuisine is just as questionable. I tried my reticulum… hid some under my leftover rice… then drank my third bottle of soda I was “encouraged” to take (with no actual choice). Almost routine now!
Breakfast on Sunday was quite a relief. They actually made popcorn in the morning, which I’ve never seen them do, and it was SO good!!! Breakfast consisted of a boiled egg and some bread along with dry tea so that was completely do-able. I played with the babies for a while and then some of us went off to church. Christine stayed around because Joy hadn’t exactly slept the night before… meaning the four (five if the baby in Christine’s belly counts) of us who were sharing two twin-sized mattresses pushed together on the floor didn’t exactly sleep much, either. (Except Mercy seems to be used to her sister screaming by now). So she stayed back to rest while I walked with a few local family members, Mercy, Joy and Judith – a girl who helps take care of the kids. The church was “just near” by African standards, so maybe a 20 minute walk… with Joy very attached to me, I carried her while memorizing the twisting path through the village. I led the way on the walk home to see if I’d make it and our “guide” was very impressed that I didn’t get lost!
Church was really nice. It took place in a building with mud walls and a grass-thatched roof – the walls were painted with some pictures of Jesus and some unidentifiable figures (by the mzungu eye at least). I “got to” sit up front so they could all watch me (try not to doze off) the entire time :-P (I was “praying”, right Niells/Mr. D?! :-P) because it was such a big exciting thing to have a mzungu there. After introducing myself, I sat down and Joy slept on my lap while one of the sons of the family preached. He spoke in English which was really nice :-) with a translator into Kumam. After the preaching we had some singing and the Pastor called people up for if they needed prayer. It was neat because I’ve actually been surprised that I haven’t seen more of that kind of thing - people really praying with the Spirit and praying for healing and things like that. In Honduras we saw a LOT of that… it was a more “spiritual” culture in general – partially shown in all the witchcraft and things like that. So since that’s so prevalent here, I expected to see it more even in the churches. I have seen a bit… definitely more than in America, but not nearly as much as we experienced in Honduras. So it was nice to see people really praying in the Spirit and trusting God to heal even. After the service, I “talked” to a few people… by that I mean, used my three Kumam phrases and made everyone laugh, and then we headed back to the home. Once we reached, Moses and I went into the town to bring back the chairs that were rented from the Catholic mission there. I met the priest and had an entertaining chat about Connecticut and NYC because he had been there. I also discovered he’d been to Germany! That was neat… I attempted to speak German with him but was sad to find out he didn’t know any :-P We had a good time, though. After returning, we headed back to Soroti over the nonexistent roads, crammed in the back seat with four adults and three children – not unusual!
It really was a great time. Christine’s parents are amazing… her mom especially was SO funny. She started dragging me by my hand one time and brought me over to the cooking area. There was a gigantic pot there where a lady was “mingling” posho and she shoved me towards her to take over the job… she wanted me to learn to mingle. I grabbed the gigantic mingling spoon and made my feeble effort to do it as the 20 or so people surrounding were hysterical laughing (along with me :-P). After about 30 seconds or probably less, I ran away yelling about how I didn’t want to burn it and ruin the whole pot of posho and made the lady take over again. So it was extremely entertaining… she also told me I was going to come back to the village… that I would marry someone from the family - when I asked her who she said she would show me the next day, so we’ll see what happens. She planned out my whole life! Lol
So I made many new friends as usual! I really enjoy being in the villages… in the middle of the bush, no electricity or running water, etc… so I’m also looking forward to going up to Kangole :-)
Next point… point of prayer I guess. I had told you all I would find out about vet school this month. It turns out that I heard from Cornell and I won’t find out the final decision until possibly April at the latest. I was put on the alternate list… so basically God wants to keep testing my trust in Him! Haha. I know that He will work everything out… no matter which way that goes. I’m definitely still praying that a spot opens up but I do see that He’s working… sometimes He wants to make it so we just have to follow Him step by step. It’s funny because I had sort of two vague alternative plans… to go to school or to work for a year. And either one was okay… of course I would prefer school, but I’d be fine with working for a year as well. But I had never thought that there could be an in between. I had figured once I go the decision I could start planning my summer – looking into where to work if that was the case, etc, etc… But sometimes God likes to take that control away I think :-P There is now no option… I can’t plan anything! And I think that’s where He wants me for now… just doing what I’m doing and not worrying about the rest. Trusting that He will open doors and close them as they come. So please keep the final decision in prayer and pray that I can continue to just blindly follow God, knowing He’s got the future figured out and His plan is best!!
