More weddings, sleeping in the middle of nowhere and moving out of Maluku

Hey hey hey, it's fat Albert! No, actually it's just me again. Soooo, I promised I would bring some updates from the weekend and introduce Leah to you and seeing as I am a woman of my word, that's exactly what I'm going to do.

 Well last week in a nutshell goes a little something like this: had a food storage meeting with Robby and Moses, visited a school in Musoto to take some photos, had the fifth and supposedly final day of food storage training in Namabasa (but a 6th day has now been scheduled in), had dinner at the Munyosi's and thoroughly enjoyed Grace's culinary skills, said goodbye to Robby who is now on a 6 month sabatical and went to a village wedding. So, more about the wedding...

 I had arranged to meet Rose at the clock tower (centre of town - it's pink too) at 8am, but at 7 something, she called to say that we would meet at 9:30am instead, as there was no water at her place which throws a bit of a spanner in the works of cooking, bathing etc for the morning. So I had breakfast with Leah and took my time getting ready and trying on the traditional outfits Grace had kindly lent me for the occassion. I settled on a purple, white and pinkish patterned one and headed into town where I met Grace, her husband, two of her kids and two of her relatives (nieces I think). We all piled into a taxi...I think there was 17 of us in a 12-seater mini van...and we were on our way to "the village", also known as Amago. Got out at the designated spot about 40 minutes later and spent some time price-haggling with pickies, before jumping on and being driven about 15 minutes off the main road to where the wedding was. We had arrived a little early because Rose had generously made the bride a 'changing dress' for after the ceremony, because she knew the couple didn't have money for such things that would normally come with a Ugandan wedding. The church was just a bunch of tarpaulins attached to large sticks that had been tied together to form a basic support structure. They had tied bunches of yellow flowers to the vertical sticks, as well as the plants lining the path leading to the church, creating an aisle of sorts.

 When we arrived, the only people there were the women who were catering for the lunch – they were sitting on the ground sorting stones and what not out of the rice they were about to cook – and a few random helpers. We wandered around the village for a bit to kill time and Rose passed the dress along to the bride. As the time passed, more and more guests arrived…and then chairs….and then more people….and then the band….and then more people. Eventually there was quite a crowd gathered but still no bridal party! The festivities started anyhow, and the band (made up of locally made instruments) entertained the guests with some songs and a couple of choirs also sang some tunes and danced around. Eventually, the bride and groom arrived maybe around 1pm and I naively thought the ceremony was about to be under way. Well it was….but African style! It literally took at least 10 minutes for the bride and groom to walk down the aisle, inch by inch they made their way to their seats (aka a couch carried in from who knows where). A large choir sang a song that went something like “happy, happy, happy- happy –happy wedding dayyyy” as they walked down the aisle. 

Then everyone was seated and there was some more music from the band…and more songs from choirs and small singing groups…and then some more songs with a bit of dancing…and then introducing ALL the relatives and special friends of the bride and groom (you can only imagine how long that took), which included me having to stand up and greet the entire crowd of probably 400+ people…then there were some more songs….and some more songs…and some talking…and some more songs…and then a sermon…and some more songs and then FINALLY the part where the bride and groom are actually wed! 

 It was probably about 5:30pm by this point. I was a tad hungry. So then they exchange rings and are pronounced husband and wife and are prayed for. They couldn’t afford cake for everyone, so they had a loaf of bread instead, which had a knife ceremoniously stuck into it before being cut up into small pieces and handed around to all the seated guests (you always get a whole heap of people coming to weddings who aren’t officially invited but they come to join in on the occasion…and the free food!). So it was a bit of a long day, but I’m getting pretty used to African time by now. Lunch was served around 6:30pm, so we took off pretty much as soon as we finished eating. 

                                                                                  Some of the wedding gifts!

 By now dusk was upon us and the sun was disappearing. I had come prepared to stay the night in the village in case it ran late, which was obviously the case! Rose asked if I minded walking to her relatives’ place about 1km away or whether I wanted to get a picky, but I said it was fine. So we set off on foot in the dwindling last light of day along a narrow track leading through spacious bushlands dotted by the occasional Banda – the traditional round hut with a pointed thatched roof. As we walked further into the middle of nowhere, it got darker to the point where everything became shadowy silhouettes, lit only by the moon high above our heads. Luckily, I had brought my head torch with me, which helped to light the way as we weaved our way along, with Grace holding my hand. We arrived at our destination and even in the relative darkness, I could feel the stares of the children and even the adults at the arrival of a strange white-skinned person at their home. I asked Rose if they had had another mzungu visit their place before and she said no. There’s a first time for everything, hey?

