stories of Uganda

How are theses for some amazing smiles? Marvin (left) and Sam look like this much of the time.

Mami Nakato sits with Suzan Gayle on the porch while they're waiting on the big kids to come for snack time. "Nakato" for women, like "Kato" for men, means she is a twin. This house mom and I have gotten know each other much better during my visit this time.

As I write this, I have completed three full weeks in Uganda. In some ways, I feel as though I’ve been here three months, rather than three weeks. I’m in my routine of getting ready for bed by candlelight and tucking my mosquito net in before climbing into bed and I start to wonder, are there really places where people don’t need a mosquito net? On mornings that I don’t wake to the sound of rain on the corrugated metal roof, I wonder, where is the rain today? And when the room gets dim while I’m getting ready for the day, I think, oh, there it is. I also know that on most days that it starts raining like that at 7 AM rather than 3 AM, it means it will likely be raining until lunchtime (and this morning is one of those days).

I’ve gotten quite good at fixing a breakfast of coffee, eggs and toast all with the use of a gas burner, because the generator is not yet on at breakfast time. And I love sitting at my little table by the window while I eat, watching the children run by in the rain on their way down to the school -- and waiting for the ones who always turn to look and see if I’m sitting at the window so they can wave. And it was sitting at this window on Sunday morning that I suddenly saw a giant banana leaf walking by, with six little legs. While I was watching, the leaf suddenly lifted just enough for me to catch a glimpse of Bula, Sam and Simon Peter, all with rather serious expressions on their faces as Bula called back some instructions or other to the other two. Alas, they were quickly on their way again before I could grab my camera. But really, how many umbrellas at home can cover three heads so easily?

At tuck-in time, I have my routine with some of the children as well. First to the girls’ room, where when I ask Maria, “Can I kiss you goodnight?” she always giggles like she’s embarrassed, but then always says yes. Two-year-old Babirye, who, if she’s awake when I kiss her, always says, “Nakato” -- reminding me to kiss her twin sister as well. Then Janat who must pull me back to give me “one” extra kiss at least three times. On to the main room, where when I say “Have a good night,” Rogers always responds with a very formal “likewise,” and Ezra always pretends to hide from me and Njuba lies far over by the wall so I have to actually sit down and duck my head under the bunk so I can get to him but then he always grabs both my hands in his while I say goodnight, and Simon Peter who sits with his lips puckered waiting to kiss me at least three beds before I get to his.

Then into the rooms where the bigger boys stay, where Kawuma always acts like he’s not going to say goodnight and even goes so far as to hide in the bathroom sometimes, but who always does say goodnight in the end, and where Nyanzi always answers every question I ask -- regardless of who it was directed to -- in a big booming voice (he is proud of the fact that his voice has changed), and where Mbabazi pretends to be asleep but always has a giant smile on his face so I know he’s awake. And where Kato #1 always takes my hand in both his and studies it so closely while we say goodnight and sometimes says, “Mami Phoebe, you look very smart today” (Kato keeps his clothes so nice and stays so clean -- how we wish it would rub off on the other boys!), and where his brother, Wasswa #1, suddenly one night called out, “Kwagara nyo, that means I love you so much,” and then asked me to say it and every night since he says it to me and I say it back.

I have rambled on a lot this time, but I will leave you with one last story. On Monday, we had one of those 7-hour rains and everyone was trapped inside for so much of the day. Finally, around 3:00, the rain stopped, and “white ants” emerged. From what I can tell, they aren’t ants, nor are they white. They are, however, little ant-looking bugs with white wings, which I suppose is where the name comes from. They come out in droves after a big rain, and are evidently a big treat. You can eat them raw (not to say still living), wings and all, or you can wait for them to be cooked. I did summon up the courage to try one cooked. It wasn’t so bad, really, as long as I just didn’t think about the fact that I was eating a bug. I’ve been offered bugs of various descriptions in many of the places I’ve visited, but had avoided it till now. But the kids were so excited by this special treat that I couldn’t really say no this time! I managed to get a few pictures of the event, so you can see it for yourself.





There is more than one way to collect white ants, I learned. The small children like to try to bat them out of the air while they fly. While not very effective, it is very fun to watch. Maria is more practical and waits till they've come back down to earth. She was the one who offered me some of hers later, once they were cooked.








Richard demonstrates eating them "fresh".





White ants, up close and personal.