As much as I love it here I get more and more excited every day to come home and see you guys! Love you LOTS.
And NIELLY hurry up and get to Africaaaa already!!!!!! I can’t wait to see you on the other side of the WORLD :-D
Heidi
So… on to the food stories I think. As usual, we got a late start when we intended to get to the village in the afternoon. We ended up getting there after dark – maybe around 8:00. After greeting the family members we moved into the house to have dinner and get some tea or the like. I went outside to bathe due to the fact that Joy had “susued” – don’t know how to spell that word – all over my lap. To explain briefly… around here, we don’t exactly use diapers for our babies. They just kinda go when they gotta go… on your lap or not. So I was a bit damp and smelly (Omi, that skirt doesn’t quite smell like you anymore :-P) and decided to bathe before dinner so I could change first. Afterwards… I was not aware that meal #1 was an appetizer to meal #2, but of course I was not allowed to end there and had quite the excess of food. After dinner was the real adventure, though. Now you know how bad that glass of milk was for me… I do have to say that was actually worse than this, but that’s only because that time I had to drink the whole thing… this time I was “just tasting”. In other words, I was expected to drink the whole thing and they were probably disappointed that I didn’t, but it was a bit more conducive to giving in and I just had to do so considering throwing up would probably have been more insulting. So this little refresher is called “Bongo”, which they translate as “sour milk”. Pretty self-explanatory… basically what they do is take a bunch of milk –fresh from the cow most the time – and they put it in a jerrican to let it sit for a whiiiile and then shake it. Once it is the right amount of chunkiness, they pour it into a glass, add some sugar and serve! Pretty simple… feel free to try it at home. As I took my first (and almost last) sip, the texture was by far the worst part. There’s the watery aspect that runs over your tongue initially. Then there’s the grainy part that comes next… and then the chunks that you almost have to chew or just swallow like a pill. I think I went for the latter. It was quite an experience. I think I will eat pretty much anything I find in the US, and I think I’ll even like it at this point. It’s funny… I even like fish now. If you know me, that’s just CRAZY, but I’m usually happy when I see that’s what is for dinner because… what are my other possibilities?!! Definitely safer than MANY options. So my horizons are broadening every day :-P
The next morning was another one of my favorites here. A GIGANTIC plate of liver and posho! When liver is served for dinner it’s one thing… I can almost handle it, though it’s still not exactly my first choice. But… breakfast?!! Oh my goodness. That was literally more liver than I’ve ever eaten “at a go”… and then she added another scoop (except maybe the still-horrifying experience of leberkaese in Germany – crunchiness included… still don’t know why there were little hard parts). All I have to say is… what happened to roasted ground-nuts or a boiled egg?!!
That day (Saturday) was the day of the reunion. Dr. Moses’ family is from a village not so far away (though pretty far when everyone’s coming on foot or by bicycle) and there were many relatives joining us at the house. It’s pretty cool because the tradition here is that the in-laws aren’t allowed to interact with each other. I’ve been told it’s sort of a respect thing but that still doesn’t make any sense to me based on the rest of this culture. Dr. Moses is ‘not allowed’ by the culture to greet his in-laws – not even a handshake let alone a hug; and Christine should be the same with her in-laws. But, this is cool, because this is the only family I’ve seen do this… since they come from a Christian home, the parents have decided that they don’t think that’s right. Christine’s mother was speaking to the group and brought Dr. Moses up and shook his hand to make the point. You can tell it’s still a bit hard for the fathers – they still hesitate automatically, but they have decided it’s okay and even they greet each other.
