I've been here just over a month now. Although there are still hardships; on the whole I'm happy. My health is back to normal, the power is back on (most of the time) and I have begun teaching. Not the one-to-one type of teaching that I have been doing from the start, but the real thing. Up in front of an expectant class, projector beaming PowerPoint presentations on the wall type of teaching. It's nerve-wracking stuff when you hear a storm approaching outside and you sense a power-cut is imminent. I keep expecting my beautiful diagrams and carefully worded definitions to disappear from the wall mid-sentence. Still, I have been lucky in that regard up to now.
I think I prefer the structure of a formal class though. I'll never forget the first informal class I gave to a couple of the secretarial staff. It was held in the Mission Secretary's office. In the corner of the room, bound and lying on the concrete floor was a giant cock. He was obviously intended for someone's dinner. The poor creature just lay there looking mournfully at me through the entire class as if to say, 'How can you be concerned about file organisation at a time like this?'
I'm beginning to be known about town. I sometimes walk the 3km to market to buy my fruit and veg and other times I'm lazy and take the jeep. With walking though you don't just benefit from the exercise, you also get to practice your greetings.
Greetings are very important in Africa and a whole ritual has risen up around them. There isn't much room for poetic license when it comes to greetings; in fact the questions and responses are fixed to such as extent that they can be learnt off.
When you meet someone, they will always ask the same question; so you can always give the same answer. For example, if you meet someone in the afternoon they will ask, 'Osiibi Otyanno Ssebo/Nnabo?', 'How has your day been sir/madam?' You reply, 'Bulungi', 'Fine'. You're always fine. If you're dying of malaria, you're fine. If you've just been involved in a car crash and are missing a couple of limbs you're still fine.
As well as the greetings, you must also learn the handshakes.
The typical handshake is a three-step affair as shown above.
If
you want to signal respect for the person who's hand you are shaking you touch
your elbow with your other hand as shown in the picture to the left. Of course
it would be unusual to have both parties indicating respect. It is usually done
when a person of low standing meets someone of a higher standing.
The younger children that I pass on the way to market tend to greet me with what I call the 'Hi Muzungu, Bye Muzungu' chant. Muzungu can best be translated as 'whitey'. Although it has slight negative connotations, I don't believe the children intend any malice when they use it. As I approach their bit of road they tend to launch into it, repeating 'Hi Muzungu, Hi Muzungu, Hi Muzungu ....' over and over until I acknowledge them. As I move away, the chant turns to 'Bye Muzungu, Bye Muzungu, Bye Muzungu ...'. It's quite nice to be acknowledged though it can be a bit embarrassing as they draw attention to me as fish out of water. Still, that's not as embarrassing as the other day when a young girl got down on her knees to greet me! It isn't too long ago that this was common practice throughout Uganda though it tends to be limited to very rural areas now.