This posting is a letter from my son David in Uganda regarding his engagement to Gertrude.
Time has grown short and my days of singledom move towards their last. On saturday july 17th I drove to a town just outside of Kampala where Gertrude’s brother lived with his first wife. The objective of this trip was to meet the aunti, who is in charge of preparing the girl for life as a wife and mother, and during this visit we would either get the go ahead on our introduction and marriage and arrange the party and gifts in exchange for the bride, or it could possibly be a big stumbling block on our path…
I woke in the morning with much on my mind and much on my plate. I’d prepared most of the gifts I was to bring to this visit the previous day with a friend, but I still had to print a letter to the family asking permission to be apart of their family, go to the butcher for a fresh cut of beef, pick a crate of soda, crate of beer, and make everything look presentable. First thing do tackle was the meat. About a km away from my house they slaughter about 5 cows every morning for selling through the villages and town. I told the pup to stay at home, because I didn’t foresee her ever coming after finding such a heavenly place as the slaughter house. When I returned with my 10kg of beef strapped to the carrier on my bike I was met by Gertrude’s neice fetching water. Wilson, my puppy had been hit by a car. I found her on the side of the road and carried her home. I didn’t know if both hind legs were broken, I didn’t know if the internal bleeding would stop, I didn’t know if the mass inside her belly was just the blood and muscle, or her intestines torn apart.
Should I stay or should I go? Will my dog live? questions poured out, as my neighbor brought the gifts inside the car to try and push me along, but I wasn’t ready to go. Fortunately, this is africa, and noone else was ready to go either. I met Fred, my right hand man on the road on his way to Masaka, 20 miles in the wrong direction, he said he’d be quick, but… and anthony was stuck teaching, waiting for another teacher to come and take his place, whom never came.
Three days later, I believe that only one leg is broken, while the other is still recovering it’s muscles and unable to support the dogs body. The internal bleeding has stopped. I give her a shot of steriods and antibiotics every morning and ibruphen cut in half coated in pb, or meat three times a day. She’s still pretty helpless, but on the mend for sure, although I’m uncertain how a dog’s broken bone can heal. She still hasn’t pooped, but urinates just fine, I’m hoping the poop will come soon. And suggestions how to help a dogs femur bone heal? cast? wrap? or just pray?
Prayin is just what i did much of as I prepared to leave Wilson for the day. In good hands thankfully, with Keiko, the Japanese nurse whom lives next door, and I’d be returning that night… hopefully… Just after 12 is when we finally took off from Lukaya, four hours later than planned.
At 4, we walked through the doors of Gertrude’s brother’s house, slightly nervous, but mostly spent from the difficult morning and long drive. They could not have been more welcoming. One of the sister’s was in charge of serving us and serve us she did, while the last drop of soda was hitting my tongue, she was opening a second bottle. The family introduced themselves to me and my friends and moved in and out of the room, while one remained present at all times.
The Senga. The aunt which I was to convince I was worth their daughter. Caleb sat in silence as his 20 hour bus ride, and seemingly food that he had eaten during the ride, kept him with little energy. Peter asked all the questions, which I was affraid to ask, “Who’s that lady sitting in this room here with us?” and with his smile a good charm created a learning environment out of the event as they told us the senga’s role in bringing a girl to be a woman. Fred and Ali sat around me contributing to the questions, answers and life of the situation at hand. Soda turned into beer and snacks turned into food as we were pressured into gluttony as the senga sat in between us all keeping up the full time task of adding to our plates whenever a opening should find it’s way, she kept the busiest with Petey and they seem to have almost developed a bond during the lunch, similar to Harold and Maude.
After lunch talking was done, gifts were brought from the car, negotaitions were made as the Aunti, siting so close to me talked to my friend Fred about what was expected of me for the party, and for gifts to the family, and whether they’d accept the September 18th date of the party. This is where my new family shined. They told us the urgency of which they must prepared for the party, even in having the last funeral rights of another auntie, which must be finished before another event is prepared. The expressed their gratitude for the small gifts which we had brought, and they asked only for “kasuze Katya” on the day of the party. Kasuze Katya means “how did the little thing sleep?” it is kerosene, matches and a small funnel and is given to the neighbors after a baby is born. The neighbors are suppose to check on the baby, when need be, with this fuel for their lanterns. Once that baby is grown and become a woman, the family will then return to the neighbors this fuel in appreciation for all they had done in caring for the child. 20L of kerosene, the rest is up to me, my family and friends in order to give. I felt so satisfied when hearing this, because now I could give the family gifts for the bride, rather than a price for the bride. It shows their appreciation in me coming to the family and respecting their cultures traditions, and not forcing, or causing worry or strife over what is to come. It showed how they respect our love and want nothing more than to nurture it and accept me, my family and our future children into their family, clan, tribe and expand this world into a global village.
Afterwards pictures were taken, of which will be coming soon, and we enjoyed the company and said our goodbyes preparing for the journey back. The vibe was nothing less than electric and loving as we said our goodbyes and ventured home. I drove until past midnight listening to Billy Joel, singing and talking to Gertude’s oldest sister, enjoying the reality of our closeness, our family…
To be continued,
davey