The reunion was an interesting concept… I wasn’t sure what to expect initially – I didn’t even know who was coming or what was going on. All the communication is usually in Kumam and they often don’t realize that by the end I’ve gotten nothing out of the conversation :-P (hmmmm sounds like some certain Spanish-speaking friends of mine… :-P) So I just go with it as time goes on and usually I figure things out by the end (more like ‘at the end’)! There was a huge “tent” set up… with two tarp(olin)s attached to trees and covering an area. So on Saturday we spent the morning blowing up lots of balloons, setting up chairs and decorating the place (with briiight clashing colors of course). People started arriving around 12 or 1:00. There was a small choir from the local church who was there – all dressed in blue looking uniform and with two really cool locally made drums and an udungu which looks a bit like a small harp but I think sounds a bit like a banjo… lol, I dunno :-P Anyway, lots of family then arrived as well as some pastors and even some government leaders or candidates there to campaign (at a family reunion! Isn’t that crazy?!!) (I think some were family and some weren’t). So essentially the entire day was spent with each person introducing themselves and their family. One of the men would stand up front and call to the people from his clan. They would introduce themselves and their wife/husband and children, sometimes speak for a few minutes (sometimes more than a few minutes) and then sit down. Some people, I’m pretty sure, ended up introducing themselves multiple times… I don’t know what they were saying because it was all Kumam but that lasted a total of literally about four or five hours. Every once in a while the choir would sing a song. They sang for a bit in the beginning and danced and things and that was awesome. Then in between clans they would sometimes sing a song. We ate “lunch” at about 6:00 and then people mostly sat around and chatted. They had a generator there (Christine’s family stays in Entebbe and works from there… they’re doing pretty well financially compared to most the people in the village, so this celebration was quite elaborate comparatively) so there was a small TV playing a Nigerian comedy in front of the whole group of people. The kids were all sitting on the floor before it watching intently. (TV is SUCH an exciting thing for them… and even the adults)
They had slaughtered a cow in the morning for the gathering, so we ate boiled meat, fried meat, lots of internal organs and things, and some fish along with our Kworn (same as Atapa if I’ve mentioned that… it’s a sticky sticky starch made of millet and cassava flour), posho and rice. Of course, all eaten with your fingers (well… hands.). I went easy on myself because I wasn’t being watched so intently by anyone besides Dr. Moses and he’s more understanding of the American diet than anyone here, so I actually managed to avoid the innards… until dinner. Since lunch was at 6:00, that means dinner was at about 10:00. I knew it would happen and I thought about escaping to go to sleep, but I knew that I was just kidding myself because they would only wake me up to go eat dinner (I’m not even kidding). So I stayed up until I was served my dinner. Earlier in the day I had gone over to check out the cow slaughtering deal and encountered the rinsing of the omasum. Oh so appetizing. I thought about how I may have to eat some of that… by the end of the rinsing, it was close to just as green/brown as when it started – it’s hard to get between all the folds of the omasum – the cow’s third stomach compartment that can be identified by folds that make it look like a book. So I was not surprised at dinner to find some reticulum on my plate. I’m not sure what’s better… reticulum or omasum… but I don’t think it makes so much of a difference. The reticulum is identified by the honeycomb raised pattern on the inside. Every meal I take around here has become less of an ordeal, though, even if the cuisine is just as questionable. I tried my reticulum… hid some under my leftover rice… then drank my third bottle of soda I was “encouraged” to take (with no actual choice). Almost routine now!
Breakfast on Sunday was quite a relief. They actually made popcorn in the morning, which I’ve never seen them do, and it was SO good!!! Breakfast consisted of a boiled egg and some bread along with dry tea so that was completely do-able. I played with the babies for a while and then some of us went off to church. Christine stayed around because Joy hadn’t exactly slept the night before… meaning the four (five if the baby in Christine’s belly counts) of us who were sharing two twin-sized mattresses pushed together on the floor didn’t exactly sleep much, either. (Except Mercy seems to be used to her sister screaming by now). So she stayed back to rest while I walked with a few local family members, Mercy, Joy and Judith – a girl who helps take care of the kids. The church was “just near” by African standards, so maybe a 20 minute walk… with Joy very attached to me, I carried her while memorizing the twisting path through the village. I led the way on the walk home to see if I’d make it and our “guide” was very impressed that I didn’t get lost!
