prayer group #2

One of my new friends took me to her “international prayer group”. But I was the only international there. i don’t like Christianese in my country. To see it exported to other places is just sad. I consider the understanding that we must act or speak a certain way to be Christian another part of christianese. I say this because of how they reacted to what they learned about me. After the inevitable questions about my name and my country, they ask what my work is. I tell them carpentry and painting as I have learned they understand these occupations. That’s when the women talking to me take another look at my body. They laugh and say since that is a man’s job I must be a very special female, even more so cuz im a mzungu. Ach. These people think that all mzungus work in offices. Im working on dispelling this illusion.

Now, everyone had a testimony this week. It took a lil while for me to realize “testimonies” to these people is simply a story from the week that they saw worked out by God. And they don’t “go to” church. They “pray from a” church. But these people remind me so much of others I have known back in the US. I keep expecting people totally different and they constantly surprise me with being familiar.

Their guest speaker turned out to be couple. The man had a very deep voice and the woman had a diamond face. Their, well his, topic was on encouraging the singles to not give up. That’s when they asked me if I was married. No, don’t even have a boyfriend. Im free. Well then you must be searching. Nope, not searching. That seemed to signal that I needed convincing of the advantages of marriage. Ahem. I tuned out about the time they suggested I could find a Ugandan and stay here for the rest of my life. Don’t get me wrong, I like Uganda. I just don’t feel the urge to glue myself to this area of land or culture.

Afterwards everyone wanted to talk to me and shake my hand. The first woman to get to me had made a beeline. She wanted to sell me necklaces of paper beads. She insisted on making an appointment for me to come over even after I repeatedly told her I wasn’t going to buy anything like that for months. I don’t think I will be “praying” with that particular group again. C’est la viv.

I also went out to the markets today. I didn’t want to buy anything, just explore. So many people see $$ when they see white skin. Everyone shouting at me to come over and examine their merchandise. There were different areas for each kind of thing. The shoes area, the produce area, the butcher area, coal, hardware, clothes, even fish which I could smell long after I passed. Gross. I got a boda to downtown. He wanted 5000. I called that a mzungu price. He laughed and changed it to 3000. Much better.

I found a book store that carried books I recognized. I ate in a restaurant for $2. Then I accidentally walked into the market district of town. I didn’t know it extended that far north. Bryce told me not to go there yet cuz im not used to Uganda enough to navigate the packed buildings and streets surrounding them. There were groups of hindus sitting and talking right next to groups of muslims doing the same. I noticed some people I passed sizing me up, probably to rob me. Finally I gave into the rising feeling of fear and got a boda out of there.

safe back at the house. Don’t eat jackfruit; they taste bad and smell worse.