Going Up Country

There is a definite truth in Uganda – that if you’re one of the lucky ones who owns a car, you better be prepared to offer rides to others, to carry parcels, mail, people to various destinations (if you happen to be going that way) and you do it without any expectation of remuneration or help with fuel costs. A sincere thank you will be your reward. Because if you are wealthy enough to own a car in a country where the average income of the average citizen is well below what is called “the poverty line” in the United States, then a sincere “Thank you” should be all you need.

It was with this understanding that Carolyn and I undertook our trip to the north to retrieve two members of our household – Robert and Nina -  who had spent a month in their respective home compounds to help with harvesting crops, planting, building – whatever needed to be done. The family bond is still very strong in Uganda – something that is being lost in the United States – and in spite of the fact that Robert and Nina are making their lives for the most part in Kampala now, family loyalty demands that they return home a few times a year to tend to their “ancestral” homes.

When we left that Thursday morning, our ultimate destination was the little town of Opot, where both Nina’s and Robert’s homes are. Opot is about 375 miles from Kampala, a quick 2.5-3 hour, 4 hours at the most; drive if you’re on any interstate in the U.S. But there aren’t any “interstates” in Uganda. If you’re lucky, between the major towns you’ll have a relatively nice paved two-lane highway. If you’re lucky. Our roads would range from the aforementioned paved two-lane highway with the occasional pothole, to, as we drove further north, the same two lane highway being riddled with endless potholes, to finally, when we turned off the main road to go toward the Kumi District where we would come to Tilling and eventually Opot, such rutted, gouged out dirt tracks that the only way you can access them is with a four wheel drive such as Carolyn’s Toyota Prado. And it was going to take a lot longer than 4 hours to get there!

But that’s even if you’re driving straight through. We knew that we had to make two stops along the way to deliver various items to Bahá’ís who otherwise would have no way of receiving what they needed. So in the car we had mail, packages, information, and suitcases – things that would be dropped off along the way.

Mbale Bahá’í Institute

Mbale Baha'i Institute

Our first stop was in the town of Mbale (pronounce m-bolly) where there is a Bahá’í institute. There are a few institutes scattered throughout Uganda where area Bahá’ís can come together for tutor training in the Ruhi courses, children’s classes and youth activities are developed as well as other activities. Carolyn had something which had to be delivered to the director of the Institute, Patrick Itemor. While we were there, Patrick asked Carolyn if on our return trip we could stop and pick him up as he had a meeting on the hill that Saturday. Of course Carolyn said yes, so it was arranged that we would be there the next day to fetch Patrick.

Once we left Mbale, the road, although still a two lane paved highway, started becoming a little rougher to drive over. The road was obviously less well maintained so there were potholes all along the way. You had to either slow down in order to go over them, swerve back and forth like an obstacle course to avoid them, or pull off onto the shoulder and drive on it for a while. Ugandans are nothing if not enterprising, so some of the local citizenry, mostly children, would take advantage of the sparse traffic and try to fill the potholes with dirt, rock and grass to make them easier to drive over, and then they would stand on the side of the road and hold out their hands in hope that grateful travelers would stop and pay them. I’m not sure how much money they could make that way, but Carolyn said that if she had had change she would’ve stopped at least once. However, the problem with doing that is that the potholes aren’t so far apart that there are different groups of children filling holes along the way, and if the group just a little further down the road sees that you’ve stopped to pay the previous group, there’s an expectation that you would stop for them as well. Gives new meaning to the term “toll road!”

Tilling

The traffic was pretty light on this Thursday morning, so in spite of all of the stops we made pretty good time so about four hours after we started this journey we were close to our final destination. We turned off the main road onto a smaller road which gradually turned from tarmac to dirt, and gradually narrowed and became much more difficult to traverse because of the deep ruts. We came into the little town of Tilling where we needed to make another stop at the home of John Robarts and Florence Okiror. Carolyn had something to deliver to Florence and I was hoping that they had their paperwork ready to obtain their visas for the group pilgrimage that is happening in late October (and which I’m in charge of organizing all the paperwork for). In typical Ugandan fashion, when Carolyn had asked John Robarts (he is a member of the NSA) the previous weekend in Kampala where their home was, he gave her directions to the Bahá’í School and described the Olinga home which is across the road from the school, and then said “When you reach there, you’ve gone too far, turn around and come back two houses!” And guess what? That’s exactly what we did!