Church was really nice. It took place in a building with mud walls and a grass-thatched roof – the walls were painted with some pictures of Jesus and some unidentifiable figures (by the mzungu eye at least). I “got to” sit up front so they could all watch me (try not to doze off) the entire time :-P (I was “praying”, right Niells/Mr. D?! :-P) because it was such a big exciting thing to have a mzungu there. After introducing myself, I sat down and Joy slept on my lap while one of the sons of the family preached. He spoke in English which was really nice :-) with a translator into Kumam. After the preaching we had some singing and the Pastor called people up for if they needed prayer. It was neat because I’ve actually been surprised that I haven’t seen more of that kind of thing - people really praying with the Spirit and praying for healing and things like that. In Honduras we saw a LOT of that… it was a more “spiritual” culture in general – partially shown in all the witchcraft and things like that. So since that’s so prevalent here, I expected to see it more even in the churches. I have seen a bit… definitely more than in America, but not nearly as much as we experienced in Honduras. So it was nice to see people really praying in the Spirit and trusting God to heal even. After the service, I “talked” to a few people… by that I mean, used my three Kumam phrases and made everyone laugh, and then we headed back to the home. Once we reached, Moses and I went into the town to bring back the chairs that were rented from the Catholic mission there. I met the priest and had an entertaining chat about Connecticut and NYC because he had been there. I also discovered he’d been to Germany! That was neat… I attempted to speak German with him but was sad to find out he didn’t know any :-P We had a good time, though. After returning, we headed back to Soroti over the nonexistent roads, crammed in the back seat with four adults and three children – not unusual!
It really was a great time. Christine’s parents are amazing… her mom especially was SO funny. She started dragging me by my hand one time and brought me over to the cooking area. There was a gigantic pot there where a lady was “mingling” posho and she shoved me towards her to take over the job… she wanted me to learn to mingle. I grabbed the gigantic mingling spoon and made my feeble effort to do it as the 20 or so people surrounding were hysterical laughing (along with me :-P). After about 30 seconds or probably less, I ran away yelling about how I didn’t want to burn it and ruin the whole pot of posho and made the lady take over again. So it was extremely entertaining… she also told me I was going to come back to the village… that I would marry someone from the family - when I asked her who she said she would show me the next day, so we’ll see what happens. She planned out my whole life! Lol
So I made many new friends as usual! I really enjoy being in the villages… in the middle of the bush, no electricity or running water, etc… so I’m also looking forward to going up to Kangole :-)
Next point… point of prayer I guess. I had told you all I would find out about vet school this month. It turns out that I heard from Cornell and I won’t find out the final decision until possibly April at the latest. I was put on the alternate list… so basically God wants to keep testing my trust in Him! Haha. I know that He will work everything out… no matter which way that goes. I’m definitely still praying that a spot opens up but I do see that He’s working… sometimes He wants to make it so we just have to follow Him step by step. It’s funny because I had sort of two vague alternative plans… to go to school or to work for a year. And either one was okay… of course I would prefer school, but I’d be fine with working for a year as well. But I had never thought that there could be an in between. I had figured once I go the decision I could start planning my summer – looking into where to work if that was the case, etc, etc… But sometimes God likes to take that control away I think :-P There is now no option… I can’t plan anything! And I think that’s where He wants me for now… just doing what I’m doing and not worrying about the rest. Trusting that He will open doors and close them as they come. So please keep the final decision in prayer and pray that I can continue to just blindly follow God, knowing He’s got the future figured out and His plan is best!!
As much as I love it here I get more and more excited every day to come home and see you guys! Love you LOTS.
