Conversations over chapati

5.29

Sara let me fry up the chapati today. It actually is pretty tricky, because here in Uganda, they just don’t use many utensils, and so I was squatting over a pan on a charcoal fire, using only my bare hands and a metal spoon to spread, turn, and flip the chapati. I felt really awkward and unsmooth at first, but I could tell that I was getting the hang of it by my fourth chapati, which is a good thing because the fire was getting hotter and I had no choice but to work quicker. It all felt so… rustic. I imagined trying to make up this fried bread at home and what my family might think of me sticking my hand in the hot pan, using my fingers to twirl the dough around and flip it to its other side. “Don’t burn yourself!” I imagined my mother warning me just as Sara said it. “I’m trying not to!” I escaped with no burns… and some delicious chapati. Now I only need to master the art of making the dough—I never have been good with a rolling pin.

It was interesting that when the chapati was finished, Sara brought out Abdu’s dinner to him—he ate in a lounge chair by himself while Lauren and I ate at the table, by ourselves. It’s typical that Lo and I eat separately from the family. This was a disappointment to us and continues to be—because we really do enjoy spending time with the fam—but by now we expect it, and realize that it must be a cultural difference that the guests eat separately from the family. (Plus, they eat their dinners much later than we do—after 10:00 pm, which I’m no stranger to after having spent a semester in Spain, but I’m grateful not to have to revisit that particular custom!) This ‘cultural difference’ was affirmed for me today when, as I slipped into the kitchen to spoon myself up some more beans, I saw that Sara was sitting at yet another table, eating chapati by herself. I haven’t really noticed that Abdu is served apart from the rest of the family until today, because we rarely see Abdu as it is; he usually arrives home late. I figured they all waited till he got home and ate dinner all together. How strange that husband and wife eat in separate rooms from each other?

Actually Sara shared some tribal traditions with us recently. Sara is from the Hippo clan and Abdu is from the Mamba clan, All of their children are also Mamba clan, and cannot marry another Mamba or Hippo. Sara’s mother and father are not allowed to enter Sara’s and Abdu’s house. In fact, Sara’s mother can only greet Abdu, but very quickly and with downcast eyes and without physical contact. As Sara explains it, “my mama rahns from my husband.” Sara must do the same for her father-in-law: “I rahn from Abdu’s dahdy,” In fact, she must be very well covered when he comes to visit, presumably to discourage any coveting of his son’s wife. Both Abdu’s parents are welcome to enter into Sara’s and Abdu’s house. Sara was surprised that we have no such rules in America. Thank heavens, because, (and this one’s for Dominy:) “I do what I want!”