Rural Homestay in Kapchorwa!!

My homestay in Kapchorwa was incredible!!! The town is in the mountains, and my family literally lived on the side of one. It was incredibly beautiful there – many waterfalls and lush green everywhere you looked. From high on the mountain you looked out for hundreds of miles on vast plains that extended for what seemed like forever. It was breathtakingly beautiful. I stayed with the Kapchemut family of the Sabiny tribe, Kapyis clan. Everyone here identifies themselves firstly by clan and tribe, and most people can’t comprehend that we don’t have either in the US. When I tell people, especially in rural areas, in shock they can’t imagine how we’re socially organized. I became a member of their clan and tribe, and they really considered me part of their family. Though I was only there for five days, I truly felt like I was a part of their family. I was given the Kupsabiny (pronounced Coop-sabb-een) name Cherotich, which means I arrived at the time the cattle come in (around 6 PM). They called me this during the time I was there. The family was Momma, Papa, five sons (though I only met the youngest two – Victor and Aggrey – because the others were away at boarding school, as are most Ugandan children if their parents are able to afford to send them), an orphaned niece named Immaculate who lived with them (which is EXTREMELY common here, as many children are orphaned due to AIDS especially), and a woman named Grace in her early 30s that had been raised by them, was considered a daughter, and came home for the time I was there. Momma and Papa are both primary school teachers and Grace had recently graduated from Makerere University (the largest university in Uganda, in the capital city of Kampala) with a degree in sociology and is now working for the Kapchorwa district government. The five boys and Immaculate are all in school, the oldest son in a clinical medicine program. Momma and Papa spoke of how difficult it was to pay school fees for all their children, but they had managed. They placed an incredibly high value on education and seemed very motivated and determined to create a better, more prosperous for their children than they had known. The children all seemed very intelligent and capable of great success, evidenced in the fact that the oldest is training to be a doctor and that they all get good grades in school. My family does not have a vehicle; no one in the area did with the exception of a few closer to the town. Papa walks over an hour each way to the school where he teaches. They also have no electricity or running water (if you’re wondering, many people closer to towns have electricity, but hardly any homes have running water. 80% of Ugandans live in rural areas, so that shows you how many don’t have electricity.) My family gets their water from a cave about half a mile up the mountain. Momma gets water from there twice a day. I helped her once. The walk is pretty steep, and I was pretty eager to put down the one jerry can I carried. I’ll never cease to be amazed at all that African women can carry on their heads. Momma carries a huge jerry can upright on her head down the mountain and carries one in her hand. I’ve seen many women with heavy things on their head, a baby tied around their back, and things in both hands. Crazy!

My family owned a few acres of land, and there were three separate homes (very common) – a square mud home with a tin sheet roof where I stayed, a mud building with 2 rooms, one a kitchen and another the youngest boys’ room, and a mud hut with a thatched roof where the sons sleep when they’ve become teenagers, as is customary. I had my own room with a bed and table. There were multiple really big spiders that blended into the mud walls of my room really well, and I occasionally shone my flashlight on them to be sure they were still on the wall and not in my bed! The family sits in the kitchen at night, and it gets soooo smoky. It didn’t bother any of them, but I couldn’t handle it for very long. (Janelle, Linds, and Cait: So I’ve definitely seen plenty of mud huts, and while I didn’t sleep in one, my family had one! And I slept in a mud house!) The pit latrine was a couple hundred feet walk from the buildings. Papa told me that their tradition is to give some of their land to their sons. My family has two cows, one of which was pregnant and due only a few days after I left! We also had a cat that slept on the chair in our living room – reminded me my kitties at home!! Two dogs served as security guards during the night hours, mostly as protection against the Karamajjong, a warrior tribe that conducts night raids and steals people’s cattle and sometimes kill people that get in their way. Their tribe lives off of the meat and blood of cows only, and are greatly hated and feared by many. My family told me they are very “backward,” meaning they’ve refused to “become civilized,” and they wear no clothes.

I’ve never experienced hospitality as I have here in Uganda. My family was so excited to have me there, and I couldn’t even tell you how many visitors I had everyday! Everyone who lived near came to greet me, even if they spoke no English. They all bowed to me, as is proper in their culture (it was MUCH more traditional in Kapchorwa than here in the more urban areas). I felt so honored and welcome. At least 50 children that lived nearby came to see me, many everyday! Many children had rarely seen a mzungu and were so excited to see me and excitedly rubbed my skin and played with my hair to see what it felt like. One little girl who came to visit with me daily showed up one morning with yarn tied around her hair multiple times and some loose strands hanging down – her version of mzungu hair, as she told momma! It was sooo cute! The culture is more traditional, including with gender roles. Momma, Grace, and the niece Immaculate do all the cooking; it is customary that men never cook – to do so if disgraceful as it makes a wife seem that she is not doing her duties. In addition, only Papa and I (being the visitor) ate dinner at the table in the living room; Momma, Grace, and all the children ate outside in the kitchen. Papa is by no means unjust towards Momma, and it seemed that she truly served him in love, just as the things he did for her were done in love. Never have I eaten so much food. It’s not possible to just stop and say hi to someone, in fact that’s incredible culturally insensitive. Everyone you visit you must sit with and have at least tea and a snack, but very often “snack” is the size of a decent meal. I had to pace myself eating breakfast, which consisted of a chipote, five “ripes” (mini bananas), a boiled egg, 3 pieces of toast with Blue Band (the African equivalent of margarine, which I will certainly NOT miss), a couple handfuls of roasted G-nuts, and multiple cups of African tea (milk tea). To not finish a meal and eat a lot indicates that you’ve not accepted your host’s hospitality, so I spent the five days in a constant state of being overstuffed.