And NIELLY hurry up and get to Africaaaa already!!!!!! I can’t wait to see you on the other side of the WORLD :-D
Heidi
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Christmas in Kapchorwa
So I just got back to Soroti after spending a week, including Christmas, in the mountains by Sipi Falls. It’s good to see a mirror again now that I’m back… though a little scary after a week without :-P It’s interesting the things you miss. The people of Kapchorwa are part of the Sabiny tribe, so an entirely new culture, new language and everything. I stayed with a family in the middle of the village. There are a good amount of tourists in Sipi because of the beautiful waterfalls and mountains and more comfortable climate than Karamoja, but being the only Mzungu in the real village, I still got many looks and comments as I learned to be a true African! I still have some work to do on my balancing skills, though I did get a good bit of practice. I can at least make a half-decent Ngwatiet to provide as a buffer between my scalp and bunch of matoke or jerrican of water. Need to start working out my neck muscles, though… didn’t get to work up to the full size Jerrican like the village kids do! I practiced washing clothes… without a washer and drier! :-P The people thought it was HILARIOUS seeing a Mzungu (Mzungionet in Kupsabiny) washing clothes… not that I knew what they were saying, but when they burst into laughter I got the hint… that’s a pretty universal language. The Sabiny have some other interesting traditions… I got to witness a traditional ceremony held every two years… they have multiple ceremonies at the end of the year to initiate boys into manhood. I’m not sure you really want the details, but I’ll give you the quick version. Basically it’s a public circumcision ceremony… they stand in front of a HUGE crowd and have to keep their faces completely stoic as they’re cut… and they really want you to take pictures while you’re there – it’s a huge day for these boys – very exciting (despite the extreme pain) so they want to show off. So now I have a file on my computer under Kapchorwa called “R-Rated” so I don’t show it to the wrong crowd :-P Then after they become men… this is the funniest part in my opinion… they wear skirts for about three weeks because it’s more comfortable. And it’s not like they wear a wrap or something or even a plain colored not-so-girly skirt. I think they pick their little sister’s favorite skirt… with all the lace and bright pink or yellow they can find. It’s SO funny to see them walking down the streets like that – now that they’ve become men. So I saw two of those ceremonies… I think that may be enough for my lifetime :-P
Everyone always likes to know about food, so let’s see… Main dish in Kapchorwa is Matoke. I learned how to peel and cook them! Now I just need to find them for the family in the states. So the most common meal was matoke and beans. For Christmas, I (in Dr. Val’s honor) was given a chicken… and because it would have been a bit much for me to eat, we slaughtered it and cooked it up for Christmas feast-ing. We also had a treat of rice and chapatis for Christmas. Even sodas! The family is a typical village family… meaning they don’t have much… they live off of what they grow and the little money that comes in – I’m assuming mainly from the older sons and they probably sell some of the matoke and bananas they grow. So of course I was fed an insane amount every day because no matter how much they have, their priorities are ALWAYS taking care of the visitors. Family members came in and out all the time… between the mother’s 8 siblings and allllll their children, there is a lot of family around. For most people, I didn’t have any horrifying eating experiences (apart from food quantities)… but if you know me well enough, there was one REAL rough day. So Ali (one of the older sons in the family) and I were going to go visit the late Uncle’s place to see his wife and anyone who was around in Kapchorwa town. We strategically decided to go unannounced so they wouldn’t need to prepare a huge meal and get ready for visitors… it’s not rude to just drop by around here – it was very welcomed. That way they would just make some tea and we could chat a little while and then head home. So we ate lunch at home and then headed out around 3:30. We arrived and greeted the Aunt who was very excited to see us… and she led us inside the house. She left us in the living room and we looked at a photo album that was on the table. We could hear her in the kitchen… figuring she was getting the tea together. About 15 minutes later she comes out with two plates heaped with matoke and beans and cabbage. Of course I was already stuffed from first lunch about an hour ago, but I had practiced enough to keep all the food down anyway. But the bigger issue came next. She went back into the kitchen and came out with two tall glasses of MILK. Dad… as you understand… this was quite an issue. I looked at the milky white in my glass… actually it had a bit of a yellow tinge because it was straight from the cow… luckily boiled… but completely whole. Praying that I would survive this venture, I tackled the meal first… waiting for Ali to make the first move on his glass of milk… maybe with some tiny unfounded hope that I wouldn’t have to face it… maybe he wouldn’t drink it either… or he’d only drink a little and I could get away with just a sip. After all the food was gone (well, as much as would possibly fit in my stomach… and after getting yelled at (by Heidi definition) for not eating more… story of my life here!)