Living in the Time Zone

I think we all deeply yearn for connection.

We want to be a part of something bigger than ourselves. The problem is, we also want the freedom of having absolutely nobody telling us what to do with our lives. We don’t want to be on anybody else’s timetable. We don’t want anybody else to use what we’ve carefully rationed away for ourselves. We don’t want to share because we see sharing as giving something of ourselves away.

The thing is, when we are able to share we actually gain more than we lose.

Today our manager told us how his supervisor described muzungu time in comparison to African time. Muzungus, he said, run their lives according to time and Africans, in contrast, run their lives according to relationships. He continued to say that both are beneficial, and we should learn from each other.

The thing is, when you put like it’s relationships versus time, I think most of like to think that we do put relationships first. We, or at least I, get slightly offended. I think I get offended because it’s true. In some ways North American’s value relationships by valuing time. When we are on time to a meeting we show that we value the people who are at the meeting and when we’re on time to a date, we show that we value our date. However, I also think that we’re not all that good at valuing relationships. If I value people so much why do I have such a hard time with sharing? Why do I have a difficult time adjusting to Ugandan time?

I want to learn to value relationships more. The deep connection we all yearn for isn’t going to be filled if we keep walking down the path we’re headed down. I’m talking about at home in North America but also about my time here.

It’s been really hard to connect with people and to make friends and I think, partly, it’s due to the fact that I do often view time, my own comfort, and my own ideas as more important than relationships. Thankfully I’ve got five more months to work on this, to learn more about putting relationships first and to learn more about befriending Ugandans.… though skipping the friendship stage and jumping straight into marriage is apparently a fairly viable option ;).

Akatare Days

We have officially been in Uganda for over a month. In the grand scheme of things a month is not a long time, but so much has happened this month. I don’t mean so much in terms of, like, things actually happening. Honestly, I spend a significant amount of time here just sitting and waiting. Rachel wrote about waiting last week so I’m not going to do that all over again, instead I just want to write a little about what life is like for us here. This week I’ll focus on shopping, maybe next week on our living situation, transportation, or relationships.

The best thing about being in a different culture is that, at least at first, literally everything is new and exciting.

The equivalent of a trip to Safeway is a trip to the fruit/veggie market (akatare in Lukiga). I have never had such an exciting trip to Safeway or Save-on-Foods as every trip to the market is here. Kabale is a pretty small town- we’re talking one main street and a few side streets- but it happens to be the center for all the villages in a two hours radius so it can get pretty busy. The veggie/fruit market is pretty huge and, unfortunately, surrounded by butcher shops. There’s nothing quite like smelling fresh(ish) meat while you’re on your way to purchase veggies.

At the market we can purchase tomatoes, cucumbers, eggplant, beans, dodo (like bitter spinach), pumpkins, onions, garlic, ground nuts, watermelons, mangoes, apples, green oranges, pili-pili (hot peppers) and passion fruit (my personal fav). You never quite know what you’ll find at the akatare but these are the basics. It’s a vegetarian’s dream and if you love farmer’s markets or you’re a fan of ‘buying local’ you can be pretty sure that everything you can find was grown nearby.

 For those of you who have trouble making decisions this is probably not the place for you because there are 30+ people selling the same things. Good luck deciding which tomato is the perfect tomato. Not only that, most items are sold by the kilo so you better choose carefully because a kilo of green beans happens to be quite a few green beans. Rach and I have started making shopping lists just to avoid the fresh off the boat look of not realizing that a whole kilo of peppers is waaay too many peppers for just the two of us until they're packaged and we're trying to fit them into our bags. (Not that that has ever happened ;).

Photo: Just found this artwork at a market in Kampala. We are here for the weekend to get Rach drugs (it's a pretty unfortunate story) and I figured I might as well do a little shopping while we're here.... and eat some mexican food and take a hot shower. City life yo. Gotta love it.

A Few Thoughts on Death

 Death is commonplace here. There have been two or more funerals in this community every week that I’ve been here. People’s response to death is something along the lines of, “it’s just a part of life.”

I have only been to six funerals in my entire life. It doesn’t matter where you live, you can’t escape death but it is a much less noticeable part of life in Canada—especially for the average person my age.

“Loss is what gives love meaning, what makes time precious. Without contrast, there is no color.” – Jedidiah Jenkins

I’ve been sheltered from death for most of my life but I don’t want to live like death isn’t real. Shit happens. It helps that I believe in eternity, but that doesn’t mean that our present lives don’t end. Belief in eternity doesn’t fully remove the impact of death. I want to live with eternal perspective and I want that perspective to remind me to love more deeply.

Witnessing the way people live here I have learned that a true understanding of death inspires love, not fear or anger. I attended a burial today and it was one of the most joyful experiences of my life. There was dancing like nothing I've ever seen before. There were times when I literally couldn't wipe the smile off my face.