I spent a lot of time with the family that lived next door. They were somehow related to my family, but I’m not sure how (this happens pretty commonly here, and I can’t usually figure out just HOW people are related). Judith and her husband were pretty young – early 30s, and they had the three most adorable and good-natured children ever! She told me they woke up early every morning in anticipation of coming to see me. Martha is 5, Jonathon’s 3, and baby Martha is 2 months. Jonathon and I kicked a soccer ball around (football here) many times and had a blast. Judith told me that he almost died about a year ago – his entire body was swollen and when they took him to the clinic learned his kidneys weren’t functioning properly. He’s taking medicine and is doing much better. They are fortunate to have access to and to be able to afford medical care; the majority are not so fortunate. The two oldest played with their friends near my house all the time, dragging each other around in half a jerry can with a string attached (kind of like an improvised sled, but there was certainly no snow!). Speaking of snow, it got pretty cold in Kapchorwa since it’s up in the mountains, which was such a nice relief from the constant heat in Mukono. At night I slept in a sweatshirt with a blanket over me! Judith had me over to their mud hut my final night there and served goat meat, goat intestines (a delicacy, but certainly not my favorite – it’s like eating rubber, you never really stop chewing but just swallow), cabbage, and matooke of course. We sat and talked for awhile, and I really enjoyed being with her and her husband and kids. I gave the kids a yo-yo and paddle ball set I had brought from home, which really excited them. As I was saying goodbye and hugging everyone (and tearing up I might add), Judith grabbed me by the hand, looked straight into my eyes, and said, “I might not understand all about your life and the way you live, but one thing I do know. Hold onto Jesus no matter what, and never let go. He’s the only thing that really matters in this life.” Such simple yet profound words, spoken by a woman from a rural village in the mountains of Uganda whom I’d grown to deeply love. I left their home with tears in my eyes and wanting to stay longer with my newly-found family in Kapchorwa.

Something I wanted to do in coming to Uganda was kill a chicken, and I had the chance on my rural homestay! We came home from church on Sunday and I saw the hired hand holding a chicken in his hands. The family ushered me to a grassy area, where they laid the chicken on the ground and directed me to hold its neck. The chicken was struggling and trying to get loose as I plucked some of the feathers from its neck as directed. They handed me a dull knife, and told me to kill it. This was no big deal to them, but I was freaking out, which greatly amused the entire family who stood around watching. I raised the knife to the neck of the chicken (which was still struggling in my grip) and ran it across the neck, quickly realizing how hard I would have to slice to cut through the neck with the dull blade. I pressed harder and made a small cut, and the chicken struggled a lot. At that point I lost it. I screamed and let go of the chicken’s neck. The hired hand finished the job, and I watched the chicken squirm and suffer for about ten seconds. It was pretty gross, but I’m glad I had the experience while here. Killing it was only the beginning, though. From there we put the chicken in a basin and poured hot water on it to make the feathers come off easier. I helped remove all the feathers and the feet. Then Grace gutted the chicken. In their culture, the guest is honored by eating the gizzard. I’m not entirely sure what the gizzard does, but I saw the hundreds of small rocks it contained when Grace removed it from the chicken. I’m proud to say that when the chicken was cooked and served I ate the entire gizzard. It was like eating a big piece of softened rubber. Yummy! :) Oh, and the dog ate the fried chicken head, beak and all…yum! The dogs and cats normally eat matooke, rice, and whatever else the family gives them. Hehe.

Most people in Kapchorwa, including my family, grow coffee as their cash crop. They grow Arabica coffee, which grows on trees and look like red berries. One day I got to pick coffee with them! I saw a chameleon in one of the trees I picked from, which was so cool. I got some pretty good pictures. The next day we shelled the coffee, roasted it, and ground it – an incredibly intense and lengthy process! I ground the coffee with a big mortar and pestol, which took FOREVER! They gave me a huge container of coffee, which I hope will still be good by the time I get home so we can have it for Christmas!!

