Meet Grace Nalongo, mother of twins, cook, business woman and worker par excellence!

In Uganda, there are specific titles for particular events. In a way, it is similar to many other cultures that have specific names, for example, for maternal grandparents and paternal grandparents, to list a few. In Indian culture, a mother`s brother is called Mamoo (mama shree) while dad`s brother is called chacha (if he younger) and dada (if he is older). The wife of a Pandit (Hindu Religious leader) is called marajin....and so on. However, I have never heard of titles for those who give birth to twins. This is the new and exciting world that I now take you:

In Buganda culture (this is the main culture of the Kampala region), there are specific titles for those that are involved in this amazing feat of bearing twins. The terms are described below:

Nalongo – mother of twins
Salongo – father of twins
Babirye – 1st born twin – girl
Nakato – 2nd born twin – girl
Waswa – 1st born twin boy
Kato – 2nd born twin boy

Of course, these titles will then be accompanied with the unique names of the children in question. However, as soon as someone introduces themselves to you, by virtue of these titles, you are able to tell if the person has given birth to twins or if the individual has a twin brother or sister. These titles are so official that they even appear in official identity documents.

Well.... the matriarch of my host family – Grace Nalongo – is a mother of twins. She is an amazing and hard working woman. As I had indicated earlier, I was not happy with my initial accommodations and was introduced to this lady as someone who may be able to help. She had some rooms that she rents and offered one to me which I gladly accepted. The rest is now history – I had the most comfortable stay at that residence; they made my Kampala sojourn a most memorable one. I think I even got a bit fatter with all the Irish potatoes that I constantly eat.

We had a great cultural exchange. I brought a piece of Canada and Guyana to them and they brought Kampala, and Uganda to me. From music to food, from relationships to work ethics, from marriages to religion, from race to race relations, there is not a topic that we have failed to cover. This is a family of women – strong women – who does everything that they need to do, demonstrating that self sufficiency is within each individual. They also demonstrate great team work and camaraderie in everything that they do. Meet the members of the Nalongo house hold....

There is Grace Nalongo - Mother! There are - Edith, Winnie, Nakie, Babie, and Essie - daughters and sisters! Truly wonderful people.....

July 11/2010 – Where have all the Gods gone??? – Twin Bomb Blasts in Kampala, Uganda

Have you ever wondered why you do the things you do? Why you make the choices you make? Why you choose to go somewhere, but for the most inconsequential reason, you decided against that place and went elsewhere instead? Well.... I have been wondering this for the past ten hours because of a choice I made...and I had no reason to change my mind...well, no pressing reason.

I spent the day at home in Makindye, Kampala doing just about nothing and resting up for a night out on the town. I made the decision earlier to take in the FIFA 2010 World Cup (South Africa) final in one of the local establishment. I could not make up my mind and was a bit lazy to go all the way DT so I decided that I would just see it in Kabalagala at the Ethiopian Village restaurant – I had dinner there one evening last week and they had this huge screen that they projected a TV feed onto...ideal for the final! However, as I was leaving, I impulsively made the decision to go DT instead - because I was bitten quite a bit by mosquitoes when I was at the Village last week and the lighting was too dim/dark....I like bright lights! On the way, change my mind I did, and headed DT. The daughters of Eve will just have to do without my presence there ...I thought with a smile (darn those mossies). This was indeed fortuitous as the events that unfolded later would attest to!

At the height of the match, twin blasts ripped through the Ethiopian Village and the Rugby ground – both areas packed with people enjoying the absolutely marvellous African debut of WC football. I could only react with horror when I learnt about the carnage – I was actually going to the very restaurant and even lamented that I did not know about the big screens at the rugby ground. It is tragic that people who went out for revelry had to be subjected to such horrors and destruction. What should have been a party turned out to be a nightmare! The fact that the perpetrators of this heinous attack targeted places that were crowded indicates that they intended to cause maximum destruction and wanted major loss of life. There can be no reason for this and it just goes to show the depravity of the souls that would plan such an attack.

Word out on the street is that it was the handy work of Somali Islamists; there is also talk that it may be related to the upcoming Ugandan elections. There have been 60 confirmed deaths and numerous injuries. I am not sure if any of the injured were foreign nationals. No one is really sure who is behind the attacks and there have been no claims of responsibility. However, the sad reality is that these places are ill equipped to deal with such attacks – so the result will be a huge loss of life. To compound matters, which makes it even more tragic, is that most of the injured and the dead are poor people who can ill afford to go a day without work and cannot afford the medical bills. Where have all the Gods gone? Why is it that the poor continues to bear the brunt of suffering and yet, they are the most devout? What insanity continues to inspire people to slaughter with such impunity? I do not know what possessed me to change my plans halfway to the Village....or were the Gods there for me? This I ponder....

