I had the opportunity to help Dr. Val last
weekend with their 5 year celebration of peace in the first peace village,
Nabwal. As I wrote that last sentence this sounds normal and like something I
could easily describe but I don’t even know how.
Picture me, with several ladies from around
Karamoja, standing in a big open field in the midst of 5 giant cooking fires with
huge sauce pans on them. Then add to that picture roughly 1,000 karamojung in
their traditional wear singing and dancing around us while they wait for the
food to be ready to eat. Two bulls have been slaughtered in the not so distant
background and we are mixing food with huge sticks and carrying the meat for
boiling in large basins. Can you picture it?
Don’t worry, I don’t think I could have either if I hadn't been there.
Some days....
We had lots of rain while in Nabwal and the day
after the big celebration it was still raining but we were trying to get back
to Kangole. I had both axles buried in mud and had three Karamojung men
yelling in the windows at me to go three different directions. (Literally. Go
forward, go back, turn hard right) But if you've ever been in 3 feet of mud you
know that you are really not going anywhere.
You trying to picture it? I’m in
a skirt (because that is what women wear out here) with my favorite gum boots
on. My land cruiser has mud coating it from the roof all the way down. There is
so much mud tossed up on the back window that I can’t see through it at all. It
is hot and humid and I would rather just be sitting with a book and a cup of
tea on this rainy morning and instead I’m trying to ignore all of the people
yelling at me while rocking the vehicle enough to get an inch or two of
traction. I have it in 4wd low and finally manage to grab a bit of solid ground
under the mud and am able to accelerate out (as much as you can call 2nd
gear accelerating). Everyone splashed back over to me and climbed back in, congratulating
for getting unstuck again (it was my 4th time that morning).
Yet somehow this is becoming normal...
I was driving between the peace village and my
home and had to stop on the side of the road because just a few feet from me
was an adult pair of ostriches. The male at nearly 8 feet tall with his flame
red neck and coal black feathers shook his giant wings at me while the slightly
smaller (at only 7 feet tall) dusty gray female moved back away from the road
into the bushes.
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