Opot

We finally and gratefully arrived at the Oloro compound in Opot. We had been in the car six to seven hours and we were stiff! We were thrilled to have the opportunity to stretch our legs and walk around the area.



As soon as it was clear that we had arrived, people came from all directions, primarily children. Ugandan children are endlessly fascinated with white people, and while we were certainly not the first they had ever seen, it’s a rare enough sight that garners everyone’s attention. Once the children got over the general excitement of our arrival, and allowed me to take their photos (which I had to show them after they were made) then they settled down to munch on popcorn that we had brought with us. Spread out around the compound was drying cassava pieces, which would be pounded into a flour, and millet grain was also spread out on large plastic sheets. One of the women was threshing the millet grain. She took the millet stalks and beat them against a rock to get the grain to fall from the stalks. 

Threshing millet

Then she would take the grain and put it in a large shallow basket and she proceeded to shake and toss the grain to sift out the husks. It was quite fascinating to see this “old fashioned” way of threshing the grain.

Nina, who was quite surprised to see us, took us on a walking tour of the area, showing off the acres of farm land they had and pointing out the different crops. As we walked along the road a different crowd of children espied us and began following us. It was so funny because if I stopped and looked behind me at them, they would stop abruptly and some would run a little bit away as if they were afraid I was going to do something to them. Then when I started walking again they started walking, I’d stop, they’d stop and jump back. Looked like something out of the Three Stooges! Interestingly however, for as “primitive” as their lives appeared, they all seemed to know what a camera was and as soon as I pulled it out, they all grouped together and posed nicely for the camera!

A neighboring compound near
where we stayed

A typical compound consists of a cluster of round huts with thatched roofs. Some compounds, like the Oloro compound, also have a house. Since families are pretty close, and even if family members move away, they always have their own hut to come home to, so Ugandans know that they can always go home again! Huts are made of different materials, depending on the relative wealth of the family. On our drive there we saw huts that were constructed of only the adobe made from the red clay dirt and grass. This is probably how these huts have been traditionally made for centuries. Other huts might be made of tin, bricks, or in the case of the Oloro compount, cement. These huts were larger then the traditional huts and are designed and built to meet the needs of the person or persons who will be inhabiting the hut. The thatch roof is pitched pretty high and then comes down, forming an overhang that comes down so low that in order to get through the door, you have to stoop to get under the overhang. Inside the hut, you don't have anything covering the thatch ceiling. I full expected that I would be sleeping on the floor of the hut but they had moved beds in. Mosquito netting was hung up over the bed and I was set for the night.

The hut I slept in

Other buildings in the compound incuded a small hut that was used as the kitchen, Two structures that were granaries for storing millet, and the out house! As a child I got practice using the outhouse when country relatives we visited didn't have indoor plumbing and in Girl Scouts. But add to this the fact that there's no wooded seat like I'm used to in outhouses, but rather a pit in the ground with two raised footprints on either side of the hole so you would know where to place your feet as you started the squat down - which is not very easy for a 57 year old! Still I bravely availed myself of the facilities unti Friday morning when I saw the huge spider on the wall. I still did the squat, but I was ever so careful not to disturb that spider.

Rezwan

A self portrait with Rezwan

Living in the Oloro compound is a family who are tenants and who have two children, Hosea, who appeared to be 7 or 8 years old, and Rezwan, who is probably 4 years old. Rezwan just absolutely captured my heart. They were both fascinated with me but weren’t afraid of me. They both seemed intent on having my full attention and Rezwan, for the most part, got it. After walking with me as I went about taking photos of the area, once I sat down in a rickety wooden chair that I wasn’t sure would even hold me, Rezwan climbed into my lap – and pretty much stayed there! She chattered at me in the Ateso language, although I discovered that she knew body parts and numbers in English. And she could sing some Bahá’í children’s prayers in English. But she mostly kept up a running chatter in Ateso and I had no clue what she was saying. She didn’t seem to care – she would finger my necklace or my dress, my hair, my face, my glasses and just talk. She would occasionally break out into a song in Ateso – I’m guessing it was a children’s song of some sort like our kids in the U.S. learn nursery rhymes. She was just something! She and Hosea played well together but she definitely could turn on the little sister tears if she felt like she was being slighted or if Hosea was getting to do something that she wanted to do. I was impressed with Hosea’s ability to ride a full size bicycle, although he wasn’t sitting up on the seat – he would never have been able to reach the pedals. Instead he would stand on the pedals and start pumping – he had to maneuver around the heavy metal “boy bar” (don’t know what else to all it!) so it was kind of like he was riding side saddle, if that makes any sense at all. I wish I had taken a photo to more clearly show what I’m incapable of adequately describing. What really blew me away was when I saw him riding off with Rezwan perched up on the high back seat!

