The Schaads have arrived! His wife, son, daughters, parents, and niece are now all with us but sadly not the professor himself since more complications have arisen over paternity stuff concerning the adoption. However the family’s been helping out at Home Again and playing cards at our house. Very typical American family. 🙂
The boys at the orphanage absolutely love having older guys to play with. The girls will enter and their first question will be “Where are man?”. The younger, most adorable ones, will also go off on long tangents in Torro which is when I really wish this was a language immersion deal so I could understand what they’re saying. And then they could talk to me beyond pointing out ‘cat’ or ‘dog’ and counting to 20. Maybe I’ll know more by the end.
Actually kids aren’t the only ones who say exactly what’s on their minds. For instance, the school master always tells Nicole she’s Ugandan or will call her and Niara sisters because of their skin color. Which btw, really isn’t the same. Even when I was walking in town today, someone randomly mumbled “Chinese” as I passed. And Stephen told me by the time I leave, I’ll be converted. I guess it could be considered ironic since for the most part, people here actually speak very slowly and softly. The words themselves are simply much more direct.
We also held a “discussion” at the school this week led by Arthur, a former pastor. Unfortunately, it actually turned out to be a very long lecture. He talked about the 4 stages of dating (at least 2 years of friendship, 1 year of courtship, no more than 6 months of being engaged, and marriage) and finding your personality match (sanguine – manipulative, melancholy – multi talented, choleric – leader, phlegmatic – reserved). Parts were serious, parts hilarious. A lot of it seemed to be common sense. We’d hoped to learn more about Ugandan culture and compare it to the US but maybe next time.
Overall, I don’t think there’s much that people hide from one another here. Or want to hide. Or need to hide. Everybody is friendly and ready to make friends. If they see someone they know they’ll almost always take the 5 or 10 minutes out oftheir time to stop and chat. They’re also eager to answer whatever questions we have even about the most mundane things like “Stephen, what’s that tree?” (the answer’s always avocado) and “Stephen, why do you walk like that?” (Actually…). There seems to be some sort of unspoken consensus about who’s the drunk of the village and not leaving your house during the rare 5-minute downpours and what the volleyball score really is. Must be one of those things about living in a small town.
Btw here’s adorable Motie!