Thankfully, I was at Mateos on Parliament Avenue; even more grateful am I for the call I got from a friend – Tamara - (well.... she is a friend of a friend that I had dinner with at the Ethiopian Village last week) who informed me of the blast and advised that I head home. I immediately called Rick, a taxi cab driver that drove me around a few times before and he organised a car to take me home. I did not think that I was in danger, but thought it prudent to call it a night. I had to resist the urge to convince the driver to take me to the scene of the blasts. I got home only to find that the internet was down....
I was very happy to have a cab and a driver that I know to take me home. This underscores the importance of building relationships. Rick was not working but he quickly organised another cab driver to come get me and whisk me away. While it is always difficult to trust easily, especially when you are in a foreign land, it is equally important that you learn to trust and develop some contacts that you may be able to call upon in emergencies.

To those who lost their lives – may their souls rest in peace; to those that are injured – get well soon and continue to live life to the fullest. To the criminals who orchestrated this – well go rot in hell!

The tragedy of the importance complex

Apparently Uganda has a lots of vital and sensitive installations; this is according to the many and varied security officers that are scattered across the city and country. On my way to Northern Uganda, I really wanted to take a picture of the rive Nile while on the bridge that spans the river. I was told by my local compatriots that this was not possible as I needed to seek the permission of the soldiers that were guarding this area. The bridge was an important security asset. This sounded reasonable so I thought that I would just wait until the return trip and get some pictures from the road side. Most of the individuals in the vehicle were a bit apprehensive, but none the less allowed me to get a few shots – they were not the greatest. This was Sunday, June 6. On June 7, I was walking past the commercial court building - a very nice one - and I decided to take a picture. Much to my chagrin, the guards stopped me from doing so. They said it was sensitive security installation and I needed permission before taking the picture. Why did I not ask the super in charge of the group of officers guarding at the entrance of the court for his approval? I could not imagine that almost all the government buildings here will be sensitive security installations....or am I just dealing with over excited security guards who have an importance complex? Heavens knows....but it seems... that the excitement that I feel when I see some interesting government places must be tempered so as not to upset the delicate security infrastructure of the state.

I think that in most places, you are allowed to take pictures – after all, this is what tourist do the world over. I did want to take a shot of the building so I went back a few days later and asked fro the super - this person could not be found. I just decided to take the pictures and be done with it.

I hope that I can get a shot of the Parliament – it is also quite impressive!

Fences, the haves and the have nots...and expats!

Kampala is characterised by high fences: fences that seem to indicate that those on the outside are not welcomed inside. Imagine that they are so high that you can hardly see what occurs there. It really gives you a sense of separation. I guess I can understand that this may be part of security for those living inside, but they are none the less, quite imposing. The top of fences are covered with barbed wires or sometimes broken glass– just for good measure I suppose. I guess the nearest equivalent to this in NA are the gated communities, except that here, it is a gated house (sometimes a few houses as the person may be a small land owner).

Many of the structures that you can glimpse behind these high walls are quite magnificent. Walking along the roadside, I was struck by a thought: the fences reminds me of the description of the Patel’s residence in Alexander Mcal Smith`s Maam Ramotsve`s series.... this thought just came unwittingly to my mind..... that that is what the fences will look like.

I think that there are too many people who have little and too few who have a lot and for that matter, too many foreigners here who can have the most spectacular of places to live in and enjoy making money from. More must be done for the local people to get jobs and afford a better life. There may be more foreigners living in the posh neighbourhoods of Kampala than locals. This says a lot....

The tragic comedy of life is that the people who work in malls and stores cannot afford to buy what they handle every day. Day in day out, they serve the Ugandan elite and members of the very large expatriate community who makes the city their home, knowing and seeing that their life is a lot “less” that what others are enjoying. They cannot shop at the grocery store or even eat in the restaurants – imagine many have not even tried Chinese food – a cuisine that has mastered the art of being cheap and affordable...

Looking at the situation, I sometimes wish that with the wave of a hand, I could provide opportunities for the children of these people to be schooled so that they too will have a chance at a better life. However, even that may not be enough; as with most places, it is not only what you know, but who you know that will determine the outcome of your job application.
Suffice to say...the situation is far from satisfactory! The fences speak a lot....

Are we together....

“Are we together....” is one of the most common phrases that teachers or trainers or individuals explaining something use to explore the understanding of the listeners. There was that Caribbean song that was all about “Overstand” instead of “Understand” because to “understand” indicates less somehow. This song came to mind every time I hear – are we together.

Interesting... these use of different phrases to man the same thing. We would just ask if the class understands...like that!

I have learnt a few words...in Luganda (not sure about spelling) –

Wangee – Yes please (this is how people answer the telephone)
Kwagala – I love you (could also mean “I want you”)
Jango – Come
Wasuze otya – Good morning
Osibye otya – Good afternoon (e sounds like a)
Nnyabo – lady (respect or polite way will require this word at the end of good morning or afternoon)
SSabo - man

So it is official – I am a Mzungu with big breasts!!!

July 1/2010 – Happy Canada Day

So it is official – I am a Mzungu with big breasts!!! This was boldly declared by twin 6 year old Ugandan girls...

As I was talking to my sister who was calling from Guyana, I decided to go onto the street where there is some clearing and possibly better reception. Before long, I was surrounded by a flock of children, chattering excitedly in what I think was Luganda – I might add, they were very cute and brave. All the English they knew were “yes” and this was the standard response to whatever I said to them.