Hosea and Rezwan

As the sun was setting and Carolyn went to bed and the rest of us were waiting for our supper to cook, Rezwan and Hosea still stayed close. I got my flashlight out and they were endlessly fascinated with it – blinding some of us or the dogs occasionally as they flashed it around the compound. I entertained them for a little while with shadow puppets – but my repertoire there is limited!

The night sky was beautiful. I’m always taken aback when I’m out in the middle of nowhere and there are no artificial lights to compete with the beauty of the night lights. The last time I remembered being in such a remote location was the Navajo reservation. Here, the only lights (other than my flashlight) was a sliver of moon, the constellations, and some heat lightning off to the west. Then, magically the fireflies started their sky dance and twinkled throughout the compound adding to the serenity that had settled over the area.

When I went to bed and was settling in for what would prove to be a fitful sleep, I listened to the night sounds of the compound. The family was still awake and the father, who had been away working all day, was playing with Rezwan. I would occasionally hear a squeal of laughter from Rezwan as he was entertaining her with whatever it is fathers entertain their children with. These were happy sounds to drift off to sleep to.

As soon as the sun was up the next morning the compound was astir. Some had already gone to the fields to work, others were working in the compound itself. Carolyn and I tried to make ourselves useful so we spent some time dragging rotted sesame seed stalks that had been on a drying rack off to the fields across the road and dumped them, where they would be spread out and used as fertilizer. Absolutely nothing is wasted here! We also helped sew shut the huge sacks that were stuff full of millet stalks that still needed to be threshed. Did we use string to sew these sacks? No….we used twigs that had been soaked in water to get soft, along with some sisal, and we used a stick to poke holes along the edges of the opening in the sack, and then threaded the sisal or twigs through the holes and tied them off tightly. But after these chores were done, Rezwan was back in my lap until it was time for us to load up the various animals and go.

Bahá’í Historical Significance



Tilling home of Enoch Olinga



I really didn’t appreciate where I was at first until as we were leaving the area Carolyn explained to me that for all intents and purposes, the Kumi District, and the towns of Tilling and Opot were where the Bahá’í Faith started in Uganda. In the early 1950s five Bahá’í pioneers – Ali and Violette Nakhjavani, Musa and Samiyyih Banani, and a Englishman named Phillip Hainesworth, settled in the Kampala area with the encouragement and support of the Guardian of the Bahá’í Faith, Shoghi Effendi. Through their efforts to share the message of the Bahá’í Faith they came across a young government service worker named Enoch Olinga. When Enoch Olinga embraced the Bahá’í Cause, he was the first native Ugandan to do so.  He carried the message back to his home town of Tilling. Through his efforts there, his extended family, and many other people in the area became Bahá’ís. The Olinga home where he and his family lived when they weren’t in Kampala still stands and members of the Olinga family live there. Of the nine members of the current National Spiritual Assembly, at least three, possibly four members are from that area, and two retired members of the NSA are from that same Tilling area as well. Family names of Olinga, Oloro, Okiror, Onama, and Okello usually indicate a Bahá’í family. Eperyu Oloro, whose home compound we were visiting, was on the first NSA formed in Ugandan – although it was a regional NSA at that time and covered more countries than just Uganda, and he was also named one of the first two Counsellors for Africa. I have yet to find out what’s behind the names. It seems that most of the people who come from this area have names that start with “O.” I hope to find out the origin of that, if anyone actually knows. I’m sure that there’s some clan identifying connection going way back in time.

Chickens, Turkeys and a Guinea Hen!

Traveling fowl in the back of
 Carolyn's SUV

Our return trip to Kampala was typical of what you’ll see in most cars, suvs, buses, or taxis on the open road. Although Nina wasn’t ready to come with us just yet, we now had Robert and whatever he was bringing back with him. Before we left that morning, Nina picked a huge sack full of lemons off the lemon tree in the yard so we could bring it back and she could take it to market later and sell them. We also had in tow a new rooster to replace the one who met an unfortunate demise a few weeks ago, a guinea hen to bring some love to the guinea fowl Carolyn already has and who had lost his mate, and turkey, which was a gift from the Oloro compound and had we come the next day – which is when they expected us, she would have been cooked and eaten there. But instead we got to bring her home. Carolyn had every intention of bringing a billy goat home to mate with Buttercup, one of the two nanny goats already living at Carolyn’s, but this billy goat was a little young and had diarrhea so none of us wanted him riding in the back of the car!

