Dan and Jodes… in Gulu, Uganda

Since moving to Gulu nine months ago I have discovered a multitude of cultural differences between Dan and I and the locals; sometimes I think it is even hard to identify the similarities. I do recognise that we are different; and that’s how we were all created; but struggling to find this line between accepting cultural differences and practises and challenging thinking where it is against Biblical principles.

Last week during devotions on site one of the local pastors gave an analogy saying ‘it’s just like when you get married, you start off loving your wife a lot and then over the years that love disappears, it is like that for every marriage’. I couldn’t help but disagree with him and state my reasons why. Our understanding and value of marriage is so vastly different!

There are many differences that we could argue against, including infidelity in a marriage, severely beating children and the way some wives are treated. But we can’t fight every battle. And I often find it difficult to bite my tongue and not to say something that comes out quite arrogant.

Our big ‘band wagon’ at the moment is attempting to fight the expectancy that if you hold any meeting, gathering or event then you should provide a bottle of soda, a meal (which must include meat) and transport allowance (in other words pay them to come). At our last official staff meeting at school, all teachers were served a soda (which I struggle to accept knowing that the school can’t even afford to buy books for the children or chalk dusters for the teachers – I am now on duster number four :).

Even church ministers were irate when at the last pastor’s conference on site I shared about the vision of TEAMS and then included a few words on why we were serving them a vegetarian meal that day, and not giving them a soda (trying to slowly wean them off). I have since realised that my name has been slated around the pastors in the area.  I have grown to be thick-skinned, but I believe I now need to add a few more layers of thickness for more protection J

I have been told that a meal with meat and a soda is cultural practise; but when did this practise begin? Should we just accept that it is now part of a culture? Would that be being good stewards of our finances when there are so many other needs all around us? Well Dan and I will continue to battle on and this is one we are not going to back down on; as Shakespeare wrote: “when sorrows come they come not in single spies, but in battalions”. Sometimes feel like there is a battalion against us here, but resting in the peace and knowledge that this is where we are meant to be for this specific time in our life!

I have struggled for 7 months to figure out how to help these young P1 children write their names. Kids have no trays, no display areas that are protected against the rain, labels on wooden desks have peeled off and even sticky back plastic (contact) came off within a day. At last: success! A laminated name card which they use to try and copy their names from. The kids were so excited to get them! My Acholi language is now centered around phrases like: around, above the line, big, small, down, up, space – all the important words 🙂

No need for multilink, counters or expensive resources for maths… Students sent out before their exams to make sure all have counting sticks.

Cheapest Man United shirt you will ever see! Making the best of what you’ve got…

Dan goes to a piggery with an Acholi mate to buy a couple of pigs. After selecting their first fine specimen our mate goes to take the first one to the ute. “Won’t you need to tie it down?” asks Dan. “It will jump out won’t it?” “No” says our mate, “it won’t get out”. After selecting his second beauty Dan walks to the car and discovers that the first pig is actually ‘in’ the car, not ‘in’ the tray back as he had assumed… “What were you thinking!” He exclaims! Pig jumping around the front seat… leaving us quite a few presents! A very good clean later… outside and in!

A pretty heavy title I know – but worth some pondering…

We have lived in Uganda now for eight months. This is certainly not a multicultural society. School and church would be classed as a monoculture (and possibly drawing people from one tribe within that culture); with both Dan and I being the exception.  Each day we are greeted with the term ‘mono’, local term for ‘white person’ or ‘muzungu’ (foreigner); certainly not in a derogatory way, it is merely a greeting and quite a friendly greeting from children: ‘Mono bye’ or ‘Mono how are you?’ I often answer back ‘fine Acholi (tribal name) how are you?’ Again, perfectly acceptable reply, and sometimes gets a giggle.

Chatting with our security guard last night, he tells us that his wife is ‘black’, ‘black as my shoes’, while he is ‘brown’ (honestly we struggle to tell the difference, but locals describe each other’s appearance by different degrees of brown and black in a matter-of-fact way). He goes on to tell us that his children are ‘half casts’ and is adamant that that is a better description for them rather than black or brown.

When did terms like ‘half cast’, ‘black’, ‘brown’, ‘coloured’ and even ‘white’ become discriminatory and racist in the west? They certainly aren’t in this neck of the woods and it is refreshing to talk with people who just say things for how they are (stating the colour of one’s skin) as a descriptive phrase and never meaning anything negative behind it. No offence has ever been meant or taken here and I am enjoying living in a location that isn’t so politically correct (whatever that means). We now speak like the locals do and fear when we return to the ‘west’ we will offend many people (if not already by writing this).

From the monos

Last Sunday I felt led to preach quite a challenging and difficult word at church: the three main points were ownership, motivation and gossip, good juicy feel good topics 🙂
Easy to put a local spin on the challenge of motivation: do you come to church to get something back? In the hope you will get something for free?
But in reflection: what is our motivation? Why do we do what we do? For accolades? For people to think good of us? For money? For family? For selfish ambition?
Why do we do the things that we do? What is our motivation?