figuring it out

you know you're not in atlanta anymore when a really good night is being able to hand wash the dinner dishes with the kitchen light on and not by candle light.  and a really good morning is getting to sit outside and have wireless internet- that actually works.... for now.

it's funny how much it feels like we've gone back in time.  having to do things at a random time because the thing you need happens to be available at that moment- like taking a shower in the middle of the day because there happens to be hot water and there might not be in the morning- or having toast because the electricity is on and the toaster will work. it's a weird combination of living in the moment and planning ahead.  you forget how long life takes- just the living of it.  the washing and the brushing and the cooking of it.  i re-use the kids plates because we don't have a dishwasher, i stain wash the kids clothes instead of re-washing them because we don't have a washing machine. 

this saturday mike went in to town to get some bookcases and some food and he was gone all afternoon from lunch until dinner.  i was home all day with the kids milling around and it felt like 'little house on the praire' i was ma wondering when pa would get back from town with the bare necessities.

i'm trying to sit out here and write and it's hard- there are a million distractions- the kids running in and out- random ugandans stopping by to ask for work.  i am ready to get into a routine- to get the kids into school- to start zoe's school- to begin work- to begin to teach.  things that will remind me more acutely of why we are here washing dishes in the dark.

yesterday afternoon a boy we'd seen at the playground a few days before, stopped by.  well, he didn't really stop by- he appeared in the yard and was just hanging around.  there were several kids playing on the porch and he stood off to the side watching.  i wasn't sure what was up.  i said "hi" and then i walked to the store for milk.  when i got back he was inside the house playing with zoe while her two friends played outside.  it was only weird because he's thirteen and she likes to play dolls and as usual she was telling him all about amercian girl dolls, which i'm not sure he was interested in except perhaps the novelty of it.    i jumped in to bail him out by asking if he spoke luganda and would teach me some words- and he did.  i also asked him a bunch of questions like where he lived and who he lived with and all that- and his answers changed a bit- so i'm not sure exactly what his story is- but he was nice and very happy to be at our house and i learned several new words. 

but, i was a little bit uncomfortable.  i felt a little bit like i had in the market that day i was buying baskets.  i wasn't sure what was culturally appropriate- or if i should even be thinking about cultural appropriateness.  maybe it was just as simple as it looked.  a boy, a bit older than my kids, coming over to play.  done.  but maybe i was setting up some sort of precedent.  the muzungu who welcomes random children in to play and have snacks and hang out.  or maybe just for him- this would become his new hang out- maybe everyday after school he'll show up and want to come in and hang out.  what is the culturally correct thing to do?  what assumptions are being made?  i also realized that i don't know anything about him or his family.  maybe he's a street kid- maybe he steals things- maybe he scopes places out and someone else comes back to steal things.  i hated that i had all these competing thoughts.

the kids all decided to go to someone else's house to play whiffle ball and he went too and i thought that was the end of it.  phew.  i'd figure it all out later- i guess it was all fine after all and i set out to make a new julia child gluten-free brownie recipe with coco instead of chocolate. 

but after an hour or so, my kids came home for dinner - and so did the boy.  then things got a bit confusing.  the lore was that he was having dinner with us- but who had invited him and how it had been decided was unclear.  he thought i'd invited him- jude said, daddy said it was ok- but to double check with me.  it was getting dark- i didn't actually plan on him eating and didn't make enough food- but said i guess it's fine- but inside i had that feeling.  i had the feeling like something wasn't right- like i'd messed up somewhere- i'd given the wrong impression- i'd crossed some cultural line and i wasn't sure quite how to fix it.  i didn't want to say 'no'.  i didn't want to be rude.  and then there is the whole 'we have more than he does so we should' thing.  how would it 'look' to send him home, but if anyone had come for dinner it wouldn't have been a good night.

it was getting late, our boys were in the bath and mike said the visiting boy needed to go home- we didn't know him- we'd just met him and maybe another time after we get to know him better he could join us for dinner.  then he pulled me aside and gave me the talk about communication and cultural appropriateness and saying "no" first.

but i was feeling befuddled.

i know there's not a right or a wrong answer- it's just feeling your way along in a new place where we are foreigners and learning what we are comfortable with.  it's funny how all these feel new again.  finding the balance between thinking but not over-thinking things.  listening to your gut, but making sure your gut didn't just eat something funky.  learning to trust new instincts- it's ok to pay more- it's ok to say 'no'. 

today when i came home from my first drive EVER on the left side of the road, there was my young friend- on our porch playing with zoe. 

'oli otya!' he said to me.  (how are you?)
'gende' i said.  (i am fine.)
he smiled his beautiful smile.
no harm done i guess.