Before we could leave however, Robert wanted to go back over to his compound to say goodbye to his mother. So off we went, the roads to his compound got narrower and narrower until they really were nothing more than a walking path. Because it’s rare to see a car coming that direction, and what few cars come they would recognize – when anyone heard or saw us coming, they stopped whatever they were doing and just watched us. We pulled into the compound and Carolyn thought that perhaps it would be a quick stop and no need to get out of the car but no……soon there were about 30 people – adults, children, and babies – all of whom had come to greet and welcome us. The newest baby was thrust into Carolyn’s arms, Robert’s mother presented her with a chicken (which ended up in the back of the car with the other fowl, and later that weekend was dinner!), and the kids stared in amazement at the two muzungus. Once we finally succeeded in extricating ourselves and heading off, several children ran behind the car all the way to the main road and again, everyone stopped whatever they were doing to watch the strange car go by.

Hatchling basket lashed to top of car

Once we finally got back on the road, we stopped again at the Okiror residence in Tilling to see if they had some documents I needed (they didn’t), and then we headed on. We stopped at Mbale Institute again to pick up Patrick and his luggage and off we went again!  While we were at the Mbale Institute however, Carolyn and Robert had noticed some hatchling baskets that Patrick had. They realized they would need such a basket for any chicks that might be hatched in the future. The hatchling basket is exactly that – a large basket with a hole in the bottom. After chicks hatch, but before they can wander too far away, the basket is turned upside down on them – keeping them from wandering around and also keeping them safe. There are predatory birds and monkeys who like chicks for their meals, and the only way to keep them from being picked off one by one is to keep the basket over them. As we left Mbale, Patrick pointed out a road side market that had beautiful huge hatchling baskets for sale. So we stop again and off Robert and Patrick go to negotiate for the basket. When they brought it back to the car, they realized it was much too large to cram into the back of the SUV with the chickens, turkey, guinea hen and everything else, so they purchased some rope and lashed it to the top of the car and off we went again.

Only one more stop – and that was in the town (whose name I just forgot) where there are markets selling primarily rice, as that is the primary crop in that area. Carolyn sent Patrick and Robert off to negotiate a good price for 50 kilos of rice (if she or I had gone with them, the price of the rice would have gone up significantly!). Soon they came running back (it was now pouring rain) with a 50 kilo sack of rice which was added to the back of the car with the lemons, luggage, and various fowl.

“Drive Through” Dining

Although in Kampala, and some of the other larger towns there are restaurants that like to call themselves “fast food” restaurants, there really isn’t anything like the drive through fast food restaurants that exist in the U.S., which is, frankly, a good thing! However we did experience the Ugandan version of drive through dining on our way back from Opot.

All along the roads when traveling anywhere, you’ll find any number of fruit and vegetable stands. However, in certain areas where there is enough space for cars and trucks to safely (and sometimes not so safely) pull over, there are much larger markets, which, in addition to the fruits and vegetables, you can purchase cooked food items. Food vendors, dressed in identifying blue coats will have anything from roast chicken on a stick, soft drinks or cold water, roasted bananas, and baskets of fresh bananas and tomatoes, passion fruit, maize, etc. for sale. As soon as the car stops, all of these vendors rush the car and thrust their particular wares inside the window for you to select from. Because they’re all in business for themselves, you’ll have more than one vendor trying to sell the same thing. So it’s really a question of who gets to the window first. So as soon as I rolled down the window I had hands coming at me with chicken, bananas, everything – with a lot of shouting. There must be some kind of “fair play” rules that the vendors abide by, because remarkably, even though they’re all in competition with each other, there’s no fighting, shoving, anything like that. It’s just sort of a “survival of the fittest” situation. All of our windows were down; I was trying to buy chicken on a stick for each of us, along with cold drinks. Carolyn was trying to buy bananas to take home, and Patrick was getting water for himself. I could hardly get my money out to pay for the items I was purchasing because there were so many items being thrust at me. I lost my patience a bit but managed to maintain some equilibrium as I paid for the items and convinced the rest that I wasn’t buying anything else from anyone! I would like to have taken a photo – but I couldn’t get to my camera! Finally, we all successfully negotiated our various purchases, closed the windows and drove away.

And the chicken on a stick Ugandan style is absolutely delicious!