… Ali picked up his glass of milk and took a big gulp. Watching was bad enough but I knew my turn was next. Jealous of the Ugandan talent of drinking half the glass in one sip, I faced to tackle the opposition. I try to look at the wall in front of me and hold my breath so as not to smell it as the milk approaches my lips. I take three sips… as big as I could manage… as I hid my tongue at the bottom of my mouth so as not to taste it. I put the glass down… feeling, at first, triumphant in managing my three sips… and then quite disappointed as I see that the level of the glass does not appear to have moved more than a centimeter. Next time I go for four sips. I mistakenly look into the glass and see the oily film forming on the side of the glass from the crazy amount of fat meant to nourish a growing baby calf and not a completely weaned human mammal that needs no more growing. Anyway… after painstakingly downing the rest of the glass and trying not to breathe too hard to prevent tasting the milk on my breath, I thanked God for helping me get it down (and trusted that I would be able to keep it down). I thought it was over at that point. I was about to explode and there was nothing to distract me because they were speaking in Kupsabiny the whole time and I had no idea what was going on. But the Aunt left again and I heard soda bottles clinking away from the other room. Oh my goodness. After finishing a Fanta and chatting a little more it was time to leave. I told Ali I would run home (about 14 km) but he wouldn’t let me :-P considering it would be dark by the time I got back and that’s bad news. So we hopped on the motorcycle, me sitting sideways in my skirt of course (Alex… I can ride yours like that, right?!!), and headed back with me doing driveby diagnoses of the cows to entertain myself as we passed. I saw some lumpy skin disease, lots of worms, some sun sensitivity from lantana poisoning, a couple birth conformational defects… some other things and a good amount of impressively healthy cows (especially as compared to Karamoja!).
The family I was staying with owns a few cows so I brought along medicines to treat them and the neighbors animals. Most were very healthy; we had one day when I treated a couple hundred animals I think. Anytime you treat one, fifteen more come and mob around to have their animals treated too so it adds up. It was fun… I mostly dewormed and sprayed for ticks, but there were a few sick ones, too. I trimmed some goat hooves and practiced pig restraint. I have discovered my new LEAST favorite animal. Some of you may know that I really don’t like loud noises… and pigs… are SO loud. As soon as you grab hold of them they start squealing - it’s more like screaming though. I guess the owners don’t have to do much with them normally because they don’t really know how to hold them, making the process painstakingly long. Their usual method was to hold the ears and the pig would pull back and break my eardrums as I tried to inject it. It usually worked out – they didn’t bring ropes most the time so there wasn’t really anything else you could do – those things are STRONG! So I would go away with my ears ringing, disliking pigs more every time I treated one. But it was cool to be able to help out the community. So in the end, I had a great time in Kapchorwa. I missed home and all the traditions I’m used to, but it was fun to see what it’s like in another country. See everyone all dressed up and the kids running around, so excited on Christmas Eve even though by American standards they won’t be getting anything good for Christmas. For them it was just a day to celebrate… with or without presents. It’s nice to see a place where the priorities are more in order :-) On Christmas, I went to church with one of the girls, Cherop, who brought me to a Catholic Church. It was interesting :-P The next day I went to the church Ali goes to, which is more what I’m used to. They had some people visiting from Kenya who were AMAZING (Nielly… I can’t wait till you get here!!!! :-P). The worship was awesome – I LOVE watching people dancing and excited and these guys were really good at getting everyone going (not that it takes much around here) :-P I just couldn’t stop smiling… it’s awesome how much the music can reach you even when you don’t know what they’re saying!