Soon they were busily patting my hands and making valiant attempts to touch the hair on my head. I thought I should make life easy for them so I stooped down...all the while giggling with my sister on the telephone. You should see the sight – a smatter of children busily touching my head, my nose, my hands and one bold soul – my chest...all the while chattering excitedly. I immediately recalled the movie with Brad Pitt when he was in Tibet and the little monk was playing with his golden hair....quite a funny sight. To crown the story, there were many adults – relatives of the children – looking on and having a quite laugh. Little did I know that the kids, in addition to saying any number of things, was also mentioning that the mzungu has big breasts!!!! Hahahah.... what a shock I had when someone kindly interpreted what the excitement was all about. To be kind, they also mentioned that I had beautiful hair and that I am nice....but the crown jewel of this interaction was the declaration on my breasts. I now so need to hit the gym!!!! OR GET SURGERY...

On a related note, I cannot seem to convince the folks that I am not a Mzungu. As I stated earlier, this is the term that describes people of Caucasian extraction... and somehow, to the kids and a very many Ugandans... I am really a tanned version! This is the funniest thing ever!!!!! Whenever I say that I am of Indian extraction – people promptly say that I hardly look like an Indian. On the other hand, the Indian people here excitedly indentify me as someone of Indian decent. The reactions have really been interesting. I was given quite a number of ethnicities –Ugandan (the election officials asked if I was here to register on the voting list), Ethiopian, Somalian, Latin American, Eritrean and African American! I only look Indian to the Indians who are at the food court in the mall. The most prevalent reaction is that I am a white...and never before had I had to explain that I am not white, almost daily.

I was at a school and one S.6 student asked me the following question: “Why are you whites so interested in Africa?” This was an important question, but I was hardly the right candidate to answer it. I told him that I am actually brown, South America...so I am not in a position to answer for the white person. However, the students were adamant that I was, in their eyes, white. Even after pointing out that Kosi, a girl in the class, was actually very pale in comparison to my very dark self, they were not convinced. After one month, I now allow my classification in Uganda to be “white” - whatever this means as there is no convincing that I am not... I am really a world citizen and everything all in one!

Now to the question of why many Europeans and North Americans are so interested in Africa – does anyone have some thoughts????

In the meanwhile, I just have to be content with the declaration that I am a a big breasted Mzungu! Me....big breasted....LORD HELP ME!!!!!!!

``White People are blessed,`` said Moses.

As I sat waiting for a shave, I struck up a conversation with the youth next to me; he was waiting for a haircut. We made small talk about this and that and the inevitable question arose – where was I from. This is always a complicated question because where I am coming from and where I am from and where I am genetically from is all different. I decided that the best answer would be to answer where I was coming from – Canada. I realised that I posit a contradiction of sorts to Moses. This was confirmed by his next statement – he said that my skin is rather dark for a Muzungu (this is the local word for Caucasians); I must be of mixed blood. I look somewhat Muindie (local word for Indians) but not quite so. I then had to launch into a complicated explanation about why I look the way I did and so forth. However, this was not the highlight of the interaction.

I was struck by the intensity and depth of feeling that the simple words spoken by Moses communicated: he said that white people are truly blessed; they are full of compassion and love to come to Uganda and adopt and care for orphans and do so many good and charitable works. People who do so much good must surely be blessed.

There are indeed many Churches and other Western based organisations doing great things here. However, the contrast that Moses was making was that the world have so many Asian (this generally means Indians) millionaires and Uganda even (apparently, the second richest man in the country is of Indian extraction) but so few are engaged in this kind of work. There is certainly some truth to this statement. I think that the Forbes magazine continues to list untold numbers of millionaires and billionaires in India and one hardly hear about the charitable ventures that they are engaged in. Indeed, there many children that urgently need care and an opportunity in India. Surely, those that have been so handsomely rewarded with the fruits of their labour could do much more that is currently the case.

Back to Moses and I - I opined that perhaps, the reason why many Asians are not that involved may be because they probably do much of their charitable works in Asia – which is largely a developing region of the world also. I also wanted to impart to Moses that we are all equally blessed (no group is more blessed than any other – even Moses is blessed, I said to him), but it is how we choose to live and what we choose to do with ourselves that is really important. The Westerners doing amazing work in Uganda chose to invest their efforts and resources in what they consider meaningful – to help children and the under privileged; this should be celebrated! I then pointed out a story in the news paper where it was reported that a group has sponsored the school feels and other needs of 100 orphans in Western Uganda and it was not a foreign group, but rather some local organisation. This should be recognised also.

Moses still thinks that some people are more blessed..... and who am I to argue with this! It is undeniable the number of Brits, Americans and Canadians who are here working with vulnerable communities. The Watoto church is engaged in many amazing projects centred on children! Indeed the visibility is there but I guess my post colonial warning signs are raised when I hear people speak in such terms...but I may have just over thought it.

At this time, the barber motioned for me to come get my shave. I bid adieu to Moses and went on to enjoy a shave that took me all the way back to Stewartville Secondary School and the year 1994!