Dear readers,
Our first couple of days during the Jambo song (where little students scurry around eagerly to shake hands with their friends), the kids would come up to us hesitantly, then run back to the safety of their peers. For this past week, we have been greeted enthusiastically by the whole student body. Even when the teachers say "Back to your seats!", there are always a few scragglers left, determined to shake our hands.
As soon as we appear in the field, after lunch, packs of green, checkered cotton barrel into us, almost knocking us over with their hugs. The teachers have also become more comfortable with us; now joking that the the soup is made out of goat blood. Of course, when they bring up cannibalism in Uganda, we assume that they are kidding, too. As of now, we are not quite sure, and are persistently googling the subject.
Everyday at lunch, we serve ourselves a fair amount of beans and rice. The teachers' plates have about four times as much as our's do. As they shovel the rice onto their plates, they jokingly exclaim, "I have little appetite today!", and glance over at our servings. As soon as we finish, they push the pots over to our side of our table and begin to serve us more food. We politely decline, as we have already filled our stomachs to the brim. They find this concept incomprehensible, and look at us skeptically. Here, being called "fat" is a compliment.
Ciao
Emilia and Mattie
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