 I was pretty spent by this time and we went into our banda to set up for the night. Rose kindly gave me the only mattress in there, and had brought a mosquito net with her, which she tied to the walls so it covered the bed. She set up a mat for her and her mum to sleep on, also with a net, and assured me that they had grown up sleeping on mats and weren’t being put out at all. I still felt a bit bad. I offered to have Grace in with me to give Rose and her mum a bit more room. James (Rose’s husband) and their son Shedrack were sleeping in another banda. I was resting on my bed, playing with Grace and feeling like I was ready to go to sleep, when some of Rose’s relatives brought in food – they had kindly made dinner for us! I was still fairly satisfied from our very late lunch, but I knew I would be hungry early in the morning if I didn’t eat, plus it would be quite rude after all the trouble they had gone to. So we had rice, cassava ‘bread’ (which is more like dough than bread!) and probably the most delicious stew I have had in Uganda to date. It was pork and was amazingly good. Mmmm. I’m feeling hungry now just thinking about it. After dinner we went to bed and I think I slept pretty well considering I was sleeping on a foam mattress in a relatively tight-fitting African outfit, using my skirt for the next day as a pillow! 

 We got up maybe around 7am and Rose had kindly prepared a shower for me, which was a tub of cold water placed at the back of the banda, facing into the bush, and a large piece of cloth for a towel. I was a little too shy to fully strip off in the open air, so I partially washed myself to the best of my ability. We had planned to head off early because Rose’s house back in Namatala was under threat due to the construction of a new road in the area and the people were due to arrive and start clearing the way that morning. Not fun. We took tea inside the banda after packing up our beds, which we had with dry bread – a typical Ugandan breakfast. 

We had to wait for the picky drivers to arrive, so I took some photos around the place before our transportation arrived and we said goodbye to everyone. One of Rose’s family with good English skills – possibly a nephew – came and presented me with a parting gift…a live chicken! I was very touched by their generosity but had some difficulty taking the gift from the guy’s hands, which they found rather entertaining. They wanted me to take the chicken by the feet, but I didn’t want the thing to flap about (I’m my mother’s daughter!), so I insisted on holding it around its body, with its wings firmly pressed against down. Rose and I were sharing a picky back to the main road, so she took the chicken on her lap, saving me the awkwardness of trying to hold a live bird and keep myself on a jolting motorbike simultaneously. We arrived safely at the main road and managed to get a lift back to Mbale in a passing school bus that was on its way back to Kampala from some sort of camp or something. I got to sit in the very front, in between a driver who had a fondness for speeding over large potholes and a young guy who wanted my email address so we could keep in contact. I politely declined.

 So that was the end of my brush with a village wedding and rural African life. Just so you know, the road workers told Rose that they were going to come to an arrangement with the placement of the road and reach a reasonable agreement…then they came and knocked down her toilet and part of their veranda. The house is okay for now, but as the road continues to be laid, there is a chance they will lose more or even all of their house. This is one of those times where you want to pull your hair out at the ridiculousness of this country. So Rose and the 14 or so people that live with here could possibly lose their house and be left homeless, with no money and no savings to rely on. I can only imagine how long it must have taken Rose to save up to buy their house, and now there’s a chance they could lose everything. They have had to get someone in to dig another toilet, which costs 80,000 shillings just for the hole, then on top of that, they have to pay for the concrete slab around the hole and the structure around the whole thing. Rose earns around 6,000 shillings a day. It’s a heart-breaking situation, but as usual, Rose is just soldiering on and not letting her external situation get to her. We had a girls bonfire at Leah’s last night and Rose was there, laughing and talking and eating and enjoying herself like nothing was wrong – not in a fake kind of way, but honestly just rising above her situation and getting on with life. Again, Rose is amazing.

 So the lovely Miss Leah. Where do I begin? Firstly, she is hilarious! Secondly, she’s not your typical Ugandan woman – she’s in her early 30’s, single, no kids, lives alone, is well-educated, is very straightforward and doesn’t beat around the bush. She’s a great cook and singer, an endless source of entertainment and can shake her booty with the best of them! She loves making new friends and is a most hospitable host – she made me breakfast every morning I stayed with her, washed my clothes, attended to my burn dutifully, washed my feet, gave me a pedicure, prayed with me, shared her friends with me and was just an all-round legend. I call her my sister, but we pronounce it “sistor”. Wherever Leah is, laughter follows! I can imagine Leah fitting in easily in Australia or any other Western country, although she has never left this part of Africa. Hopefully one day she will be able to come visit me in my homeland!

 I have more updates for you, so may have to do some back to back entries! Stay tuned faithful readers…

Lou :)