Homestay with the local family has been an experience that I
could not have predicted. I am awkward
even with people that I have known for a long time so you can imagine how
awkward I can be with those I have known less than a month. Despite this character trait of mine, I was
able to create a close relationship with this family of hardworking
individuals.
The first person I got the privilege to meet is my host
brother, Fred. He is known as “Boy” in
the neighborhood. I personally don’t
want to call him by his nickname because it sounds condescending but he likes
it. *shrug* To each their own. At the grand age of only 16, Fred knows the
ins and outs of this region. Aside from
being an all-around swell guy, he’s also a baker, an electrician, a tour guide,
a soccer (football) fan, a linguist, and a natural dancer. Not a day goes by without seeing Fred and my
homestay is better for that reason.
Next are my sisters Miriam, Winnie, Penny, Vicki and
Mercy. Without fail, every morning they prepare my breakfast, tea, and dinner.
They are always generous with their portion size and so much so that I
could cut it in half and still have some to spare. I know they do it because they care and plus
it’s in the culture to have a few excess pounds to demonstrate that one is not
sick with malaria or something else. Most of the time we just relax in front of
the TV while they shed light on topics ranging from politics to music to language. I am looking forward to more talks with them and
more delicious meals.
The next person on my list is Brenda. I also call her my sister but she’s special
because we have exchanged the least amount of words. Brenda comes from a small village about 30
minutes away from where I am located right now and is only in town for the
holidays to help us with the housework.
She is an innocent 15 year old that is always willing to help with her
strong hands. Brenda speaks so little
English that most of the time I end up communicating better with her using hand
signals. The day I can have a full
conversation with her will be the day I successfully learned Lusoga.
The last person I am mentioning is my mom, the head of the
house. She is an amazing woman who has
been able to provide for her family by working as a nurse 4 nights a week and
keeping her pharmacy shop during the day.
She is a widow who has raised three beautiful young women and has also
adopted her nieces and nephew. My host
mom, Rebecca, is an inspiration to all men and women who find it difficult to
do the right thing when facing hardship.
Despite illness, corruption, and loss, she still finds the energy to
instill strong values in her children and works herself down to the bone to
insure her family is provided for. She
may not always have the time or words to communicate but she has left a imprint
in my heart with her kindness during my stay in her home.
Apart from the lessons in family culture during this
homestay, our goal has been to learn the language. In the region I find myself, we are learning
Lusoga. It’s not too different from
Luganda because it too is a Bantu language but just like any other language I
have had to learn, there’s the introductory phase of greetings and memorizing
vocabulary. Unfortunately for us we are
past the honeymoon phase and we are now in the struggle phase of trying to make
sense of the grammar. Thanks to my
experience with Spanish I have not encountered too much trouble with
pronunciation and if only the sentence-forming was just as easy, we would all
be fluent speakers by now. Sadly that is
not the case and we are racking our brains trying to understand the grammar of
a language that is not taught formally even for the native speakers. There is no guide or rule book to the
language except for the one that the Peace Corps created. Our best bet is to get past this phase as
soon as possible by passing the LPI oral exam and move on to the reality that
is Uganda.
Frankly I feel like my novice level proficiency in the
language may put me at an advantage for creating opportunities to
socialize. Most Ugandans that I have met
are happy to teach me something; whether it be the language, how to hand wash
my laundry, or how to cook the local meals, it is all the same a fulfilling task. So now when I engage with a simple greeting
and put on a helpless look the locals jump on the chance to teach me a new
phrase and I slowly make a new friend.
Next week is the LPI exam and then we get together again
with all the volunteers for swearing in.
Once that is done, we will be official volunteers and the work will get
started finally.
Tuneiramu eira!
Here's a small sample of our lesson in Lusoga. Okoba ki (pronounced oh-co-ba-chi)?
Here I am hard at work at Bukhooli College during our self-study. How's my tan coming along?
VSO
P.S.
Sorry I don't have a picture of my homestay family. It is hard to get them all together at once so I'm still working on it. T.B.C.