When I got to church on Sunday, I was directed to a chair to sit, kind of like being put on display, happened somewhat often in Kapchorwa. Within seconds a mob of children was surrounding me. It’s a good thing I’m not claustrophobic, because they were just about on top of me rubbing my skin, playing with my hair, and asking over and over again “How are you?” (the one phrase in English every child knows, even if they know nothing else). I later learned most of the group of children around me were orphans who lived at a development center run by the church and that they were sponsored by Compassion International. In church the pastor announced that ten of the children were losing their funding. If you don’t know much about Compassion, check it out – it’s a really great organization that gives people in the West a practical way to help poor children around the world. Church on Sunday was five hours long!! I thought I might die – sitting on backless wood benches for that long is by no means comfortable!! One of the Compassion girls who really latched onto me sat in front of me and checked that I was doing everything in the service properly. At one point while the minister was praying, she saw that I had my eyes open and tapped me on the arm and said “Now you close your eyes and pray.” So cute. A guest speaker spoke on forgiving people for past wrongdoings, and multiple times she repeated the necessity of forgiving the Karamajjong for stealing cattle – that goes to show you how real their raids are!

On Tuesday I visited the school where Momma teaches – Kapteret Primary School. It was about a half hour walk down the mountain; the school consisted of about 10 one-level, very bare buildings with benches, desks, and chalkboards, and not much else. Over 700 children attend Primary 1 through Primary 7, and there are 14 teachers. At the first spotting of me walking near the building, the children were all clamoring to catch a glimpse of the mzungu through the window. I visited most of the classes and took pictures, as I was requested by the teachers. My entire time in Kapchorwa I was asked to take many pictures of some of the funniest poses – women cutting matooke, a man holding a tomato – cameras are obviously pretty rare. I sat in the headmaster’s office for a couple hours, where all the teachers came to greet me and the children were scolded for peeking in through the window. I sat for two hours with the headmaster and two male teachers, who asked me the most ridiculous questions! During my time in Kapchorwa I was asked a million absurd questions, which showed me that they really have very little idea what life in the USA is like. I was asked “Have you been to the moon?” “Are the streets made of glass?” “Do have dust?” “When you turn 13, are you made to take an oath and swear to never tell lies and defend America?” “When you get married isn’t it true that you sign a contract specifying how long your marriage will last?” …There were many more; the questions were somewhat amusing, but got pretty annoying after awhile, since people would sit for hours on end asking them. Also, everyone was amazed that a mzungu knew how to do any work – when I passed by people carrying a jerry can or while grinding coffee everyone laughed and asked how I knew to do work. They really think that machines do everything for us. A crowd of about 30 kids followed me home.

I was sad to leave my family in Kapchorwa, and they were very sad to see me go. They begged our program director to let me stay a few more days. It’s customary for them to send visitors away with a chicken, but I explained to them that it wouldn’t last the couple days more we’d be traveling before coming back to Mukono. I was offered three chickens and a huge bundle of matooke, but convinced them a huge bag of passion fruit (the greatest stuff in the world) and a container of freshly-ground coffee was more than enough.

After leaving Kapchorwa we drove through Soroti, where much of the flooding a couple months ago was the heaviest. Many bridges were still closed, and grazing land was so flooded it looked like a pond. We saw multiple helicopters fly overhead to do food drops, since people’s farms (their main food supply) have been flooded and relief agencies can’t access areas to get to them. Health officials are predicting outbreaks of diseases like cholera and typhoid as the waters recede. We visited an IDP camp (Internally Displaced Persons), where people go if they are not able to stay at their home due to conflict or natural disaster. IDP camps have received worldwide attention, as they tend to have poor food and water supplies, massive overcrowding, and prostitution and sex crimes are rampant as people are desperate for money. We met with a group of Peace Promoters who have been trained by Mennonite Central Committee in conflict resolution techniques that they’re putting to use in their communities. After that we headed to Sipi Falls, right next to Kapchorwa, for two days of relaxation, debrief, and hot showers! We had a worship service on the top of a mountain – so beautiful, but I was definitely winded by the time I reached the top!

I was so excited to come back home to my family in Mukono after being away for ten days. I felt missed, especially by Enoch. The day I got back he hung out in my room with me for awhile, smiling and laughing. At one point I headed towards the back door to go out to the pit latrine, and he ran to me, screamed, wrapped his arms around my legs, and looked up with a sad pussy face. I guess he thought I was leaving again, and he did not approve. This week is really busy with classes and tons of papers and schoolwork. I woke up missing home more than I ever have this morning, but getting on campus and reading e-mails and blog comments from people at home and talking to my family on the phone really lifted me up and made me feel a lot better. Thank you so much! I’ll be home in six weeks from today! It seems crazy that I’ve been here for a little more than ten weeks – in some ways I feel like time’s flown by and in other ways I feel like I’ve been here forever.