I think Valentine’s Day is the perfect day to think about the frailness of our lives. Today is the perfect day to start loving the people around you more deeply.

If you’re reading this… I love you! Feel free to enjoy one of those single’s blizzard’s from DQ on my behalf. I’m pretty sad that I’m missing out on what sounds like the best ice cream creation ever. Since there’s no DQ here I’ll just be cherishing the memory of the last ice cream cone I had before leaving Canada… it was a good one. I’m sorry for ending this semi-serious blog with a paragraph about ice cream. It just sounds so good right now. Guess I’ll go eat some beans. You might have ice cream but Canadian beans don’t got nothing on Ugandan beans and American akahunga doesn’t even exist. You don’t even know what you’re missing out on… just be lucky you don't have to wash it down with obushera (aka local beer). Trust me, obushera is nothing like a good Canadian local beer. It's made of fermented sorghum flour and when you finish every sip there is grit in your mouth.  

[One a more serious note: There’s a lot to think about with regards to death and human rights in places like Uganda. Maybe I’ll put a little more thought into a blog on this topic in the future.]

Some more of what has been inspiring me lately:

“Love the quick profit, the annual raise, vacation with pay. Want more of everything ready-made. Be afraid to know your neighbors and to die. And you will have a window in your head. Not even your future will be a mystery any more. Your mind will be punched in a card and shut away in a little drawer. When they want you to buy something they will call you. When they want you to die for profit they will let you know. So, friends, every day do something that won’t compute. Love the Lord. Love the world. Work for nothing. Take all that you have and be poor. Love someone who does not deserve it. Denounce the government and embrace the flag. Hope to live in that free republic for which it stands. Give your approval to all you cannot understand. Praise ignorance, for what man has not encountered he has not destroyed. Ask the questions that have no answers. Invest in the millennium. Plant sequoias. Say that your main crop is the forest that you did not plant, that you will not live to harvest. Say that the leaves are harvested when they have rotted into the mold.

Call that profit. Prophesy such returns. Put your faith in the two inches of humus that will build under the trees every thousand years. Listen to carrion - put your ear close, and hear the faint chattering of the songs that are to come. Expect the end of the world. Laugh. Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful though you have considered all the facts. So long as women do not go cheap for power, please women more than men. Ask yourself: Will this satisfy a woman satisfied to bear a child? Will this disturb the sleep of a woman near to giving birth? Go with your love to the fields. Lie easy in the shade. Rest your head in her lap. Swear allegiance to what is nighest your thoughts. As soon as the generals and the politicos can predict the motions of your mind, lose it. Leave it as a sign to mark the false trail, the way you didn’t go. Be like the fox who makes more tracks than necessary, some in the wrong direction. Practice resurrection.” —  Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front, Wendell Berry (via ropeandsaw)

Making a Home

Bushara Island is home to 80+ species of birds. One of these species is the weaver bird. I’m not a huge birder but these guys are awesome. On the occasional morning when I wake up early to catch a little extra quiet time I like to go and sit on one of the docks and watch them build their nests. They build their nests to be fully covered with a tunnel-like entry. There’s one nest I’ve been watching for almost the entire two weeks I’ve been here and they’re still working on it.

Building a house takes time, and we expect it to take time, but building a home also takes time. I’ve been working on making this house and island into a home since the day we arrived and there is still a long way to go. I’ve hung photos on the walls (most of which have fallen down), placed notes and cards from friends on my windowsills and swept the spiders out of the corners of my room but this isn’t home yet.

This island will be home when I stop second-guessing every other word that comes out of my mouth, wondering if I’ve said something culturally unacceptable. It will be home when I can speak enough Rukiga to confidently greet my co-workers who don’t speak English. It will be home when I feel comfortable enough to let loose.

The hugs I received from the kids at church yesterday, the greetings I’ve already learned, the already familiar laughs and smiles, the battery-powered Christmas lights hanging over my bug net, the constant sound of birds, and the bag of guava a co-worker gave us. These are the things that are already making this island into my home.

I’ve learned this lesson before. No matter when or where you move it’s going to be hard. Community takes time to form and every place is different. I think I’m finally starting to learn to embrace the process. It’s messy and often unpleasant but the end result is fully and completely worthwhile. It’s worth fighting through the discomfort of moving and meeting new people because it always ends with another place and group of people to call home. It always ends with a heart that has been stretched and, as a result, has grown.

Photo: This is the one of five docks on Bushara Island and by far the best for swimming. The Island you can see across the water is Bwama Island. It's owned by the Anglican church and houses two schools, a church, the agroforesty plot where Rachel works and a medical clinic that you can see on the far right of this photo. Bwama Island is one of the biggest islands on Lake Bunyonyi and used to be a leper colony. My goal is to be able to swim there and back by the time we leave... it's further than it looks.