So now I’m back in Soroti… it’s been pretty relaxing around here except for the numerous marriage offers I’ve had to escape from. I’ve been careful about giving out my phone number, but not careful enough. I’m stepping up to the next level of refusal. Sometimes they beg SO much I just give in, but not anymore! 3AM phone calls are not normally appreciated… especially when they’re to ask me to come to their village with them. New Years was neat – the churches all get together and have a big “overnight”. There was a huge tent outside next to one of the churches to create added space. I went with Dr. Moses, his wife, nephew/my friend and some other kid who used to be Muslim until a couple days before Christmas (it’s cool… he’s really excited about God and his first Christmas! He even wanted to give his testimony and everything.)… we didn’t’ stay the WHOLE night – just from about 10 until 2. There was lots of singing and some preaching… a really cool way to start the year off! Dr. Moses said he thought it was so strange that when he was in the states the churches didn’t do anything for New Years. It’s very common here that they do overnights, which I think is really cool. I’ll be in this area for another week or so and then I head up to Kangole to live in my little hut. I’m excited about that… I’ll have to put my new cooking skills into action I think as pretty much the only thing to eat there is beans and posho. So that’ll be fun :-P
I hope you all had a WONDERFUL Christmas and a great New Year. Happy 2011!!!!! Keep praying for my vet school admission if you don’t mind… I find out sometime this month!!! AH!
Only 2.5 months until I come back… I miss you guys!
Everyone always likes to know about food, so let’s see… Main dish in Kapchorwa is Matoke. I learned how to peel and cook them! Now I just need to find them for the family in the states. So the most common meal was matoke and beans. For Christmas, I (in Dr. Val’s honor) was given a chicken… and because it would have been a bit much for me to eat, we slaughtered it and cooked it up for Christmas feast-ing. We also had a treat of rice and chapatis for Christmas. Even sodas! The family is a typical village family… meaning they don’t have much… they live off of what they grow and the little money that comes in – I’m assuming mainly from the older sons and they probably sell some of the matoke and bananas they grow. So of course I was fed an insane amount every day because no matter how much they have, their priorities are ALWAYS taking care of the visitors. Family members came in and out all the time… between the mother’s 8 siblings and allllll their children, there is a lot of family around. For most people, I didn’t have any horrifying eating experiences (apart from food quantities)… but if you know me well enough, there was one REAL rough day. So Ali (one of the older sons in the family) and I were going to go visit the late Uncle’s place to see his wife and anyone who was around in Kapchorwa town. We strategically decided to go unannounced so they wouldn’t need to prepare a huge meal and get ready for visitors… it’s not rude to just drop by around here – it was very welcomed. That way they would just make some tea and we could chat a little while and then head home. So we ate lunch at home and then headed out around 3:30. We arrived and greeted the Aunt who was very excited to see us… and she led us inside the house. She left us in the living room and we looked at a photo album that was on the table. We could hear her in the kitchen… figuring she was getting the tea together. About 15 minutes later she comes out with two plates heaped with matoke and beans and cabbage. Of course I was already stuffed from first lunch about an hour ago, but I had practiced enough to keep all the food down anyway. But the bigger issue came next. She went back into the kitchen and came out with two tall glasses of MILK. Dad… as you understand… this was quite an issue. I looked at the milky white in my glass… actually it had a bit of a yellow tinge because it was straight from the cow… luckily boiled… but completely whole. Praying that I would survive this venture, I tackled the meal first… waiting for Ali to make the first move on his glass of milk… maybe with some tiny unfounded hope that I wouldn’t have to face it… maybe he wouldn’t drink it either… or he’d only drink a little and I could get away with just a sip. After all the food was gone (well, as much as would possibly fit in my stomach… and after getting yelled at (by Heidi definition) for not eating more… story of my life here!)… Ali picked up his glass of milk and took a big gulp. Watching was bad enough but I knew my turn was next. Jealous of the Ugandan talent of drinking half the glass in one sip, I faced to tackle the opposition. I try to look at the wall in front of me and hold my breath so as not to smell it as the milk approaches my lips. I take three sips… as big as I could manage… as I hid my tongue at the bottom of my mouth so as not to taste it. I put the glass down… feeling, at first, triumphant in managing my three sips… and then quite disappointed as I see that the level of the glass does not appear to have moved more than a centimeter. Next time I go for four sips. I mistakenly look into the glass and see the oily film forming on the side of the glass from the crazy amount of fat meant to nourish a growing baby calf and not a completely weaned human mammal that needs no more growing. Anyway… after painstakingly downing the rest of the glass and trying not to breathe too hard to prevent tasting the milk on my breath, I thanked God for helping me get it down (and trusted that I would be able to keep it down). I thought it was over at that point. I was about to explode and there was nothing to distract me because they were speaking in Kupsabiny the whole time and I had no idea what was going on. But the Aunt left again and I heard soda bottles clinking away from the other room. Oh my goodness. After finishing a Fanta and chatting a little more it was time to leave. I told Ali I would run home (about 14 km) but he wouldn’t let me :-P considering it would be dark by the time I got back and that’s bad news. So we hopped on the motorcycle, me sitting sideways in my skirt of course (Alex… I can ride yours like that, right?!!), and headed back with me doing driveby diagnoses of the cows to entertain myself as we passed. I saw some lumpy skin disease, lots of worms, some sun sensitivity from lantana poisoning, a couple birth conformational defects… some other things and a good amount of impressively healthy cows (especially as compared to Karamoja!).
