Dinner at Nancy's

Nancy's housing area

What is it like to be invited to dine at the house of a local? Nancy is our neighbor, and she said that her mother wanted to invite us to her home.

Food on the floor.  See the wash basin?

The first time we dined, we had rice and g-nuts - that is ground peanuts made into a paste.  I thought the paste goes with another dish, but to my surprise, you just pour the paste over rice, and that is it.  It tasted so good that I helped myself to 3 servings.

Rose and her friends in their colorful kitenges

We dined in the room of Nancy's mother, Rose.  There is a 2-seater sofa and in front of it is a curtain which hides her bed. The curtain is drawn to the side to allow the other guests to sit on the bed during the meal.  Because of space limitations, there is no table, so food is laden on the floor; no kitchen area or lavatory, that is why washing of hands is on-site.

The ritual of washing hands

It is customary to wash hands before the meal - perhaps in the event that one will need to eat with bare hands. The second time we were invited, we were served chicken stew, potatoes, beans and rice.  The chicken was so delicious but I controlled my appetite because there were 7 of us sharing the meal. 

Impeccable servings on clean floor

Rose, Nancy and her brother

The conversation was more on answering questions such as what is it like in our country, how many children do we have or describing their difficult life where most people are poor and sickly.  Nancy and her brother are both college grads - non- diploma, though.  All along, there is laughter.  After the meal, guests are not expected to linger - understandably because the streets are dark and the light from our mobile phones led us the way.

Nancy and her overhead cargo at our doorstep

Rose perhaps understands our limitations as volunteers.  When we went home, she asked Nancy to carry on her head her take-home presents for us of peanuts, pineapple, avocados and rice.

Goats bark too!

As one author said, "Africa is a vast continent, a continent of people, and not a place for exotica, or a destination for tourists".  One of the thrills that I get here in Gulu is observing the local setting.  Since this blog is about my experiences as a volunteer in Africa, I notice almost everything (even the ordinary)  and would have something to write about it - just typical me.
Our family spent one Christmas vacation, up north in the Philippines.  We were privileged to be invited to stay at the mansion of one of the influential politicians in the area.  His compound had a mini-zoo, and to our surprise, instead of dogs guarding the entrance to the property.....we were greeted by a lion.  This was not in Africa, but in the Philippines.

Our goat guard for the day

Here in Gulu, Uganda at Okele Road,
no number, the green gate to our modest accommodations is guarded not by a lion but by a goat! Goats are common household animals here.

This goat is guarding those blankets for sale.

The toad guard

Other than our gate, the entrance to our main door is also guarded. One morning I was about to put on my walking shoes which are left at the entrance door.  I could not slide in my foot and I thought that I left my socks inside the shoe.  As I pulled the bulge from the inside, out came a frog!  Now this frog has abandoned our front door.  It is now guarding Liz's kitchen door. I understand that in some parts of Uganda, a monkey can just pop up in your doorstep.

Awaiting the changing of the guard

By the way, our goat guard changes everyday with no pomp and pageantry.