Grace

In the last two days, I have seen more of Africa than in two weeks this summer.  From the East to the Southwest, I have gone from Lake Victoria through rolling hills where zebras and antelope share grazing lands with cattle, and into the mountains.  Today we visited with Grace Mugisha and her school in a small village way off the man roads.  The road there was made of improbably big volcanic stones. Once the van stuck, its rear wheel three inches off the ground, jacked up by a rock.  We could have changed the tire.

   All the way as we drove at about 1 mph, children chased the car shouting “Muzunga!” And “Money!”.  We stopped for a moment, and an old drunk woman sang something that was partly in English, then started demanding money.  Foreigners have lots of money—that’s a safe conclusion from the premise that it is expensive to get to Africa.  Yet, it’s invalid, because some of us spent all our money getting here.  Nevertheless, we certainly have several weeks pay in our pockets.  Knowing the right thing to do is hard to decide and hard to do.  The van had to actually start moving in order to get her hand out of the window.

   This was the only time anyone aggressively asked for cash.  Usually, the ask is made with a smile, and made by children.  People here are poor—more so than in other areas of Uganda, but though the people we met have little money, they have homes, families, and enough to eat. 

  

    Grace invited us to visit her house for dinner.  In fact, she insisted.  From the school we walked at least half a mile straight up a path that had stairs made of volcanic rock.  Her house was on the mountain slope, which extended a few hundred feet up a sheer cliff behind .  The view from her house was the green valley and mountains beyond, and when the mists cleared for a moment, the huge cone of Muhabura and the jagged peaks of the Virungas materialized, and then disappeared in cloud.

   The house, or rather compound, was a very nice brick house with a cement porch overlooking the mountain slope.  There is another, slightly larger house, an outhouse, and outdoor kitchen, and a shed.  It seems opulent for this part of the world, though there is no electricity or plumbing.  Grace and her Aunt live there by themselves, and there are two men who help them, as she put it.  There are a couple of what looks like cement graves in the yard. 

   It rained, not for the last time.  But that was no problem.  After a downpour of a half hour or so, it cleared, puddles disappeared, and everything was clear.   When it rains, the mosquitoes come closer to the house, and then a dozen swallows swoop in to eat them.  The swallows nest under the house’s roof.

   Cooking is a process in a house like this.  Grace’s Aunt and Tianna helped out, along with one of the men who work for Grace.  There are fires to light, water to boil, vegetables to chop.  It look a while.  As time passed, I kept my eye on the sky—it was getting darker.  And darker.  By the time we were eating beans and potatoes and tomato soup (really more like a sauce), it was nearly night time.  We finally finished about 7:45, well after dark.  Then we had to walk back down the mountain in the dark.  Flashlights came out, and we headed down with uneasy steps,

   There is an instructive contrast here between my fear and anxiety about losing daylight on a slippery mountain in the middle of Africa, and Grace’s apparent nonchalance.  I worry about what might happen.  She doesn’t.  She just deals with what actually happens. 

   This characteristic I see all over Uganda.  Instead of creating real obstacles by fearing possible difficulties, many of our friends here simply forge ahead without concern.  I think this is why so many people here can get a lot done.  They are optimistic, enthusiastic, and confident that they can confront future challenges.   So often in the US, I see, or feel, or hear more reasons not to do something that reasons to do it.  My experience here has left me feeling empowered.  This is one of the many things I have learned, or re-learned from Africans this week.