The family I was staying with owns a few cows so I brought along medicines to treat them and the neighbors animals. Most were very healthy; we had one day when I treated a couple hundred animals I think. Anytime you treat one, fifteen more come and mob around to have their animals treated too so it adds up. It was fun… I mostly dewormed and sprayed for ticks, but there were a few sick ones, too. I trimmed some goat hooves and practiced pig restraint. I have discovered my new LEAST favorite animal. Some of you may know that I really don’t like loud noises… and pigs… are SO loud. As soon as you grab hold of them they start squealing - it’s more like screaming though. I guess the owners don’t have to do much with them normally because they don’t really know how to hold them, making the process painstakingly long. Their usual method was to hold the ears and the pig would pull back and break my eardrums as I tried to inject it. It usually worked out – they didn’t bring ropes most the time so there wasn’t really anything else you could do – those things are STRONG! So I would go away with my ears ringing, disliking pigs more every time I treated one. But it was cool to be able to help out the community. So in the end, I had a great time in Kapchorwa. I missed home and all the traditions I’m used to, but it was fun to see what it’s like in another country. See everyone all dressed up and the kids running around, so excited on Christmas Eve even though by American standards they won’t be getting anything good for Christmas. For them it was just a day to celebrate… with or without presents. It’s nice to see a place where the priorities are more in order :-) On Christmas, I went to church with one of the girls, Cherop, who brought me to a Catholic Church. It was interesting :-P The next day I went to the church Ali goes to, which is more what I’m used to. They had some people visiting from Kenya who were AMAZING (Nielly… I can’t wait till you get here!!!! :-P). The worship was awesome – I LOVE watching people dancing and excited and these guys were really good at getting everyone going (not that it takes much around here) :-P I just couldn’t stop smiling… it’s awesome how much the music can reach you even when you don’t know what they’re saying!
So now I’m back in Soroti… it’s been pretty relaxing around here except for the numerous marriage offers I’ve had to escape from. I’ve been careful about giving out my phone number, but not careful enough. I’m stepping up to the next level of refusal. Sometimes they beg SO much I just give in, but not anymore! 3AM phone calls are not normally appreciated… especially when they’re to ask me to come to their village with them. New Years was neat – the churches all get together and have a big “overnight”. There was a huge tent outside next to one of the churches to create added space. I went with Dr. Moses, his wife, nephew/my friend and some other kid who used to be Muslim until a couple days before Christmas (it’s cool… he’s really excited about God and his first Christmas! He even wanted to give his testimony and everything.)… we didn’t’ stay the WHOLE night – just from about 10 until 2. There was lots of singing and some preaching… a really cool way to start the year off! Dr. Moses said he thought it was so strange that when he was in the states the churches didn’t do anything for New Years. It’s very common here that they do overnights, which I think is really cool. I’ll be in this area for another week or so and then I head up to Kangole to live in my little hut. I’m excited about that… I’ll have to put my new cooking skills into action I think as pretty much the only thing to eat there is beans and posho. So that’ll be fun :-P
I hope you all had a WONDERFUL Christmas and a great New Year. Happy 2011!!!!! Keep praying for my vet school admission if you don’t mind… I find out sometime this month!!! AH!
Only 2.5 months until I come back… I miss you guys!
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